Reviews:

Pyromania101: This chapter does have the most action so far, I hope you enjoy. I also aim to keep building up more interactions between Harry and the Hogwarts kids and his confidant on Paradis as well.

Kyred: Well, I have up to chapter 10 already written and ready to go, as well as up to chapter 21 outlined and mapped out but I'm aiming for more of a weekly or bi-weekly release for each. I also wanted Harry to not be confined to just a specific group of people in this story and have him be more active and assertive in what he wants. As for Ymir, more and more will be revealed about her in the coming chapters (chapter 12 being mainly focused on her).

god of all: Thank you! I'm glad that you're enjoying so far.

Guest: I'm certainly glad that you're enjoying the story so far. Love to see the enthusiasm.

Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling and Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan is owned by Hajime Isayama. I own nothing

Chapter 7: Kill

Harry did not hear anything from Ymir when the time came for him to retake his History of Magic quiz. Professor McGonagall had permitted him to retake it in her classroom during a free period. The knowledge that he was under her careful watch and not Professor Binns' drowsy stare actually made him concentrate much harder, finding his mind to be clear when he went over each of the questions. Not once did he feel the urge or compulsion to write anything about Paradis Island or anything related to the sort. And by the time he handed it back to Professor McGonagall, he felt confident that he hadn't fluked it by as much as he had done the first time.

But the knowledge of a failed quiz wasn't the top priority on his mind, rather, he was trying his hardest to decipher Ymir's parting words about her relation to the woman of the same name. When he asked her about it, she was… hesitant to give a concrete answer.

Look, I know that I don't understand, but I'm trying to, Harry pleaded with her. Just tell me, are you some sort of ghost or something? I have to know.

'What - no. No, I'm not a ghost. I'm not haunting you or anything like that.' He could almost feel her hesitation. 'I- I don't even really know how to properly explain it, alright.'

How about just telling the truth? Harry pushed further. You said to me before that you would never lie to me. Have you changed your mind about that?

'No! No, I wouldn't do that!' clear desperation had taken root in her voice. 'Please, I haven't lied to you about anything. I'm not a ghost, I'm not a demon or a god, I'm just…' she searched to find the right words. 'Just a normal girl. I'm telling you the truth.'

And Harry did believe her. But…

Not all of it.

'Harry…'

I want to know what you meant by what you said. Because of this… whatever it is that's connecting us, I messed up pretty bad. How do we know that something like that won't happen again and what happens if one of us ends up getting hurt because of it? He was sure that she would seek her father out if anything actually did happen, but what was a man on a foreign island going to do for a kid far away in a school of magic?

I need to know what you meant by that.

'...' She was silent, maybe too afraid or ignorant to give a cohesive answer. 'I… I don't really…'

Just tell me! Harry gave into a spike of aggression. Even if it was unwarranted, she knew more than she was letting on and he knew it, too. Whatever it is, just tell me, already!

'What do you know about souls?' she asked quite suddenly.

Huh? Souls? I don't really… What is this about?! Was she trying to purposely confuse him to throw him off topic or something?

'Souls,' she repeated, sounding calm despite Harry's little mental outburst. 'I asked what you know about them.'

I… we all have them, don't we - people, humans, I mean. We all have one. What does that have to you? He had never actually been to church, but virtually everyone on Privet Drive attended and he often overheard talk when he tended to his aunt's garden.

'Because I have a soul. And so do you.'

I could have guessed, Harry dryly remarked.

'So what do you think happens to our souls when we pass on?' she asked. 'What happens to them? Where do they go?'

It sounds like you're talking about the afterlife, Harry noted, curious to see where she was taking this. Are you just trying to build up to tell me that you're dead?

'That's not what I'm doing. And I told you, I'm not a ghost.' She made sure that he was on the same page as her about that. 'If an afterlife is what you want to call it, would you believe in it?'

If it at all explains who you are and how you're connected to me… yeah, I'd say I'd be willing to believe it. And to think, just a few weeks ago he was living on the most boring street with the notion that magic wasn't real.

Those seemed like such simpler times.

'And would you also believe that there was a way to… transcend, I guess is a good word, between what is real and what lies beyond?'

Again, if it helps explain what is going on with you and me, I'll hear you out. He felt that she was getting close to telling him what she was leading up to. What is that way?

'I don't think there is any one official name for it, but those who had seen it just called it the Paths Dimension.'

There are others who have the same thing? If that was to be believed, would he start being able to talk to them as well? How many more were there exactly? Were they all over the world too, or just on Paradis?

'Well, I don't think it's the same as what you and I are able to do, but, yes, there were select others who could fully utilize the power of the Paths.'

What kind of power? Harry asked. It doesn't sound like something as simple as walking down a single pathway home and then winding up on a completely different one down the street.

'You're right on that, because they aren't actual paths that anybody can walk on,' she explained. 'I guess you can say that they serve more as a guideline - shards, memories, gut instinct that help make decisions.'

So… when I was first taking that quiz, my mind just… unknowingly traveled one of these Paths? Harry said (or rather, thought) it out loud. And just what does that have to do with your name?

'It seems plausible to me,' she offered as helpfully as she could which didn't amount to much. 'As for the name Ymir, it is one of great importance, or despair, depending on who you're asking. It was through that name that the Paths were even a thing. I'm just a normal girl, as I've said. More or less the same as you.'

Well, that clarifies some things a bit. At least now he believed that she wasn't a ghost in his head. And since you and I apparently share a Path somehow, I was able to answer based on what happened in your people's history, Harry conveyed that statement with less skepticism and just a tad of confusion. He supposed that it wasn't impossible since one of the things Professor McGonagall was trying to instill in their minds was that in order for something to change, there needs to be a clear way for it to do so.

If these Paths were anything like magic, and it was sure sounding like they were, then there was some sort of system to it all. In order for Ymir and him to even be having this mental conversation, there had to exist the possibility for it to begin with. She had even just previously said that this power was almost like a guide in some areas. If he really was connected to a Path...

Hey, Ymir, he mentally conveyed.

'Yes?' she responded quickly. 'You have another question about what they are?'

I guess. He was honest. If what you said about the Paths being a power to guide, what does that mean exactly? Has anyone ever used it for that before?

His question seemed to have made her go silent. He heard nothing. He couldn't even really picture her by his side as he usually could.

Ymir…? He asked with cautious curiosity. He still remembered her temper when he had overstepped his boundaries.

'Yes, I heard you,' she then replied.

And…? Harry pressed but left the question hanging for her to answer.

'There was one who was able to use the Paths with the power that he had to actually shape history.'

Wait - what? That had caught him off guard. When Harry first asked that question, he had been hoping to get an answer of how he might be able to fully see her in person one day, not… whatever they had just ended up on.

Are you saying that this person could… time travel? How confusing could this get?

'No. I don't even know if that is possible.' Well, that made it less confusing. 'It was more along the lines of transcending time.'

Nevermind.

That doesn't really make much sense, Harry honestly told her, believing time traveling might actually make much more sense.

'I mean in terms of memory,' she offered, hoping it might clear things up. It didn't. 'What I mean is he had the unique ability of seeing his own future memories. Things that hadn't happened yet, things that were going to, things that could still be changed - he could see them all.'

Like a fortune-teller then, Harry suggested. He was certain that one of the classes for upper-years dealt with prediction with a crystal ball and predicting the future. Whoever this person was would probably be amazing at it.

'Not exactly,' she denied that notion. 'He wouldn't be able to see the future for anyone, just his own memories and whoever may be involved with that. Besides, his power didn't just deal with looking towards the future, he could also show his memories to people from the past to guide them.'

How? Harry instantly asked.

'By transcending time,' she explained lazily. 'Other people before him had the same power, because of it, they were connected by a Path. And if they were connected-,'

Then he could show them what memories he wanted to, Harry concluded. Even without her answer, Harry suspected that he was correct.

'That's right. He was able to show those of the past glimpses of the future, guiding them along so that they could all reach the same goal, no matter how much time it took to get there. He always just kept moving forward.'

And what goal would that be?

Her answer was surprisingly complexly simple.

'To be free.'

Harry figured that changed was imminent when he saw Hagrid hauling over a dozen pumpkins in one morning to the Great Hall. The first month of September had come to a close as a brisker nip of October began to take its place.

"Good mornin', Harry!" Hagrid cheerfully greeted him before going forward into the hall.

"Morning, Hagrid," Harry greeted back to the impossibly large man. "I take it you're decorating."

"Sure is," Hagrid beamed with pride at his abnormally large pumpkins. "Important month fer magic, October is, Halloween an' all tha'."

"I take it it's more than just trick-or-treating with wizards," Harry didn't exactly guess as a question. Even if he had never participated in the event himself, he had seen the hauls of sugary candy Dudley would bring home that night every year. It was nothing short of a miracle that Dudley had not rotted away most of his teeth by now.

"Yeh'd be right," Hagrid nodded, his shaggy hair bouncing along with the movement of his head. "Big night o' magic it is. When Hogwarts firs' opened, Halloween was the night fer the biggest feast."

Well that was certainly going to make one red-headed first-year boy very happy. "But what exactly makes it so special?" Harry pushed the topic.

"Biggest night fer magic, tha's why," Hagrid said, as if it were obvious.

"Hagrid, you do remember where I grew up, don't you?" Harry rhetorically asked.

Recognition dawned on his bearded face. "Oh. Right. Well, witches an' wizards all over believe tha' magic is always strongest during Halloween, see. Even the most basic o' spells will have a bit more o' a kick to 'em." Hagrid explained. "An' not to mention this is also the night when You Know Who vanished all o' a sudden. Lot's o' people are gonna celebrate tha'!"

"Oh, yeah… that." Harry felt his mood drop for a spill.

It hadn't really dawned on him until just now that the anniversary of his parents death was vastly approaching in this month. He had known from Aunt Petunia that Halloween was the night that they died, but that was back when they had been nothing more than just a couple of no-good drunks that carelessly put their lives at stake behind the wheel of a car.

Now, they were apparently two very upstanding students, both very proficient in magic and had even willingly laid down their lives if it meant protecting his own. The difference was a stark contrast.

Hagrid picked up on his sudden sullen demeanor. "Hey now, don' yeh be worryin' 'bout nothin'. Sure, somethin' bad mighta happened back then, but yeh'd survived it - beat it back fer sure. Keep on movin' forward, tha's the best thing to do." Shuffling his arms around trying to make a gesture, one of the pumpkins fell from Hagrid's hold.

The massive pumpkin stopped in midair before it could collide with the stone floor and make a mess for Filch to clean up in his usual stupor.

"Careful, Hagrid," the squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick cautioned as he exited the Great Hall. "I'm sure only Peeves would get a good laugh out of the school decorations being smashed."

"Right. O' course, Professor." Hagrid agreed. He raised his wand and levitated it back up to Hagrid's care. He gave a smile in Harry's direction.

"Ah, Mr. Potter!" Flitwick squeaked. "It seems that you bear witness to the spell we'll be going over quite soon in my class. If you saw my wand movement I daresay you might even have a head start."

"Oh," Harry had caught just a brief flick from the short professor's wand. "I hope so, too."

Flitwick smiled some more. "Either way, you've nothing to worry about. You're an awfully quick learner and I've no doubt that you'll exceed at whatever you set your mind to." He gave the both of them a polite nod of his head. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I've a lesson to finish planning."

"Good man that Flickwick is," Hagrid said after he had left. "The man used to be a professional at dueling, he did."

"Really? For someone his size?" Harry had heard stories that Flitwick was a big name in charms, but he hadn't known that.

"Aw, don' let his sie be foolin' yeh," Hagrid cautioned. "The bigger they is, the harder they fall. I'm sure Flitwick knows tha' jus' the same as me." He turned to meander his way through the doors of the Great Hall, careful of the load that he was carrying.

Leaving Hagrid to go about his task, Harry aimed instead for the central staircase of Hogwarts that was always mixing and moving around, but always seemed to lead students to where they needed to go.

Stepping off one of the moving stairways and onto a steady landing, Harry had to look down to see that he was not alone.

"Mrreew!" the shabby-looking cat meowed up at him.

The cat was one that was easily recognizable throughout the school. She was named Mrs. Norris for reasons fully unknown to most of them, but they all knew of her reputation quite well. She belonged to the caretaker, Mr. Filch, and could usually be seen patrolling the corridors with him as they looked for troublemakers to scold. She was trotting off and along before Harry had even taken another step.

When she came back, she wasn't alone.

"What's this you've led me to, my sweet?" Filch's raspy voice asked as he followed her along. He spotted Harry standing there. "What's this? A first-year not being where he should." He shook his head, his stingy hair shaking with him. "Breaking the rules. Someone always breaking the rules."

"I haven't broken any rules," Harry defended himself, not liking being falsely accused. "I was just standing here. There isn't a rule against that." It may not have been the wisest thing to mouth off to an adult in the school, but considering Filch's distaste for just about every student, just a little bit of cheek wouldn't come close to some of the things the older students said about the caretaker.

Filch snared a nasty smile. "Oh? No rule there isn't? No rule you say?" He pointed at the door of the landing floor that they were on. "What's that say then?"

Observing the notice that had been tacked onto the door, it read:

Third Floor Restricted!

Entrance Permitted by Headmaster Dumbledore Only.

"I didn't know that was there," Harry said, his bit of attitude having faded. "I was just passing by, I wasn't trying to go in there."

Filch narrowed his cruel eyes at Harry, clearly not believing a single thing he had said. "Think you'd be even more famous if you went and died a horrible death like the headmaster said?" Filch asked. "Maybe you'll wish you did if we still kept the old punishments. We'd hang you up by your thumbs, we would!" Filch waved his thumb in Harry's face threateningly. He probably would have continued to have done so had it not been for the crash.

Crrreesshhh!

The sound of something very loud and very heavy echoed from one of the neighboring corridors, instantly grabbing Filch's attention. His weathered face was undergoing a change from cruel to downright murderously annoyed.

"Peeves!" Filch roared as he set off to where he thought the noise originated from. "You wait right there!" Filch yelled back at Harry. "You're not getting out of trouble because of this!"

No sooner did Filch and Mrs. Norris disappeared around one of the staircases, that Harry took off from his spot. He wasn't going to be blamed for something he hadn't or wouldn't do. Even if Filch sought out McGonagall after chasing the resident poltergeist, Harry hoped he was in good enough standing with his head-of-house for her to believe his side of the story.

Reaching the landing of the lower landing, Harry was about to bolt inside before it swung open from the other end to reveal two identical boys with the same flame-red hair as one of his dormmates. They even both had the same matching grin on their faces.

"Did it work?" they both asked him at the exact same time.

"Did… what, work?" Harry asked, confused as to what they were asking of him.

"Did it work?" they both repeated.

"Our new hyper-explosive dungbombs," the one elaborated.

"Been working on them all summer, we have," the other then picked up. "Although, if you're here and not being dragged off to Filch's dungeon-,"

"We take that as a good enough reply," the other then finished the sentence. "Say, Gred, I think it's a bit rude of us that we haven't introduced ourselves yet to our confused underclassman."

"And I am in complete agreement, Forge. Shall we?"

"Just like we practiced?"

"Practice?" he looked almost scandalized. "Who needs when practice when we're-,"

"Fred."

"George."

They both introduced themselves.

"Pleased to meet you," they said together.

That has to be a twin thing, Harry thought as he tried to tell which was which.

'I'm pretty sure we've both thought of the same thing before,' Ymir seemed to counter.

Well, that's different, isn't it?

'Hm.'

"Um, nice to meet you both as well," Harry looked between them. He pointed to one, then the other. "Fred? George?" They both looked surprisingly impressed.

"And here I thought mum was the only one that could tell us apart," George crossed his arms. "We must be losing our touch, dear brother."

"Well… maybe you are," Fred teased his twin. "And mum still has trouble telling us apart if it weren't for those sweaters she makes us every year for Christmas. But aside from having to work on our material, I think our young friend here deserves a well-placed hand."

George nodded and they both gave a brief applause.

"Look at you, mate," Fred appraisingly said. "Only a first-year and already on the road to defying the rules put in place by the cat-loving stooge."

"Reminds me of us when we first stepped through those doors," Geroge supplied. "Oh what good times they were. We were so young, carefree, innocent." Somehow Harry very much doubted that. "But we never would have set our sights to the level of venturing into a forbidden corridor without proper guidance."

"I wasn't trying to sneak in there or anything, I just ended up there, honestly."

"Honesty doesn't really mean much to old Filch," George knowingly informed him.

"But we believe you," Fred assured him of that with a crooked grin. "We weren't just about to let Filch drag you off to rant about wanting to hang you up by your thumbs."

'Hm. That almost sounds like a Zachley punishment.'

Who's that?

'He was the Commander-in-Chief of Paradis' military,' she informed. 'He had a twisted side to him when it came to punishment. He had this custom chair that… actually, nevermind. I don't want to talk about that.'

"Well, thanks for the quick save back there then," Harry thanked them as his mind went to images of purpled thumbs and a chair that had the user upside down as a tube ran from their mouth to somewhere behind them. "But… what were you two doing this close to the third floor anyway?" Harry then asked.

Fred shrugged. "He's got us there, George."

"That he does, Fred," George agreed. "To answer your question-,"

"And honestly, might I add."

"We were planning on scoping out the third floor ourselves."

"Without proper guidance?" Harry used their own phrase against them.

"We got a sharp one here," George smiled to match his brother.

"And who says we don't have guidance?" Fred asked as Harry caught a brief glimpse of him tucking a spare piece of parchment into his back pocket. "But, alas, with Filch on high alert now-,"

"We'll have to put our hunt for eternal glory on hold. But fear not. For we shall return at a later date!"

"And not to mention to cover for you to McGonagall when Filch goes to try and rat you out. As far as anyone needs to know-,"

"We've just been having a friendly little chat about how big a git our prefect of a brother can be sometimes."

"Most of the time."

"All of the time."

"Now, if you'll excuse us-,"

"We have a toilet seat that needs some modifications."

After they had made their departure, Harry gave a quiet laugh.

By the time that Halloween did roll around, things seemed to be as normal as they could be for a school that specializes in training young witches and wizards. There was a slightly more festive feeling about the air that made even the dark and dankest of the dungeons seem a little more alive, but nothing seemed to be entirely out of place. Even the dream Harry had the previous night seemed to be just a tad more coherent than what he was sued to.

It was night out. What appeared to be a chapel of sorts was smoking greatly as the entire front of the structure seemed to have collapsed from the inside. Walking away from the ruin was a man nearing middle-aged with longer dark-brown hair, glasses, and a thin mustache and beard. His coat hung slack from his shoulder and strange burn-like marks marred his face as they almost seemed to steam. In his hand, he held a box containing a syringe and a sealed bottle of liquid. From behind him, dissolving into a mass of steam, was what appeared to be a giant body of sorts that would have been about 15 meters in height when standing upright.

"Haa… Haa… Haa.." his breathing came out ragged as he struggled to walk, clearly exhausted. He fell to his knees, looking to hold back a stream of tears that were building.

"Eren!" the man shouted up at the sky. "The Reiss family is gone! All except for the father. Are you happy now?! Is this what you wanted?! Is this really what I had to do to save Eldia?!"

The man was looking around for someone, anyone to answer him. The sheer look of desperation on his face was showing more and more by the second as his lips began to tremble as more ragged breaths escaped through his clenched teeth. Tears welled up in the man's eyes. No one was around to answer him.

And yet, he continued to talk to himself.

"Why won't you show me everything?" he spoke with hollow anticipation. "The walls being destroyed… the day it happens… if Carla is safe…"

The scene then changed to the usual mismatch of scenes.

A giant, terrifying smile loomed over all. A smile that could have been so sweet if it had only been on a human face.

A windmill creaked lonely, the isolation seemed unbearable along with the dread.

A patch of blue and white flowers gently swayed with the wind. Delicate and completely unaware of the cruel beauty that they possessed.

Harry had been going over the dream in his head during the early morning.

Eren.

That was the name that man had shouted to the heavens in his dream. He had screamed about Eldia, and being shown everything. It all sounded like something to do with the Paths that Ymir had mentioned to him before. He would have asked her about it as soon as he had woken up, but he had a feeling that if she had an explanation for this, it was going to be a long one. So, he made sure that once he had the right time to do so, he would ask her.

For right now, he was paying apt attention in Charms Class.

"For today's lesson, we will be covering the levitation charm," Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice carried out to the class amongst his stack of books. "In other words, the ability to make things fly! Now, when performing this charm, the wand movement is crucial. Watch carefully."

He cleared his throat and pointed his wand at a feather on his desk. "Swish and flick and, Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather seemed to attach itself to an invisible string as it floated upwards and around, a part of some invisible bird. Professor Flitwick earned a small round of applause from his class. "Why thank you!" Flitwick bowed a little. "Now you all have a feather on your desk. Practice your wand work before trying the spell. I'll be along if you have any questions."

Soon after, every student was waving their wands, cries of wingardium leviosa were then carrying out in the entire classroom. After his fifth attempt, Seamus somehow managed to ignite his feather on fire. Flitwick came by soon after to give him a new one and to clean the soot that had stained his desk and robes.

From further down the row of seats, Harry could hear Ron's loud voice incorrectly calling out the spell. "Wingardium Leviohsa! Wingardium Leviohsa!" He began rapidly swishing his wand in a vain attempt to get the feather to float.

"You're going to take your eye out," the voice of that Hermione girl interrupted his faulty spell work. "That isn't what Professor Flitwick just showed us. Weren't you paying attention? Besides, you're saying it wrong."

"Well, you do it then if you're so clever!" Ron challenged her words to see if she could practice what she preached. "Go on! Go on!"

In just a few short seconds, Hermione's feather was the only one rising in the room.

"Brilliant! Miss Granger's done it!" Flitwick happily squeaked. "Five points to Gryffindor!" Ron grumbled and folded his arms on his desk.

Using his holly and phoenix wand, Harry followed suit in having his feather float up and touch the ceiling of the classroom. He earned an additional five points for their house for his success.

Even when the class ended, Harry noticed that Ron's bad mood had not.

"It's Leviosa!" Ron imitated Hermione's voice as their group of Gryffindor boys exited the class. "She's a nightmare, honestly! It's no wonder why she doesn't have any friends."

A mane of bushy hair hurriedly brushed past them. A faint sound of what seemed to be a choked sob followed in her wake.

'That was rude of him,' he didn't need to see her to know that she was clearly peeved by Ron's abrasive words.

Yeah, was Harry's reply.

'Is that it?' her tone was borderline annoyed.

What do you mean? I'm agreeing with you on that. While Harry couldn't fault Ron for feeling that way about Hermione's know-it-all attitude, he himself even had that perception of her, but he wouldn't actually say anything to her about it. He might not have known what her deal was, but she didn't deserve to be bullied for being herself.

Hey, if it'll make you feel better, if I see her around, I'll try and cheer her up.

'I'd hope so.'

But as the day went on, Harry did not see the Gryffindor girl anywhere else in the castle, even during lunch or some of their other classes which he was sure she would have been at. Before he knew it, the time for the feast had arrived.

The giant pumpkins that Hagrid had bought up before had all been carved into Jack-o-lanterns with a multitude of facial expressions, some of which did not even appear human. They levitated and rotated high above near the weather reflective ceiling of the hall, gazing with benevolence down at the assembled students who worked on stuffing their plates, and faces, with an array of fresh food.

Spotting the two chattiest Gryffindor students, Harry moved his way down the bench to talk to them. Lavender was the first to spot his approach.

"Happy Halloween, Harry!" she cheerfully greeted him. "Oh! I guess congratulations, too. This is the day you won against-,"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, you two," he wasn't. "But, I was wondering if either of you had seen that Hermione girl around?"

Their expressions soured. "She's been in one of the bathrooms all day, crying," Parvati informed. "You didn't say anything to her that upset her, did you?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "We tried getting her to come out, but she just kept saying something about boys being stupid."

"No!" Harry quickly dismissed her accusation. "I didn't say anything to her. I just noticed she was missing and wanted to see if she was alright, that's it."

Their attitudes drastically changed after hearing that. "Aw! That's so caring of you!"

"We should have known. It must just be in your nature to be so bold. That's why you're in Gryffindor."

"If one of us was having a bad day, you'd come to comfort us, wouldn't you?" Lavender asked.

"Huh?"

"Because we're friends with you, aren't we?" Parvati asked. "You'd care if we were upset, wouldn't you?"

"Er... right…" Harry felt himself backing away from the pair. "Anyway, thanks for letting me know." He quickly hurried back to his original seat, ignoring the giggles from the two as he left.

Sitting back down, Harry didn't even have a chance to dig into his dessert as the doors to the Great Hall flung open and a very distraught and disheveled Professor Quirrell came running ina along the aisles.

"Troll! In the dungeon!" he yelled without a single stutter. "Troll in the dungeon!"

All chatter died as every eye was drawn to their DADA teacher.

"Thought you ought to know," Quirrell then calmly said before fainting face-first onto the floor.

There was a frozen pause before a collective scream rose from all four house tables as many students began to make a break for the doors, hardly caring if they trampled over the fallen body of Professor Quirrell.

"Attention!"

The voice of Dumbledore carried itself greatly throughout the hall, stopping everything and everyone dead in their tracks as the headmaster commanded attention be brought to him. He spoke much calmly.

"Prefects, escort the students back to their common rooms. The teachers and I will go investigate the dungeons."

Percy the Prefect was quick to jump into a position of authority, taking command of his element. "Gryffindors, follow me! This way! You heard Professor Dumbledore! This way!"

Harry stopped midway from his seat, letting the frightened crowd meander around him. Wait a minute… a realization came to him.

'What is it? Is something wrong?'

The Slytherin common room is in the dungeons.

The realization sunk in with her. 'Oh…'

Breaking free from the sea of red and gold, Harry searched the crowd of green and silver trimmings, trying to spot a familiar face. He had no idea who the Slytherin prefects were, or if they would even listen to a first-year of their rival house. That's why he was looking for-,

"Draco!" Harry called, spotting the pale blond boy near the edge of his group. "Hey, Draco!"

The Slytherin boys eyes were clearly full of confused fear, but upon seeing Harry approach him, he almost appeared stunned.

"Potter? What're you... " he nervously looked around. "We've never talked before, Potter! You've some nerve to go around addressing me by my first name! My father will be hearing about-!"

"Will you shut up and listen to me?!" Harry almost grabbed the front of the boy's robes. "Whoever your prefect is, go find them and tell them not to go in the dungeons. If the troll is down there, you'd be walking straight toward it."

Malfoy's previous look of offended pride was trickling away to show one of panicked understanding. He gave a soundless nod before quickly moving away from Harry, disappearing into the sea of green.

Harry was about to break away himself when a cry of, "Potter! Wait!" halted him in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder, he saw blond hair coming his way, but it wasn't Malfoy.

"Daphne?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

"Tracey," she said the name. "Have you seen her anywhere?"

"Tracey? No. Why would I have?"

"Because I couldn't find her," Daphne said, more than a hint of worry plagued her tone. "She left a little while ago to use the washroom and I didn't see her come back in."

"Wh- seriously?!" Harry almost sputtered his words. He tried scanning the crowd for Malfoy to tell the prefect, but he had lost sight of the scion. In fact, the only ones who seemed to still be in the hall were the Slytherins, the rest of the houses having largely already moved out and heading back to their own common rooms.

"Gnnh!" Harry clenched his teeth. "Do you know which one she might have gone to?"

"I… maybe. The one of the first floor is pretty close so-,"

"So come on then!" Harry took her hand and led her from the hall.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Daphne chastised him as he dragged her along. "I'm supposed to be-,"

"Back with your housemates? Yeah, so am I. We'll be back quick, the first floor isn't that far. Besides, Snape will forgive you if you were dragged along by some foolish Gryffindor. Now, come on!"

Accepting that as the truth, Daphne kept up with him as they made their way up one of the staircases and down the corridor that seemed far darker and less inviting than usual.

"Around that corner!" Daphne said as they neared a junction. "The bathroom is to the left."

Making the turn, the two of them came and ran straight into a solid object that let out a disgruntled, "Oof!" as it fell backward along with the both of them.

Is that…?

"Tracey?!"

"Daphne!" the other Slytherin groaned as she rubbed at her now red forehead. "What's the big idea?! You're usually so good at navigation. Were you trying to take my head off?!"

"Thank Merlin you're okay," Daphne sighed in relief to Tracey's confused annoyance.

"Mostly okay. No thanks to you and Potter. I was just-, Potter?" she fully took notice of his presence. "Say, is Malfoy planning another one of his get-togethers? He didn't say anything to me about it."

"No, we came to find you and bring you back," Harry told her, catching a whiff of a foul stench the hall.

"Well, if you had both waited about two minutes or so, I would have made it back to enjoy dessert."

The smell seemed to have gotten stronger.

"Forget about dessert!" Daphne grabbed her classmate. "There's a troll somewhere in the school. We've got to get back to the others!"

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"A troll?" Tracey questionly asked. "Did one of those Weasley twins plan this or is this something - Eugh!" she covered her nose. "What's that smell?!"

"Over here!" Harry grabbed both of them and dragged them behind a tapestry next to a suit of armor. His hands moved to cover their mouths to keep them from gagging by the smell.

A horrible odor had wafted their way. Harry could best describe it as a month's worth of Dudley's old gym shorts all rolled into a ball that had been fed to a crocodile and barfed up in a cesspool to cook in the hot July sun. His eyes involuntarily began to water as the source of the stench moved their way down the corridor.

The thing was at least three-and-a-half meters tall covered in thick, greyish-green molted skin and with tree trunk-thick legs coated in blistered bumps. The arms were long and strong, able to easily heft and drag a massive wooden club. The head was quite small for its bulky body, but managed to look intimidating with its large, crooked teeth poking out from its mouth.

The troll had obviously left the dungeon.

Ignoring their hiding place, the troll was making its way over towards the girl's bathroom, ducking its small head down so that it could fit through the doorway. Once its body was no longer in sight, Harry moved toward the door.

"What are you doing?!" Tacey whispered yelled at him. "Let's get out of here!"

"We can lock it in," Harry pointed over to the door. "We lock it in and tell one of the professors about it."

The three of them pulled the bathroom door back and latched it shut behind them for good measure.

'You did it!'

That bout of small victory did not last long at all as they heard the troll roar from behind the door. "Grruggh!"

Kkkrak!

The three of them jumped, thinking the troll was about to break the door down, but that crash had come from somewhere in the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom?

Bathroom… all day... Crying…

"Tracey," Harry began. "Was there anyone else in that bathroom with you?"

The Slytherin girl had a noticeable pause. "I thought I might have heard some… sobbing."

"Aaagghh!" a terrified scream cut through as they heard the troll roar again.

Crrsshhhhhh!

Bolting back to the door, Harry pushed it open to reveal the scene unfolding within.

The troll had swung its club to completely smash all of the toilet stalls, littering the floor with splintered wood. One of the toilets had been smashed, causing a stream of water to begin to flood the floor faster than it could drain. The sole occupant of the bathroom had since taken shelter underneath one of the sinks, but her safety was not guaranteed.

The troll raised its club again and brought it crashing down straight through one of the sinks, flooding the floor with even more water and pieces of shattered porcelain.

Hermione had cowered under another sink before she could be flattened by the massive club, something the troll seemed annoyed with as it roared and growled at the petrified Gryffindor girl.

The troll hadn't even seemed to acknowledge that three other persons had just entered the room and were facing its exposed back. For as big as it was, it didn't seem bright at all, its mind being one-track only.

Harry felt a comforting tingle run along to tickle at his spine as he took in the situation. Looking at the troll from behind, he felt an out-of-body experience taking over him. The image and knowledge of a man in a green cloak with a winged insignia zooming in straight toward the nape of the neck of something just as big as this.

"The levitation charm!" Harry rounded to both Slytherin girls.

"W-what about it?" Tracey asked, not sure what to do when faced with this large an adversary.

"Both of you perform it on me. It should be strong enough to get me up to its neck."

"Have you gone mental?!" Daphne backed up. "We've only done that with feathers and small objects. What do you even plan on doing anyway?!"

"Help!" Hermione screamed as she had to roll from her hiding spot as the troll destroyed the whole row of sinks.

"Tonight you can do it!" Harry tried to motivate them. "Just get me up there and I'll take care of it."

Exchanging a nervous look, the two witches pointed their wands at him and gave a simultaneous swish and flick. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Harry felt a weightless feeling come over his body as it began to float upwards. He leaned his body forward, letting it drift towards the unsuspecting troll. When he saw his legs clear the top of the creature's head, he called out, "Drop me!"

The weightless feeling ended and Harry came falling down, his legs landing on the troll's broad shoulders to wrap around the neck of the thing. Only then did it become aware that it wasn't alone with a helpless student.

"Hrrrnngh?" the troll dumbly looked from side to side, trying to spot its new assailant. When it couldn't spot Harry, it began to wildly buck and shrug its shoulders, trying to get him to come off.

Harry had to grab hold of one of the ears to help him keep his balance. This would have been a whole lot easier if he had something he could use to anchor himself to its skin. Once he felt himself properly in place, he pulled his wand free and aimed it at the nape of the troll's neck. He would have to end this fast before the troll just backed into a wall to squish him flat.

"Diffindo!" Harry shouted the charm. While this spell would have normally been taught next year, Harry did owe thanks to Hermione below for asking Flitwick one class if he could demonstrate some material next year so she could read ahead about it. Now it looked like her teacher's pet attitude was going to come in handy.

Droplets of dark blood spurted out from the thick skin to splatter themselves on Harry's glasses. The troll didn't appear to be hurt by this, just angry that it could not seem to shake the nuisance that was clinging to it from behind.

"Diffindo!" Harry cast the spell again, aiming for the same spot as before. A noticeable gash began to split along the molted hide.

"Arrrguhh!" the troll began rapidly shaking its head in an attempt to shake Harry off. He lost his grip on the ear so he had to channel all of his energy to his legs to keep him held in place.

He tried to grab hold of the ear again, but the troll wasn't going to give him that option again. It looked like it wasn't completely brain-dead.

Taking a risk, Harry pulled his second wand out from its place and aimed them both at the nape of the neck. "Diffindo! Diffindo!"

More drops of blood were spilled, the putrid flesh beginning to split open even more.

By this point, the troll was in obvious pain. The cries of anger and frustration were turning into shouts of anguish and despair. It had dropped its club to try and swat Harry off, but he ducked to avoid getting knocked off.

"Diffindo! Diffindo!"

Blood was soaking the front of Harry's robes, his glasses nearly impossible to see out of. From what he could discern through the stain of red, he appeared to have cut right to the bone if the protruding vertebrae were any indication.

"Guuughhh..." the troll began to shudder as its legs gave out beneath it.

Seeing himself going down with it, Harry disentangled his legs and lept from its back. He intended to land on his feet, but the water flooded floor did not agree with his course of action.

"Gnngh!" Harry hissed in pain as a jolt of pain ran from his ankle to his brain. He fell on his side, letting the mix of water and blood soak his robes even more.

He heard one of the girls say, "Oh Merlin!" as they rushed over to where he was, helping him back to his feet as best they could.

"Are you alright?!"

"What were you even thinking?!"

"Oh, good heavens!"

That voice belonged not to a first-year witch, but a Scottish woman.

Rushing into the bathroom was a collective group of Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell. Two of them had their wands out. They eyed the bloody scene with concerned confusion.

"What is the meaning of… how did you… explain yourselves, the three of you!" McGonagall demanded of them while Quirrell tentatively went to examine the troll.

"Well, you see-," Harry began but another voice beat him to it.

"It was my fault, Professor McGonagall."

"Miss Granger?" McGonagall was shocked that such an upstanding student was trying to take the blame. "Whatever are you talking about, dear?"

"I went looking for the troll," she lied. "I read about them and thought I could take it on. I was wrong. If it wasn't for them... I'd probably be dead."

McGonagall seemed to be in a state of complete disbelief. "That was a grave error in your judgment, Miss Granger. Someone of your intellect should have known the dangers a fully grown mountain troll can-,"

"That's a lie."

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall nearly affrontingly asked as all eyes were drawn on him supported by the two Slytherins.

"I said that she's lying," Harry winced as he felt the pain throbbing in his ankle. "Daphne and I went looking for Tracey when she couldn't find her. We hid from the troll and I locked in here. We didn't know she was in here. When we found out - hsss! Well," he inclined his head over to where the troll had fallen.

He spared a look in Hermione's direction to observe her reaction. He could never have seen the class' teacher's pet actively lying to a teacher for something that wasn't her fault. Seriously, why did she choose to throw herself under a bus that wasn't even moving anyway? What trouble would she have gotten in for just being a victim in all of this?

"You mean to tell me that you took on a fully grown mountain troll and managed to subdue it, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked in a stunned expression.

"I-it is d-d-dead," Quirrell pronounced. "M-multiple l-l-lacerations to the n-nape of the n-neck."

McGonagall rounded on him once again. "You killed a troll, Potter?" If it wasn't so serious, she might have been impressed. "How?"

"With uh, these." Knowing that he couldn't hide them any longer, he showed the two wands that he still had in his hands.

"I see," McGonagall's face could rival a sphynx. "Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, take ten points each for Slytherin for aiding in the rescue of a fellow student. Potter, take twenty for Gryffindor for sheer courage, spellwork, and sheer dumb luck."

"Yes," Snape's voice slithered into the conversation, a noticeable limp in his step. "It would seem Potter's actions have saved the lives of a number of students tonight, my Slytherins included." His usual menacing gaze lightened at the two students. "However, I have to wonder why Potter's actions were necessary to begin with. Furthermore, why does he have more than one wand?"

Harry's brow furrowed in pain and annoyance. He knew it was coming. "Olivander… hnn… let me have it. I paid for it. I only just use one for classes."

Snape looked like he had a response ready for that, but McGonagall stepped back in. "If you have an issue with the matter, I suggest you bring it up with Professor Dumbledore. Now, Misses Greengrass and Davis, go with Professor Snape back to your common room. Miss Granger, go with Professor Quirrell back to Gryffindor Tower. Potter, come with me. We're taking you to the Hospital Wing. I suspect you've exhausted your magical energy to kill that troll not to mention your ankle."

She conjured up a set of crutches from the piles of shattered wood and gave it to Harry to support himself. He followed after her as she led him away from the bloody scene in the bathroom.

'Are you doing okay? You're not hurt too badly, are you?'

No. Not that I can tell. I reckon they'll probably have me stay there overnight. That would be good.

'Eh? Why is that?'

Because I have a lot to talk to you about, that's why.

He could picture her walking along beside him if she were here.

'Then I'll answer as best I can.'

A/N: Thak you for reading. Next chapter: A night of recovery brings a better understanding between the two. Chapter 8: Connection.