Chapter 6: Second Hand News
Harry stood in front of the door to McGonagall's office, took a deep breath and knocked.
"Enter," Harry heard as the door opened.
At her parchment-covered desk sat McGonagall.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "How was your first week of classes?"
"Good ma'am," Harry said, an uneasy feeling in his gut. "I'm not in any trouble, am I?"
"No Mr. Potter. I wanted to ask you here because I have something for you. I was the godmother to your father. Because of the war, when you were born, your father wasn't sure if they would live to see you grow up. In the case he was not able to watch you grow, he… he wrote this letter and asked me to give it to you once you entered Hogwarts.
"I am sorry you didn't get to grow up with James and Lily. They were both exceptionally brilliant and were among my favorite students. James was particularly skilled at transfiguration. Your father also tried to change match into something other than a needle," She said to his hopeful eyes, drinking in stories of the parents he never knew. "He tried to make it into a fish hook and ended up making a hook big enough to replace someone's hand.
"I look forward to seeing you grow up. I have no doubt you will make your parents proud."
Harry took the letter from her hand, tears slowly crawling down his face as he realized he was looking at his dad's handwriting, the first real piece of his father that he ever held.
"Thank you, Professor. Do you know if my mother did something similar? It'd be nice to have something from both of my parents."
"I am not sure. It would not shock me but I am not aware of one. She was close to Professor Flitwick so maybe he would be a good one to ask."
"Thank you again, Professor."
"You are welcome, Mr. Potter. If you should ever need anything, my door is open."
Harry left the office clutching the letter like it was made of gold.
"What's this here? An ickle firstie, off wandering alone?"
Harry looked up to see Peeves, his first encounter with the poltergeist. In a worn-out overcoat and top hat, he looked like the Mad Hatter come alive.
"Now, don't be afraid, Peevsie won't bite… that hard," the Poltergeist laughed maniacally as he drifted closer to Harry. Harry tried to retreat but found his way blocked by a suit of armor.
"Easy up there, Peeves," Harry looked at the new voice, finding identical heads of flaming red hair.
"That's Harry Potter, that is-"
"Enemy to Dark Lords, he is." One twin started the sentence while the other finished.
"And also, if you harass him-"
"-We won't give you these," They held a box of prank items aloft.
"Okay, okay, I give!" Peeves held up his hands in surrender. "But this better be some good stu-Ooh Dungbombs! Later, boys!
Harry watched Peeves fly off before returning his attention to the twins.
"Close call, mate," one started
"That was almost," the other finished
"Disastrous," they chorused.
"I'm George," the left one introduced himself. "That's Fred. Saw you in a bit of trouble and thought we'd help.
"Doesn't help that we were here to deliver those items to Peeves anyway," Fred said.
"Thank you. I was not looking forward to dealing with him alone."
"Ah him," Fred said. "He's not so bad. Just have to learn to bribe him and suggest better uses for his time.
"Like harassing Filch-"
"-Or trapping Mrs. Norris-"
"-Or giving the dungeons a new paint job," they said in stereo.
"Oh, I almost forgot about that one. Dungeons were hot pink for days, Snape was furious. It was incredible," George's eyes glazed over in reverie.
"Well good to meet you two at last. I have to commend you on your prank on Ron with the Sorting Hat. Enjoyed that one tremendously."
"That wasn't anything," George said. "Not as good as the time we charmed Percy's quills to only write 'I'm a little teapot, short and stout' over and over again. He changed every quill until he figured out it was his ink."
"Remind me to never leave anything sitting around for you two to find," Harry said. "I'm heading back to the common room, are you coming with?"
"With this much time before curfew?" Fred looked to George.
"No thanks," came the stereo response.
"We prefer to do something useful with our time," George said.
"Alright but don't do anything too crazy. It is the first week and you need to pace yourselves. I'll see you back in the common room."
As Harry was finishing up his conversation with the twins, Hermione was finishing up her letter to her parents.
Dear Mother and Daddy,
The first week is over here and I'm having so much fun. Harry- the boy we helped onto the platform- sat with me the whole train ride and he actually called me his friend! Can you imagine? Once I was off the train, I met this giant of a man named Hagrid whom Harry said is just the friendliest. They took us to the castle in boats! I first saw the castle from the lake on which we were sailing, all lit up. It was like a fairytale come to life, I swear. I was sorted into Gryffindor along with Harry. Professor McGonagall, the one who first told us I was a witch, called us one by one and put a hat on us that talked inside my head and told me which house I belonged in. I ended up having a conversation with it, which it turns out is rather rare, for it to put me in Gryffindor.
After the sorting, food just magically appeared on our house tables. Don't worry, I didn't overindulge on sweets and made sure to brush extra well, like you always tell me to, Daddy. Following the feast, we were escorted up to our dormitories which are literally in a tower in the castle, guarded by a portrait of an opera singer they call "The Fat Lady." I'm rooming with three other girls though I have not had the opportunity to get to know them yet. Their names are Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and Fay Dunbar.
Classes are fun, for the most part. In Transfiguration, we turned matchsticks into sewing needles. In charms, we just learned a few spells: one to push objects away from us, and another to light wands. Defense could be interesting but we haven't done anything beyond theoretical discussion. History is taught by a ghost but he's boring. He drones on worse than the teacher from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Almost everyone naps during the class. We just had Astronomy, which isn't all that different from going to the planetarium but there's no light pollution up here so you can see so many more stars than in London. I just came from Potions. Professor Snape teaches it. He wears all black and has a cape that billows behind him when he walks. I keep expecting to see him hanging upside down in his office like an actual bat. He also seems to dislike Harry, which is odd, considering he never met him before today.
Speaking of Harry, he's actually Harry Potter, the Harry Potter same that is in all the modern history books. But he's not like I imagined. I figured he would be a stuck-up, entitled, arrogant boy but he's kind, caring and funny. He's got a great sarcastic sense of humor and doesn't appear to like bullies very much. He even stood up for me on the train! Though, I am worried about him. He said he was raised in the muggle world by his mother's sister and her husband but he doesn't say much about them or home in general. Every meal he treats like it is a feast and makes small comments about observing people to recognize when someone is angry. Something isn't right with his living situation. I don't want to invade his privacy but I worry all the same.
Overall, I love school and am very glad to have made friends with Harry. Next week we start learning to fly, which I am NOT excited for, but Harry seems to be looking forward to it. I'll wrap this up here and I'll try to ask the owl who delivers this to stick around for you to respond and hopefully they will listen.
Love,
Hermione
Hermione was putting the final touches on her letter when Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the common room.
"Good evening, Hermione," Harry said, joining her on the sofa, his eyes a little distant. Hermione noticed a letter clutched in his hand. "Did you finish your letter?"
"Yes, I was actually about to head to find the Owlery to get one of the school owls to deliver it," Hermione said as she rolled up her letter.
"Would you prefer to use Hedwig?" Harry offered. "She probably would love the work."
"You don't mind?" Hermione asked. "I'd also like her to stick around, in case my parents wanted to write a response if that's okay?"
"We could ask her but I don't think she would mind."
"Thank you, Harry. What did Professor McGonagall want?"
"She gave me this," Harry held up the letter. "Apparently she was my father's godmother. My dad wrote this letter when I was born; before they had to go into hiding. He… he was worried they wouldn't live to see me attend Hogwarts so he gave this letter to McGonagall for me to have when I started school."
Tears glistened in his eyes as he looked into her eyes. Hermione wrapped an arm around him, bringing him into a hug. For once, he didn't bristle at her touch and he leaned in.
"I'm not sure I want to read it. Wha-what if he would be disappointed in me?" Harry asked softly, his eyes downcast.
"Harry, I didn't know your parents and I just met you," Hermione started gently. Harry's green eyes met brown. "But I know they would very proud of who you are and excited for what you'll become. Would you like to read it alone or would you like me to read it with you, for support?"
"I think I could use the support," Harry said. "But not here. There are too many people here at the moment."
They exited the common room and found an abandoned classroom. Hands shaking, Harry broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter.
"My Son Harry,
As I am writing this, you are in your mom's arms, your first day home. I hope that 11 years from now, we can both read this together and have a laugh but just in case, know that your mother and I love you with all our being. When you were born, everything changed. Growing up, I took almost nothing seriously. Magic was easy for me and I didn't have to work at it. Friends came fast and easy. But I was a bit of a berk and, if I am being honest, a bully when I was younger. It took six years for someone to knock some sense into me and that someone was your mother.
Lily Evans was the smartest, fiercest, most impressive witch I have ever met, always the top of the class. She was also not someone to cross. More than once, she berated me when our pranks went too far. Around third year, I started to fancy her but I went about it the wrong way. I pursued her too hard and it only served to push her away. In sixth year, I deflated my head, stopped worrying about pranks and got serious. I didn't just want to be anyone; I wanted to be someone Lily would admire. It worked and we started dating and married right after Hogwarts.
I hope that, regardless of whatever happened to me, you and your mother are safe and healthy. If not, I am so sorry you didn't get a chance to know her. She was the best of humanity and the best of Mother Magic herself. Our time together has been nothing short of magical. Know that we are both very, very proud of you and we are with you wherever you go. You got my hair so maybe you also got my skills in Transfiguration or maybe even Quidditch. It really is the best game, if you can convince your mother to let you play. She's told Padfoot that she'll neuter him if he buys you a broom before you're one. You also have your mother's beautiful eyes so perhaps her talent in Charms or Potions. Or maybe you'll have skills in a different area.
Whatever you do, I know you'll be great. Work hard in school to become the best wizard you can be. Potter men have a penchant for attracting trouble and I want you to be ready for whatever comes. Make friends that will push you to make you stronger and find a woman (or man, if that's what you prefer,) who will keep you in line and with whom you can build a family. I know that whatever you do, you'll be great and no matter what, know that we will be proud of you.
I love you so much,
James Potter
Tears were rolling down Harry's cheeks as he finished reading. The only thing holding him up was Hermione sitting next to him.
"They really loved me," Harry said, his voice breaking. "Vernon and Petunia always just told me they were lazy drunks who never loved me; that I was the burden that drove them to drink harder. They said it was because of me they were driving drunk and got themselves killed."
Hermione's horrified gasps filled the room.
"How could they say that to you!?" She softened seeing his visceral reaction. "How do you feel, now that you know the truth about your parents and learn more about who they were?"
"Angry," Harry said, his eyes hard. "They lied to me about the two people who loved me enough to literally die for me."
"Well, now you know and you have written proof," Hermione as she held him tighter.
Hermione moved back, drew her wand and whispered "Impervious."
"Preservation charm. It will keep water and dust off the letter."
"Thank you, Hermione. Where'd you learn that?"
"It's one of the first spells I researched and learned before coming here," Hermione said with a touch of sadness. "I wanted to keep my books from getting dirty, in case they were thrown on the ground… or into water… or even some cases mud. I had a copy of Pride and Prejudice ruined that way. I also learned reparo, the one I used on your glasses, in case I needed to repair them."
Harry noticed her eyes starting to glisten. Remember how much it had helped him, He leaned over and hugged her tightly.
While Harry and Hermione were ensconced in the abandoned classroom, a sandy-haired boy was finishing his own letter in the common room.
Dear Gran,
First week of school has come and gone. Herbology is fine but I'm still struggling in the other subjects, especially Potions where I melted a cauldron. I am working hard to make you and dad proud of me.
I've been sorted into Gryffindor and I am dormmates with Harry Potter. He actually was the one who helped me find Trevor on the train. Something seems odd, however. He dresses in rags and knows nothing of his history or heritage. I mentioned on the train that mum was the best friend of the brightest witch of her year and he never picked up that I meant his mother. And then there are his eyes; he's always looking for exits and analyzing the faces of everyone like he's always deciding whether to run or fight. He tenses when anyone but Hermione Granger, a muggleborn- sorry she prefers First Generation Witch- first year, touches him. Aside from that, he is smart and learns well. He will certainly be a powerful wizard one day.
I will keep an eye on Heir Potter and, as always, endeavor to be a credit to House Longbottom.
Your Grandson,
Neville
Thursday dawned bright and clear. Harry bounced out of bed, excited for what the day held.
Flying lessons! I get to actually fly, to be free! Harry thought as he finished his morning routine.
"Somebody's happy," Hermione laughed as Harry flounced into the common room. "Let me guess; you just can't wait for Professor Binns to tell you about another goblin revolution?"
"We get to fly today, Hermione!"
"Oh right. I think you mentioned that once or twice… a minute… every day this week."
Laughing together, they both exited the portrait hole to make their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. On the way down, Harry brought her up to speed on some of the things he was learning from the wizarding culture book.
"… So you can't even declare a duel unless you state the exact reason with the time and place," Harry was finishing as they entered the hall. "The Wizarding World is apparently still living in Victorian times. They even still use betrothal contracts, though Neville said they are rare nowadays. It is mostly used in business dealings, to broker an alliance or something."
"So you're saying that the old families would- and in some cases still will- sell their daughters to make a business deal!?" Hermione was incensed. "How can they still do that?"
"Considering how blood status is almost an asset unto itself, this doesn't surprise me. Doesn't mean change is not happening or that we can't help it along. I'm sure that's why First-Generation witches and wizards are looked down upon. The purebloods are frightened of them. They come into the world, used to how things are in non-magical Britain, expecting the same thing to be true for the Wizarding World. If they haven't read up on culture, they don't know their ideals are an affront to everything that purebloods hold dear, despite the fact they'll soon be extinct if they continue on."
"What do you mean?"
"Well the purebloods consider themselves royalty and much like royalty, they want bloodlines to remain pure. Considering how few truly pureblood families there still are, the breeding pool is thinner which increases the probability of inbreeding. History has proven that level of inbreeding can lead to madness, birth defects and sometimes infertility.
"If purebloods keep going the way they are, that is the path they are, on but we can't tell them that."
"Why not?"
"You're one of the blood purists. I just told you that you need to start breeding with muggles or First Generation witches to keep your bloodline going. What would you do?" Harry took a bite of his breakfast as he looked at her.
"I'd breed with a muggleborn, whether they wanted to or not. I probably wouldn't stop at one. I'd have a score of them, claim the child as my own, reap the rewards and get rid of the mother."
"Exactly," Harry said. "If we are to espouse these ideals in the current culture, the response would not be kind. I personally think magic is magic. It isn't owned by any one person or any one race and trying to claim ownership of magic diminishes its beauty and value."
"That's surprisingly well-thought-out, Harry," Hermione said, impressed. "I think that's a cause I would happily join."
At this, Neville joined them at their breakfast table. He started spooning some eggs onto his plate.
"Good morning, Neville," Harry said.
"Mornin'," came Neville's gruff reply. "Could you pass the bacon?"
As if summoned by the word bacon, Hedwig flew into the hall and landed in front of Harry, a letter on her leg.
"Good morning, girl," Harry autonomically offered his familiar her favorite treat as he took the letter tied to her leg.
"Who wrote to you?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued. Harry rarely got mail.
"No idea," Harry said, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. He was keeping something from her, she was sure of it.
"No way!" Neville's shouts drew their attention. "Gran sent me a Rememberall!"
"What's a Rememberall?" Harry asked, glad for the distraction as he pocketed the letter.
"It's a small glass ball," he held it aloft. "It turns colors if you have forgotten something. I think this one actually used to be my dad's."
As Neville was talking, he pulled out the ball that promptly changed from clear to red.
"Only I can't remember what I've forgotten."
"Look down," Harry said, as Neville finally realized he had forgotten his Gryffindor tie.
"Guess I was groggier than I thought this morning," Neville said.
"Fascinating thing you've got there, squib," Came Harry's second least favorite voice, edged out narrowly by Snape.
Draco had seen Neville receive a package and decided then was the ideal time to come over. He snatched the orb from Neville's hands. Harry, nearing his wit's end with the blonde jerk, shot to his feet.
"Malfoy! How dare you take an heirloom from Heir Longbottom," Fire lit behind Harry's eyes. "Give. It. Back. Now!"
Harry finished the sentence in a low, cold voice that chilled the air around him.
"What's going on here?" McGonagall, well-practiced at spotting trouble before it could brew, arrived on the scene.
"I was just looking at it," Malfoy said as he stalked away.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall turned to the still-irate boy. "Calm yourself. You're dangerously close to letting your magic loose."
From there, the day flew by fast but at the same time, oh-so-slow. Harry couldn't pay attention in History, He found his eyes drawn to the only window in the room, wistfully wishing he was outside.
"Harry! You're not paying attention. I know you're excited for flying but this is important. You're not even taking notes," Hermione admonished him.
"I just can't focus. I'll just borrow your notes for today to study from."
"You will not!" Hermione's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. "Unless you are sick or injured, if you want notes, you will take them yourself."
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said, suitably cowed. "I'll do better the rest of the class, I promise."
After an excruciating hour, the class filed out of the room. Together the Gryffindors traipsed back to their dorms to deposit their bags before heading down onto the castle grounds for their lessons.
Stepping outside of the castle, Harry groaned as he saw a familiar blonde head of hair, clad in green, standing by a host of broomsticks. Draco sneered and Harry glared right back.
"Alright everyone," a gray-haired woman with yellow eyes called attention to the class. "My name is Madam Hooch and I will be your flying instructor. Now everyone, step up to a broom, extend your right hand and say 'up'."
Shouts of "Up" echoed throughout and Harry was shocked when the broom leapt into his hand. On either side of him, Neville and Hermione were still struggling.
Harry leaned into Hermione.
"Hermione, you sound afraid of it," Harry said.
"I am," Hermione said, primly. "I'm rather afraid of heights and prefer to keep my feet on the ground, thank you very much."
"It's still a good skill to learn so that if you have to fly a broomstick, you can do it under control," Harry said. "Just be confident and commanding. Say 'up'."
"Up!" Hermione shouted and the broom slowly ascended into her hand.
Neville was paying attention to what Harry said and, confident as he could be, said "Up!?"
The broom wasn't sure if Neville was asking or telling it what to do so it levitated halfway and Neville ended up bringing his hand down to meet it.
"Everyone have your brooms?" Madam Hooch then went around teaching people the proper way to grip the brooms. Harry chortled when she told Malfoy he had been doing it wrong for years.
"Okay now everyone mount your brooms," Madam Hooch commanded. "When I give the signal, gently kick off the ground.
Before she gave the signal, however, Neville pushed off the ground as hard as he could. Rising ten feet in a matter of seconds, Neville panicked and slipped from the broom and fell with a sickening crunch to the ground below.
Harry and Hermione ran to him as he writhed on the ground in pain.
"Broken wrist," Madam Hooch diagnosed. "I'll take Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. Everyone stays on the ground until I get back if you would like to continue here at Hogwarts."
Hooch levitated Neville and escorted him to get treatment.
"What a useless idiot," Draco laughed, leaning on his broom for support when he noticed something on the ground. "Oh look, he dropped his ball. Maybe if he had two, he wouldn't be such a worthless wizard."
"Shut your mouth, Draco," Parvati jumped to her housemate's defense.
"Thank you for finding his family heirloom, Mr. Malfoy," Harry stepped forward, his hand extended. "I'll see that it gets returned to him."
"You want it, Potter?" Malfoy smirked, mounting his broom and kicking off the ground. "Come and get it."
Blood pounding in his ears, Harry ran toward Malfoy, screaming "up!" as he went. The broom closest to him flew to his hand. Mounting it while on the run, Harry rose to meet Malfoy.
"Not bad for a half-blood, scarhead," Malfoy drawled. "You're such a good dog. Now… FETCH!"
Malfoy threw the ball as far as he could. Before he could turn to gloat, a burst of air nearly knocked him from his broom. Harry bolted after the ball with reckless abandon. He could still see the glass glimmering in the distance, getting bigger as he caught up to it.
Realizing he wasn't gaining quick enough, Harry flattened to the handle of the broom and willed it to go faster. The ground was coming up quickly and he knew if the ball hit the ground, it would shatter. Harry finally caught up to the ball as it was almost to the ground.
Rolling on his broom while extending his hand, Harry snatched the ball from the air, flipped rightside up again and kicked off the ground. Harry could feel the G's he was pulling as he rocketed toward the sky. Harry corkscrewed to head back toward the group, coming to stop near his classmates. The Gryffindors were clapping while Malfoy looked dumbfounded. Even a few Slytherins seemed impressed with his catch.
Sound returned to his ears as he heard his classmates cheering him on. That was … fun! Harry thought as he landed among his group of housemates.
"HARRY POTTER!" The adrenalin rush immediately wore off. "I have never… Such reckless… Never in my life."
Harry knew that when an adult lost the ability to form coherent sentences, trouble was on the horizon. He shoulders slumped and tried to become as small as he could.
"Follow me, please," she beckoned him forward.
"But Professor…" Ron started.
"Malfoy started it," Lavender added.
"He threw Neville's Rememberall," Hermione said. "It would have broken…"
"That's enough, children," McGonagall ended all protests. "I will handle it from here. On my heels, Potter."
Harry handed the Rememberall to Hermione and told her to get it back to Neville. She watched with sadness as he followed close behind the Deputy Headmistress, hoping her best friend wasn't just expelled. Harry trudged behind McGonagall, trying to ignore the laughter of Draco and his cronies behind him.
Am I going to be expelled? They can't be sending me back to Privet Drive, can they?
Harry had all manner of horrifying thoughts rolling through his mind as they stopped outside the classroom for Defense.
"Excuse me, Professor Quirrell," McGonagall interrupted his lesson. "May I borrow Wood for a moment?"
Do they use corporal punishment here? Vernon will be pleased. Harry thought as he hardened his eyes, ready for the beating that was to come. To his surprise, a lanky fifth-year student stepped into the hallway.
"Wood," McGonagall said, a rare smile gracing her features. "I have found you a Seeker!"
McGonagall gestured to Harry whose eyes retreated into his hairline. Whatever he was expecting, it was not this. McGonagall then went on to tell Wood the maneuver that Harry pulled off.
"Grabbed the ball right before it hit the ground. Most impressive bit of flying I've ever seen."
"Interesting," Wood put his hand to his mouth, deep in thought. "He's got the right build for a seeker. Maybe a little lean but he'll fill out with proper diet and training. Potter," Wood finally addressed him.
"You said this was your first time on a broom?" Harry nodded. "You might well be a natural. Doubt anyone else could have pulled that off, especially on the tinderboxes those brooms are."
He turned back toward McGonagall.
"He'll need a proper broom, though. Something fast, a Nimbus if possible or the new Cleansweep isn't bad."
"I'll talk to the headmaster about bending the rule for first years having brooms," McGonagall said. "We might have a shot at the Quidditch Cup this year or at least better than last year. I couldn't look Professor Snape in the eye for a week after last year."
"I know what you mean," Wood said. "I spent all summer devising a new training regimen. We have a new chaser line too, which should be helpful. Our newest one, Katie Bell, already works well with Angelina and Alicia is ready to be promoted from the reserves."
Harry moved his head between the two like he was watching the Championship at Wimbledon, trying to keep up with them. Eventually, they realized he was still there and broke out of their discussion.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall's stern demeanor was back in full force. "What you did was impulsive, reckless and dangerous. And if you are half that good on the pitch, I pity your rival seekers trying to beat you. I expect you to work hard both on the pitch and in the classroom. Players must keep an Exceeds Expectations average to keep their spot on the team. Work hard, or I might reconsider not punishing you. You are dismissed."
Harry walked back trying to avoid mental whiplash from the last 15 minutes.
Guess it's a good thing I loved flying. McGonagall isn't really giving me an option here.
Harry took a walk through the hallways to absorb everything that happened. As he walked back into the common room and was nearly blown back through it. At his entry, the house all cheered.
"Way to go, Harry," one of the twins, Fred he thought, said.
"Sticking it to the Snakes while sticking up for one of your own," the other finished.
"Thanks for grabbing my ball," Neville came up and said. "Gran would have been so upset at me for breaking it."
"No worries, Neville," Harry smiled at him. "I'm just glad you're okay. That fall looked rough."
After the furor died down, Harry made his way toward Hermione who was by herself, in their usual chair beside the fire.
"Oh Harry!" Hermione said. "I was so worried! First, you nearly died on that broom, then when McGonagall showed up, I was certain you were going to be expelled. Do you know just how dangerous that was?"
"I was so nervous they were going to send me back to Privet Drive," Harry shuddered at the thought. "But McGonagall took me to the Defense classroom and asked for Wood. I thought she meant a stick, you know, to punish me?"
"Hogwarts doesn't use corporal punishment anymore, Harry," Hermione lectured. "Hogwarts: A History says they used to but they abandoned that practice about 50 years ago."
"Anyway, Wood turns out to be a student, captain of the Qudditch team. What I'm going to tell you is Top Secret," Harry leaned in and lowered his voice. "I'm the new seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Youngest in a century I think McGonagall told Wood."
"Congratulations. Though if you do any more death-defying stunts like today, I will hurt you. You understand?"
"I'll try but no promises," Harry smirked at her. "I will need your help, however. Players are supposed to keep an Exceeds Expectations average. I'm good at practicals but my theory and essay writing could improve. I was hoping you could…"
"Of course, I'll help you keep up," Hermione smiled as she laid a hand on his arm. "I'll draw up a study schedule to work around your training."
"You're the best, Hermione." Hermione beamed at these words.
That night, Harry was the subject of two letters winding their way from Hogwarts
Hey family!
It's almost the end of the second week here and so much has happened.
I've been sorted into Gryffindor, like the rest of the family and guess what!? Harry Potter is in my house. I sleep in the same dorm as the Boy Who Lived! I tell you he's just like the books. Malfoy tried to tell me that Harry shook his hand, which is ridiculous. Can you imagine Harry actually touching a Snake?
He's really a nice guy, super brave and an incredible flyer. Draco tried to destroy Neville Longbottom's Rememberall today and Harry flew and caught it right before it hit the ground. He said it was his first time on a broom. Wonder what Dumbledore has him working on if he hasn't had the chance to fly yet?
School is fine and I'm trying to do my best to follow the steps of Bill and Charlie (tell them I say hi.) We have Potions with the Snakes but it's only once a week so that's not so bad.
Last, to Ginny. Hope you're safe and healthy. I can't wait to have you join us. I know you're super excited to meet Harry. I'm sure I can get him to visit over the summer. We play chess every Saturday so I'll be sure to invite him sometime around the spring.
Love,
Ron
Dear Father,
I have followed your orders, sir, and tried to get close to Harry Potter. I am disheartened to report that I was too late as he's already as soft as his father. He has made friends, and become the protector of, a mudblood named Hermione Granger: a bucktoothed, beaver, know-it-all of a girl. I tried to show him the path, to bring the Potter family back to its purest roots but he insisted I apologize to her. Can you imagine?
I do have one thing to report, however. I overheard him saying he lived with his muggle relatives until Hogwarts. Can you imagine? The heir to House Potter raised MUGGLE! I think I'd die. I don't know anything about them, he doesn't say much. He's mentioned a "Petunia" a few times, which I think might be his mother's sister?
Classes are fine, Professor Snape sends his regards and I am already working to bring Slytherin house under my leadership as you did while here. I endeavor to make you proud of me. I will let you know if I hear anything more regarding Potter.
Sincerely,
Draco
Lucius Malfoy sat in his study, rereading his son's letter. Raised by muggle relatives? His thoughts raced. That is interesting. Lucius finally had a lead, after 10 years. He grabbed his traveling cloak, money sack, threw some powder into the fireplace and disappeared on his next errand.
Chapter 7: You're My Best Friend/Monster Mash
The next morning, after Harry's harrowing adventure on the broomstick, Malfoy came storming up toward the Gryffindor table, surprised to see Harry surrounded by Gryffindors beyond his year.
"Well, Scarhead," Malfoy taunted. "Enjoying your last meal? I'm sure they kicked you out for that stunt."
"What? You mean saving a precious family heirloom from breaking?" Harry retorted. "You're so much braver on the ground, aren't you? Though I see Crabbe and Goyle aren't with you. Troubles in paradise?"
"You think you're so clever, don't you Potter?" Malfoy blustered. "You're just a half-blooded mongrel with a cut on his head. It's time a true pureblood showed you real power. I challenge you to a Wizard's Duel."
"Harry accepts!" Ron stood and shouted. "I'll be his second, who is yours."
"Harry does not accept," Harry looked at Ron before turning his attention back to Malfoy. "Heir Malfoy, under what circumstances do you file a grievance to duel?"
"Your existence is reason enough. Tonight, in the trophy room at midnight."
"That's not proper procedure and 'existing,'" Harry put air quotes around existing, "is not reason enough to declare a duel. We would have to have a referee to ensure both parties play by the rules. You set no terms and your grievance is insufficient. For those reasons, I see no reason to acquiesce your request."
"Acqui- whatever my request?" Malfoy was turning redder by the minute.
"Means no," Harry said to general laughter of the gathered Gryffindors.
Malfoy was outnumbered and had now lost the high ground. Everyone in the hall was watching the action with bated breath. Potter has outmaneuvered me.
"You'll get yours one day, Potter," he turned to stalk away when he slipped and landed, butt first, on the floor. Laughter echoed throughout the hall, even a few chuckles could be heard from the Slytherin table as a red-faced, whether from anger or embarrassment Harry did not know, thoroughly-disheveled Draco Malfoy retreated.
"Why didn't you fight him?" Ron asked.
"His reason was invalid and thus his challenge was meritless. Midnight? In the trophy room? That's got 'trap' written all over it," Harry said with as much nonchalance as he could muster. "By the way, nice job with the tripping jinx, Fred."
"Well we couldn't have you outshining us, Harry," Fred said, smirking. "Embarrassing Draco Malfoy in front of the whole school? A most clever prank these halls have rarely ever seen. And I'm George."
"No, you're Fred. George is always the defense guy, the planner, to make sure you don't get caught. You're the impulsive, creative one," Harry said to general astonishment. Not even McGonagall could identify the proper twin. "And all I did quote the stuff that he should have been raised knowing. It was his fault for assuming I would not know, an easy trap to set."
"Well done, Mr. Potter," an auburn-haired girl wearing Hufflepuff colors came up with her hand extended. "Susan Bones, Heiress to House Bones."
"Nice to meet you Miss Bones," Harry shook her hand. "Neville speaks highly of you and your friend, Miss Abbott. How may I help you?"
"Just wanted to introduce myself," Susan said. "My parents were rather close with yours and my auntie knew them as well."
"Well met, Miss Bones. Thank you for the kind introduction. If your guardians are agreeable to it, it would be nice to hear more about my parents."
"I'm not sure how well auntie knew them and my parents… well they were attacked a few weeks after yours. Auntie is my guardian now."
"I'm sorry for treading on bad memories. I would like to be friends if that is agreeable."
"Sure thing and feel free to call me Susan, by the way."
"Then you can call me Harry."
Susan walked away to rejoin her housemates, all of whom immediately to leaned in to interview her.
"Never a dull moment with you, is there, Potter?" Hermione elbowed him in the side.
"Apparently not," Harry shook his head. "Abandon all hope of a normal life, ye who enter mine."
Hermione laughed as they finished their meals.
The beginning of the next week, Harry received a long package delivered by four very tired-looking owls. Harry picked up the note.
DO NOT OPEN THIS AT THE TABLE
Enclosed is your new broomstick. This is a special case and Dumbledore has authorized this purchase for you. Train hard and remember what I said about grades.
Sincerely,
Professor McGonagall
Too excited to wonder about Dumbledore "authorizing" the purchase, Harry ran up to his dorm and unwrapped the parcel to see a brand new Nimbus Two Thousand, the same one he had seen on display in Diagon Alley, roll out onto his bed. Elated, he stowed the broom in his trunk before heading down to start his day.
On Saturday, Hermione awoke, normal as any other day but something felt different and she couldn't put her finger on it. Suddenly, it came to her: today was her birthday.
Usually, this would fill her with joy but today, it brought sadness. She was away from her parents, who had no way to contact her unless she wrote to them first, and nobody at school would know it was her birthday. Not even her best (only, she cringed inwardly) friend. Harry was great but she was hoping she would have made more friends by now.
Sighing audibly, she went about her morning routine like normal, with no reason to expect anything different. Arriving in the common room, she was shocked to find Harry down waiting for her.
"Good morning, Harry," she said as she cocked her head to the side. "You're never down before me, is everything okay?"
"What? Oh yeah I-I'm okay. Shall we head down to breakfast?" He stuttered out.
Oh this isn't like him at all. Either something happened or he's up to something.
"Sure let's go," Hermione said aloud.
They walked into the Great Hall and found their usual spots midway down the table, facing out toward the other tables. Before Hermione could reach to build her breakfast, Hedwig came in and landed in front of her.
"Good morning Hedwig. You're early this morning; I haven't even served myself yet.
Hedwig hooted and Hermione looked down to see she was holding a package.
"Is that for me?" Hermione asked. Another hoot.
Hermione freed Hedwig from her burden and opened the package. Inside was a locket necklace with a picture of Hermione on one side and her parents on the other. She opened the card that came with it.
Happy Birthday, Princess!
We weren't sure how we would send this to you until Harry contacted us. He wanted to know when your birthday was and when we told him it was September 19, he offered to send Hedwig to us for us to deliver this. Know that wherever you go, we will be with you. We love you and miss you but are excited and your letters are wonderful to read. Have a wonderful birthday and we will see you at Christmas.
Love, Dad
Opposite her dad's message, she saw her mother wrote something.
My Little Winter,
Happy Birthday! We were so overjoyed when Harry contacted us and allowed us to send something to you. It's painful to not be with you on your birthday but we are so proud of you and excited for the journey that you are just beginning to walk.
We love you so, so much,
Mum
Hermione turned to her best friend, tears in her eyes.
"You gave my parents a way to contact me!?" She pulled him into a rib-breaking hug. "I was so sad this morning when I realized they had no way to wish me happy birthday. Thank you! Thank you so much."
"That's not all," Harry said, pointing in front of her. "I wanted to do something myself."
In front of her sat a plate with a silver cover.
"You didn't," Hermione tentatively lifted the lid. Sat before her was a plate of Eggs Benedict with bacon and a fruit medley: her favorite breakfast.
"I asked your parents what your favorite breakfast is."
"How did you make this?"
"Fred and George apparently have a connection. If you want something to be done, ask them. They're really quite resourceful."
"Thank you," Hermione tilted her head toward Harry as she dug in. They finished their meal as normal and Harry invited her to walk on the grounds.
"The weather is still nice and we should take advantage of it while we can."
As they walked around the lake, Harry noted a nice copse of trees surrounding an open field of grass and guided her over to it.
"While we're here and have some privacy," He stared at his feet and pawed at the ground. "I wanted to give you this."
Deep within his robes came a package of his own.
"Harry…" Hermione whined a little. "You already let my parents use your owl to contact me and somehow got my favorite breakfast on my birthday. You didn't have to do anything."
"I wanted to. I've never had a friend to celebrate their birthday before and I wanted to make it special for you. Open it," he gestured.
Out of the paper came a new copy of Pride and Prejudice.
"You seemed really sad about losing this one, so I wanted to give you a new one. It has the impervious spell on it so it can't be ruined."
WHOMP! Harry was knocked over by a bushy-haired missile. Thank goodness I picked somewhere soft to give her this, he thought.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the best friend I could have ever asked for! I don't have the words."
"Hermione Granger? Not having the words to convey something? I think I crossed dimensions, I best be getting back?"
Hermione smacked him as she rose up off the ground, offering a hand to help Harry up.
"Thank you for making my day special."
"Well, you deserve it. You've been a good friend to me and I wanted to show my gratitude by making you feel special on your birthday."
"You've done well."
"Okay, it is your birthday," Harry turned his head as they were walking. "What do you want to do today?"
"Library!" Hermione responded at once. "I know we've caught up on our homework and all but I'd like to explore the space and maybe read ahead but I know you usually play chess with Ron on Saturdays, so I'll head there alone."
"Not today. I told him I couldn't do it today, so I'm all yours today. The library sounds like fun, actually. I'd like to start digging into defense since we're sticking to theory in class.
Hermione was shocked at Harry's reply. Nobody wants to spend their free time in the library. Even here, the library is only filled with students who use it only to complete their assignments.
After spending the day in the library, stopping only for dinner after they completely missed lunch, Harry and Hermione trudged back into the common room, tired but pleased.
"Thank you again, Harry," Hermione gave him another hug. "You're my best friend."
From there, time sped on and before Harry knew it, Halloween had arrived. With the help of Hermione's organized mind, Harry was ahead in all his classes, doing well in everything except Potions and keeping up with his Quidditch training. Harry broke out of his musings to hear Professor Flitwick review "Wingardium Leviosa," which he introduced in the previous class. Since Harry and Hermione had already shown an aptitude for the spell, Flitwick split them up to help the students who were still struggling. Harry was paired with Neville, Hermione with Ron.
"Remember class," Flitwick reminded the class. "The more magic you put into this spell, the more you can do with the object. You can move it harder, faster, further, stronger. Control your power and make the feather float."
"I just can't get this!" Neville was at his wit's end beside Harry. "I can feel my magic, I know the theory backward and forward and still I can't get this plucking feather to fly."
"Strange," Harry said. "I can feel your magic too, almost like a river that's been dammed. I would say just try to relax and…"
"No! No! No!" Hermione's exasperated voice cut through the rest of Harry's statement. "You're going to put somebody's eye out, waving your wand about like that. Just a swish and flick with the incantation Wingardium Leviosa. Make the Gar nice and long."
"Bloody hell! You do it then, if it's so easy," Ron spat, ignoring that Harry and Hermione both accomplished the spell the previous class.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Hermione's feather levitated off the desk and flew around.
"Windgardium Leviosa," Harry said as well.
Harry brought his feather into formation with hers and soon they were racing through the classroom.
"Excellent spellwork, you two!" Flitwick chirped. "10 points apiece to Gryffindor for creative use of a spell. She is right, Mr. Weasley. You're close to causing an accident if you don't focus."
As if waiting for that key phrase, Seamus managed to light his feather on fire.
When class ended, Harry hung back to speak with Flitwick.
"Professor Flitwick," Harry began, tentatively. "I think there's something wrong with Neville's wand. I can feel his magic but it's not being channeled properly like I feel with my own. Almost like there's a disconnect between him and his wand."
"I'll put some thought into this. Thank you, Mr. Potter," the diminutive professor dismissed him.
As Harry was exiting the classroom, he instantly knew something was wrong.
"She's a bloody nightmare, she is! 'it's Levi-O-Sah, not Levio-Saur' I swear she's just such a know-it-all."
Ron Weasley was holding court outside the classroom. Harry started to walk toward his best friend but couldn't get there before Mount Weasley erupted.
"It's no wonder she doesn't have any friends. I don't know how Potter can stand her! I'm sure he's just pretending so he can get better grades."
Hermione gasped and took a step back in shock. Her shoulders hunched and she marched through the congregated Gryffindors, speeding down the hall before Harry could catch her.
"Weasley!" Harry shouted. His housemates all turned to see an irate Harry Potter, his eyes glowing brighter as he marched up to the redheaded doofus. "How could you say that kind of thing? You know she heard you!"
"What!? It's true! She's an absolute nightmare!"
"She is a sweet, intelligent girl who just happens to be good at magic. She only seems like she knows everything because she studies, you ignominious prat! You barely make it through your classes, only study enough to scrape Acceptable at best. You're a good chess player but you can't see that your strategy will lead you nowhere once school is done? You talk about Quidditch but have you forgotten that you need an 'Exceeds' average to play for the school team? Do not disparage Hermione because you can't be bothered to put in the fucking effort!"
"And the rest of you!" Harry rounded on his other housemates. "Yes, I am the only friend to Hermione. Why is that? Have you tried to get to know her, to talk to her? She's not all books and cleverness you know! Would it be so fucking difficult to take some time and get to know her? Now if you all don't mind, I am going to find my friend and try to make up for the words of one ignorant jackass."
Harry stormed down the hallway, leaving a group of stunned first years in his wake. He searched Gryffindor tower first, dropping his heavy bag off to allow him to move faster. Up to the astronomy tower, down into the dungeons, he searched high and low but found no trace of his bushy-haired best friend. It was nearly time for the feast and he was back in the Charms corridor when the idea struck him: Portraits.
He moved to the end of the hall, down the stairs to where the hallway split into two directions: left or right. He spied a portrait of a young waif, looking out over her balcony.
"Excuse me," Harry called out. The lady turned in his direction. "I am looking for a friend. Could you possibly help me?"
"I could. I saw where she went but first I need something," the painting said. "I await my lover and it has been ages since he's been by. I desire a sonnet."
"Seriously?" Harry cried out.
"No sonnet, no information."
"Fine…." Harry tried to remember all the Shakespeare he knew.
"My love is a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease.
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
For they in thee a thousand errors see,
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who, in spite of view, are pleased to dote
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely, and more temperate" *
"That will do, young squire," She said. "She is down to the left, in the bathroom there."
Harry thanked her and ran flat-out to the door. Arriving and taking a moment to catch his breath, Harry knocked.
"Hermione? Are you in there?"
"Go away! I know you heard what Ron said. Just leave me alone."
"I did hear what Ron said," Harry slowly opened the door and entered the bathroom. "I've been trying to find you ever since."
"Why?" Hermione's strained voice came from the furthest stall. "Why would you care about finding a bushy-haired, bucktoothed, bookworm? Famous Boy-Who-Lived could have any friend he wants, he doesn't need me."
"The Boy-Who-Lived isn't looking for a bookworm," Harry said slowly, keeping his voice steady. "Harry is looking for his best friend and he would really like if she came out and talked to him."
After a minute of excruciating silence, the door latch popped, the door opened and Hermione stepped out. Her uniform was crumpled; her tie knot loose and her eyes were red.
"I'm sorry for what Ron said," Harry said. "He was way out of line, especially the last bit. You're my first friend, my best friend. Why would you think that I would only be using you?"
"It wouldn't be the first time," Hermione said, her voice whisper quiet. "Back in primary, there was this girl LuAnne. She and I lived on the same street but never talked. One day, she sits with me at lunch and tries to be friends. As a result of being friends, I helped her with her studies. It wasn't until a few weeks passed that I overheard she was 'using me for my brains,' as she put it. 'Bossy bookworm is so pathetic, she doesn't even realize I'm not even really her friend,' I overheard."
Hermione was openly crying now.
"I ran home that day and it took daddy two days to bring me back to myself. 'You're my special girl, my princess. One day, you'll meet a friend who deserves you,' he said. I thought I found that in you that day on the train. Ron's words just brought that all back."
Harry launched forward and wrapped her in a hug.
"You are my friend," Harry said. "Whatever happens, whatever comes, I'm with you to the end of the line."
Harry took a deep breath. Hermione needed something; proof that she was his friend.
"I had similar experiences. Dudley, my cousin, was my bully growing up," Harry started speaking. He feared if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to continue. "He and his gang had this game they would love to play. It's called Harry Hunting. They would chase me across the school grounds, sometimes beyond even. Sometimes I would escape, other times, I didn't get lucky. It took me teleporting to the roof of the schoolhouse to get away once. They had to call the fire department to get me down. Vernon was so pissed that night when he got back from work."
Harry shuddered, remembering that night vividly.
"Dudley didn't stop there. A few kids tried to befriend me. He beat them up too, making them stay away. Vernon and Petunia encouraged it, I think. 'Freaks don't deserve friends,' they told me."
Hermione was weeping again, this time for Harry.
"At the station, I was worried I had been strung along. I was so excited to have a new school, to be away from Number 4, Privet Drive. Thought I could learn uninhibited, meet some friends and have a real-life for once. When I couldn't find the platform, I thought I'd have to go back, that my dream was really just a fantasy; something to never come true."
Harry looked up into her eyes.
"Then this voice, this clear, angelic voice asks if I need help. She offers to help me find the platform, to help take me to school. At that moment I knew I finally had a friend.
"I am your friend, Hermione. Please don't leave me, Hermione. Please don't go where I can't follow. Neville is nice but I can't imagine this place without you. Hogwarts is amazing but it's you that makes it magical."
"Thank you, Harry; for being my friend, for coming to find me and for sharing that story. I know that must have been tough. I've seen the way you flinch at physical contact, the way you react to loud noises. I watch your eyes when you observe others when you're in a new area. I realized you always sit in the Great Hall with your back to the wall. You've had a hard life, I know. I am sorry for doubting your friendship."
"If Ron called me a freak and told me I didn't have friends, I'd probably relapse too," Harry said. "Just promise to talk to me next time, okay?"
Hermione nodded.
"Now you look tired and I'm famished. Let's see if we can catch the end of the feast."
Harry turned to head toward the door when it disintegrated, revealing a gargantuan mountain troll. Standing almost 4 meters (12 feet) tall, the troll stepped into the bathroom and roared as it advanced. Hermione screamed and pushed back to the far wall while Harry ran past the troll, sliding between its legs.
Looking back, he saw a petrified Hermione frozen on the wall. Without thought of recourse, he ran and climbed up the troll's back. Sensing Harry's motion, the troll twisted at the waist and Harry flew off, his body crashing into the wall near the stock-still Hermione.
Undeterred, running on pure adrenaline, Harry spotted the tree branch the troll was holding, noticing it looked a little like the matchstick in Transfiguration.
"Not sure if I can make this work," he said as he looked over his shoulder at his frozen best friend. "But I don't think I have any other options."
"Wingardium Leviosa," He swished and flicked. The club lifted into the air. Mustering as much of his magic as he could, keeping the wand movement as precise as possible, he incanted "Mutara Materia."
To his surprise, in place of the club, a large needle, big enough for Hagrid to use, levitated in the air.
"Wingardium Levi-Oh!" Harry's coup de grace was interrupted by the troll backhanding him into the sinks. The needle crashed to the ground as Harry collapsed. Angry that this insect took away his favorite weapon, the toll advanced toward the now unconscious Harry.
Seeing Harry in danger finally spurred Hermione into action. Noticing the needle Harry had transfigured lying on the floor, she knew what to do. She drew her wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she shouted. With as much magic as she could, she pushed the needle toward the troll.
The troll turned its head at the sound. The last thing the creature saw was the needle as it pierced through its eye and into the brain. With a gigantic thud, the troll dropped, unmoving onto the floor.
"Harry!" Hermione she shouted as she ran to him. Rolling him over, she repeated the same phrase over and over.
"Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay," Hermione said as she tried to wake him. At long last, he groaned and opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was Hermione, amber energy blazing behind her eyes.
"Anyone get the number of that bus?" He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Wait! The troll? What happened with the troll!?"
"Well, you see…" Hermione's explanation was interrupted.
"What in the blazes happened here?" Came the screech from McGonagall from what remained of the doorway. "Why are you not with the rest of your housemates?"
Harry looked over to see Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape inspecting the remnants of what used to be a girl's bathroom.
"I'm sorry, professor," Harry said as he tried to stand. Hermione kept a hold on him, pushing him back down. McGonagall took one look at Harry and sent a silver spell through the doorway.
"Ron said something that upset Hermione. I couldn't just let her be alone. Your house is your family, you told us. Family doesn't let family suffer alone. We were about to join the feast when the troll came in."
"But who killed the troll?" Snape asked derisively. "And where did they run off to?"
"Technically, I did, sir," Hermione said quietly. "I… didn't mean to kill it. I just wanted to pin it to the wall so it didn't hurt Harry."
"But where did you get the spear?" Flitwick asked.
"Harry did that actually," Hermione looked at her friend with pride. "He used Wingardium Leviosa to take the club from the troll's hand and then transfigured it into a… needle?"
Hermione finished her explanation and looked at Harry, asking for confirmation.
"I noticed the similarity of shape. Professor McGonagall said there was some flexibility in what you were transfiguring, so long as you thought through the composition of what you were transfiguring it into. I didn't know if I had enough power but I had to try. It was going to kill Hermione."
"So you're telling me," Filtwick asked, wide-eyed. "That you combined two different practices of magic into one to defend yourself from a creature that most trained wizards find difficulty with? As a first year?"
Harry nodded, looking sleepy.
"50 points to Gryffindor! What creativity!" Flitwick and McGonagall looked equally impressed. "20 points to you, Miss Granger, for helping a student in need. 5 points from you both for missing the feast."
"Potter!" Snape shouted. "Detention! For missing the feast and being arrogant enough to think you could take on a troll all by yourself! So much like your father you are."
"Indeed," McGonagall stopped the Snape rant before he built up enough steam. "Only James Potter would try to transfigure a tree branch into a metal needle to take on a creature."
"And only your mother would come to help another classmate because of they were upset by something another student had done. Right, Severus?" She turned to glare at the black-robed bat. "You won't be serving detention for helping a classmate."
As McGonagall finished, Madam Pomfrey entered, gazing wide-eyed at the destruction around her.
"I got your message, Minerva. What appears to be the iss…" her eyes fell on Harry. Drawing her wand, she started to cast detection spells.
"Broken pelvis, dislocated hip, separated shoulder and a broken arm," Pomfrey grew more incredulous as she read her scans. "Looks like a mild concussion too."
Pomfrey waved her wand, knitting the bones back together and allowed him to gingerly stand back up. Harry's hands were starting to shake as the adrenaline wore off.
"You'll need to take it easy for a few days. No strenuous activity. I also see signs of magical exhaustion. No spell casting for the rest of the week. I'll need to see you before classes on Monday before I clear you to cast magic again."
"Do they need to spend a night in the Wing?" McGonagall asked.
"They just require rest and they'll be able to do that better in their own beds," Pomfrey's eyes fluttered for a moment.
Pomfrey handed him a potion for pain, as well as a potion for dreamless sleep for the both of them.
"You'll want this for tonight. You have been through a traumatic experience and you both need a full night's sleep. If you are having any issues, don't hesitate to come to me in the Hospital Wing."
McGonagall saw Pomfrey out of the bathroom and turned to the two students.
"Both of you head back to your dormitories and grab something to eat. The feast is continuing up there. Please don't make a habit of this, Mr. Potter. I barely survived the antics of your father; I don't need you carrying on his legacy.
"I'll try but no promises," Harry smiled at her. "He told me Potters attract danger."
"On your way."
"And Mr. Potter? Miss Granger?" The duo turned at Flitwick's voice. "Come find me when you are healed. I would love to talk to you both."
Slowly, with the support of one another, they made their way toward their dormitory.
"Thank you for saving my life," they said in stereo. Laughing, they nodded to each other. When you take down a fully-grown mountain troll, there's not much else that needs to be said.
(A/N: I wanted this to be just the two of them to take on the troll and start building their natural teamwork. Ron certainly doesn't get to be the hero after what he said.
*If you're a Star Trek: The Next Generation fan, you might realize where the verses Harry recites comes from. )