They say that time only passes quickly in two ways, when you're happy or busy; if that is indeed the case, then it would explain how time seemed to speed by during Harry's first month at Hogwarts.
Despite Ron's continued protests (and even some of his family, for that matter), Harry had managed a tentative friendship with Draco Malfoy and Draco's hangers-on, Crabbe and Goyle.
Much to Harry's aggravation, his fame rose even further during his first flying lesson; Neville Longbottom's broom had decided to take off like a bottle rocket when the boy first sat down on it. Madam Hooch, to her credit, had attempted to save Neville as the broom soared straight up into the air before beginning a series of loops and rolls while poor Neville held on for dear life; when Madam Hooch had accidentally hit the broom with a charm designed to make it lower to the ground, the broom had instead gone from incredible speed to stock still in an instant, throwing Neville over the front of the broom and the poor boy had issued a shriek of terror as he hurtled toward the ground.
Harry, realizing that Madam Hooch had frozen in terror at the sight of Neville falling so quickly toward the ground, had immediately jumped on his broom and shot up into the air as though he was born with a broomstick under him. In a matter of seconds, Harry had reached Neville but missed when he tried to catch the boy's robe as Neville fell past him.
Gritting his teeth angrily, Harry pointed his broom toward the ground and pushed the old broom as hard as it could go, barely managing to catch Neville moments before the two crashed would have crashed into the ground, pulling Neville onto his broom. Harry then pulled out of his suicidal dive and leveled them off as around them, children roared cheerfully at the show of skill and that Neville had been unharmed from his fall.
Madam Hooch had been apoplectic with rage when Harry and Neville had landed and had gone on a long tirade at the two of them on how they could have both broken their necks and how she would see to it that neither of them ever rode a broom again for such a stupid stunt. Harry had been spared further words when Professor McGonagall appeared, having seen the whole thing.
At first, Harry had thought she, like Madam Hooch, would release a plethora of invective upon him and Neville; however, that fear soon turned to shock when McGonagall took Harry to see a teenager named Oliver Wood and told Harry that he would be playing for Gryffindor as Seeker instead of punishment as McGonagall had "Never seen such skill from a first-year before."
Word spread quickly, despite Wood's attempts to keep Harry a secret, and Harry's fame grew as he became "The youngest seeker in a century," Harry remembered groaning with annoyance at the new title as all it meant to him was more people fawning over him and getting in his way as he tried to navigate his way to class.
Since then, Harry had spent three days a week for the past month practicing with the Gryffindor house team; his older brothers, Fred and George, had invented a game that Harry hated with every fiber of his being, whereupon they would pelt bludgers at Harry in order to keep their little brother's reflexes sharp and his eyes focused on what was going on around him; this had lasted for only two weeks before Ron told Molly about it and the twins had received a howler to knock it off; both had sword revenge on Ron and Harry and the pair were stuck waiting for when the twins would eventually fulfill their oath.
XXXX
The morning began like any other; Harry was enjoying his breakfast at the Gryffindor house table when Draco Malfoy sauntered over, much to the annoyance of Ron. For several weeks, Draco and Harry had been debating with each other over muggles and muggle-borns.
Draco maintained that Purebloods were better, and Harry tried to show him that he was wrong by showing Draco evidence to the contrary; sometimes, members of other houses would join in on these debates, including a few from Slytherin; the most notable being a pretty blonde girl named Daphne Greengrass who rarely spoke, but when she did, it was always to the benefit of the debate. By opening the discussions to any who wished to listen and add to it, Harry had become surprised when students from almost every house had come to Gryffindor's table at least once to listen in and sometimes give their own viewpoint. Best of all, though, was that Harry began to see doubt in Malfoy's eyes when they would talk; it seemed that after so long, Draco was starting to question whether the Purebloods ideology was, in fact, correct, though Harry knew that the Malfoy scion would never dare to utter such blasphemy out loud, lest he be ostracized by his housemates and family.
"We've been over this before, Draco!" Harry exasperated, "Just because we have magic does not make us better than Muggles!"
"And just how do you suppose that?" Draco asked haughtily, "Muggles are completely powerless against us! We possess powers they could never even dream of!"
Harry sighed wearily as he reached for another slice of bacon, placing it onto his plate before turning back to Draco and responding,
"And Muggles have weapons that WE can never imagine, weapons that they could and WOULD use against us if we started a war with them."
"Such as?" Draco asked curiously,
"Such as the Atomic bomb," Harry said simply.
"The what?" Draco asked, bemused,
"It was a weapon used at the end of World War Two," Hermione answered as she looked up from her book, "It was used to obliterate two cities in Japan; Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and even years later, there were people who suffered debilitating diseases and injuries from the aftereffects of it."
Draco paled at the words, so shocked that he even forgot to sneer at Hermione as he usually did when she gave a correct answer or explained something,
"And that was over forty years ago," Harry added, "The weapons they have now make those look like firecrackers…."
Around them, many other students who had been listening grew pale at the thought that the Muggles might actually be able to defeat the Wizarding World if it came down to an actual war; Daphne Greengrass looked as white as a sheet at the implications; next to her, her friend Tracy Davis looked just as pale.
"And that's not counting the innumerable number of smaller weapons that Muggles have," Hermione said quickly, "In America, it's a common saying that behind every tree is a gun."
"What's a gun?" Daphne asked curiously,
"It's sort of like a metal wand that Muggles carry which fires a small piece of lead at great speed; it would be nigh impossible for a witch or wizard to put up a shield before they were struck and injured or killed."
The table went quiet as the words resounded amongst those present; Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl, was the first to regain her composure and sneered at Hermione,
"What a load of blarney! There's no way that is true! You're just making things up to scare us and make it seem as though Muggles are anything less than what they are!"
"And what would that be?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow,
"They are dirt beneath our shoes," Pansy sniffed, "We are beings of magic, power! And Purebloods are the best of our kind."
Murmurs of approval echoed from the few Slytherin seated at the Gryffindor table as Pansy nodded, looking pleased with herself.
"Is that right?" Harry asked shrewdly, making Draco narrow his eyes slightly as he knew Harry was about to stir up trouble.
"You believe that the mere act of being born Pureblood guarantees that one is better than their peers?" Harry asked, frowning as Pansy quickly nodded her head in agreement,
"Then perhaps you would like to explain how Hermione is the best in our year, despite being a Muggleborn. Both her parents are Muggles, and yet her grades far surpass any of those from Pureblood families."
Hermione turned pink and ducked behind her book as the Slytherin students turned their attention to her,
"There are always exceptions," Pansy sniffed, "However, no matter how hard she may try, the mudblood will never be equal to a Pureblood."
Silence rang out across the table for a moment before one of the Gryffindor upperclassmen slowly rose from her seat and whispered in an angry voice,
"I think it would be best if you return to your own house's table before some brave Gryffindor decides to make you regret those words."
Pansy gulped nervously and quickly made her way across the hall back to her own table, followed momentarily by the rest of her house; Daphne and Tracy both mumbled words of apology as they made their exit and rejoined their own table. Draco was the last to leave and turned to Harry before he did.
"I apologize for Pansy's cruel words, Harry. But I hope you won't end these debates because of them. I find I rather enjoy them of late."
"Of course, Draco," Harry said with a smile, "You're my friend after all; as long as YOU never say those kinds of words to my friends or me, we will remain on good terms."
Draco nodded his head gratefully and made his way over to the Slytherin table as grumbles began to break out over Pansy's words.
"I don't know why you choose to spend time with that snake," Ron sneered, "He's not worth it."
"Why not?" Harry asked, turning to his brother,
"Because his father is a Death Eater!" Ron cried, as though the answer was obvious, "And he's a Malfoy! Bad blood will out, always!"
"You don't know that Ron," Harry replied wearily; the two of them had had this talk before, yet Ron still didn't seem to understand, "Draco is NOT his father, any more than I am mine. He could be the first decent Malfoy in his family. Isn't trying to help make that a reality worth the effort?"
Ron grumbled something unintelligible and returned to his food as Dora beamed at her little brother before reaching over and gently ruffling his hair, much to Harry's annoyance.
"You're a good kid, Harry," Dora chirped, "Anyone else would have just told Draco to piss off, but you're actively trying to show him that some of his ideas about our world are wrong; I'm proud of you, little brother."
Harry smiled shyly at his adopted sister, giggling as she threw him a wink before heading back to her own table and leaving Harry to his breakfast.
XXXX
A few weeks later, Harry scowled at his brother Ron; a moment ago, Ron had made fun of Hermione, and the poor girl had heard Ron, dashing past them with tears in her eyes, while Ron looked suitably abashed; a moment later Ron was glaring at Harry as he rubbed his arm where Harry had just punched him.
"What did you do that for?!" Ron demanded angrily,
"Because you're a git, you know that!" Harry retorted angrily, "Why would you say such mean things about her, like that?!"
"She's a bossy know-it-all!" Ron countered, still rubbing his arm,
"She was just trying to help!" Harry growled, "Or maybe you didn't notice that you were saying the incantation wrong, which you would have known if you ever bothered to open a book and study!"
Ron said nothing, just cast his eyes towards the ground and glared impudently as they made their way to their next class.
Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later, they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.
A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.
Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."
He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.
There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.
"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Percy was in his element.
"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way; first years coming through! Excuse me; I'm a prefect!"
"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.
"Don't ask me; they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."
They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm as they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs.
"I've just thought - Hermione."
"What about her?"
"She doesn't know about the troll."
Ron bit his lip.
"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."
Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.
"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin.
Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.
"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"
"Search me."
Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.
"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.
"Can you smell something?"
Harry sniffed, and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.
And then they heard it - a low grunting and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed - at the end of a passage to the left, something immense was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a massive wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.
The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.
"The keys in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."
"Good idea," said Ron nervously.
They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. Then, with one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.
"Yes!"
Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner, they heard something that made their hearts stop - a high, petrified scream - and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.
"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.
"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.
"Hermione!" they said together.
Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open, and they ran inside.
Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.
"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.
The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.
"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, throwing a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.
"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move; she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.
The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Harry snarled as he threw a loose brick at the troll, who snarled as the rock struck its head and turned to face Harry, who suddenly felt very foolish; as the troll slowly began to stalk towards Harry and Hermione, memories suddenly began to bombard Harry of when he had been small and unable to defend himself against his Uncle Vernon.
As the fear began to grow in Harry and he tried to shield Hermione behind him, the troll seemed to change until it looked like Vernon to Harry; involuntarily, Harry let out a whimper as the troll opened its mouth to roar, but instead, Uncle Vernon's voice came out of its mouth,
"FREAK! DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE ME?!"
"No…." Harry said softly, taking a step back, "No, stay away. STAY AWAY!"
Reacting blindly, Harry raised his wand and stared in shock as a burst of red blasted out of the end and struck the troll full in the face, obliterating it in a shower of blood and gore.
The troll stood for a moment, swaying in place before falling to the ground with an earth-shattering crash that sent the three children sprawling to their knees as the ground beneath them seemed to move.
"Harry…..how did you?" Ron began before a sudden slamming, and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what racket they had been making, but someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.
Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.
Then a small voice came out of the shadows.
"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.
"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know because I've read all about them."
"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."
"And how do you explain the fact that it is currently missing its head?" Snape drawled as he looked down at the mess that used to be the troll.
"That was me, Professor," Harry replied meekly, "I don't know how it happened, I aimed my wand at it, and its head exploded…."
"Snape looked at Harry as though he could not believe what he was hearing, while McGonagall was staring in shock,
"You…..blew its head off….?" McGonagall asked softly, all color fading from her face,
"I didn't mean to, Professor! Honest!" Harry cried,
"Well - in that case... " said Professor McGonagall, desperately trying to regain her composure as she stared at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"
Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and she was pretending she had to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.
"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. But, if you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."
Hermione left.
Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.
"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. So you each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."
They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak until they climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.
"Harry, how did you do that?!" Ron asked once they were a safe distance from the Professors hearing,
"I don't know!" Harry responded, "I saw…."
"Saw what?" Ron inquired,
"I saw Uncle Vernon…. He was going to hurt me again, and I just reacted!" Harry cried, desperate to make Ron understand that it had been an accident.
"Mate, that thing was going to kill us," Ron said softly as he wrapped an arm around Harry, "If you hadn't stopped it, it would have."
"But…. but I killed it!" Harry said in a horrified whisper,
"And saved us as a result," Ron said simply, "You saved our lives. Think about that instead."
Harry was silent for a moment before nodding his head gratefully at his brother, who clapped Harry cheerfully on the back a minute later as the two approached the portrait of the fat lady and said the password to enter.
The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause.
"I'm sorry I made fun of you," Ron said softly, "It's just… I'm really envious of you, actually,"
"You're envious of me?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed as Ron nodded,
"I have trouble reading, the words just look strange to me, so it's hard for me to read and study."
Hermione's eyes seemed to grow even bigger as she seemed to realize something,
"You're dyslexic," she said simply.
"I'm what?" Ron asked, bemused,
"Dyslexic," Hermione repeated, "It means words don't come out right for you; I can help if you'd like."
Ron looked at Hermione, nonplussed for a moment, while Harry watched with a smile,
"You can help me make the words easier to read?" Ron asked in a broken voice,
"It would be my pleasure," Hermione said with a smile.
Nothing more was said after that as the three went and got themselves some food; Harry was happy he had gained another friend and even more delighted that said friend had offered to help Ron get better grades; all in all, it was a good Halloween.