Dark Lord

A Troll?!

It was Halloween morning, and the Gryffindors had Charms. Professor Flitwick had placed everyone into pairs so that they could practice making objects fly, starting with feathers that he had given them all. Neville and Seamus were partnered together, the two boys' fist-bumping, while Ron was to work with Hermione. It was hard to tell who was angrier about the arrangement. "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, perched on top of his pile of books. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." It was very difficult. Neville and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Neville was finally able to get it to hover about three inches, but it quickly fell back down when he got overly excited. Seamus than tried to replicate what he saw the other boy do, but ended up setting fire to the feather instead - Neville had to put it out with his hat. Ron, who was right next to them, wasn't having much more luck. His own feather refused to budge, and Hermione nagging him wasn't improving his mood. "You do it, then, if you're so clever!" Ron finally snarled at her, but she made the feather hover about four feet above their heads, gaining praise from the professor. Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," he told his three roommates as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly." Before anyone could answer, someone hurried past them. It was Hermione, and she had tears falling down her face. "Don't you think that was a bit harsh, Ron?" Neville asked the redhead, who looked uncomfortable. "So? She must've noticed she's got no friends." "Who's got no friends?" A familiar voice asked. The four boys looked up to see Harry, Draco, and Blaise walking over to them. When the Slytherin boys found out what had happened, they all gave Ron unimpressed looks. 

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, the seven boys overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. The group glared at Ron, who looked more awkward at this new information. "You really should apologize to her, Ron." Neville gently told him. "Yeah, but she'll need to come out of the bathroom first..." The boy agreed, wishing he could've taken back what he had said. A moment later, they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations distracted them from the Hermione situation. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. "Look, a bunch of mini-Snapes!!" Neville elbowed his brother in the ribs, but Harry just laughed. They all then separated to go to their own tables to eat. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. The boys were just helping themselves to the food when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. 

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he roared, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Neville pulled Dean and Seamus aside, Ron following. "Hermione doesn't know about the troll, so Ron and I are gonna go find her. You two cover for us if anyone notices we're not there, ok? Come on, Ron!!" Before anyone could disagree or voice any concerns, Neville ran off, dragging the redhead with him. Dean and Seamus shared confused looks, but obeyed and followed the other Gryffindors to the common room. Neville and Ron ran into Harry and Draco, Harry having the same idea. "I sent Blaise with the others to cover us." "Dean and Seamus are covering for us, too." "Let's go find Hermione." The brothers nodded, their two friends following them rather reluctantly to what was certain doom. The four boys hurried down a deserted corridor, heading towards the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. "Hide!" Ron hissed as he and Draco pulled the Riddle brothers behind a large stone griffin. Peering around, they saw Snape cross the corridor and disappear from view. "What's he doing? Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?" Harry whispered, eyes narrowing. "Search me." Ron shrugged. "Looks like he's heading for the third floor..." Neville frowned as he stared after the man. "But isn't it out of bounds this year?" Draco asked, when Ron held up his hand. "Do you all smell that?" The other three boys sniffed the air, only for a foul stench to reach their nostrils. "The troll!" Harry and Neville exclaimed simultaneously, pulling their friends with them just in time to see a twelve-foot-tall troll slowly slouch into a room. The four boys cautiously made their way to the door as quietly as possible, when a high, petrified scream came from inside. They paled once they realized that the scream must belong to Hermione. They ran inside. 

Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went. "We'll get Hermione, you two confuse it!" Harry said to Neville, who nodded in agreement. The Slytherins went over to grab Hermione while the Gryffindor boys made noise and cast spells, finally defeating the ugly troll. And that is how Hermione joined the ever-growing group of friends. It was also how Dumbledore received a very angry Howler from a distressed (M/N).