Chapter Fourteen: Frost and Stone
The bitter wind that swept through the Hogwarts grounds on the morning of Wednesday the 30th of October was sharp enough to cut through cloaks and scarves alike. Harry kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with the Ravenclaws toward the greenhouses, breath misting in front of him.
No one lingered outside longer than necessary. Even the castle seemed to huddle against the cold, its windows fogged, its torches burning a little brighter than usual.
Herbology with the Hufflepuffs brought them to Greenhouse One, thankfully heated, though the warmth was damp and smelled faintly of compost.
The lesson that day was purely theoretical; Professor Sprout clearly didn't want anyone handling live plants in this weather, and the class gathered around her while she lectured about Devil's Snare.
"It thrives in darkness," she explained, "and is particularly sensitive to movement. The more you struggle, the faster it strangles. What does it dislike?"
"Light and heat," Harry answered without hesitation, earning a pleased smile and five points for Ravenclaw.
He leaned back slightly, a wry thought passing through his mind.
Would've been useful to remember that the first time around.
They were given worksheets and notes to copy, and Harry found himself sharing a table with Susan Bones. She greeted him with a quiet "Hi," and the two worked in companionable silence for several minutes.
Eventually, she glanced sideways at him. "You're not what I expected."
Harry looked up. "Oh?"
She shrugged. "Most people talk about you like you're supposed to be… bigger, I guess. Louder."
"I get that a lot."
Susan hesitated, then added, "People always ask me about my aunt Amelia." Her voice had a faint edge. "Like I don't have anything to talk about besides who I'm related to."
Harry nodded slowly. "That's familiar." Who's her aunt? Amelia Bones… it does ring a bell.
Susan smiled, small but genuine. "It's annoying."
"It is," Harry agreed. "But it helps to remember that what we do next is what actually defines us."
She gave him a longer look, then returned to her notes. "I like that."
The rest of the lesson passed in quiet scribbles and occasional shared answers. When class ended, Harry walked back toward the castle with frost clinging to the cuffs of his robes and the seed of an unexpected friendship planted in the cold soil.
~OvO~
Halloween arrived with a pale sunrise and a tension Harry couldn't shake.
He was up early, seated cross-legged on his bed, the Marauder's map spread across his lap. The ink lines shifted and shimmered, Filch's name moving slowly through the castle's corridors.
Then, a little before 6am, a different one appeared: Quirinus Quirrell, drifting across a wall that shouldn't have allowed passage.
Secret passageway, Harry noted.
The professor was leaving the castle.
To bring the troll in.
Harry's fingers tightened on the edges of the parchment.
He wasn't sure yet what he'd do. He didn't want to intervene too early; couldn't risk a butterfly effect on events he wasn't ready to change. But letting the troll roam freely? That was equally unthinkable.
The decision would come, and it would come fast.
~OvO~
He was distracted all day.
In Transfiguration, McGonagall called on him twice before he even noticed. Hermione glanced at him, puzzled, but said nothing.
"Sorry, Professor," Harry muttered, forcing his attention back to his wandwork.
The corridors were adorned with floating pumpkins and skeleton decorations, but Harry couldn't shake the sense of unease. Every sound, every laugh in the hallway, felt like a distraction from the growing tension in his chest.
By dinner, he was seated beside Hermione, Michael, and Terry at the Ravenclaw table, pushing roasted pumpkin around his plate.
Hermione nudged him. "You alright?"
"Just tired," he said.
She didn't believe him, but she let it go.
Quirrell entered the Great Hall not long after, staggering dramatically.
"T- troll!" he shouted. "In the d- d- dungeons!"
Then he fainted.
Screams erupted. Dumbledore stood, shouting instructions. Students were being herded to their dormitories, prefects barking orders.
Harry slipped away in the chaos, vanishing between groups of panicked students and disappearing into a side corridor.
He moved fast.
Through the dungeons, wand in hand, tracing the path in his head from memory. The girls' bathroom; Hermione wasn't in there this time, thank Merlin, but the troll still would be. The trap would play out the same.
He reached the bathroom door and eased it open.
The troll stood inside, its back to him, dragging a club behind it. It was massive, hulking, and exactly as foul-smelling as he remembered.
Magic won't work on it, Harry thought. Not easily. Think outside the box.
He stayed hidden behind the door, and pointed his wand downwards.
"Aguamenti," he whispered.
A strong jet of water burst forth, flooding the floor rapidly. When the water reached the troll's feet, Harry climbed onto a nearby sink.
"Glacius!"
The water shimmered, then solidified, forming thick, slippery ice. The troll roared, flailing its arms as it tried to move and promptly slipped, falling heavily onto its side, club smashing through a stall door.
It struggled, bellowing, ice cracking under its weight, using its club to lift itself back to its feet.
Harry didn't hesitate.
He pointed his wand at one of the remaining stall doors.
"Duro!"
The wooden door shimmered and then dulled, transfigured into solid stone. Harry levitated the now very heavy door in between himself and the troll, gritted his teeth, and shouted:
"Depulso!"
The slab of stone slammed into the back of the troll's skull with a sickening thud. The creature dropped instantly, like its strings had been cut - limbs sprawled awkwardly, unconscious but breathing.
Harry's heart thundered in his chest.
He raised his wand again. "Evanesco."
The stone door vanished. Then the ice. Then the excess water.
The troll remained, motionless.
Voices echoed from the corridor.
Too close.
He cast the disillusionment charm on himself; rushed, flickering, but good enough.
And ran.
He slipped into Ravenclaw Tower less than a minute after the prefects had begun ushering everyone back in.
He darted into his room, cancelled the charm, and took a long, slow breath.
His hands were shaking.
~OvO~
Later, Harry returned to the common room, face composed, heart settled.
He re-joined Hermione, Michael, and Terry just as pumpkin pie was being served. Hermione looked relieved to see him. Michael handed him a goblet of spiced apple juice without comment.
Harry smiled faintly and took it.
No one questioned where he'd been.
No one noticed the faint tremble in his fingers.
The feast continued, and the shadows beneath the candles danced like nothing had happened at all.
Author's Note
Aether Dragon13 - you're right, he's meant to be practicing wandless apparition but I didn't make that clear. I'll update now. Thank you for leaving a review!
Srathor - thank you so much! The posting schedule will unfortunately slow down to a chapter every few days soon, I wanted to make sure the story had a good foundation so I wrote up to chapter 18 all at once, but I am now writing as I go.