"Ms. Granger, are you alright?" asked Professor McGonagall as she blubbered before her. Her body had no fluids to block her, but her words failed her, as adrenaline rushed from her form, leaving her a wreck as she just lay there on the floor, finally pointing a weak, trembling finger towards the bathroom, the taller male Professor saying something under his breath as he walked to it, holding his wand ready.
"By Merlin's…girl, what did you do?" he demanded of her, stalking back over, causing her to babble before him, unable to answer, her mind simply not working right at the moment, as she went over the last…gods it had been almost five minutes, in her memory, trying to think of what to say, and finally finding no words.
"What were you doing outside the dorms? Sneaking off from your group when you were told to proceed to them?" asked Professor McGonagall, not accusatory in her tone, but hard, and questioning, causing Hermione to look at her numbly. What group? What were they talking about? She'd been in the bathroom for an hour, and had planned on heading to the library afterwards. She'd asked if that was allowed to Professor Flitwick and been told it was.
"I, library, and then, troll, and Ron and all the other girls, and," she said, trying to find the words still, but instead of being hugged and comforted as she might have expected, she heard the sharp sniff of someone above her, and then felt a tap on her shoulder, forcing her roughly to her feet, and making her fall back down all over herself, since she was not given any bracing to stand again.
"Severus, really! That was uncalled for!" shouted Professor McGonagall, finally coming close to the girl, and forcing the black haired head of Slytherin House back. At last, she touched her, giving her some grounding, giving her some proof that she was alive, and suddenly Hermione's mind worked again, the gears in her head coming loose, as the adrenaline rush and the exhaustion of it all left her.
"I was in the bathroom, Professor. I couldn't. After Professor Flitwick's class I didn't want to go to the party anymore. My dormmates, they don't like me, and that horrid boy, Ronald, I tried to help him, and he made fun of me for it. Third worst in the class and he refuses help? Who does that?" she demanded, a bit of fire in her voice, as she knew just how stupid that was of him. Not foolish, stupid, and it made her voice sharpen.
"I'd asked Professor Flitwick if I could go to the library, but on the way I came up behind him, Ron Weasly, making fun of me, and I just…it got to be too much, so I came here, and I cried. Then the troll, it came by, and I…" she said, trying to explain what she had done, but before she could say much, Professor Snape sniffed again.
"A likely story. Don't lie to us, girl. No one WANTS to be alone on a holiday like this, or would choose to abed without food at your age. You wandered off from the feast, thinking you could be a hero, didn't you?" he said, pointing his wand at her, causing her to look aghast at him.
"Severus, even if what you say is true, this young lady has been through an ordeal tonight, perhaps we should save such words for the morning?" she suggested, trying to be diplomatic, trying to be gentle, but he just sniffed again.
"Really, Minerva? Isn't that just the thing your 'lions' do? Go off and try to get themselves killed?" he asked, and she could see he was agitated, with Hermione noticing, idly, that he was favoring one leg over the other, with an odd stance that kept pressure off it. He was injured…was it the troll? Had he failed to take it down, and was now mad that a First-Year had outdone him? She'd had professors like that before, but in a situation like this?
"Severus, that is enough, we won't know what happened until we investigate, now I'm going to take Ms. Granger here back to the dorms, where she can rest," she said, and began to turn away, but Professor Snape didn't allow it, instead he whipped his wand around, pointing it at Hermione, and then to the bathroom door.
"This damage, young miss, is your fault, and you endangered yourself and potentially far more by not telling others where you were. Fifty-points from your house should be sufficient punishment," he declared, and she felt…something, but she wasn't sure what. It was a part of something, not yet completed, but it stung inside her, like a small piece of coal, not quite lit, but nearly there.
"Severus! Really?!" demanded Professor McGonagall, and the head of Slytherin House just sniffed again, before walking away, saying nothing more, as he had no need to defend his decision, and as the Head of Hermione's own House, he knew Professor McGonagall would in no way be willing to contradict him, not right now. Seeing him go, she almost hexed him, but the woman had a child to attend to, and made a mental note to see Dumbledore instead.
She continued to guide the young lady into her dorm, and walking inside, with a single glance to the Fat Lady living painting that served as the entrance, she was greeted with a gaggle of students, all looking askance at her. She said little, merely reminding the Prefects, the students who were to guide their younger peers, that they should have taken a head count the moment they returned to the dorm, as she revealed that Hermione had been left out.
She also reminded everyone that, regardless of how they might feel, their housemates were almost their family, and to disparage them was as bad as doing so to a brother or sister. She said nothing else, but the girls of the first year dorm, and a certain red-headed boy looked…not abashed at all. After all, it was Hermione's own fault she took a few true words as insults, rather than trying to change her own way of doing things, wasn't it?
Nothing more was said, as Professor McGonagall shuffled the students out of the common room and to their dorms, with Hermione saying nothing to anyone, looking…almost like a ghost herself, as she glided through them, her body moving automatically. But her mind? That was going a million kilometers an hour, doing laps of the Atlantic, and then racing around the Cape of Good Hope on the back around.
She had killed a troll. Something was dead. Something had died in front of her. It was a beast, not really intelligent at all, despite wearing clothes and using tools, those were literally programmed into it. Like a dog trained in a very specific way, that had somehow bred true in its whole species. But it wasn't going to be making any more clothing or clubs. Because it had set itself against her, and she'd killed it.
Hermione was not one for fantasy or fiction, but she read some of them, sometimes. She had read of Heroes who mourned their kills, who'd been broken up about it to the point of almost giving up, regardless of if their victim had been a beast, a henchmen, or the vilest of villains. She should feel like that, right? She was a good person. Maybe not a Hero, but still, someone who considered themself at least good.
But killing the troll didn't make her feel bad. Not simply because it had been a threat, one big enough to force the school into lockdown. That didn't make it deserving of death though…did it? She was rolling that around in her thoughts, going in circles as she slipped beneath the covers of her bed, and finally closed her eyes, allowing her mind to tire itself out, and her body to force it to sleep.
She awoke the next morning late, and to the confusion of everyone who looked at her as they came down. The hourglasses that measured House Points were in the common room, and more than one person was gathered around it, looking from it, to Hermione. None could understand what had happened. Fifty points, that was a huge loss, and had it happened to say, a Weasly or even their friends like Lee Jordan, the response would have been exasperation or even anger.
But Hermione? Obviously this was some mistake. The fact that it was taken by Severus Snape, according to the record, was enough to know that. The infraction itself, according to a Prefect who had read the discipline book, said it was for…disruptive activities? Now they knew something was wrong, but the few that questioned her got only a few words in response, saying her Halloween had been eventful, and nothing more.
The confusion continued as the Gryffindor House made its way down the grand staircase and to the hall for breakfast. Better, as they funneled together with the other houses, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff alike demanded what answers they could. Slytherin, the younger crowd at least, said it was obviously Snape finally taking notice of how much she annoyed everyone, and the lack of defenders from such accusations hurt her more than she was willing to admit as everyone arrived at the Great Hall and took their seats.
Food was already laid out, and people ate, with a few still bothering Hermione about what had happened, trying to get more words from her, but she said nothing in her defense, which made pity gleam in their eyes. Pity? For her? She was almost insulted. Like she should care for things like House Points. Still, most thought her taciturn nature this morning had to do with something Snape had done, and many a voice claimed they would demand answers, though more for the loss of status for the house than her sake.
Luckily, demands did not need to be made. The Great Hall grew quiet as the Headmaster waved his wand for some attention, rising from his seat and announcing that the troll had been dealt with last night, and he congratulated all the staff on a job well done. Still, some of them had erred last night, both in judgement and in action, and as such, he had some words to say.
The first was to the Prefects, who had, as a group, failed to perform a headcount, or otherwise protect their charges. Some, despite the order to escort them back to their dorms, had abandoned their fellow classmates in that most dire time. He would call none out by name, and take no points. But he wanted them to know he was disappointed in them, nothing more than that.
He then moved onto the teachers, who had done a sweep of the school, with some starting at the top, some at the bottom, and a team at the entrance. Some, however, had not gone to their assigned places. He apologized to the students directly for that, as, whatever fault was in the faculty, fell on his head. He would hope those he was speaking of would all take heed of his words, as his mercy was great, but it had limits, and endangering his students was one such limitation.
Interestingly, three figures seemed to squirm at this. Professor McGonagall, Snape, and surprisingly, Professor Qurriel. All three failed to meet the Headmaster's gaze as he swept it on the gathered staff. He then added that rules broken required a punishment. Of course, ignorance of an announcement was an excuse only, and actions taken still needed to be judged, so he would allow the points taken last night to stand.
However, while he reminded them he would not encourage behavior that put themselves in danger, bravery in the face of long odds, and a willingness to take action when others might be frozen in fear, was worthy of reward. As such, he awarded Hermione Granger seventy points for standing up to someone far bigger than herself, though he would ask her to not do so again, if at all possible.
From there, Headmaster Dumbledore said little else of note, dismissing the students, some of which would forget this whole incident in time. Some congratulated Hermione on her award, the largest any in the group could remember. None questioned what she had done to earn it, some thought she might have faced the troll, but that was dismissed as absurd, and given the word on Prefects, more than one thought a Slythrin had cornered her in the confusion, and Snape had punished her, and not him.
Hermione herself, however, would never forget. Snape had erred, Headmaster Dumbledore had said it. And rather than simply reverse his error, he had done something to make it moot. For some, those were one and the same, a bad deed countered by a good. And yet, Hermione's mind turned that thought over again and again, something about the balance remaining disrupted, and leaving her barely aware of the world around her.
Luckily, classes had been cancelled thanks to last night's events, and so she was able to slip off to the library, a place to think. And when she gazed out those windows, at the world outside, her conclusions on what had occurred was…this wasn't justice, was it? This was…appeasement and dithering. Trying to make all sides correct, and not simply saying one had been wrong and one had been right. Giving what Snape had done weight, weight it should not have had.
For the first time in her life, Hermione questioned the logic of that, and her analytical mind came to one conclusion. The world didn't have a sense of justice to it. It allowed people in positions to escape blame, escape punishment for their actions, if they were valuable enough. She…that was not a world she would choose to live in. But since she could not go to another, her mind made the only path forward clear.
This world needed to change. People like Snape needed to be punished. People like Ron Weasly and others needed to know that actions had consequences. And people like Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore needed to learn that Good did not countenance the presence of Evil lightly. With that in mind, with one single turn of thought, the future of all the magical nations was decided, and a Dark Lord was born.