AN: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding World Universe.

Chapter 8

Harry was glad to be known for the firstie who led a fully-grown Mountain Troll toward the Great Hall, not for the Boy-Who-Lived or the Duffer-Who-Lived. Professor Sprout was livid to learn that the troll was lurking outside the Hufflepuff Common Room door.

The worst part was that two trolls were in the corridors on Halloween. A professor found it stuck in the bathroom on the second floor. The ghost of a dead girl was crying and drew its attention, or at least that's what Ernie Macmillan said. How it got on the second floor was anyone's guess. How either one of the notoriously stupid but dangerous beasts got in the Castle at all was the talk of the school.

"Potter, I wish I'd seen it. You running and screaming from a troll," Malfoy jeered in Transfiguration the next day.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the bully. He didn't think Malfoy or his cronies would have done much better.

"Bugger him," Macmillan snorted. "Just remember to bring friends with you next time," he winked.

Harry shook his head. He was not about to search for another stupid troll. Seeing one was enough for one lifetime if he could help it.

Susan Bones was not at all happy about the events the previous night. "Dumbledore needs to take our protection more seriously. I know you got away, but Harry… you got lucky. If it was waiting outside the Common Room and you walked out into it," she said with a shiver.

"I heard Merriweather this morning," Daisy grinned. She ran a hand through her straw-colored long hair. "They found the partial remains of a deer in the corner where Potter said he saw it."

Harry frowned. Why would the troll drag its meal through the castle only to eat it outside a Common Room? The answer was simple: it didn't. Someone led it there. He grimaced and looked at Susan and Ernie. They both had grim expressions.

"Do you think our Common Room was the closest?" Lowe asked quietly. "Or was someone targeting someone in particular?" she continued with a pointed look at Harry.

"That will be enough chatter," Professor McGonagall said as she swept across the room.

"We are going over the Transfiguration Alphabet since many of you," she said with a pointed look at a few students, Harry included, "did not adequately explain each symbol and their meaning in their essays from Tuesday. This is the very foundation of all Transfiguration going forward."

Harry took notes and paid attention, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was indeed a target or if someone just wanted a troll to get someone from Hufflepuff. How could they know Harry was even in the Common Room and not up at the feast with everyone else?

"I expect you'll get a visit from Professor Sprout," Ernie said quietly with a look at Professor McGonagall's back. When he was sure she didn't hear him, he said quietly, "She was looking for you this morning, but you slipped out early."

Harry nodded. He hadn't been able to sleep, and as soon as curfew lifted at six in the morning, he went to the Kitchen and then to the Library.

His Housemate's prediction came true at three o'clock on the dot. Head Girl Merriweather stood in the corridor outside History of Magic. "Mr. Potter, do you have a moment?" she asked.

"You must be joking," Malfoy spat. "You can do better than Potter here."

The Hufflepuff Head Girl turned to him. "He, unlike you, has manners. Be about your business," she ordered, her chin rising as she looked down her nose at the smaller boy.

"Another Mudblood, you can tell by the nose," the prat muttered under his breath as he turned away.

Clearly, Draco thought he was either far enough away or that the Head Girl wouldn't do anything. "That is ten points from Slytherin for blood slurs. Say another, I dare you, snake. I am proud of my parents and parentage."

"You would be," Malfoy sneered as he slunk up the corridor faster than necessary. Even his fellow Slytherins looked uncomfortable as they left the classroom, not looking at the older student.

Harry waited for the Head Girl to speak. However, she just looked at him for a long moment. "The professor wants to talk with you… about last night. That was your spell that knocked the club into the troll and then cut the stone merlin in half, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded once. She pursed her lips, her dark eyes flicking over him.

"Good Charms work," she said, looking up and down the corridor. "Whenever you want to do the potion Professor Sprout gave you, just let me know. The sooner, the better. Unfortunately, I have N.E.W.T.s this year, and I'm already behind in my coursework," she admitted.

Harry nodded. "Whenever you want," he said softly. "It… isn't all that important."

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his before looking up at his scar. The Head Girl frowned and ran her fingers through her hair, shaking them slightly when they got stuck. "Tomorrow morning will be best. Can you be up around six or seven?" she asked.

He nodded.

Professor Sprout was in her office. When he knocked, it opened without any assistance. The squat witch smiled at him and waved him in. "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. Do you mind if I call you Harry? At least while we're in here? Mr. Potter, this and Mr. Potter that is a bit of a mouthful, and I also want to give you my warmest thanks and sincerest apology for last night," the Head of House said as she swept him up in a big hug.

Harry froze. His body just locked up when her arms went round him. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn't going to pick him up and forcibly take off his pants for a welting.

Something happened between the time the professor put her arms around him and when he was aware of her again. It was just a blank spot. He sat on the edge of the chair, and for a moment, he thought he'd imagined it. What he didn't imagine was tears in the older witch's eyes. He couldn't figure out why that was.

Looking around, Harry didn't see anything out of place. He knew his body didn't hurt, so she hadn't done anything. Did he do something to her?

"Sorry, professor," he said quickly, in case he had.

If anything, that made things worse. Fresh tears appeared in her eyes and threatened to fall. "No, I am sorry, Mr… Potter," she said slowly. "I know better than to hug someone without their permission."

So he had hurt her. It happened to Vernon once, and from that point on, he was only hit through his clothes. He hadn't meant for whatever happened to Vernon, just like Professor Sprout.

"Sorry I hurt you, professor," he said softly.

A look crossed over her face. Confusion. That was clear. "You… didn't. Did… no, I will not pry unless you want to tell me. You did not hurt me, Mr. Potter. I… I just wanted to thank you for being smart and running away from the troll."

Harry couldn't help it; he snorted. She gave him a wide smile.

"Yes, I imagine the last thing you would want to do is hang around if you saw that in a dark corner of the corridor. Do you mind letting me know what happened? From the moment you left Professor Snape's classroom? I'm not angry you needed to miss your Defense class; just trying to understand the events. You are more than welcome to write it all down if that would be easier," she said softly.

Harry thought about it. He didn't want to have to come back to give it to the professor. There were a few things in the Library he wanted to read up on, specifically Mountain Trolls, so he would know what to do if he ever saw one again; apart from running in the other direction as quickly as possible.

"I… well… it was Halloween and... I... my parents," he said slowly.

It took him a while, and his throat hurt from speaking so much. Professor Sprout got him a nice, heavily honeyed tea to help him finish the story. When he finally finished, she gave him another wide smile.

"I am proud of you. Not only did you think about others, you also turned to help. Take twenty points for your efforts, Mr. Potter," she said with a smile.

Harry likely owed Hufflepuff another thirty points from just what Professor Snape took in class during the first month. So far, he hadn't been docked points except in two instances where his partner hadn't made the best of decisions.

"Thank you," he croaked out. He hated his voice and took another long drink of the tea. A realization struck him, and he sat up quickly. "Thank you… for the potion too, professor."

If possible, her smile widened. "You are more than welcome. I spoke with Merriweather, and she is happy to help whenever you decide to make the potion. It is simply a precaution, as you've likely discovered in Potions. One misstep and you may have something corrosive you put on your skin instead of a soother and a concealer."

Harry nodded. He wouldn't mention that the Head Girl wasn't as thrilled as the professor thought. It wasn't like he understood. He wouldn't want to go out of his way to stand around and babysit someone doing a potion. Not when she had… newts… or whatever it was. Was she raising salamanders? He remembered something about newts, but the only thing that came to mind was Newt Scamander, the author of one of his books.

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?" the professor asked.

Harry shook his head and finished the last of the tea. He placed the cup and saucer on the table.

"Well, you have a wonderful weekend. You don't have to do this, but could you spend more time with Miss Bones? I have a feeling she might be feeling a little homesick, and some extra company wouldn't be a bad thing. You are not required to do so; I just know that she quite likes your company, even as quiet as you are."

Harry considered the request. He liked his fellow first-years for the most part. Finch-Fletchley, Gordon, Jones, and Green were the only ones that Harry didn't like interacting with all that much. He nodded and considered how he could read, and still… what? Sit near her? She always had Abbott, Harper, Lowe, and Macmillan around her. He didn't see how his presence would matter much, but it wasn't like they stopped him from reading.

The Common Room was busy when he finally finished in the Library. He obviously wasn't the only one who wanted to know more about trolls, and most of the books were already in use or had been checked out. He'd make a note to come back later that weekend. Madam Pince instead recommended a book on Transfiguration. He hadn't realized she was tracking his progress of books he checked out. So far, that was the one subject he hadn't asked for yet.

Thinking about a list, he realized he hadn't looked at Professor Flitwick's recommendation list in a while. He passed groups of Hufflepuffs who greeted him with a wave or a smile. No one seemed upset by the events of the previous day. If anything, most saw it as some grand event for Halloween.

"Oh? Need something, Harry?" Hannah asked when he sat down at the table in the Common Room near the back. A small but wide fireplace was lit a few feet away. Abbott, Bones, Macmillan, and Harper looked to be doing their homework.

"No?" he said slowly and made to rise.

"No, no, sit. It's just that you don't normally sit with us… or really anywhere other than the Library or your dormitory," Hannah said quickly. She winced and shot an accusatory look at Macmillan, who seemed strangely interested in his quill tip.

Harry sat back down and looked at them all. They looked at him.

"So… need to do homework?" Harper asked with a smirk. He had his dark hair slicked back.

"Yes."

They all looked at each other and then back at him. He realized that they were waiting for him to unpack his things. After a minute, he looked up at them, and they still stared at him. He looked at his robes to ensure he didn't have lunch on them.

"Harry… why do you have four books on Transfiguration?" Susan asked slowly as she craned her neck to the side to read the covers.

"Homework?" he answered carefully.

They all looked at each other and then back to him. Was he doing something wrong? Madam Pince was clear, and so was Mr. Flitwick. Professor Flitwick, he corrected himself. Always use multiple references when researching a topic.

Macmillan scratched the side of his head with the tip of his wand. "Well… okay? Maybe we're doing something wrong," he said with a shrug.

That settled it for the others, even if it confused Harry. He set to work on the Transfiguration Alphabet, checking each book for different meanings and definitions. Before he started his essay, he had five parchments full of notes.

"Okay, that settles it," Harper snorted. "We are the ones doing something wrong. Potter, can you explain what you're doing? That isn't even your essay."

Harry looked up and saw the others staring at him. "Uh…" he eloquently said as he fumbled for words.

"Yes… that explained it well," Macmillan grinned. Bones hit him lightly on the arm. She kept her eyes on Harry.

"I'm… looking up different meanings and making notes. Then I'll write the essay with all the information," he answered after a moment.

The others looked at each other. As one, they looked back at Harry. Abbott, by some magical unspoken consent, spoke first. "That… actually sounds brilliant… and we should have thought of it. You don't write the essay from just what is in the required coursebook, do you?" she asked.

Harry shook his head and passed his notes to her. The new idea to check other books came from Professor Flitwick in Flourish and Blotts. He'd already done the same thing for Dudley but with only one book. If they wrote about the same thing, then the teacher would know his cousin copied Harry's work, or more likely, Harry copied from Dudley. It was much harder to do two homeworks with one book than it was to do his with a couple of books.

The others looked at his notes for several minutes and muttered to themselves and between each other. Once or twice, one of them would look at Harry and then back to his notes.

"What is the H and the D for?" Bones asked.

Harry grimaced. The H was what he would write for him and D for Dudley, but they wouldn't know about that. Anything with an H next to it was what he would turn in to the professors.

"Uh…" he muttered.

"Don't worry about it," she said with a wave as she returned to reading.

"Does anyone else feel like we should really rewrite our essays," Harper sighed as she passed one of the parchments back to Harry.

"I really wish you'd joined us earlier," Abbott added with a shake of her head.

"All in favor of not rewriting our stuff," Macmillan asked as he looked around the table. Shockingly, no one raised their hand. He turned to Harry. "So, do you mind explaining what you do, how you do it, and how we can help the process? Each of us chose one part of the assignment, like mine was G for Gamp's Law, H for Homogeneity, I for Intention, J for Jump Complexity, and K for Kinetic Force. We did our reading and brought it all together to write our essays on the most important parts of the Transfiguration Alphabet."

Harry frowned and looked at his notes. The others seemed content to let him think in silence for a bit. "What… if we each took a book and used the index to check?" he proposed.

Four open hands appeared in front of him. He blinked at them.

They worked until dinner, and for some strange reason, they were happy to review everything again.

"We're about to head up. You four, oh, hello, Potter," an older student greeted. She had long, braided auburn hair and dimples when she smiled. "You five," she amended with another look at him, "are normally done before now. Did you run into an issue with the Transfiguration Alphabet? I know it can be a little confusing at first."

"No, we finished… but our friend gave us a new idea that we wanted to try," Abbott said with a smirk.

The older Hufflepuff looked at Harry and then back to Hannah. "Well? Did it work?" she asked, her smile never leaving her face.

"You tell me," Macmillan said as he held up his finished essay over his head. He hadn't turned around to look at the older student.

Harry watched as the witch took the parchment and began to read. Her smile dropped. After a moment, her lips pursed, and she looked up at all of them. Then, she looked back at the homework and continued to read.

They waited in silence for several minutes until she finished. "This… is good. Really good," she said as her eyes went to Harry and then moved to the rest of them. "Are all of your essays like this one?" she asked.

Susan shook her head. "Harry said we each needed to do our own, or the professor would think we were cheating."

The older student nodded and glanced at him again. She handed the parchment back to Ernie. "I wouldn't have expected to read some of that from a first-year," she admitted. "Likely, Professor McGonagall won't either. Just be aware of that and be able to explain how you got your… rather detailed answers. I suggest taking that large pile of notes with you to class."

They all nodded.

Harry got up early the next morning. He took the box with the ingredients and instructions with him into the Common Room. Head Girl Merriweather was at one of the tables, several books spread out in front of her. He took a seat and waited for her to see him. She was concentrating on the book and writing on a parchment at the same time.

After several minutes, she blinked and looked up at him. "Oh, sorry. Is it already that time?" she asked as she looked around at the clock on the wall.

Harry nodded. "We can do this later," he said softly.

The Head Girl grimaced and looked back at her parchment. She shook her head and started cleaning up. Harry shook his head and stood. "It… isn't really that important," he said. "When you have time, I can do it then."

The older student looked conflicted.

"I'm tired," Harry lied. "I might mess it up anyway."

A flat expression came over the older student's pretty features. She knew he was lying. "Mr. Potter, let me clean up, and I'll take you to one of the practice rooms."

Harry took a deep breath. "No."

She looked a little taken aback. "It's no trouble," she said as she started to rise.

"No," he reiterated. "You are behind. I am not. This," he said as he lifted the box, "isn't that important. It…" he said as he trailed off, trying to find the words.

"Just something that came to mind?" she guessed. "Professor Sprout tends to take what we ask for seriously. She wants what is best for us, even if we don't know what it is yet. I know I was a lost girl when I first got to Hogwarts. She helped me become who I am. She helped Tonks become what she wanted to be. I heard the hellion got a spot to try out for the Aurors, one of few in the last several years. If you have a goal, our Head of House will ensure you achieve it."

Harry nodded, looking down at the gift. "I'd rather read than make a potion anyway," he grinned and returned to his dormitory.

Harry was not amused by the others as they pushed, prodded, pleaded, and cajoled him into attending the first Quidditch match of the term. It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, so he didn't think he needed to go. He wouldn't have minded supporting Hufflepuff, but he had better things to do.

"You'll be even more weird if you don't go to the match," Hannah explained with a heavy sigh. She had a put-upon expression that Harry didn't find amusing.

"Mate, listen, it's like two, maybe three hours of your day. You get to be in the sun, which you need. You look paler than the Fat Friar," Ernie said.

"Your girlfriend Merriweather is going," Green laughed.

The others looked at the rail-thin boy and shook their head. He was the only one who tried to tease Harry about getting up early to study with the Head Girl before class. Everyone else thought he was just crazy. She had excellent ideas on how to study and best manage her time as a Head Girl with all those responsibilities and keeping up with five N.E.W.T.s. She'd finally explained, while laughing hard, that they weren't salamanders but rather the Nastily Exhausting Wizard Tests needed for higher magic qualifications.

"Anyway, you're going, and you're going to like it," Hopkins grinned. Harry knew his dormmate was joking. At least, he hoped he was.

Several other Hufflepuffs turned toward the greenhouses. Harry squinted and looked at Bones. "Don't look at me. I would rather still be in bed. It's these nutters who want to see the game. We can slip back once the match starts," she grinned.

That caused a minor argument that wasn't very heated. Abbott and a few of the other boys were avid Quidditch fans. When her best friend said it was because of Diggory, her face went pink, and she glared at Susan.

The Hogwarts Quidditch Stadium was a little ways from the Castle. Made of wood with several towers, the narrow stairs up to the seven-tiered stands took forever to climb with all the students attending. There were four distinct sections for each of the Houses, and the towers were for teachers to watch. He spotted a wider box in the middle of the stands that separated the halfway point on the well-manicured rectangular pitch.

At the end of each side of the stadium, within the white bounds of the pitch, were three large golden hoops of varying heights. The posts holding the hoops were high in the air, a little higher than the uppermost seating. A large scoreboard was on the opposite side of the wide box. It read Gryffindor: 0 and Slytherin: 0 in large black letters.

"You always want a middle-row seat," an excited male voice said.

"No, you want a front-row seat so that you can see the whole pitch," another argued.

Harry just followed the others and got a seat near the top. He could see the pitch just fine from where he sat.

With Abbott on one side and Macmillan on the other. He had to listen to them prattle on about the rules, strategies, and various other specific things to watch for. Nodding along, he tried to look interested.

Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor, was the commentator in the wide box. Professor McGonagall sat with him.

Once the game started, Harry had to admit that it was cool to see the red ball, that he'd already forgotten the name of, passed back and forth at break-neck speeds on brooms. His Housemates reminded him quickly that it was called a Quaffle. He was impressed that the Quaffle only dropped to the pitch a few times. If it were him up there, he'd have probably dropped it as soon as someone passed it to him.

The play styles of the two teams were also vastly different. Oliver Wood was the Keeper for Gryffindor. That position's job was to guard the three rings from letting a Chaser score through one of the hoops. Wood was also the Team Captain, so he directed his team toward high-risk, high-reward plays. At least, that's how Macmillan saw it. Harry wouldn't know what plays were risky. He just knew when someone scored a goal in one of the three rings.

The Slytherins, also captained by a Keeper named Bletchley, used brute force and received several penalties in the first thirty minutes. Abbott did not like their team or the Slytherins in general. She kept calling them cheaters, to which Susan patted her friend's hand and continued to watch the game.

The ones who handled the Quaffle, called Chasers, were fun to watch, but the Beaters were just as interesting. Two people on each team had short clubs that hit enchanted balls called Bludgers toward the enemy team to disrupt play or to take out an opponent. To make things more chaotic, there were two of the Bludgers on the field that could come from any direction.

Harry shook his head. The entire sport was insanity. He hadn't seen much football when living with the Dursleys, but at least they only had to keep track of one ball, and the only danger was their abysmal acting skills. It felt like every ten minutes in the matches, someone would hold their leg and cry on the field only to get up when the referee either ignored them or put up a colored card. That certainly wasn't the case with Quidditch. Some of the hits he witnessed would have sent those football players to the bench in absolute tears.

Madam Hooch, the Flying Professor, was the referee, and she didn't do a good job, according to Abbott and Macmillan. They thought she should have called several fouls. That sounded about right for sports in the Muggle world, too. Vernon said the refs didn't have eyes or were bought off.

The match finally ended when Terence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, caught some elusive golden ball with wings called the Snitch. That somehow awarded the team one hundred and fifty points. The Gryffindor Chasers, Beaters, and Keeper had done a fantastic job keeping ahead, but they still lost because their Seeker didn't see the golden ball. He sat on his broom, looking around, dodging a few Bludgers sent his way, and completely missed when Higgs dove for the ground.

"Well, at least it was a close game," Macmillan said with a shrug.

Harry listened to the other Hufflepuffs and eventually other students as everyone returned to the Castle. The game had taken about an hour, which was nice. Maybe the others were right about watching the game… but he could have read another chapter in the same amount of time.