human again / hp.

Chapter 10

The damp, cold air of the girl's bathroom wrapped around me as I leaned against the sink, watching Hermione through the mirror. Her face was pale, her cheeks streaked with tears, and she still sniffled as she tried to regain her composure. I stayed quiet for a moment, unsure what to say next. Comforting people wasn't exactly my strong suit, but I felt like Hermione needed it.

A second later, there was a thunderous boom from somewhere nearby, and the walls seemed to shiver. I grabbed Hermione's arm instinctively, pulling her toward me.

"What was that, we need to get out of here!" I said urgently. But Hermione didn't move—she looked terrified, her eyes locked on the door as if she was trying to will it to stay closed.

Just then, the sound of something massive shuffling and grunting reached us. It was coming closer. My blood ran cold as I realized what it was.

"Is that...?" Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible.

"A troll," I said, my voice shaking.

The door creaked again, and then it burst open, revealing the towering form of the mountain troll. It was hideous—gray, warty skin, a long, drooping nose, and massive arms dragging a crude wooden club. The stench hit us immediately, like rotten food and dirty socks.

Hermione screamed, darting behind me, and I barely managed to keep my knees from giving out. The troll lumbered in, its small, beady eyes scanning the room. It snorted loudly, raising its club and smashing a row of stalls into splinters.

"Run!" I shouted, but Hermione was frozen, her back pressed against the wall.

The troll turned its gaze toward us, its lips curling in what I could only assume was a snarl. It raised its club high. Just as it swung down, the door burst open again, and Harry and Ron charged in.

"Hermione, Celeste,  move!" Harry yelled, throwing a piece of wood at the troll's back. The troll turned, confused by the new attackers, giving us just enough time to scramble out of its direct path.

The next few moments were chaos. The troll swung its club wildly, smashing sinks and mirrors. Harry jumped onto its back, grabbing the club and clinging on for dear life as it tried to shake him off. Hermione cowered under the last intact sink, her arms over her head.

"Do something!" Harry shouted, hanging upside down as the troll grabbed his leg and prepared to smash him into the floor.

"Ron, use Wingardium Leviosa!" I shouted, but my voice cracked as panic gripped me. I'd practiced Wingardium Leviosa a dozen times that afternoon, but my wand flew under one of the broken sinks

Ron fumbled with his wand, his face pale. "Uh—uh—Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, pointing at the troll's club.

To my astonishment, it worked. The club lifted out of the troll's hand, hovering in the air for a moment before crashing down onto its head with a sickening thunk. The troll staggered, swayed, and then collapsed with a loud crash, the floor shaking beneath our feet.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by our ragged breathing. Hermione peeked out from under the sink, her eyes wide.

"Is it dead?" she whispered.

Harry shook his head, pulling his wand—covered in greenish goo—out of the troll's nose. "I don't think so. Just knocked out. Ugh, troll bogies." He wiped the wand on his robe, grimacing.

I helped Hermione to her feet, my hands still trembling. Just then, Professor McGonagall stormed in, her face a mixture of fury and shock. Snape and Quirrell followed, their expressions unreadable.

"Explain yourselves, all of you!" McGonagall demanded, her voice sharp.

Before Harry, Ron or I could speak, Hermione stepped forward, her voice trembling but steady. "It's my fault, Professor. I went looking for the troll. I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong. If they hadn't come to find me, I'd probably be dead."

McGonagall's face softened slightly, though her tone remained stern. "Be that as it may, Miss Granger, this was an extremely foolish thing to do. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your lack of judgment."

She turned to Harry, Ron and me, her expression hardening again. "As for you three, I hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many first-year students could face a fully-grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Five points will be awarded to each of you—for sheer dumb luck."

As the professors left, I turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were exchanging sheepish looks.

"You two saved our lives," I said quietly, my voice full of gratitude. "Thank you."

Ron shrugged, grinning slightly. "No problem. It's what we do, apparently." Seemingly forgotten that I was a Malfoy.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made her look completely different. "Thank you," she said softly, looking at both of them.

"What are friends for?" and with that sentence I felt like I had found my place in Hogwarts, with the three people my Father and my Twin despised the most.

A Muggle-Born, Half-Blood and a Blood-Traitor.

And just like that, the tension melted away. As we walked back to the common room together, I realized something had shifted between us. We weren't just classmates anymore—we were a team, friends.

And I was scared of my fathers reaction to that if he finds out.