Chaos Theory
A Harry Potter fan-fiction by DiscountNinja
A/N - A new update! The previous two chapters were reposts, that I've only just got round to doing after Portkey was having site issues many months ago. We're kicking right off now -jumping forward a whole ten years. We'll start to get an idea of some of the changes made, and a couple of twists to keep you interested until major divergence happens.
September 1st 1991 - 10:55 am
The platform 9 and three quarters at Kings Cross station was heaving. Parents, students, pets and baggage swarmed in an effort to board the train in the final 5 minutes before the whistle would blow, signalling the departure for Scotland and Hogwarts.
Steam billowed from the red engine, the fire in its belly slowly growing hotter and hotter, hungry for coal and pistons aching, as though a runner crouched before a sprint. Bright red paint gleamed, the Hogwarts crest adorned every door and carriage, proudly displaying is affiliation to that ancient institution. The brass work shone under the summer sun, more than a fine day to start the year. The excitement was almost palpable, students bursting with enthusiasm and eager to see their school friends and to practice magic again. Particularly to practice the magic.
Stood in a small circle of calm was Remus Lupin, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching for some figure amongst the throng of people. In contrast to usual, he looked almost healthy with the barest of colour to his skin, for the full moon was at least another three weeks away, though still dressed in his normal attire of brown suit and shirt.
"He's not coming, is he Remus?" asked a small voice to his left.
"We don't know that, Albus said he'd try his best to be here," he replied, looking down at the boy. He was reasonably tall for his age, a healthy weight, had black hair, brilliant green eyes behind reasonably classy wire-frame glasses and a lightning bolt scar partially hidden beneath his bangs. He was dressed casually in blue muggle jeans and a plain black t-shirt, some of his wizarding friends thought the choice a bit odd but he was slowly convincing them of the merits of jeans. Given the mischief they got up to together, robes were very restrictive and not exactly conductive to climbing or quick getaways.
"I know that," Harry Potter shifted uncomfortably, "it's just ..." he shrugged. Harry Potter had so desperately wanted Albus to be here. His first day at Hogwarts, the train and everything. Hogwarts, the place where his foster father had spent his youth and so many of his later years, a place that he'd been hearing about ever since he was a small child. And Albus was going to miss it. He liked Remus very much, but he wanted Albus to be here so badly.
"I know," said Remus sadly, "there's still a few minutes, he might make it yet."
"No," he replied dully, "this is going to be like the Junior Quidditch League all over again." Remus winced, and though he knew full well that Albus had done his best to be there for Harry's first real game and really couldn't have skipped his meeting with the ICW delegation from Italy, he knew just how much it had hurt Harry that he'd not been there to see him play that day. Remus had been there, swelled with pride when Harry caught the Golden Snitch, but he knew it wasn't the same. Harry was more than gifted on a broom, his natural skill and association with the Weasleys (where he had gained some tutelage under Charlie Weasley, who could have played for England if he'd wanted to) had made the rest of the players in the local children's Quidditch games look almost laughable in comparison.
Remus could remember keenly the look of disappointment on Harry's face when he learnt that Albus wasn't in the crowd that first day, but what broke his heart further was it would flash across his face every time Albus missed a match. Which, if Remus was honest, was more often than not.
It wasn't that Albus was inattentive, by all means he loved his adopted son very much, but he was always incredibly busy. If it wasn't the Wizengamot then it was the ICW, and if it wasn't the ICW then it was the Ministry and if it wasn't then Ministry then it was the Hogwarts Governor Board and so on. Dumbledore did his best to fulfil these obligations and find time to spend with Harry, but sometimes that was an impossible goal.
Harry and Albus had an unusual relationship as far as parents and children go. Albus had been called Albus and Remus was called Remus, neither wanted to even slightly replace James, not even accidentally or unconsciously. The guilt they both carried would never have allowed them to do so. Harry knew who his father was and though he loved Albus and to some extent Remus as if they were he'd not called either of them 'dad' since he was very, very young. Harry spent a lot of his time with Remus, doing the things that a normal child does and the rest he spent learning with Albus. It was rare these days that there was time to do the fun things that they had done so often long ago. Harry missed deeply the Albus of yesteryear, not that he didn't enjoy his lessons with Albus which were always profoundly fascinating, but sometimes he ached for the days when there was always time for chess or kite flying or whatever latest thing had caught Harry's interest.
Harry, in fact, loved learning. It certainly had something to do with the fact that Albus taught him (and taught him such wonderful things, magic that those his age would not even look at for several years), but he did have an ingrained thirst for knowledge. Again, having Albus raise him it was no wonder that child-like desire to understand had transferred across the generations. Magic was an incredible thing to study and Harry relished every moment. He hated tests and homework of course, but the actual learning, physical discovery and the 'eureka' moments that came with them really enthused him, which was a large part of why he was so looking forward to going to Hogwarts.
This returned his attention to the station, and the journey he would soon be making, where he stood in a storm of nervous, excited students and confused, gloomy parents. Harry frowned and edged closer to Remus, he really hated crowds.
He'd never really gotten over the public mobbings that occurred when he was younger - a poor frightened child, trying his best to keep up with Albus through the busy streets of Diagon Alley. A sea of swimming faces all trying to force their way forward almost smothering him with their strange admiration and affection. Dumbledore had worried needlessly that Harry Potter would become enamoured with fame because he instead despised it, feared it and was even humbled by it. He hadn't even been old enough to understand what he had done, but he knew well that those crowds and flashing faces frightened him.
Again, contrary to Dumbledore's thoughts public interest in Harry had waned somewhat as he grew up - there had certainly been a surge of interest around about the time Harry was old enough to attend school, a muggle one Albus had insisted, but eventually people had been distracted by whatever the latest scandal was or what this Quidditch player had or had not done. That was not to say that there weren't expectations of Harry, far from it. Britain was watching and it expected great things from the Boy-Who-Lived, now the protégé of Albus Dumbledore. Remus was privately sure that they wouldn't be disappointed.
Trunk already stashed in a compartment on the train, Harry watched the seconds tick by on Remus' watch until there was barely less than a minute before the train was due to depart.
Remus knelt down, "I hope you have a fantastic year Harry, I look forward to getting some letters from you! Remember, I'm proud of you. Most importantly of all," he looked straight into green eyes, "I want you to have some fun, alright?"
Harry smiled, "Don't worry, I'll remember to enjoy myself."
"I mean it Harry - I know what you get like sometimes." Harry would almost always throw himself deep into whatever his latest hobby was, Remus was amazed at what he could accomplish when the boy really gave himself over fully to some discipline. He supposed that when you've been tutored your whole life by Albus Dumbledore that sort of thing would wind up coming to you naturally.
Wrapping the poor boy tightly in his arms, Remus wished dearly that Albus had managed to make it here. He remembered his first trip on the Hogwarts express. He remembered even clearer the pride on his own fathers face, a thought that had fuelled more than one Patronus Charm, and could only imagine the intense disappointment Harry was feeling.
The whistle blew.
"Alright Remus, I'll see you at Christmas! Tell Albus the same, will you?" he flashed a small, sad smile as he extricated himself from the hug and turned away before jumping aboard the train. A second, louder whistle went off and, though he didn't think it was possible, the station was flooded with more steam than before as the train gently lurched forward. Disheartened, Harry cast one final forlorn glance out of the window at the platform, and squinted through the dense mist trying to make out the vague shape of Remus Lupin.
The fog began to clear and his heart leapt into his throat. Standing beside Remus, resplendent in purple cloak and slightly out of breath, was Dumbledore. An uncontrollable grin spread across his face as Harry began to wave madly out of the carriage, absolutely ecstatic that he hadn't missed it and that this wouldn't be like Quidditch after all. Not this time, at least.
Even above the shouted goodbyes of all the other parents Harry could hear "Have a great time Harry! I'll be seeing you sooner than you think!" and though he was now too far away to see it, there was no doubt that it was accompanied by the trademark twinkle behind those half-moon glasses. Sure, Albus hadn't been on the platform with him but at least he'd been there to see the train go. Harry had already learnt that sometimes you just have to take what you can get and be happy with it.
Infinitely more cheerful than when he had boarded the train, Harry began to move down the corridor squeezing his way past bragging seventh years, avoiding timid second years and dodging positively bewildered first years as he made his way towards the compartment he'd seen his friend Ron Weasley secure soon after he and his brothers had arrived.
Humming happily, Harry moved past the seemingly endless streams of people, ignoring the calls of Prefects shouting at students who simply couldn't wait to cast spells and absolutely had to make mischief on the train. People peered at him curiously as he passed, and he felt a twinge of discomfort at that but he supposed that it really could have been worse, people would look at him clearly intrigued now and then, though mostly at the scar, but it was rare for anyone to actually stop and stare these days. It had been very awkward for him in the past, particularly to hear that some of Ron's bedtime stories had been about him and that was not to mention one or two of the Ginny fiascos. This had all served to make him incredibly cautious when meeting new people, as a result of the misplaced interest of strangers.
Lost deeply in his thoughts as he was Harry completely failed to notice a young girl coming the other way down the corridor. She was doing her best to avoid those milling about talking to friends, those searching for a compartment and the odd one or two (mostly George and Fred Weasley) running rampant with excitement about the new school year. She was somewhat hampered in her task by the large tower of books she was carrying, a pile nearly tall enough that she had to crane over them to see where she was going.
The collision was inevitable. Even his quick reflexes weren't enough to save him from the slightly embarrassing fall that sent books and people tumbling to the floor. A cheer went up from the occupants of the carriage, followed by a brief laugh, but chatter soon returned to normal and they were left to pick up the pieces of their accident.
Harry felt mortified. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there, here let me help ..." he looked up at her, and was confronted by a girl of about his age with large bushy, brown hair. She'd already changed into her school robes, and was bright red from embarrassment too which made Harry feel a bit better about the whole thing. He smiled at her ruefully, and she returned it. Given that her school robes didn't have a house crest on them yet he assumed that she was starting this year, just like him.
"No, that's okay, I've got it." She said, her petite hands darting out to grab the books before they were trod on or worse by those moving through the carriage. She actually managed to get most of them together, but Harry had ignored her and collected a few of them regardless. As he stood up, he skimmed the titles which mostly consisted of the first year text books and "An Introductory Guide to Magic", a book Harry knew was written mostly with muggle-born children and their parents in mind.
She smiled shyly as she took the books off of him, "Thanks, sorry about that."
"No problem, my fault. I'm Harry, nice to meet you. I guess you're a first year as well?" he asked her.
"I'm Hermione Granger, nice to meet you too, and yes this is my first year," she said a little timidly. Given that, if she was a muggle-born this must be a pretty stressful experience for her, Harry could understand her reticence, considering his own aversion to people and crowds.
"Looks like you're a bit of a reading fan then? Thinking you might end up in Ravenclaw?"
At the mention of her books, her eyes lit up. "Oh yes, it's all very fascinating. I can't say that I'm all that impressed with Herbology, but I suppose you can't really get the measure of such a practical subject from a textbook, can you? Transfiguration seems captivating though, I really can't wait to get started on that one! It's not just the idea of turning something into something else, it's that the course seems to have a solid grounding in magical theory too. I mean," she said without taking a break, and looking for all the world like she could continue for a very long time, "I think it's incredible that these things are even possible, I'd just love to know how it works. Have you read your Transfiguration text book yet? The section on Mandelbrot's Laws was simply fascinating."
She finally stopped, thinking that Harry probably didn't really want to talk about magical theory like most other normal children, so she finished "And I don't know about Ravenclaw. It seems like a perfectly fine house to me, but I'm rather hoping for Gryffindor actually."
Given her impressive rant Harry was prepared to believe that she would do well in Ravenclaw, but the fire in her eyes as she talked about something she was passionate about lead him believe she'd make a sterling Gryffindor too. Everyone always talks about bravery and courage, which she could have in spades for all he knew, but they often forget that Gryffindors are usaually people with strong very beliefs and goals, driven not in the Slytherin way but simply for the love of a thing, or a strong moral opinion. Noble was the forgotten attribute of Gryffindor house.
Grinning he replied, "I've done some reading yeah, but if you really want to blow your mind then you'll want to check out Rosen's Conversion Theory in the third year book. I won't pretend to understand it properly yet or anything, but it's got some pretty interesting applications. Still, the fact that you know of Mandelbrot's Laws at all is impressive, most everyone starts off not knowing anything, muggle-born and pure-blood alike."
Her smile wavered for a second, "How could you tell I was from a non-magical family so quickly? Was it something I said? Don't get me wrong," she continued quickly and firmly, eager to send the right impression "I'm not ashamed of it, and I'm not going to lie if anyone asks me, but ..." She shrugged, "I was hoping that I'd be able to get to know people at least a little bit before it came up. Are your parents non-magical too?" she waved a hand towards his attire, as though to indicate it was a bit of a giveaway.
Harry laughed, "Nah, it was the Introduction to Magic book you're carrying. I couldn't even begin to guess otherwise. Anyways, it really doesn't matter to most people. The vast majority are half-blood after all, even most pure-bloods are lying about it. I'm half and half myself, magical family but I went to a regular primary school."
Nodding, she began to move past him, "Right, well, it was nice to meet you Harry but I'd better get back to my carriage. I suppose I might see you in class."
"Sure, take care." He continued down the carriage, looking into each compartment as he went, intent on finding Ron. He'd loaded his trunk with his red-headed friend as soon as they had arrived in order to make sure they could get good seats and he was keen to change into his uniform as soon as he could. Not to mention swap stories and make plans with his best friend.
Soon enough he found his way to the right place and was greeted by Ron, hair aflame and grinning madly.
"Harry! Great to see you mate! Come on in, I've stashed your trunk over there," he pointed to the battered looking trunk haphazardly stacked in the luggage rack, "this year is going to be so awesome. By Merlin, we're going to have some crazy good times."
Harry closed the door behind him and sat down, already feeling a lot more relaxed than he had been. Ron always did seem to have that effect, his easy going nature and sense of humour had been one of Harry's constant companions since a young age. The warm summers he had spent begging Albus to let him go to the Burrow so that he and Ron could embark on a childhood adventure were some of the best memories he had. They had roamed the countryside for miles around that wonky house, swam in clear country streams and had even built themselves a secret tree house in the apple orchard last year. They'd even got Bill, who had been sworn to secrecy, to put some charms on it to make sure that nobody but them could find it.
"Good to see you too Ron, but I've only been gone about ten minutes."
"Yeah, but the train's been going for that long and I've been sat on my own in here like Johnny-no-mates. Can't keep a guy hanging like that man," the two smiled and began to dig out their school robes. "So, what house?"
Genuine laughter escaped Harry, "We've been over this a thousand times Ron, we're both gonna' wind up in Gryffindor. How else could it go, yeah?" He pulled his robes on over his muggle clothes, and for a moment he felt odd. This was a moment of no going back. He and Ron were going to Hogwarts, away from their family for the first real time. Sure, they'd gone camping out in the garden - even a little bit in the moors outside Warlocks Spire, but this was very different. But it passed, and soon enough he was grinning again at Ron.
"I'm not sure about that. I think we both know you'd do alright in Ravenclaw, and who knows, maybe I'll end up a Hufflepuff?"
"Gryffindor, the both of us." Harry said firmly, "Remember the time you and I took on that gnome army with our bare hands! That's courage right there."
Snorting, Ron shot back, "I don't think that counts. They were garden gnomes, there was hardly an army of them, and we're about three feet taller than them!"
At this point they were interrupted, "Anything off the trolley dears?" asked a kindly looking woman pushing a trolley filled with sweets, treats and other assorted goodies. Privately, Harry wondered how wise it was to offer sweets to a train filled with excitable teens, but sugar was sugar.
"Yes please, I'll have a few of those Cauldron Cakes and a chocolate frog. What about you?" he asked Ron.
"I've got sandwiches," the both of them pulled a face, knowing full well what horrors lay in wait inside the Weasley packed lunch, the dreaded corned beef sandwich. It only took a moment thinking about that for Ron to relent, "Alright, but this means I owe you a fantastic Christmas present."
Ron preceded to reel off a list of sweets as long as Harry's arm.
Harry counted out the money, which he just about had enough of. He supposed it wasn't like there was much opportunity to use it at Hogwarts until third year and the Hogsmeade visits started anyway. Still, it was nearly all of his allowance. He didn't mind too much, really. It was a common misconception that some people made though, that being the Boy-Who-Lived would make him rich.
He and Albus did alright for sure, but they weren't affluent by any stretch of the imagination. Money was a bit of a sore spot for Ron, and while Harry was probably a bit better off than the Weasley boy it hadn't really been cause for a fall out in a long time. Given that the two of them usually pooled their cash to buy sweets and pranks from Fred and George anyway the issue hadn't actually come up in a long time. Sometimes Ron looked at Harry's Nimbus 2000 with envy, but it wasn't anything that burnt Ron up inside.
The two of them devoured their purchases, relaxed in the gentle sunlight that streamed in through the windows and generally told jokes and made wild plans for the year ahead easily spending the next hour chatting about nothing else before the conversation turned to magic.
"Right, so you're saying now that we're on the train we can do all the magic we want?" Ron asked, almost suspicious that Harry was playing a trick on him.
"Honest to Merlin mate, Albus told me and everything. Here, I'll even do it first," reaching through his robes he pulled out his holly wand and brandished it like a sword, feeling that familiar rush of energy course down his arm. It had been a few years since he'd first felt that in Ollivander's shop, thanks to Albus' insistence that he should be able to practice magic early though only under his close supervision, but he would never forget the way it felt to wield magic. However, before he could begin a spell they were interrupted once more.
The door slid back to reveal one familiar face, that of Neville Longbottom, and a stranger. After a second Harry remembered her face, and shortly after that the name Hermione came to him as well. "Hey there Nev!" beamed Ron, "Where've you been hiding? Want to come in?"
"Oh, hey guys, I'd have dropped in sooner but, erm ... I've lost Trevor again," Neville said, looking crestfallen, "This is Hermione, she's been nice enough to help me try and find him." Neville was a nervous, stout boy, but both Harry and Ron knew him well enough to know that he had a strong heart inside him, somewhere. The three of them had often played together as children, though Mrs Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, was never entirely approving of their influence and had lately been denying them the chance to meet up.
Hermione had spotted the wand however, and true to her nature, her curiosity was piqued. "Are you going to do some magic? I've tried a few simple spells already, and they seemed to work pretty well. What were you going to do?"
"Well, I was going to turn Ron the same shade of orange as his hair," he continued, ignoring the indignant squawk from Ron, "but since Nev has lost Trevor maybe there's something I can do to help him out. It's, ah ..., a bit advanced really, but I've been able to do it before. Fortune favours the bold, right?"
He stood up and motioned Neville and Hermione out of the doorway, furrowed his brow and drew upon his magic, which welled up inside of him in response, eager to respond to his call.
"Accio Trevor!" he called, moving the tip of the wand in what he hoped was the correct set of motions, and waited.
"Mate," said Ron teasingly, "I don't think that worked. Is that even a real spell?"
No sooner than he had spoken they heard a shriek in the corridor as Trevor the toad flew through past a bunch of second year girls and in through the open doorway. Harry had to take a step forward to catch the frog in both hands as the magic gave out just a little bit too soon.
"Here you go Nev, not quite strong enough as spells go, but it's a pretty good start right?" Neville, who didn't have an awful lot of confidence with magic was more than a little bit awed, and Hermione, who already thought she knew some pretty good spellwork when she saw it, were suitably impressed. Ron already had some idea that Harry was pretty good, but he clapped along with the others at the feat his best friend had just pulled off.
"Cheers Harry! Hang on, I'll just go and get the rest of my stuff then I'll join you guys in here. Thanks for all your help Hermione," said Neville, waving and smiling shying at her as he left.
"Anytime Neville. Do you think you could show me how to do that sometime, Harry? That wasn't covered anywhere in our textbooks this year at all! I even skimmed some of the second year books I got in advance and I didn't see anything at all like that in there, just how far ahead is that spell?" she asked eagerly.
"I don't see why not, it just depends on how much time and effort you want to put into it," he responded, he could see that Ron had already switched off though. Ron was capable, he just wasn't that interested. Things he could see a good use to or that could pull off a good prank with he could really study and master, but otherwise he'd rather play chess. "I'm not sure what year they teach it though," Harry mumbled.
Ron looked around at that, "Come off it Harry, you know when they teach it. It's end of fourth year, start of fifth year material that." Hermione looked slightly surprised, to which Ron responded, "Don't worry about that, most of us don't know much magic when we arrive. By the end of the first year it mostly evens out. Harry's just a bit of a freak that's all."
"Oi!"
"What?" and a cheeky smile, followed by, "You know it's true. Harry's been taking lessons with Albus Dumbledore for years now. He could probably waltz through the first three years of practical work, the written exams would probably give him trouble though. He only ever really learns the theory that interests him. It's no wonder he's on 4th or 5th year stuff now."
Harry felt his face heat up, and it was only made worse when Hermione realised that Ron had mentioned Albus. "Wait, Albus Dumbledore? That must make you Harry Potter! You never said your last name was Potter. I knew that you'd be starting a magical school about now but I had no idea that I'd actually meet you. I've read about you," she said gravely, as if it were some solemn accolade.
"Yes, he's Harry Potter. Didn't you see the scar? Anyways, I'm Ron Weasley, thanks for asking," bristled Ron slightly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. My name is Hermione Granger. I just met Harry in the corridor that's all, just a bit of a shock." She stood there for a few seconds more, Harry just looking self-conscious and a little uncomfortable and Ron a little bit peeved that she'd skipped over introductions with him. "I suppose I really had better get back to my carriage, I didn't think finding Neville's toad would take so long."
As she left Ron turned to Harry and made a 'huh' sound, and it was easy to see that he hadn't exactly been impressed by Hermione Granger. Still, Harry thought she seemed nice so maybe Ron might come round. Having said that, they might never even hang out once they got assigned houses so it wasn't really worth worrying about how Ron and Hermione interacted.
Harry and Ron continued showing each other some of the spells they had learnt, Ron in particular told Harry all about a useful set of spells that weren't exactly spells in their own right but were able to alter other spells. For example, it was possible to set a time delay or trigger a spell. It was something that the twins had been showing him, though Harry suspected that they'd get better results out of runes they were often time consuming to make and it would be relatively easy to tell who had made them so perhaps they had it right. Harry suspected you didn't last long as troublemakers if you couldn't cover your tracks. Neville had joined them soon after Harry had shown Ron a couple of the colour changing charms he'd learnt. The three of them spent the time together in the arms of blissful childhood camaraderie of the kind that we sadly only recognise after it and innocence has gone.
Suddenly, and in complete contrast to the easy going nature of the discussion, Ron and Neville fell quiet and were staring intently out of the glass compartment door. The two of them were tense, and Harry could even see Ron starting to go red behind the ears as he often did when his temper was feeling the strain. Slowly Harry turned to see exactly what had such a pronounced effect on his usually vivacious friends, and was not at all pleased with what he saw.
Draco Malfoy. He was stood on the other side of the door, glaring malevolently at the occupants of the carriage. He was the picture of pure-blood arrogance, slick platinum blond hair, self-assured smirk with his nose turned up slightly so that despite being a short boy he seemed to be looking down on you all the same.
It didn't help that he was flanked by the massive frames of Crabbe and Goyle. They were mountains of men, shoulders broader than barrels, and they managed to look pretty threatening. Crabbe was clearly cracking his knuckles.
They all stood staring for at least a minute, maybe even two before Malfoy simply raised his right hand and sharply brought one finger across his throat in a deliberate slashing motion. He held his gaze with them all in turn, before he turned sharply on his heel and left, henchmen in tow.
"Asshole," they all muttered in unison.
Neville looked a little bit shaken all the same. They'd had run ins with the Malfoy boy, but had generally come out on top before. It was slightly unnerving to think that they'd be living in the same place as that spiteful little boy, especially when he was a spiteful little boy who ordered around larger, spiteful boys.
It was sometime later that they and Neville disembarked from the Hogwarts Express and found themselves standing on the platform in Hogsmeade. Steam pooled around their feet, the engine having completed its marathon, the massive pistons were still and now resting once more.
"Firs' yers, over 'ere!" bellowed an incredible voice, one that spread uncontrollable grins across the faces of the three friends.
"Hagrid!" They all cried in unison, rushing towards him. Hagrid would sometimes come and visit Harry during the summers, usually with some fantastic creature in tow or a tall tale to tell and he always, always, brought cake. The massive man was bearded and hairy to the extreme, but he had large kind eyes that stood out from the sea of hair and made him seem almost docile.
"Hey! Good ter' see you there Harry, how's your old man? Great man Dumbledore, great man. Speaking o' Albus, he'll be stopping by tonight after the feast is over and I'm sure he'll want ter' see you."
This was, as far as Harry was concerned, great news. "Thanks Hagrid, it's good to see you too." Harry saw Hagrid when his job would allow, he remembered the time they went to Diagon Alley together to get his school things. He'd hated the crowds, but it was obvious just how much pride Hagrid had in Harry by the way he beamed the whole time as people would stop to shake the boys hand. As much as Harry hated being the centre of attention, he didn't really want to let Hagrid down, who would always take the first opportunity to boast about some accomplishment of his. He'd left the Alley that day with a beautiful snowy owl as a birthday present, and he'd never been more grateful to Hagrid.
"Right, well, you'd best follow me now. You'll 'ave to come down to me hut sometime fer tea fellers, and have a proper catch up. Right now I've gotta' wrangle the rest o' your classmates down to the lake."
It wasn't long after that they were bundled, four apiece, into little boats. Hagrid, of course, had one to himself but looked like he could have used a second one. Harry, Ron, Neville and another boy who, if they stretched their memories would vaguely be able to recall was called Justin, were all doing their level best not to fall into the lake.
They all set off from the shore at once, just as the sun was setting over the horizon. It cast massive orange shadows that reflected off the lake surface, that contrasted sharply with the gorgeous, rolling green of the Scottish country and deep blue of the lake. Harry thought he could vaguely make out a massive shape moving somewhere in the depths, but maybe that was just him wanting to see the giant squid. Plenty of Hagrid's tales had revolved around tangling with the leviathan that lived at the bottom.
His breath caught in his chest as the castle loomed into view, around the steep hills and valleys and over the forest , and again he felt the gravitas of the moment very keenly. Here he was striking out, if not on his own then at least without the safety net who were Albus and Remus. He yearned to make them proud, to make the both of them glow when he came home with the stories of his exploits. Most of all he wanted to bring back some piece of magic that would astound them both, something that would make Albus look up and tell him that he'd done well.
The spires and towers of Hogwarts were calling to him, and he didn't intend to let them down.
It wasn't long after that the entire first year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had congregated in the entrance hall, some waiting eagerly and others nervously for the sorting. Neville was among those with anxiety issues.
Of course it didn't help when Ron told him that his brothers said they'd have to wrestle a troll as a test. Harry couldn't help but snort at that, who'd be fool enough to go toe-to-toe with a troll?
They'd been milling about aimlessly for nearly five minutes, studiously avoiding Draco and his cronies, when an incredibly elderly man in a rather stupid hat entered the room. Harry recognised him as Elphias Doge, one of Albus' friends from school. Harry had met him on occasion, but he didn't know him anywhere near as well as he did Hagrid. He was a pretty tall wizard with short grey hair that was mostly hidden by an absolutely ridiculous purple hat. When you looked at him it was hard not to think about dust.
"Good evening First Years, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor Doge, I teach Transfiguration here and I will be seeing you all in classes very shortly." His voice put you in mind of old, cracked paper or kindling that was dry, tried and extremely flammable. "In but a few moments you will be sorted into the houses that will become like your family here. I imagine many of you will be nervous but you have little need to be. Follow me."
He lead them through two massive wooden doors, that towered at least three heights of man above even the tall Professor, and into what Harry assumed must be the Great Hall, because surely there couldn't be a room grander. It was massive, at least twice the height of the doors and with an incredible ceiling that was currently rendering the evening twilight in all its glory.
Long tables were set out separating the four great houses. Harry wondered which one he'd end up sitting at. He hoped he'd be with Ron. He supposed that Hupplepuff wasn't really that bad when he thought about it, but in his heart he knew he was bound for Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.
The hall was silent as they made their way towards the head table, the faces of their Professors looking down on them from high. Hagrid, the game keeper, on the far left smiled and waved at Harry. The others were far more taciturn. Several of them Harry didn't know, including the nervous looking guy wearing the turban.
Unfortunately Harry was acquainted with Professor Severus Snape. The man was about as warm as a glacier, and his stern countenance belied no trace of kindness. Especially not when he was looking at Harry. He'd never really understood exactly why Snape disliked him so much, even after Albus had explained about the childhood feud he'd perused so vigorously with James Potter. Albus had never let Snape take it out on him, as he so dearly wanted to do, but it was clear that the two of them would never be cordial with each other. Potions was going to be something of a nightmare.
Some were pleasantly familiar though. The ever friendly and excitable Professor Flitwick was looking as merry and cheerful as he ever did, and Headmistress McGonagall was sitting in her rightful place as head of the institution. She nodded to Professor Doge to continue with the ceremony.
Doge removed his wand from his robes, and with a swish had materialised a three-legged stool and placed upon it gently a battered old hat. "Each of you will wear this hat in turn when I call your name. It will call out the name of your house and then you will join your table."
Harry, who already knew how this was going to work, wasn't surprised. Neville and Ron were clearly a lot happier now they knew for certain they didn't have to try wrestling with a dangerous creature. He could also her a faint, incredulous "A hat decides?" from someone in the crowd who may have been Hermione Granger.
Though Doge clearly hadn't heard her, he went on to say "The Sorting Hat will look into your hearts and minds and assign you to the place where you most belong," he droned, "now, let us begin."
In alphabetical order the sorting began, and notably Hermione Granger was sent to Gryffindor, who let out a fantastic cheer for her. She blushed a little, but recovered her compose and ran, grinning to join the house table.
Neville Longbottom was the first of Harry's two closest friends to be sorted, and he also drew Gryffindor. He stood up looking a little bit dazed, flashed a delighted smile towards Harry and Ron and went to join his table. Harry thought that he was maybe standing a little bit taller than he had been before. Neville had been convinced he was going to Hufflepuff, and while it was a perfectly fine house, his grandmother had always told him that it was for duffers and fools and that the only real house was Gryffindor. Privately he wondered just what damage Augusta Longbottom had done to her grandson with talk like that, but at least Neville would be able to make her happy this time.
Harry Potter was next to be called, and as he sat down on the wooden stool he had time to think Maybe having a hat sort us is a little silly... before the fabric touched his head and descended to a point just above his nose. It was far too big to be sorting first years for a start. He sat there for a second, feeling rather like a fool before the horrible worry crept in that maybe the hat wouldn't give him a house and that he'd sit there until they told him there'd been some kind of mistake and that he'd have to go home.
"So, where to put you, eh? " The thing whispered inside his skull, "You seem like a tough nut to crack. You'd do well in Ravenclaw, m'boy that's for sure. You've got that thirst for knowledge. Hufflepuff'd make a good bet too, I'm sure, especially how you promised the Weasley boy it was the same house for the both of you, regardless of what it was. On the other hand," it continued, "I can rather see you at home in Slytherin too. You've got one almighty drive to prove yourself, haven't you? There's ambition in here, oh yes."
Harry balked, and thought back "I don't want to be in there with Malfoy, I'm not some kind of power hungry, attention grabbing brat like he is."
"Now now, there's no need for that. I didn't say anything of the sort, I know what your ambition is Harry. You want to be the kind of man Albus Dumbledore is, don't you? You want so very desperately to be worthy of his praise, to some day be his equal, and that is high ambition indeed. Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness ..."
He sat stock still, ramrod straight in the stool, before coolly replying "No thank you, not Slytherin. I think you're wrong about that, and I'd rather be in Gryffindor if it was all the same with you, that's where all my friends are going to be after all."
"What a loyal statement! Surely that makes your worthy of Hufflepuff? No? I suppose standing up to the Sorting Hat, the object that was created for the very purpose of divining your potential perfectly, and telling it that it's just plain wrong is a rather brave act. I guess it had better be Gryffindor!" The last word was shouted aloud, and the table decked out in red and gold went crazy.
"WE GOT POTTER!" the Weasley twins chanted, until it was picked up by most of the table who screamed it into the hall. Harry, more than a little bit embarrassed by it all, muttered his thanks to the hat before climbing down from the stool and making his way over to the table amidst the pandemonium that his sorting had caused.
The entire hall immediately fell silent a moment later when McGonagall stood up, even Fred and George decided now would be a good time to shut up. Very quietly, but very firmly, she said "Thank you, please proceed with the sorting."
Harry sat down between the two Weasley twins, who had pushed the 3rd years on either side of them out of the way to make room, where he was greeted him warmly, "Harry old chum! Glad you could make it, pip pip, you're one of us now!" cried George.
"Thanks guys," he muttered shaking their hands, nearly having his arm wrenched off each time as they comically pulled him about, to the delight of the assembled students, "What was that all about with McGonagall though?"
Fred looked solemn, "If there's one thing to learn mate, it's that the Headmistress isn't a lady to cross. I think she has a soft spot for us Gryffindors, but since the rest of her is made of granite it's hardly that soft. Best thing to do with her is just make sure you don't get caught."
The three turned back in time to see the hat fall down over even Ron's amazingly big ears, which were probably turning red by now, and it was a good job that they looked over when they had as it was finished practically before it began. The hat hadn't been on his head for much longer than a few seconds before it shouted, confidently, "Gryffindor!"
Once more the table erupted with laughter, cheers and general merriment. The poor third years were shoved aside once more to make room for Ron between Fred and Harry as the twins went just as mad for their brother as they had done for Harry.
"Good show old bean! We knew you'd pull though in the end, eh what?" said Fred, with false pomp.
"What ho!" agreed George.
"Thanks guys," Ron replied, enthusiastically, before they settled in to watch the rest of the sorting. It didn't hold any particular surprises, Malfoy and his goons were already sorted into Slytherin and the rest of the students had been filed away into one house or another with nothing to cause any particular commotion.
As Doge cleared away the hat and stool, once more the entire school fell silent as Professor McGonagall stood up to address the new year.
"Greetings Hogwarts, it is a pleasure to see you all here again," she said, in her distinctive accent, "I trust that the summer has left you refreshed and ready to tackle a new year of learning." A groan rose up from the assembled students, to which she allowed herself the smallest of smiles.
"First of all, a few announcements. I'd like you all to welcome back Professor Quirrell, who is moving from Professor of Muggle Studies to Defense Against the Dark Arts and a very warm welcome to Professor Burbage who will be taking over the duties of Muggle Studies." A polite applause followed.
"Next, mostly for the benefit of our newer students, a full list of banned items is available for you to view in Mr Filch's office. Please note that the Forbidden Forest is so called for a reason, I will be most displeased if I have to fetch any of you from its depths. Finally, a new announcement," at this plenty of heads turned with interest, "the Third Floor Corridor is out of bounds this year due to extensive refurbishment work." This was not the interesting news the student body was hoping for.
"So, with that let the feast begin." She clapped grandly and the plates and bowls became filled with mouth-watering food. It was actually possible to hear the groan of the tables as they strained under the new weight. It took Ron less than 5 seconds to have a chicken leg in each hand.
"So guys, what about that third floor corridor then? Thinking you'll get up to some mischief in there this year?" Ron asked the twins.
"Hardly, that's below our level as master pranksters now," Fred sniffed, waving the matter off.
"Yeah," agreed George, "We'll be spending our time mostly invading the Forbidden Forest I think. I hear that there's all sorts of things hidden in there, places that people have forgotten about for centuries." He nodded with authority and wide eyed in honesty.
"So," considered Harry, "If people have forgotten about them, how have you two heard about them?" The twins looked at each other for a moment, and then grinned.
"Nice try Harry, nearly had us with that one." Harry just shook his head in confusion and got down to eating before Ron had devoured everything on the table within reach.
Pretty soon the feast was over, and everyone was getting ready to leave for the common rooms just as Harry was finishing his last piece of treacle tart. Everyone was full and glad to be heading to bed as they all slowly dragged themselves out into the entrance hall.
"Hey, you - Potter," hailed a tall, brown haired boy with a mild Scottish accent, "I want to talk to you. Name's Oliver Wood, I'm the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I hear you like to play."
"No Oliver, I goddamn love to play," Harry replied.
"Well, that's a start Potter. Some people think that Quidditch is a matter of life and death, and I'm disappointed in them because it's so much more than that." Oliver was grinning, clearly pleased with the answer he'd received. "I hear from the Weasley twins that you're a pretty good seeker. Actually, what they said was that you were a damn good seeker, the equal of Charlie Weasley and maybe even better but I'll decide that for myself. I expect to see you at the tryouts in November Potter, understand? If you make it on the team it won't be an easy ride - there'll be training at least three times a week. You'll need to get up early and work damn hard."
"I won't let you down Wood."
"Good, it's going to be a fine year for Quidditch, I can just feel it," he said with genuine relish and it was easy to see that he was insanely dedicated to the game, and for a moment the mad, almost possessed look in Wood's eye made Harry wonder if he was getting in over his head, "I'll see you on the pitch."
Oliver left for common room, and Harry made to follow him but through the mess of people he could just about see Albus Dumbledore standing in one corner of the entrance hall, animatedly talking with Hagrid and McGonagall. He pushed his way through the crowds, shouting for Ron to go on without him, striving against the current of people to reach the three who were still deep in conversation.
As he got close he could see Hagrid pass a small parcel to Albus, and could just about make out "... good job I went when I did, given the news, eh?" rumbled Hagrid, though thanks to the upheaval in the corridor it was only the fact that Hagrid didn't know how to be quiet that let him hear it. McGonagall said something that he couldn't possibly have heard, but he managed to get just close enough to hear Albus say something that really caught his attention.
"Don't fret Minerva, I will organise a more effective defence within next two months." She pursed her lips in response, and bit back all the same. "I don't want it here in the castle any longer than it has to be, Albus. If it's really so important then it shouldn't be in a school ..."
However, it was at that point the three noticed him making his way towards them and abruptly changed topic. "Rubeus and I will meet you there, it seems there is someone who'd like to talk to you. Don't let him out past curfew Albus, I know what you're like." She gave the old man a disapproving look and then the two of them strode off, moving through the crowd and out of the large double doors that led deeper into the school before Harry could even make it over to Albus.
"Harry, m'boy," he said, and smiled down warmly and clapped his hand on the boys shoulder, "Though it's hardly been a day it's already good to see you. Since your prefect seems to have left you behind, how about we talk while I show you the way to the common room?"
Harry smiled, "Which one though, Albus? I could tell you I was in Ravenclaw and you'd show me the wrong one."
Dumbledore laughed, and looked over the half-moon glasses at him. "I am willing to bet my considerable collection of woolly socks that I am looking at a brand new Gryffindor. You and young Ronald are ideally suited to that house. I was a Gryffindor in my day, you know?"
The two walked companionably through the halls of Hogwarts, their chatter generally inconsequential as Albus pointed out various places and even one or two of the lesser known shortcuts. As far as Harry was concerned they were confronted with the portrait of the Fat Lady, and the hidden entrance to the Gryffindor common room, all too soon.
" So," followed by an awkward pause, "This is where I must say goodnight Harry. I'm told the password is Chrono Trigger."
"Yeah, sure ... yeah." Harry looked down at his feet awkwardly. It was weird, certainly. Especially given that the two of them hadn't spent a lot of recreational time together in the last year or two. Now there wouldn't be any opportunities at all. He didn't want to bring up how Albus had almost missed him at the platform, because that would eventually bring up all the Quidditch games and that discussion never ended well.
Dumbledore coughed awkwardly. "Goodnight Harry," there was yet another slight pause, "I will miss you."
Harry smiled back at him, "Thanks. I'll write to you, if you promise you'll write back." Albus nodded and held out his hand, which Harry shook. Neither of them had been particularly good with physical affection. He watched Dumbledore for a few seconds before he turned and disappeared behind the portrait.
It was now Halloween, and it had been three weeks since Harry had last received a letter from Albus Dumbledore. He keenly felt a bitter disappointment about this, but he didn't want to bug Albus like a little child. It had started off well, Harry had written loads about his first month at school though he missed out just how much he hated Snape. Potions class was a nightmare and there was no respite from the mean things his instructor would breathe down his neck as he tried to make a decent potion. It was to his credit as a student that he usually managed to correctly brew the potion, but it was rare that he'd make anything that could be called 'good' while that greasy bat hovered around. He'd managed to avoid disaster a couple of times when Malfoy had sabotaged his or Neville's work but it was only a matter of time.
Transfiguration was a difficult class. The spell work Harry had absolutely no problem with, he'd turned a match into a needle on his first try, and the reading was fascinating but Professor Doge didn't have incredible oratory skills. He managed to make even some of the most amazing facts sound really dull. Some of the harsher students called him Dogbreath Doge behind his back, apparently a nickname from his youth he'd never been able to get rid of. Flying was also a boring class - Harry craved the freedom of the sky and the tedious, uneventful flying lessons were doing nothing to help.
He, Neville and Ron had all visited Hagrid on a number of occasions and always had great fun. Harry had been surreptitiously been trying to sneak in questions about the brown package that the huge man had hand delivered to Albus on the night of the sorting. Hagrid got very uncomfortable when Harry had pieced together that the parcel and the Gringotts break in that had been reported in the papers a while back were related, and it only took a little bit of pressure from there before he'd blurted out the name Nicholas Flamel and something about a stone. He'd spent a good five minutes after that muttering nothing but 'I shouldn't 'ave told you tha'. Ron wasn't too interested, and Neville wasn't really a big fan of snooping around other peoples secrets, figuring that if Dumbledore was involved then everything must be alright.
Harry and Ron were now running as fast as they could down the main staircase, Ron in the lead and chiding him for being too slow. "Come on mate, we're gonna' miss the start of the Halloween feast if you don't hurry up!" Harry rolled his eyes, Ron was never thinking about anything much other than food.
Unfortunately for Ron and his dinner plans they came across a situation in the Entrance Hall.
"Give it back! That's mine!" shouted a voice the two easily recognised as Neville. They exchanged a quick glace and put on a burst of speed, rushing down the last flight of stairs and straight into what looked like a nasty confrontation.
Crabbe and Goyle were standing a few feet either side of Neville laughing uproariously. Harry could make out the flash of something red as Goyle threw something over Neville's head, which Crabbe caught despite the attempt that Neville made to intercept it. Harry quickly guessed it was the fragile Remembrall that Neville's grandmother had sent him a few days earlier.
Not far to the side of that a separate confrontation was going on between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. It was obvious that Malfoy had somehow gained the upper hand in this verbal duel, because he was leaning casually against a suit of armour, watching his goons work, while Hermione was bright red with anger and looked close to tears.
Harry and Ron looked at each, and nodded in an unspoken agreement.
Ron pealed left and shouted "Oi, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Harry, confident that Ron and Neville together could handle those two buffoons especially while Malfoy was distracted, went right to back up Hermione.
Draco looked up, and sneered maliciously at Harry. "Move along Potter. Useless thing like her isn't worth your time," he drawled, shooting a sly sideways glance at Granger, before raising a hand to smooth his hair. Hermione looked like she choked back a sob before she balled her fists in rage.
"She's more important than a little maggot like you, Draco" Harry replied coolly.
Irritation graced his aristocratic features as he snarled at Harry, clearly done with even the meagre pretence of civility, "Quiet you little blood-traitor," before making a horrible, ignoble noise in the back of his throat and spitting on Harry's shoe, "and while you're at it why don't you take your orange performing monkey and the fat one away with you? It leaves a foul taste in my mouth just talking to you, so leave before I have Crabbe make you."
Hermione fumed, "Don't talk to people like that, you worm. We're not going anywhere until you give Neville his Remembrall back, we won't let you get away with this."
"Oh, it's not his anymore Granger, it's mine. I think you'll find that's what happens when you steal something," his voice oozed smugness, "and I think you'll find I will get away with it, because I'm a pure-blood and frankly, just better than you."
"I think you've had more than enough of a chance Draco, if you don't give him it back right now then so help me Merlin I will hex you into next week," Harry drew his wand menacingly, and advanced one more foot towards Malfoy who stood up straight and eyed it nervously.
"Looking for a fight Potter? How about a duel then, or are you just a big coward?"
Harry laughed, "I'll fight you anytime Draco, anytime you like. Are you sure it's a good idea to challenge me to a duel? Remember how that turned out the last time?" Malfoy had challenged Harry to a duel two years previously at Tracey Davis's birthday party and the two of them had even begun to square off, which was ridiculous because neither of them had wands on them at the time. Both Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore had intervened before any serious commotion could occur. Draco still managed to come out of it looking the fool as his father had dragged him away by his ear, howling the whole time.
"Dumbledore isn't here to save you this time Potter," but even still, Draco looked anxious as he fiddled nervously with his family signet ring and his face turned blotchy and pink in barely concealed embarrassment.
"And precious Daddy isn't here to save you either."
"Whatever you say, Potter," he practically spat the name, words laden with venom, "Crabbe, Goyle! Give him back his dumb toy, we can always take it back another time. Now take those morons you call friends and this pathetic mudblood whore away with you."
There was a sharp crack as Hermione's palm connected with Draco's face. She had exploded into tears, absolutely distraught. Whatever he'd said before coupled with this latest comment had clearly pushed her over the edge. Malfoy rolled his head with her hand completely taking whatever power she had managed to muster out of the slap. He just smiled back at her sickly as she turned tail and fled down the corridor.
"I swear to Merlin Malfoy -"
"What Potter? Just what, exactly, will you do?" Malfoy looked back condescendingly. "I thought so," he said, satisfied, after a moment of silence, "Come on you two." He then sauntered away through the doors, waving haughtily over his shoulder without even looking back, and into the Great Hall flanked by his mammoth friends.
Harry turned back to the guys, and checked to make sure they'd managed to get the Remembrall back from those heavyset thugs and Neville nodded in confirmation and asked, "Is she alright? What happened? Should we go after her?"
"She could be anywhere in the castle by now ..." muttered Ron.
"I heard Lavender say that she sometimes goes into the girls toilets on the first floor to cry..." Harry said softly.
"But ... we're already late for the feast guys!" complained Ron, who at least had the grace to look ashamed of what he'd just said.
Neville was stoic, "She stopped and helped me. Didn't have to, so I reckon I owe her ... least I can do is make sure she's alright." He looked at Harry, already apparently their de facto leader, who was pretty sure that Neville was going to go even if Harry and Ron didn't.
"Alright Nev, you've made your case. I'm coming too. What about you?" Ron spluttered for a few seconds and made gestures towards the feast in a futile effort to impress upon them the importance of the culinary event that was happening on just the other side of those doors. The two boys sighed at him, turned and left.
"Well ... shit," mumbled Ron as he grudgingly followed, jogging to make up the ground they'd gained on him. When he caught up there was a small smile on Harry's face, "What? What's got you so happy?"
"Nothing Ron, just glad you're coming too." The three boys continued in silence until they reached the girls bathroom on the first floor.Neville knocked gently. There was no reply from within, but Harry was pretty sure that he could hear small sobs from inside the room. Harry knocked, pushed the door open a fraction and said "Hermione? Is that you?"
"Go away Harry, I don't want to see anyone," sniffled Hermione.
"We're not going anywhere Hermione. I'd ask if you were okay, but that would be a bit of a dumb question ..." he said in response, "Can we come in?"
"Harry, mate -" said Ron.
"Not right now Ron," a little agitated at the interruption.
"Harry!" exclaimed Ron and Neville both. He turned to look at them and they were both pointing at some place behind him. Distantly he could hear the noise of a lot of people moving, it sounded like the feast had finished, but this was still far too early for it to be over. With trepidation he glanced over his shoulder.
He could only partially see the massive creature that stood behind him. It was at least 8 feet tall, and nearly 6 feet wide. Green, with a massive trail of saliva still hanging from its open mouth, it dragged a massive tree trunk behind it with one hand, soil and dirt still clinging to the tree's base as though it had been freshly uprooted. It looked at them with a quizzical expression. Harry suspected the only reason the three of them weren't dead already was that it hadn't expected to see anyone as it had rounded the corner.
"Troll," gasped Ron, completely redundantly.
"Yeah, I got that Ron. Neville, get Hermione out of there now!" Neville dashed into the bathroom, and the troll seemed to register this, beginning the slow process of overcoming it's surprise. "I've got a plan Ron, but you won't like it."
"Just hurry up and tell me," the two of them backed off slowly, "I need you to distract it for me. I need you to get it to follow you down the stairs and through the entrance hall, alright? Can you do that?"
"You want me to what?! You want me to let that thing chase me?"
"Trust me Ron," Harry shouted, "have I ever let you down before? I'll be there, ready and waiting, okay?"
"Oh shit, I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into doing this ..." he pulled out his wand and nearly dropped it, his hands sweaty in fear, and shot brightly coloured sparks towards the troll before running as though Voldemort himself was behind him. The troll was momentarily blinded by this, but was made more furious on a more long-term basis. Harry ducked into the bathroom and watched from the doorway as it bellowed and gave chase. He really hoped that Ron would be alright.
After it had passed he turned and looked at his two remaining friends, grabbed hold of the still protesting Hermione and shouted "Come on, we've got to get out of here now!"
They ran faster than they'd ever ran before, Harry leading them down a secret staircase that cut out the first floor corridor and main staircase and brought them practically straight out into the entrance hall. He did his best to explain the plan en route, "Look it boils down to this - I need the two of you to stand outside and close the main doors as soon as Ron runs through, okay?"
"Those doors on their own won't hold a mountain troll, Harry!" cried Neville, who was puffing and panting with the effort required to keep up with them.
"Just do it!" he shouted, as they screamed to a halt in the hall. Neville and Hermione, who was busy muttering 'Where are all the professors? Where?!', took up their positions outside by the main doors while Harry retrieved his wand and got to work.
When he was done laying his trap, he incanted a final spell and tapped himself on the head with his wand. He hoped that it would work, he'd never really been very good at this spell when Albus had shown him it and now his life depended upon it. Fortunately, he felt the weird sensation akin to an egg breaking upon his head and he slowly, too slowly for Harry's liking, faded in to the background.
Not a second later did a screaming Ron come pounding down the main staircase and through the first set of wooden double doors. Following close behind was the massive mountain troll swinging the tree, knocking paintings from the wall and suits of armour from their alcoves in great swathes in front of it. Harry winced as he saw the club come down right where Ron had been standing just a second ago.
As the sprinting, red-headed blur made it through the main doors he could hear Hermione shout "Now!" as she and Neville pushed the doors shut from the outside. Harry, who had remained hidden inside the entrance hall behind a suit or armour, flicked his wand at the first set of doors and they slammed shut too.
Deeply burnt into the wood of only doors leading in or out of this room were mystical symbols. A reasonably complicated rune had been carved by magical fire into the antique wood of the Hogwarts doors, perhaps ruining them forever in the process. However, as the two halves of the symbols joined together Harry was able to activate them.
The doors glowed for a second, and not a moment too soon for the troll threw its entire body against the main doors, in a desperate attempt to follow the funny creature it had been chasing, but was deeply confused when it simply slammed into the heavy wood which refused to move even an inch.
It followed to do exactly what trolls do when they are confused, which is throw a tantrum followed quickly by forgetting what it was that had annoyed them. It waved it's club about, breaking priceless furniture and destroying paintings (the occupants of which had long since vanished into frames green) and generally wrecked the room before calming down slightly. But only slightly.
With one hand it scratched its mighty behind and with the other raised its heavy, menacing club. The troll tilted its head to one side and sniffed. Invisible or not, Harry realised that it could probably still smell him, though how it ever managed to sense anything with its nose other than its own ripe stench was beyond him.
This left Harry with a dilemma. He'd had to remain inside the room to magically seal it. So he was now stuck, the only doors out fastened to curb the rampage of the foul beast before him, in a room with an enraged mountain troll.
It slammed it's club down on the floor in Harry's general direction then stared towards his hiding place and, nostrils flaring, began to advance.
A/N - Thanks for coming back, especially after such a long hiatus. I hope that some of you have some comments or constructive criticisms you'd like to share with me, as all of that goes to making me a better writer so I can, hopefully, deliver you a better story.
Discount,