October 31st dawned dark and cool over Hogwarts. The air was filled with a strange sense of energy, as students eagerly anticipated the Halloween feast. But for Harry, it was a somber day. Dumbledore had told him that today marked the anniversary of his parents' deaths. As excited as the students were to celebrate Halloween, this was also the day that the wizarding world celebrated the fall of Voldemort—something that had come at a terrible cost for him.
At dinner, Harry sat quietly with Cedric, Susan, Hannah, and Neville at the Hufflepuff table. Dumbledore had given him permission to sit with his friends, knowing the evening might be hard on him. Even surrounded by food, laughter, and warm company, a sense of melancholy hung around Harry. He managed a small smile, grateful for the company of friends who didn't press him.
Cedric noticed Harry's silence, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Hey, we're here for you, Harry," he said warmly. "It's okay."
Harry nodded, a faint, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, Cedric. I… it just means a lot."
Susan and Hannah leaned in close, whispering silly jokes to try to make him laugh, while Neville sat beside him, offering quiet support.
The feast was in full swing, with enchanted pumpkins floating overhead and laughter ringing through the hall, but Harry remained subdued. He picked at his food, his mind drifting between the present and the memory of what he'd lost. Just as he tried to focus on his friends' chatter, the doors of the Great Hall suddenly burst open with a thunderous bang, startling everyone.
Professor Quirrell staggered in, his face pale as chalk, his eyes wide with terror. Every eye in the room snapped to him.
"Troll! In the dungeons!" he shouted, his voice trembling as he stumbled into the hall. "There's a troll… in the dungeons!" he repeated, clutching his chest as he gasped for air. "Thought you ought to know…" And with that, he fainted dramatically, collapsing onto the floor in a heap.
For a second, the hall was silent, processing the shock of his words. Then pandemonium broke out. Students screamed, shoving away from the tables in a frantic scramble, fear written across their faces. Teachers exchanged alarmed glances, some standing and looking toward Dumbledore for guidance.
Harry's instincts kicked in, and he tensed, eyes darting around the room. "A troll…" he muttered, his fists clenching. He glanced down the table to his friends, heart pounding as he scanned the chaos around him.
"SILENCE!" Dumbledore's voice rang out, instantly cutting through the noise. The headmaster's gaze was fierce, his voice carrying a weight that settled everyone back into their seats. "Prefects, take your students back to your common rooms immediately!"
The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw prefects nodded briskly, moving to organize their students. But Harry noticed a look of hesitation flicker across the faces of the Hufflepuff and Slytherin prefects. They exchanged worried glances, clearly uncertain.
The realization hit Harry, and his jaw clenched in frustration. He shot to his feet, his voice rough with anger. "What kind of bullshit is that, old man!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the hall and bringing a new wave of silence.
Dumbledore blinked in surprise, clearly unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a tone. He turned to Harry, eyebrows raised, as the students stared at him in shock.
Harry's gaze burned with intensity as he continued. "The Hufflepuff and Slytherin dorms are IN the dungeons!" he growled, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "You're sending them straight into danger!"
A murmur of agreement spread through the students, who glanced nervously at each other. Dumbledore's expression softened as he processed Harry's words, a flash of realization crossing his face.
Before he could respond, Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect, raised his hand, looking pale. "Professor Dumbledore! We're missing a student!" he called, fear lacing his voice.
Neville, sitting beside Harry, looked around anxiously before tugging on Harry's sleeve. "Harry," he whispered, his voice trembling, "Hermione Granger's in the bathroom! She was crying earlier—some people were bullying her because… well, because she's Muggle-born."
At the mention of "Muggle-born," a murmur spread through the hall. With the recent events surrounding "Project Mutant," the rights and acceptance of Muggle-borns had been under scrutiny, and some students reacted indifferently. But for Harry, a student in danger was a student who needed help.
With a fierce determination settling over his face, Harry didn't wait for another word. He leaped onto the Hufflepuff table and then the Ravenclaw table in one swift motion, moving with a fluid grace that stunned the students around him. He ignored the gasps and stares as he sprinted toward the doors.
"Mister Potter!" Dumbledore's voice boomed, his tone firm but concerned. "I understand your concern, but this is not your responsibility. Please let the teachers handle it."
Harry paused, looking back over his shoulder, his expression unyielding. "Old man, this is what I was trained for," he declared, his voice steady. "I'm not going as Harry Potter… I'm going as the Wolverine."
With that, he extended his claws, their metallic gleam catching the candlelight, casting an eerie reflection. Some students gasped, while others whispered, but everyone watched in stunned silence as Harry turned and bolted out of the hall.
Dumbledore stepped aside, hesitating as he took in Harry's determined expression, and then nodded, understanding the fierce resolve in Harry's eyes.
Harry sprinted down the corridors, his enhanced hearing picking up faint sounds. A scream echoed through the stone halls, faint but unmistakable. He skidded to a stop, turning on his heel and pivoting in a full 180, changing direction as he honed in on the source. He sprinted back past the Great Hall, knocking Dumbledore back onto his heels as he brushed past him. Several teachers and students who had gathered in the doorway gasped, watching in awe as he raced past them, his speed and agility a testament to his unique abilities.
As he neared the girls' bathroom, he slowed only slightly, raising his foot and kicking the door with all his strength. It flew off its hinges, slamming into the stalls with a deafening crash, shattering the silence inside.
The troll, massive and lumbering, turned at the sound, its beady eyes narrowing as it took in the intruder. Hermione stood frozen against the wall, her face pale, eyes wide with terror.
Harry assessed the situation in a split second. The troll was towering over Hermione, club raised, ready to strike.
"Hey, ugly!" Harry shouted, drawing its attention. "You like picking on little girls? Well, I hate creatures like you."
The troll let out a low growl, shifting its attention to him. With a snarl, it swung its massive club, aiming directly at Harry's head. He ducked, feeling the rush of air as the club passed mere inches from his skull. He countered with a swift, slicing motion, his claws slashing deep into the troll's arm, cutting through muscle and sinew, a fresh arm landing on the floor in a heap.
The troll roared in agony, staggering back as blood oozed from the wound. Its gaze fixed on him with rage, but Harry didn't relent. With a burst of speed, he darted forward, his claws flashing as he slashed at the troll's face, blinding it in one eye. It swung wildly in retaliation, its club grazing his shoulder as he sidestepped, the force of the blow enough to send him stumbling but not enough to knock him down.
Hermione watched, her fear giving way to a stunned awe as she witnessed the intensity of the fight. Harry moved with a fierce grace, each strike precise and calculated.
The troll's roars grew desperate as it swung its club with increasing frustration. Harry ducked and weaved, his movements swift and fluid as he avoided each blow. When he saw an opening, he slid beneath its legs, slashing at the tendons behind its knees. With a guttural scream, the troll collapsed, its massive frame hitting the floor with a ground-shaking thud.
But even on its knees, the troll was far from defeated. In one final, desperate act, it managed to swing its club, striking Harry squarely in the back and sending him crashing into the wall. The impact left a dent in the stone, and he slid to the floor, dazed as pain radiated through his body. His back throbbed, the skin swelling with a dark purple bruise as he felt a wave of sickness spread through him—the troll's filth infecting the wound.
He pushed himself up, breathing heavily as his body fought the infection, his healing kicking in with a fierce determination. "That's new," he muttered, feeling his strength return as the bruising began to fade.
The troll, now bleeding and barely able to move, struggled to rise. Harry approached it, his expression hard. He retracted his claws, placing his fist against the troll's skull. With a final, brutal motion, he extended his claws.
The troll shuddered, its massive body convulsing before it finally went still, a dull thud echoing through the room as its lifeless form slumped onto the cold stone floor. Blood pooled beneath it, and for a moment, Harry simply stood there, breathing heavily as he took in the scene.
He looked up, his gaze landing on Hermione, who was trembling, her back pressed against the wall, her face pale with shock. He took a cautious step toward her, retracting his claws, his expression softening.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice rough but with a note of concern as he scanned her over. "Did it hurt you?"
Hermione seemed to snap out of her frozen state at his words, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of relief and gratitude. She shook her head slowly, a shuddering breath escaping her. "No… I… I'm fine. Thanks to you, I'm fine," she managed to say, her voice breaking slightly.
Without warning, she rushed forward, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug, her grip almost desperate. Harry stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden embrace, but he slowly relaxed, awkwardly patting her back in an attempt to comfort her.
"It's alright now," he murmured, his voice gruff but gentle as he tried to reassure her. "You're safe."
Hermione didn't respond with words, only tightened her hold on him, her body still trembling. Harry could feel her heartbeat pounding against him, her fear slowly ebbing away as the reality of her safety sank in.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor, growing louder by the second. Moments later, the professors arrived, their expressions a mixture of horror, shock, and awe as they took in the scene before them. McGonagall let out a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as her gaze shifted between the fallen troll and Harry, who was standing amidst the aftermath, his shirt torn and smeared with troll blood.
Madame Pomfrey quickly stepped forward, her eyes widening as she noticed the dark, swollen bruise spreading across Harry's back, the infection visibly seeping through the skin. Her face paled as she reached out to inspect it, her voice barely a whisper. "Troll flu…" she murmured, unable to hide her astonishment. "This should be… life-threatening."
Dumbledore stepped closer, his gaze fixated on Harry's back as he watched the swelling begin to fade, the bruising slowly retreating as his healing abilities fought off the infection. He exchanged a stunned look with McGonagall, who was visibly shaken.
"It's… it's healing," Pomfrey whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "Troll Flu usually leaves permanent nerve damage to any who survive… and yet… It seems your healing factor allows you to heal even from Troll Flu..."
Snape, who had been observing from the doorway, looked at Harry with an expression that bordered on disbelief. The sight of the boy standing there, bruised but healing, reminded him of someone from his past. The memory of Lily flashed in his mind, fierce and determined, and he felt a strange sense of respect stir within him, mingling with the remnants of old grudges.
Harry, feeling the weight of their stares, shifted uncomfortably. He turned his attention back to Hermione, who still clung to his arm, her grip firm as if she were afraid to let go. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude, a small smile breaking through her tear-streaked face.
Without thinking, he reached out and ruffled her hair slightly, his usual rough exterior softening as he looked at her. "Come on, let's get you out of here," he said gently, guiding her toward the door.
As they walked, Hermione continued to hold onto him, her face buried against his shoulder, her small frame leaning into him for support. She kept murmuring soft "thank you's," her voice barely audible even to Harry's enhanced hearing. He managed a faint smile, the warmth of her gratitude settling in his chest.
They exited the bathroom, Hermione still clinging to him as they made their way back toward the Great Hall. She stumbled slightly, exhausted from the ordeal, and Harry paused, glancing down at her with a sigh. "Alright, up you go," he muttered, crouching slightly before lifting her into his arms, allowing her to hold onto him more securely.
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise, but she settled against him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. She continued to whisper her thanks, her voice a soothing murmur as Harry carried her through the corridors.
When they finally reached the Great Hall, the sight of Harry carrying Hermione in his arms brought the entire room to a hush. Every eye turned toward them, and a wave of whispers swept through the hall as students and staff alike took in the sight.
Harry gently set Hermione down at the Gryffindor table, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she reluctantly released her hold on him. She looked up at him with a soft, grateful smile before moving to sit at the end of the table, her expression dazed but relieved.
Dumbledore watched from the staff table, his gaze thoughtful as he rose to address the hall. He glanced at Harry, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and admiration. "Tonight, Miss Hermione Granger was in grave danger," he announced, his voice carrying over the silent hall. "And thanks to the bravery and quick thinking of Mr. Harry Potter, she was saved. Harry's actions tonight are a testament to his courage and selflessness."
The hall remained silent, and as Harry looked around, he could see that many students were watching with expressions that ranged from indifferent to mildly curious. A few looked unimpressed, barely reacting to the headmaster's words. A murmur of conversation spread through the tables, and the lack of interest only fueled Harry's frustration.
Clenching his fists, Harry turned to Dumbledore, his voice firm. "Put that spell on me that lets everyone hear you," he demanded, his gaze sharp.
Dumbledore nodded, casting Sonorus on him, and Harry turned to face the hall, his voice strong as he addressed the students.
"I saved Hermione tonight," he began, his tone hard, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Not because of her blood status or to earn favors. I saved her because she's a student, just like all of you." He paused, letting his words sink in, his gaze unwavering as he looked over the silent faces before him.
"She was alone, terrified, hiding in the bathroom because she was bullied for something she can't control." His words were pointed, his gaze narrowing as he addressed the students who looked away uncomfortably. "If she had died tonight, her blood would have been on all of you."
The tension in the hall was palpable, students exchanging uneasy glances as Harry's words cut through them.
"I won't stand by and watch that happen to anyone else," he continued, his voice dropping to a growl. "If I catch anyone bullying another student, you'll answer to me first. Then to Dumbledore. You'll be named and shamed in front of the entire school. Am I clear?"
A heavy silence filled the hall as students looked away, avoiding his gaze. Harry's patience wore thin, and he raised his voice, his tone commanding. "AM I CLEAR?"
The silence broke as murmurs of agreement spread through the hall, a few students nodding reluctantly.
Satisfied, Harry turned to Hermione, offering her a reassuring smile before leading her to the Hufflepuff table. He helped her sit down between Susan and Hannah, both of whom welcomed her with gentle smiles and supportive words. Hermione looked around, still shaken but comforted by their kindness.
Harry took his seat beside Cedric and Neville, his expression finally relaxing as he allowed himself to unwind. Cedric placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, his voice warm with admiration. "Harry, that was… you did something incredible."
Neville nodded, his face full of gratitude. "You stood up for her, Harry… you made a difference."
Dumbledore watched from the staff table, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of pride as he observed the students around Harry, their admiration evident. For the first time, Dumbledore understood that Harry didn't need control or guidance. He simply needed to be allowed to grow into his own person, to become the young man he was destined to be.
As Harry looked over at Hermione, who was talking quietly with Susan and Hannah, a faint smile finally appearing on her face. He felt a quiet sense of satisfaction settle within him.
Tonight had been a turning point—not just for Hermione, but for him and the school itself. He had faced down a troll, protected a fellow student, and challenged the entire school to be better.
As Harry, Cedric and Neville began talking, a strange sound filled the hall—a soft, continuous rush like pouring sand. Everyone turned toward the house point hourglasses, which sat at the far end of the hall. Harry followed the gaze of the other students, watching in confusion as sand poured rapidly into the Ravenclaw hourglass. The blue sand cascaded down, filling the bottom faster than anyone had ever seen, each grain representing a single point.
Gasps and murmurs spread across the tables as it became clear just how many points were being added. Ten buckets' worth of blue sand now glimmered at the bottom of the Ravenclaw hourglass, sparkling with an almost magical sheen. It was an unprecedented amount, and students from every house exchanged shocked glances, their eyes widening as they realized what this meant.
"Blimey," a Gryffindor muttered, his jaw dropping as he stared up at the hourglass. "Did every professor give him points?"
"Almost every one," a Ravenclaw beside Harry whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "That has to be hundreds… even Snape must have given him points. And McGonagall… Flitwick…"
Harry felt a strange warmth rise in his chest as he looked over at the teachers' table. Each of them, from McGonagall to Flitwick, was watching him with expressions of pride and respect. He could see that they each recognized the gravity of what he had done—and they'd rewarded him accordingly.
All except one.
Quirrell sat stiffly, his hands twitching under the table. Harry's sharp hearing picked up faint mutterings, the professor whispering under his breath in a voice filled with something far darker than the usual nervous quiver. Harry focused, straining his enhanced hearing to catch the words.
"Yes, Master…" Quirrell murmured, his eyes narrowing as he kept his gaze fixed on the Ravenclaw hourglass. "The boy grows more troublesome each day… but I am keeping watch… We will find our moment…"
A chill ran through Harry as he caught the words, their sinister undertone striking a warning bell in his mind. He glanced away, his gaze shifting back to the Ravenclaw table where his friends were beaming at him, oblivious to the strange whispers from Quirrell.
Susan gave him a bright smile, clearly thrilled by the points Ravenclaw had earned. "Harry, look at that! You're in the lead, and by a mile! You're a legend!" She practically bounced in her seat, her enthusiasm contagious.
Hannah nodded in agreement, laughing. "Harry, you've just made Hogwarts history again! The teachers never give this many points at once. And to think you got points from Snape, of all people! For the third time!"
Harry managed a small, proud grin, feeling a mixture of humility and pride at their words. He knew he had earned this recognition through more than just bravery—he'd shown everyone the value of standing up for those who needed help, regardless of their blood status or past prejudices.
Across the hall, Dumbledore watched Harry closely, his expression thoughtful. He glanced briefly at Quirrell, a shadow passing over his gaze as he caught the faintest hint of the professor's mutterings. But he quickly returned his attention to Harry, his smile warm as he nodded approvingly.
The evening settled into a quiet hum as students continued to chatter, their conversations buzzing with excitement over the dramatic events of the day and the sheer number of points added to Ravenclaw's hourglass. Harry, meanwhile, felt a sense of satisfaction that went beyond points, fame, or recognition. Tonight, he had been more than just the Boy Who Lived—he had been someone who could stand up for others, challenge wrongs, and inspire change.
A month passed as December brought a fresh chill to the air, Hogwarts buzzed with excitement over the approaching Christmas holidays. For most students, Christmas was a time of warmth and family. But for Harry, Christmas was something much deeper—something that symbolized a rare reprieve from the torment he endured during his years under Project Mutant. Christmas, New Year's Eve, and New Year's Day had been the only days when the experiments would stop, offering him a brief moment of peace. From his cage, he had counted each day of December, marking off the days until he could finally have those few moments of rest.
This year, however, things were different. He wasn't spending Christmas in a dark lab; he was going home with people he considered family. Harry had packed eagerly alongside Susan, Hannah, Neville, and Hermione—his new friends who would all be celebrating the holidays together. Cedric and his friends were going abroad, but the small group of first years had their own plans. The five of them made their way down from their respective houses, chatting excitedly as they headed toward the Great Hall for the leaving feast.
Harry went to the Ravenclaw table, while Neville and Hermione joined the Gryffindor table, and Susan and Hannah sat at Hufflepuff. Since the Halloween incident, Harry's rescue of Hermione had changed the atmosphere at Hogwarts and even in the wider wizarding world. The news had spread across the country, causing a shift in attitudes. While there was still a cautious wariness around muggleborns, the outright hatred had simmered down. However, animosity toward Muggles had only increased, fueled by a tragic story in the Daily Prophet about a young muggleborn boy killed by his deeply religious family for performing accidental magic.
Harry, true to his word, had kept a sharp eye on bullying. On more than one occasion, he had publicly shamed those who targeted other students, making examples of them in front of the whole school. Ernest Macmillan, a Hufflepuff in Harry's year, was one such student. After being called out by Harry, Ernest had eventually apologized to the boy he had bullied, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and the two had surprisingly become friends.
As Harry sat down with his fellow Ravenclaws, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, he felt a sense of belonging that had been entirely foreign to him before Hogwarts. Over the past few weeks, he had grown close to Terry and Anthony, forging a camaraderie with the two boys who shared his thirst for knowledge and mischief alike. They began piling their plates with sweets, their eyes gleaming at the abundance of desserts, only for Susan to walk up behind them.
"Eat proper food, then have your damn sweets," she said sternly, waving a shoe in her hand.
Before any of the three boys could react, she gave Harry a solid whack on the shoulder with her shoe. Harry didn't even flinch, though he let out an exaggerated groan, while Terry and Anthony quickly recoiled, rubbing their arms and grimacing.
"Same goes for you two!" she added, giving Terry and Anthony a pointed look as she held the shoe aloft.
Grumbling under their breaths, the boys reluctantly placed their sugary treats back on the table and instead began piling their plates with actual food. The sight drew chuckles from the students around them, and even a few professors shared a knowing smile. Susan, it seemed, had taken on the role of an impromptu mother to the three of them, at least when it came to ensuring they ate a balanced meal.
As Harry dug into his food, he couldn't help but notice how much he had changed in the short time he'd been at Hogwarts. He had come in wary and untrusting, yet here he was, surrounded by friends and genuine warmth.
"Couldn't help but notice you all went straight for the sugar, eh?" Hannah teased from her spot at the Hufflepuff table, smirking as she watched Harry and the boys reluctantly eat their vegetables.
"Oh, hush up, Abbott," Harry replied, sticking his tongue out at her playfully. "We'll get to the sweets. Just wait."
Neville, sitting at the Gryffindor table, chuckled along with Hermione, who had grown more comfortable with the group over the past weeks. Her eyes sparkled with a quiet joy that Harry hadn't seen when she'd first arrived, and he couldn't help but feel a little responsible for that.
After they'd finally finished their main courses, Harry and his friends dove into the sweets with all the enthusiasm they had held back during dinner. They laughed as they traded treats across tables, Susan keeping a watchful eye to make sure they didn't overdo it.
Finally, Dumbledore rose from his seat at the staff table, his bright blue eyes twinkling as he looked over the students with a warm smile. He raised his hands to quiet the chatter, and the hall fell silent, all eyes turning to him as he prepared to give his usual end-of-term speech.
"Another term has come and gone, and it is always a joy to see the hall filled with laughter and excitement as we prepare for the holidays," he began, his voice carrying easily through the hall. "As some of you return home to your families, I hope that you take with you the warmth and spirit of Hogwarts. And for those who remain here over the holidays, know that Hogwarts is as much a home as any place in the world."
Harry felt a surge of gratitude as Dumbledore spoke. Hogwarts really had become a home to him in ways he'd never expected. The tables broke out into applause as Dumbledore took his seat once more, and the students resumed their feasting, laughter and conversation filling the hall once again.
After the feast, as the tables cleared, Harry gathered with his friends, the excitement of going home building among them.
"Well, Potter," Susan said with a grin, "this time, you've got a real family waiting for you. And don't think I won't keep an eye on your eating habits over Christmas, either."
Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "As if I'd expect anything less from you, Bones."
The group laughed, their voices echoing in the grand hall as they began to gather their things, ready to make their way to the carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade Station.
As they walked out of the hall, a few lingering students watched with curious gazes, whispering among themselves about the group and Harry's influence on the atmosphere at Hogwarts. His fierce loyalty and his actions on Halloween had shifted something fundamental in the school. He had made it clear that bullying and prejudice would not be tolerated, and students now thought twice before acting out against anyone, knowing that Harry would call them out without hesitation.
Outside, a light snow had begun to fall, dusting the castle grounds in a soft blanket of white. The group made their way to the carriages, their breath fogging in the chilly air, their laughter carrying through the stillness of the night.
When they finally boarded the Hogwarts Express, the warmth and coziness of the train was a welcome contrast to the cold outside. Harry, Susan, Hannah, Neville, and Hermione settled into a compartment together, their luggage stowed, ready for the journey back to the Bones' home, where they would celebrate Christmas together.
As the train began to move, Harry gazed out the window, watching the snowy landscape slip by. He could hardly believe how far he'd come since those dark days under Project Mutant. Now he had friends, a family, and a sense of belonging he had never dreamed of. The thought of spending Christmas with people who cared about him filled him with a warmth that even the Christmases of his past, despite the break from experiments, had never provided.
For the first time ever, Harry felt like he was truly at safe and at home...