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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Disturbing Imagery Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 160 Summary: Dumbledore is dead. Harry ran away from the Dursley's before getting his Hogwarts letter. Who will save the magical world now? Hitcount: Story Total: 85535; Chapter Total: 5547 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Neville was packed to go to Hogwarts long before it was time to head to Kings Cross. He had his robes, his books, his potions, his cauldron, his telescopes, his scales, his wand, and his toad--right useful for capturing insects in the greenhouses--and a few things not on the Hogwarts list of necessary books and equipment. After breakfast, but well before it was time to leave for Kings Cross, Neville's father called him into the parlor. Neville knew this must be important because they used this room mainly for formal occasions. "Neville, you are old enough now to know some things about, well, about the story of Harry Potter." "Yes, Da?" "Before Harry Potter destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, someone made a prophecy that only a baby born at the end of July to parents who had defied the Dark Lord three times would be able to vanquish him. There were only two children that fit this description: Harry Potter--and you." "Me?" "Yes, during the last war, your mother and I worked closely with Harry Potter's parents, and together we fought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named three times. You and Harry were both born at the end of July, just a day apart." "But the Dark Lord is gone, so I won't have to fight him, will I?" "We hope he is gone. But we know he was working on some very dark magic to make himself immortal. We don't know what he did, but there is a chance he could come back." Neville gulped. "Not much of one, though," his father said gently. "Neville, you are a brave young boy. Mainly I am telling you this so that, if you see Harry Potter at school, you can thank him. After all, if he hadn't destroyed the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have come after us." "Do you think I could have destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when I was a baby, the way Harry Potter did?" "I don't know. No one knows how the Dark Lord met his demise. All we know is that Harry Potter survived--but no one has seen him since." This was a lot for an eleven-year-old boy to think about. Fortunately, eleven-year-old boys were easily distracted. This was the most exciting day in Hermione Granger's young life. She and her parents had managed to find their way to platform 9-3/4, and now they were surrounded by people, many in regular clothing, but many more in wizard dress. A family of redheads wandered by with the mother giving last-minute instructions to her children. Another, smaller, family of platinum-blonds stood imperiously; apparently the boy would soon be a classmate of hers. It was all so overwhelming. She saw a round-faced boy calling out the name of someone named Trevor. "Are you lost?" she asked. He smiled at her. "No, it's my toad--he seems to have escaped. Don't worry." He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then surreptitiously pulled out a wand. "Accio Trevor," he said quietly, and suddenly she saw a large toad flying through the air, which the boy deftly caught and put into a cage. "I thought we weren't supposed to do magic until we got to the school," she said. "Won't you get in trouble?" "Did you get your wand at Ollivanders?" the boy asked. Hermione nodded and showed him her vine wand with a dragon heartstring. He pulled a second wand out of his robe. "Here's mine: cherry wood with a core of unicorn hair. These wands have a trace on them so the Ministry of Magic can detect if they are used by underage witches or wizards. Fortunately," he said with a conspiratorial smile, "I have another wand that belonged to my grandfather. It doesn't work as well for me as my own wand, but I can use it without the Ministry finding out." Hermione was a bit disappointed that she didn't have a second wand that she could use without getting in trouble. But she would be getting to use her wand soon enough. "I'm Neville, by the way," he said. "Neville Longbottom. You must be Muggleborn, or you probably would have known that about the wands." "My name's Hermione Granger. Yes, I just found out about magic when Professor Sprout came to my home. This is all so amazing." "Let's get on board and see if we can find a vacant compartment," said Neville. Hermione gave her parents a good-bye hug and followed Neville onto the last car of the train. The Grangers turned to go after the train left the station, but were met by two wizards in official-looking robes. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger? Please come with us." The wizards escorted them to a room with 40 or 50 chairs and invited them to sit down. Other people, mostly in non-wizard-looking clothing, were also entering the room and filling up the chairs, whilst people in wizard robes stood at the entrances. After a few minutes, a woman in a pink robe moved to a podium at the front of the room. "Hem hem," she said to get people's attention. "Hem. My name is Dolores Umbridge, and I'd like to welcome you on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. Everyone at the Ministry is very excited to see your children enter Hogwarts. As you know, for your own protection, and the safety of your children, the Ministry has agreed to provide you with wonderful new homes where no one will have to worry about violating the Wizarding Secrecy Act. Today we are happy to help you move into these new homes." "What about our old homes?" someone asked. "We haven't packed any of our belongings to move yet." "Please do not worry," said the woman in pink. "We have magically transported all of your furniture and other belongings to your new homes." "Will we be able to move back into our homes after our children graduate from Hogwarts?" someone else asked. "I am sorry," Umbridge said, "but the secrecy laws are very strict. I am sure you will very much enjoy living in the magical community." "Who is going to take care of our homes?" "I thought you understood when you signed your contracts," said the woman, looking a bit puzzled. "If you owned your homes, the Ministry has taken possession of them and sold them to raise money to build you new homes. If you rented your homes or have a mortgage, you will continue to pay that, but to the Ministry." The room filled with a loud buzzing. "I don't remember that in our contract," Dan said to Emma. "I read it pretty carefully before signing it." The woman in pink just smiled. "Why don't you allow these nice officials from the Department of Muggle Relations take you to your new homes? You can ask more questions when you get there." With some grumbling, most of the people stood up to leave. One of the wizards who met the Grangers in Kings Cross returned to them and said, "If you will follow me, I'll take you to your new home." He led them to a tall fireplace where green flames burned. "This is a special form of travel used by witches and wizards. If you hold my hands, however, you can join me." The Grangers looked at him with astonishment; going into a fireplace just did not seem like a wise thing to do. But if he was going with them, it couldn't hurt--could it? The wizard took some powder from a pot on shelf next to the fireplace opening and threw it into the fire. "Granger's residence," he said plainly. Then he took their hands and pulled them into the fire. There was no burning sensation, though they did feel some rapid motion. Suddenly, they were ejected into a bright room with white walls. Looking around, they noticed some of the furniture from their old house. One entire wall of the room was windows with sliding glass doors that led to a deck. Dan walked over to the windows. "We must be near Canary Wharf," he said, looking down. "I can see the Thames River." "Yes," said the Ministry official. "We've given everyone a home proportional to the one they previously lived in. Since you had one of the larger, nicer homes, we've placed you on one of the highest floors with the best views." Looking to the right, Dan could see a wall of windows perpendicular to their own. "Is this building shaped like an 'L'?" he asked. "Actually, it is shaped like an 'X,'" said the official. "In addition to housing for all non-magical relatives of children at Hogwarts, it is large enough to contain offices, restaurants, clothing stores--everything you need." "What about our dental practice?" asked Emma. "That is miles away from here. We have patients who are expecting our care this afternoon." "It will take us a couple of days to sort this out. If you can give us the names of some other dentalists. . ." "Dentists," said Dan, "Yes, quite," said the wizard. "If you can give us the names of some other dentists, we can arrange appointments for your immediate patients with them until we get this all, er, sorted out." The Grangers, of course, had reciprocal arrangements with other dentists to take each others' patients in case of emergencies, so they gave the names of those dentists to the official. "But this can't take too long," said Emma. "We've had many of our patients for more than 10 years, and we wouldn't want to lose any of them." The official promised everything would be fine. He gave them a key to their rooms and invited them to explore their home and the entire building, then left. They wandered around the apartment. "This has just as many rooms as our house, but they are all smaller," said Emma. "The furniture is crowded, and it is going to be hard to cook in this tiny kitchen." "I guess high-rise construction costs more," said Dan. "Do you think we would have agreed to let Hermione go to this school if we had known we would never be able to live in our home again?" "I don't know," said Emma. "I loved our home, but we also love Hermione." "Let's go see what the rest of the building is like," said Dan. Going into the hall, they found the elevators and discovered they were on the 65th floor of a 70-story building. They also quickly figured out that the northeast and southwest wings of the building were residential, whilst the northwest and southeast wings were offices. Stepping into the elevators, they discovered that shops and restaurants occupied the first five floors of the building. "It will take me days to shop at all of them!" cried Emma. That afternoon, Nicolby Philpot trudged down the street to his dentists' offices. His tooth had been aching for several days, but this was the first day his dentist, Emma Granger, could fit him in. When he got to the door of the office, however, it was locked. A sign was on the door: Please Contact One of the Following for Your Dentalist Needs The sign then listed the addresses and numbers of the dentists Dan and Emma had given to the Ministry official. Nicolby groaned; it would probably take several more days for one of these new dentists to find room in their calendars for him. On board the train, Hermione and Neville were joined in their compartment by three other first-year girls, Lavender Brown, and Padma and Parvati Patil. As the only Muggleborn of the group, Hermione felt a bit left out as the others chatted about people and families she had never met. She was grateful when Neville occasionally pulled her into the conversation by asking about her family. Midway through the trip, a blond boy pulled open the compartment door and stared at everyone. "Longbottom," he said quietly. "Malfoy," Neville replied. The boy turned and returned to the front of the train. "I guess that proves it," said Neville. "Proves what?" asked Parvati. "Harry Potter isn't on the train." "How can you tell?" ask Padma. "That was Draco Malfoy," said Neville. "He was looking for Harry Potter, and since we are the last compartment in the last car on the train, he must not have found him." "How do you know he was looking for Harry?" asked Parvati. "Is Draco a friend of yours?" Neville laughed. "Hardly. The Malfoys have always been drawn to prestige and power, and no one in our class would be more prestigious, and maybe more powerful, than Harry Potter. But no one has heard from him in almost ten years, so no one knew for sure if he would be coming to Hogwarts." "The Longbottoms are pretty wealthy and prestigious," said Lavender with a sly smile. "Why wasn't he drawn to you?" "There is some bad blood between our families," answered Neville. "My father was the one who arrested his father for being a Death Eater after Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord." "Does that mean he is in Azkaban?" asked Hermione. "No, he claimed he was Imperiused into serving You-Know-Who and got off." Neville looked around to see if anyone was in the corridor who might hear them. "My father says he bribed people on the Wizengamot to declare him innocent." "I've read about the war against Voldemort in Modern Magical History," said Hermione, not noticing how Lavender and the Patil sisters flinched when she said the name. "But I don't understand what it was all about. What is so important about being a 'pureblood'?" "Nothing, really," said Parvati. "It's just a way to stir up popular support. Wizards are afraid of Muggles because there are so many more of them. Every new Muggleborn witch and wizard means more Muggles know about the wizarding world. They fear if too many Muggles know about us, the Muggles will try to wipe us out." "That's silly!" said Hermione. "My parents were thrilled to find out there is real magic in the world." "Yes, but not all Muggles are alike," replied Parvati. "Some hate the magic world." "There isn't any such thing as a real pureblood family anyway," said Neville. "Even the most extreme of the purebloods know that there are so few pureblood families that if, they marry only other purebloods, too many of their children will be Squibs. So every three or four generations they quietly marry a Muggleborn witch. For example, Draco's great-grandmother on his father's side was a Muggleborn." "Really?" said Lavender. "How do you know?" "Because Draco and I are third cousins. Great Grandma Malfoy never tried to hide her Muggleborn status, though her grandson sure does." "So, you say the Longbottoms are rich," said Hermione, batting her eyelashes. "Do you think this generation of Longbottoms might need an infusion of Muggleborn blood?" Neville stuck his nose up in the air. "That depends, Miss Granger, on what dowry the Muggleborn witch would bring into the marriage." Everybody laughed, and Hermione quietly congratulated herself on being brave enough to make such a joke. Maybe she would be sorted into Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw after all. * * * * * The Grangers awoke in their new master bedroom and enjoyed the sun-lit view of the Thames. After making a little breakfast from groceries they had purchased at a store on the second level, Dan felt restless. "I think we should go to our offices today. I know that Ministry official said we should wait a few days, but I feel settled in now." So they dressed in their work clothes and took the express elevator down to the ground level. Exiting the elevator, they walked to the doors and looked out, expecting to see a busy city street and, they hoped, an underground station. Instead, they were stunned to find that the doors exited on a large green space. In the distance, to the northwest, all they could see was another high-rise building just like their own. Turning to their left, they saw yet another high rise. "I could have sworn we could see the Thames River, city streets, and ordinary buildings from our balcony," said Dan. "Maybe if we go into the next building, we will be closer to a London city street," suggested Emma. "Why don't you stay here in case someone else shows up. You can ask directions, whilst I'll go see what's in the next building." The morning was cool, so Emma returned to their building. Watching through the glass doors from the lobby, she could see her husband dwindle in size as he approached the next building to the northwest. Just as he went into that building, she could hear a door opening behind her, so she turned hoping to ask someone directions to the nearest underground station. "Excuse me, can you tell me . . . Dan! How did you get here?" "What do you mean? How did you beat me here?" "I haven't moved. I saw you walk in that building, and here you are." "How can that be?" Emma turned pale. "Magic," she whispered. The elevator opened and one of the Ministry officials stepped out. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Is there anything I can do for you?" "Yes, you can damn well tell us how to get to the nearest underground station," said Dan. "We want to check up on our practice." "No problem," said the man. "We've moved all of your dentalist equipment to an office on the fifth floor." "But. . . our patients," cried Emma. "How will they be able to find us here?" "There are hundreds of Muggle families living in this building, and more are moving in every day. You are the only dentalists, so I am sure you will be able to find many people who will need your services." "But what about our friends? We'd like to visit them sometimes." "You'll make many new friends here." "Wait," said Dan. "Are you saying we aren't allowed to leave?" "Not at all, not at all. But for your own protection, and your daughter's safety, we would like you to stay here as much as possible. Let me show you your new dentalist office." * * * * * September 6, 1991 Dear Ginny, Hogwarts is great! I got sorted into Gryffindor, of course. I met three great guys on the Hogwarts train, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Ernie Macmillan. Seamus and Dean are also in Gryffindor and we are roommates, whilst Ernie got sorted into Hufflepuff. They all love Quidditch except Dean, who was Muggleborn and had never heard of it. But he says it sounds like a Muggle sport called futbol. I didn't ask if they make a ball out of a foot or it is shaped like a foot. I have another roommate named Neville Longbottom. He's pretty smart and I'm surprised he didn't get sorted into Ravenclaw. Sorry, there was no sign of Harry Potter. Some other people were looking for him too. On the train, this pale guy came by our compartment and just stared at everyone and then left. Ernie said he recognized him as someone named Draco whose father was a Death Eater. Of course, he was sorted into Slytherin. Later, Neville told me he was looking for Harry Potter. Neville knows he didn't find him because Neville was in the last compartment on the train. The best part about Hogwarts is the dining hall. You can eat as much as you want! Or at least as much as you have time for. The worst part is homework. Almost all of my teachers have already assigned essays. One who hasn't is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He's a strange guy. He has blond hair and some of the girls swoon over him, but he isn't teaching us anything, he just reads from his autobiography. Scabbers keeps getting lost. I try to keep him in his cage in my room, but someone keeps letting him out or something. One time Neville found me looking for him and he pulled out his wand and said, "achoo Scabbers" and after few moments Scabbers came flying into the room. That was so cool--I'll have to learn that spell. I can't wait for you to be here next year. We'll have lots of fun, especially if you are sorted into Gryffindor with the rest of us Weasleys. Sincerely, Ron * * * * * * Victor Crabbe proudly looked over his new home. It had a large living room, a beautiful formal dining room, several bedrooms, and a well-groomed yard. As a loyal friend to Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe received this home in exchange for his continued friendship and support to the Malfoys. The only thing Crabbe couldn't understand was why the previous owners had a concrete-lined pit in the backyard. Like many pureblood wizards, Crabbe had never learned to swim, believing such physical activity was beneath them. He would probably fill the pit with dirt and plant flowers and shrubs that attracted fairies. He so loved fairies. But first, he had to remove the name of the previous owners from the mailbox. "GRANGER"--what kind of name was that? * * * * * Harry's progress picked up when he left Surrey; the next county, Hampshire, was less urbanized and had more farms and forests. Still, he didn't want to be seen crossing a farmer's fields and now that school was in session, the only times he dared to be out on the roads was during the couple of hours of the day when children were going to or from school. With his book bag, he looked like another school child, but he never knew where the next forest was that he could hide in so he sometimes had to cut his journey short when a promising forest came in sight. He was also getting desperately hungry. The Dursleys had never made him go this long without eating. Whilst he had discovered that some leaves were edible along with berries, the number of berries available had started to decline with the coming of cooler weather. This particular morning, after walking through a small wooded area, Harry settled down to wait for school to let out so he could walk on a road. Sitting cross-legged in a small clearing in the woods wishing for a sausage, a slice of bacon, or one of the other foods he used to cook for the Dursleys for breakfast, he was startled to see a small rabbit hop into the clearing. Harry sat still, and the rabbit hopped over to his feet and chewed on a blade of grass. Harry slowly reached over and stroked the soft fur on the rabbit's head. "Er, can you talk?" Harry could talk to snakes; maybe he could talk to rabbits. But the rabbit just kept munching on the grass. Harry knew that meat came from animals; he had even roasted rabbit at the Dursleys from time to time. He had never killed an animal to eat it, but he had seen dead animals at the butcher's, some of them hanging from their hind legs with their throats slit. "I am sorry, rabbit, but I need to eat. If you let me eat you, I promise I will feed you in the next life." Harry didn't know if there was a next life, but he felt he had to offer something to pay for taking this rabbit's life. Still eating the grass, the rabbit turned its head and briefly looked Harry in the eye. Harry had once heard that the most painless way to kill something was to break its neck. He swallowed hard, picked up the rabbit, and put it in his lap. Holding the rabbit's body with his left hand, he took its head in his right hand and twisted as fast as he could. With a brief squeak, the rabbit stopped moving. He slit the rabbit's throat and propped it up on a rock, head down, so the blood could drain out. He didn't want to eat the meat raw, and he remembered that the first snake he met had told him that wizards could start fires. So he cleared a small area down to the dirt, stacked a little dry grass in the center, covered it with small twigs and other kindling, and gathered a little more dry wood. Then he concentrated on the grass, thinking he wanted a fire. To his elation, the grass ignited and soon the fire was spreading to the twigs. As the fire was growing, he took his pocketknife and skinned the rabbit, removing its intestines and other guts. Now it looked more like the rabbits he had roasted for the Dursleys. After washing the carcass and his hands in a nearby stream, he found a green stick and skewered the rabbit. He remembered roasting marshmallows over a fire when the Durleys still included him in such activities, so he knew to keep the marshmallow turning slowly over coals whilst avoiding direct flames. So he tried to do the same with the rabbit. It took at least an hour to thoroughly cook the meat, but by noon Harry had the best meal he had eaten in weeks. He ate about half the small rabbit and saved the rest of the meat in a small plastic bag that had once held a sandwich. * * * * * It was raining out, so Ginny didn't mind doing her homework in her bedroom this Sunday morning. If eggs sell two for a Knut, how many eggs would you have to sell to earn three Galleons? Let's see, 29 times 17 times 3 times 2. Ginny's quill scratched on the parchment as she worked through the arithmetic. "Ginny!" her mother yelled from the kitchen. "Yes, Mum," she said, bounding down the stairs, somewhat relieved to escape from the story problems. "We're having chicken for Sunday dinner this afternoon, and it's about time you learned where chickens come from." Ginny wrinkled her brow. She remembered her brothers Bill and Charlie looking very red faced after hearing something the twins called "the talk" from her father, which she vaguely understood to be about where babies come from. Was her mother about to give her the talk? "I know where chickens come from, Mum," she said. "They come from eggs." "Yes, well today you are going to learn how a chicken from one of those eggs ends up on our table." Her mother put on a very thick apron and led Ginny out into the yard towards the chicken coop. Ginny often gathered eggs from the chicken coop, and she knew they ate chickens for dinner. But she had never watched anyone kill a chicken before. Her mother studied the brood and, making a decision, grabbed a chicken, which immediately squawked. "If you hold them upside-down, they'll relax for a moment," she said. Her mum then held her wand next to the chicken's neck and muttered "Diffindo." Ginny's eyes bulged out when the chicken's head fell off. As the blood squirted out whilst the heart continued to pump a few more beats, Ginny was afraid for a moment that she was going to throw up. But she managed to keep her composure as her mother hung the chicken up by its feet. "We'll let the blood drain for a few minutes, then I'll want you to pluck all of the feathers off the chicken," said her mum. "Then I'll teach you to clean it." Her mum took off her apron, which was spattered with blood, and folded it up and turned to go back in the house. "Mum, why is it okay for us to eat chickens?" "Ginny, everything that we eat is, or was, alive, whether it was a chicken or a carrot or the grains of wheat in our bread. If we can't eat chickens, then we can't eat anything and we die." "Is it okay for us to kill Muggles?" Her mum stopped and stared at her with a strange look on her face. "No, Ginny," she said after a moment. "Muggles are people just like you and me. They are just missing some of our talents. We would no more kill Muggles than we would kill a wizard or witch simply because they were missing a finger or a toe." "How do we decide what we can kill and what we can't?" Her mother thought for a minute. "I guess I would base it on intelligence," she said. "If something is smart enough to think and talk and plan ahead, then we should befriend it, not kill it." "Does that include centaurs and goblins?" "Of course." "How about werewolves and vampires?" "Yes, I've known a few werewolves." "What about Manticores?" Molly thought for a moment. "Well, Manticores are certainly intelligent. But sometimes even intelligent beings are not very friendly. Sometimes you have to kill in self-defense. But that would be the only reason. Now, it's time for you to go out and pluck that chicken." * * * * * Although the days were shorter, the towns in Wiltshire were smaller, so Harry could walk a few more miles each day under cover of forest or woodland. The strangest thing happened this afternoon--at least, the strangest thing since a snake had told him he was a wizard. Harry was walking along the edge of a forest when he felt a strong urge to turn around and go home. He stopped and shook his head; there was no way he was going back to the Dursley's home. He took a few steps further when suddenly a large manor house appeared in a field on his right. He immediately ducked down lest someone see him. He was trying to decide whether it was unoccupied or if he should stay out of sight by going deeper into the forest when the largest snake he had ever seen slithered into his path. "Dobby!" Dobby popped into the master's office. "Yes, Master?" "Someone, or something, has crossed our wards in the southeast corner of the estate. Take Schlanger and find out who or what it is." "Y-yes, Master." Dobby was afraid of Schlanger, a large green snake who was big enough to swallow a house elf in one bite. Dobby didn't doubt he would do so if the master allowed it, but normally the master encouraged Schlanger to eat wild animals that entered the estate. Suppressing his fear, Dobby popped out of the house, opened up the snake's cage, and told it to find an intruder on the south part of the estate. The snake was bearing down on Harry when Harry spoke up: "Hello. My, you are the biggest snake I have ever seen!" The snake stopped short. Normally, the sight of him was enough to make intruders flee the estate. But this intruder not only seemed unafraid, he spoke snake tongue. Schlanger would have liked to converse at length, but he knew he had a job to do. "Greetings, young wizard. Who are you and why are you here?" "My name is Harry. I just found out I was a wizard a couple of months ago, and another snake told me there is a wizard who speaks snake tongue somewhere to the west. I've been looking for that wizard so I can start training as a wizard." "There are no wizards who speak snake tongue here," said Schlanger, neglecting to point out that there were several wizards who did not speak snake tongue in the manor house. "I have heard there is a snake-speaking wizard in Devon. You would do well to continue your journey there." "I will do so, kind snake," said Harry. "Thank you for your assistance." From a hiding spot behind a shrub, Dobby could hear Schlanger and the boy hiss at one another. Although he couldn't understand what they were saying, he saw the lightning-shaped scar underneath the boy's long hair and realized that this must be the great Harry Potter. When they were done hissing, Dobby was impressed at how brave Harry was to turn and simply walk away, unafraid that Schlanger would attack him from behind. Dobby and Schlanger returned to Schlanger's snake run next to the manor and then Dobby popped into the master's office to report. "Well, Dobby, was the intruder a person or an animal?" "I-it was an animal, master. Schlanger took care of it." "Good. It wouldn't do to have Aurors or other wizards sneaking around the estate." Malfoy turned to his desk in a silent dismissal of Dobby. Dobby would spend at least an hour that night ironing his fingers. * * * * * Neville took a bite of treacle tart at the Hallowe'en feast, but he didn't really enjoy it. He was angry at Ron for saying those mean things about Hermione, and now Hermione was missing the feast. The door to the Great Hall opened and Professor Kettleburn ran in. "There's a troll running loose in the dungeon," he yelled to the head table. "I'll need some help rounding it up." Some of the students started to panic, but Headmaster Flitwick cast a Sonorous spell and his squeaky voice filled the hall. "Prefects! Get your houses in order and escort them to your common rooms. Professors Snape, Vector, and Sprout, please help me and Professor Kettleburn with the troll." Gryffindor students started to file out behind Percy Weasley, but Neville took Lavender by the arm and said, "Where's Hermione?" "The last I saw, she was crying in the third-floor girl's bathroom." "Okay, you go with Percy. I'll go get her." Neville turned to Ron, who was behind him. "Ron, you're the one who upset Hermione. You're coming with me to find her before the troll does." When the other Gryffindors turned left, they turned right and ran to the nearest stairway. On reaching the third floor, they were momentarily stunned to see the troll enter the girl's bathroom. "I don't think the troll is in the dungeon anymore," said Ron. They heard a scream and chased into the bathroom to find Hermione cringing under a sink as the troll prepared to smash the porcelain. Ron stood paralyzed, but Neville pointed his wand at Hermione and yelled, "Accio Hermione." Hermione slowly began sliding over to them on the slick floor, but the troll turned and started to swing at Neville. "Ron!" yelled Hermione, "swish and flick!" Shaken out of his stupor, Ron aimed his wand at the troll's club and commanded, "Wingardium Leviosa." The troll swung his arm at Neville, but his hand was empty. He looked up at the club to see it fall on his nose. The troll fell over, narrowly missing Neville. The trio ran out of the bathroom but screeched to a halt when they saw professors Kettleburn and Snape. "Why are three Gryffindors running in the halls?" asked Snape. "T-t-t-troll," stuttered Ron. "What Ron's trying to say is that there is a troll in the bathroom," said Neville. "And what are two boys doing in the girl's bathroom?" asked Snape as Kettleburn peaked into the bathroom. "It's my fault, professor," said Hermione. "I saw the troll and thought I could capture it, but it was beyond me. Neville and Ron saved my life." "Twenty points from Gryffindor for being so foolish, Miss Granger," said Snape. "And ten points from Gryffindor each for foolishly running after her instead of finding a professor, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley. Dismissed!" After the three hurried off, Professor Kettleburn turned to Snape and said, "How do you suppose three first years managed to knock out a troll?" November 2, 1991 Dear Ginny, You'll never believe what happened this week! Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Animals teacher, had a troll in the castle dungeon to show to his classes. The troll escaped during the Hallowe'en feast and we were supposed to go to our common room. But one of the Gryffindor girls, a know-it-all named Hermione Granger, was in the bathroom, so Neville Longbottom and I went to find her only to find that the troll had found her first. Neville wasn't able to stop the troll, but I used magic to get control of the troll's club and hit him on the head with it, knocking him out! Now Hermione thinks I'm her hero and she's pestering me to study with her all the time. As if I would ever study as much as she does! Unfortunately, Professor Snape--he's the potion's professor who hates Gryffindors--took away house points from all three of us. That's the thanks we get for saving another student's life. Gryffindor played Quidditch against Slytherin today. Gryffindor was ahead, but Slytherin's seeker caught the snitch and won the game. Too bad Gryffindor doesn't have a better seeker. Don't tell Mum about the troll--she would probably send Headmaster Flitwick a Howler. Love, Ron |
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