This hopping back and forth between stories is a lot.

And I do mean a lot.

Reviews make me happy lol

Chapter 11: Halloween

The next morning, the Great Hall buzzed with its usual hum of chatter and clinking silverware, but I sat silently, my plate untouched as I watched Harry and Ron. They were laughing together, seemingly unaffected by the events of the previous night. Malfoy's face, however, was a different story. His sour expression made it clear he had hoped we'd been expelled. I took a small, bitter satisfaction in knowing we had thwarted his plan, but that didn't diminish the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

I felt angry, confused, and humiliated. I wanted to tell Harry and Ron exactly how reckless they'd been, but what would it matter? They wouldn't listen. They'd probably just laugh it off, like everything else. Instead, I ignored them entirely, focusing on the breakfast spread in front of me. Warm pancakes, bacon, and eggs, but I couldn't stomach more than a bite.

As I pushed the food around my plate, the morning post arrived. The fluttering wings of owls filled the hall, dropping parcels and letters into eager hands. One particularly large package landed in front of Harry. I couldn't help but glance over, curiosity prickling despite my determination to ignore them.

Harry was about to unwrap it when another letter dropped. He and Ron read it over, then quickly picked up the parcel, running off with it. I followed after them, my curiosity getting the better of me.

It seemed Harry was sent a broomstick. Really? A broomstick? And from what I could hear, a top of the line one as well. As I thought would happen, he was rewarded for his bad behavior.

Malfoy, of course, had popped up to try and ruin the moment. He snatched the broom from Harry's hands, his smug expression all too familiar.

"That's a broomstick," he sneered, turning it over in his hands.

"Aren't we clever this morning," Ron shot back sarcastically, his eyes narrowing.

Malfoy sneered, throwing the broomstick back to Harry. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed them."

Ron didn't hesitate. "It's not any old broomstick, you prat. It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty? Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

I could see the glee on Harry and Ron's faces as Malfoy faltered.

"What would you know about it, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "You couldn't afford half the handle. I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Ron's ears turned red, and I thought he might lunge at Malfoy right then, but before he could, Professor Flitwick appeared.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he asked, his voice cheerful but laced with a hint of warning.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said quickly, his smirk returning.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick said, his eyes twinkling. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand," Harry replied, trying to suppress a grin. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it."

As Malfoy's face turned an even deeper shade of red, Harry and Ron headed upstairs, their laughter echoing in the corridor.

I trailed behind them, unable to stop myself from eavesdropping.

"Well, it's true," Harry said, still chuckling. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team."

I couldn't keep quiet any longer. My anger bubbled to the surface, and I spoke before I could stop myself.

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" I said sharply, glaring at Harry.

Harry turned, clearly surprised to see me. "I thought you weren't speaking to us?"

"Yes, don't stop now," Ron added with a smirk. "It's doing us so much good, and I was enjoying the silence."

Their words stung more than I wanted to admit. I felt my cheeks flush as I turned on my heel and stormed off, my nose held high.

On Halloween morning, the delicious aroma of baked pumpkin wafted through the corridors. It reminded me of home, of Mama's pies at the Harvest Festival, and for a moment, the warmth of the memory dulled my frustration.

In Charms, Professor Flitwick announced that we were ready to make objects fly. A lesson I'd been eagerly anticipating. He paired us up for practice, and to my dismay, I was assigned to Ron.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing," Flitwick chirped. "Swish and flick, remember! Swish and flick!"

Ron groaned as we began, his movements erratic and clumsy.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his wand like a madman.

"You're saying it wrong," I snapped, unable to hold back. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You do it, then, if you're so clever."

I took a deep breath, steadying my wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather lifted smoothly into the air, hovering delicately above the desk.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, clapping his hands.

I smiled faintly, not exactly paying attention to Professor Flitwick's praise. Instead I moved my wand, letting the feather dance in the air before guiding it gently back to the desk. For a moment, I was lost in the magic, enchanted by the simplicity and beauty of the spell. But when I turned to Ron, his expression wasn't one of admiration. He looked irritated, even disgusted.

My triumph faded. Had I embarrassed him? Made him feel small? That wasn't my intention, but I couldn't shake the guilt gnawing at me.

After class, I hurried to catch up with Ron, hoping to explain. But as I approached, I overheard his voice.

"It's Levi-OOOOO-sa, not Levi-o-SAAAA," he mocked, his voice loud and exaggerated. "No wonder no one can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly."

The words hit me like a physical blow. My chest tightened, and tears pricked at my eyes. A nightmare? Was that truly how they saw me?

I hurried past them, brushing against Harry as I went. "I think she heard you," he said.

"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends," Ron replied.

I made my way to the girls' bathroom, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me like a storm cloud. My footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, each step heavier than the last. When I reached the sink, I turned the tap, letting the cool water flow over my trembling hands. Splashing my face, I tried to wash away the evidence of my tears, but the puffiness around my eyes and the redness of my cheeks remained.

I looked at my reflection and barely recognized myself. A stuffy, librarian-looking girl with frizzy hair and watery eyes stared back. Not even a girl anymore—a nightmare, apparently. Ron's words played over and over in my mind, each repetition sharper than the last. A nightmare. Is that how everyone saw me? Was I truly so insufferable?

A sudden noise startled me—a creak of the door. I turned quickly, clutching the edge of the sink as Parvati stepped inside. Her expression shifted from mild surprise to concern when she saw me.

"Hermione, are you okay?" she asked gently. There was genuine care in her voice, but after what I'd overheard, I couldn't trust my instincts.

"It's nothing," I said hastily, wiping my eyes. "Just… just a bit of dust, that's all."

"Dust," she repeated, raising an eyebrow. She clearly didn't believe me, but I couldn't bring myself to elaborate.

"I'll be fine, please," I insisted. "Sorry, I just… I just wanted to be left alone."

Parvati tilted her head as if she wanted to say more, but after a moment, she simply nodded. She washed her hands in silence, then paused by the door.

"Ummm... If you want to talk after the feast, I'll listen," she offered softly before leaving.

I didn't respond. I couldn't. The lump in my throat was too thick, and the tears were threatening to spill again.

I slumped to the floor in the corner, drawing my knees to my chest. The cold tiles pressed against my back, but I didn't care. I felt utterly alone, like I was stuck in a bad dream with no way to wake up.

This was supposed to be a fresh start. A place where I could finally belong. Instead, it was turning into a cruel reflection of home. Back there, at least, I had my books and my bedroom to retreat to when the world was too harsh. Here, even the library didn't feel like a safe haven anymore.

I buried my face in my arms, letting the sobs come. The feast could go on without me. I didn't care about pumpkin pasties or enchanted decorations. I just wanted to disappear.

The sudden slam of the bathroom door jolted me from my thoughts. I froze, my breath catching as a foul stench filled the air. It was an overpowering mix of rot and damp, and it turned my stomach.

Then I heard it. A low, guttural groan that echoed off the tiled walls. Slowly, I turned my head toward the sound.

A troll.

It was massive, towering at least twelve feet high, with greenish, mottled skin that looked like sludge. Its face was covered in bulbous warts, and its beady eyes were void of any thought, save for destruction. The club it dragged behind it was enormous, like a tree trunk stripped of its branches.

I scrambled back, my hands slipping on the tiles as I tried to put distance between myself and the creature. My scream seemed to echo forever.

The troll's vacant eyes locked onto me. It swung its club, smashing the sinks to my left. Shards of porcelain flew through the air, and I ducked, my heart racing.

This was it. This was how I was going to die; cornered in a bathroom by a troll. My entire body trembled as I shut my eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

"Confuse it!"

The shout made my eyes snap open. Harry was standing in the doorway, throwing broken pieces of sink at the troll. I gasped, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was seeing.

Ron was there too, darting around the room with wide, frantic eyes. They… they had come for me.

The troll hesitated, turning its attention to Harry. It lumbered toward him, its club raised high.

"Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yelled, hurling a metal pipe at the troll. It bounced harmlessly off its shoulder, but the noise was enough to make the creature change direction.

"Run!" Harry shouted at me, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me up. But my legs felt like they were made of lead. I couldn't move.

The troll roared, swinging its club wildly as it barreled toward Ron. Harry did the unthinkable. He leapt onto the troll's back, jamming his wand up its nose.

The troll howled in pain, shaking its head and thrashing its club. Harry clung on tightly, his face pale but determined.

Ron fumbled with his wand, his hands trembling as he pointed it at the troll. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted.

The club shot out of the troll's hand, soared into the air, and came crashing down onto its head. The troll swayed for a moment before collapsing to the ground with a resounding thud.

I stood there, shaking, as silence filled the bathroom. The troll lay motionless, its chest rising and falling faintly.

"Is it… dead?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Harry pulled his wand from the troll's nose, grimacing at the green slime covering it. "I don't think so. Just knocked out. Ugh, troll boogers." He wiped the wand on the troll's trousers, his hands still trembling.

I stared at them, Harry and Ron, unable to speak. They had come for me. They had risked their lives for me.

Before I could say anything, the door burst open, and Professor McGonagall stormed in, followed closely by Snape and Quirrell. Her eyes were alight with fury, and for a moment, I thought we were all about to be expelled.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" she demanded, her voice like ice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

I couldn't let them take the blame. Not after what they'd done. "Please, Professor McGonagall," I said, stepping forward. "They were looking for me."

McGonagall's sharp gaze landed on me, her expression a mix of anger and disbelief. "Miss Granger?"

"I… I went looking for the troll," I lied, my voice shaking. "I thought I could handle it on my own. I've read all about them…"

Ron dropped his wand in shock. Harry's jaw fell open, but neither of them contradicted me.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." I explained, inwardly cringing, that I was lying to this woman.

McGonagall's expression softened slightly, though her sternness remained.

"Well, in that case, Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" asked McGonagall, a bit softer, but still angrily."Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this." said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Back in the common room, I sat alone, lost in thought. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the space, but I felt oddly detached.

When Harry and Ron entered, I rushed over to them, not realizing I was there until I ended up in front of them. Our eyes met, and for a moment, none of us said a word. Then, as if on cue, we all started to laugh, a hesitant, awkward laugh that gradually grew warmer.

It wasn't just laughter. It was a truce, an unspoken agreement that something had changed between us.

From that day on, we became a trio. It wasn't what I'd imagined when I first came to Hogwarts (friendship forged in the chaos of a troll attack), but it was real, and it was ours.