Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten:

The usual disclaimers and acknowledgements still apply.

Summary: ... And on we go.

Scene: same as before, about thirty seconds later.

Filius: Do we have time for another chapter?

Pomona: Do we have time for a snack?

(She is digging into her bag, when Aaron Weasley, a sixth-year Prefect enters. He has a little of Percy's broomstick-up-his-butt stuffiness, as well as a little of Fred and George's casual arrogance. He surveys the group, looking at Alastor just a moment too long.)

Aaron: Miss Duncan, I'd like a word with you, please.

Minerva: "Miss Duncan"? And I haven't even done anything - that I know of. I'll be back in a moment, everyone. (She gets up and goes over to Aaron.)

Aaron: (Quiet, but fierce - and possibly not quite quiet enough) What is that Slytherin doing in here?

Minerva: (Giving him the Look that will one day make students quail) If you mean my friend, Alastor, he's here because I invited him.

Aaron: Did you let him hear the password?

Minerva: (bristling further) I know the rules, "Mr. Weasley". They all wait, at least ten paces down the hall. I whisper the password to the Fat Lady. Then, when she opens the entrance, I ask her to wait while my friends catch up and come in. It's a bit silly - my friends are all perfectly trustworthy.

Aaron: If he's so bloody "trustworthy," how did he end up in Slytherin? I don't mind so much about you bringing the others here, but...

(Behind them, Robert has noticed the argument getting intense. He gets up and comes to stand beside Minerva.)

Minerva: (practically spitting her fury) If you object to who I invite here...

Robert: (coolly, without taking his eyes off Aaron) That's "whom."

Minerva: ...I suggest you take it up with Professor Dippet! Or maybe with Alastor's Head of House!

(She turns her back on a thoroughly outraged Aaron, and stalks back to the rest of the group.)

Robert: (nodding, briefly, to Aaron) What she said.

(He follows Minerva back and rejoins the group. Aaron stares after them for a moment and then stalks away.)

Pomona: Well said, Minna! And you too, Robbie! For that, you shall have almonds! (She pulls a large bag of nuts out of her book bag) In fact, almonds all around!

(She opens the bag and they all start helping themselves.)

Alastor: That Weasley lad won't get far if he doesn't learn how to speak so he can't be heard from more than three feet away.

Xiomara: (through a mouthful of almonds) Probably taking the belief that snakes are deaf to an extreme degree. ^*1

Alastor: (pleased) Hah! You may have something, there, Xia! Now then: We've got rid of the twerp, we've got something to nosh - did I remember to say "Thanks," Mona? - The only question remaining is...

Filius: ...what's the catch and who's behind it?

Alastor: (looking down his nose - which, let's face it, isn't too hard in Filius' case) ...who's going to read?

Robert: Well, if Minna's had a chapter, then I think it's my turn again. (Minerva hands him the book.) All right, Chapter Ten: Halloween.

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day,

Minerva: Well they'd hardly pack two eleven-year-olds off in the middle of the night, even if they had been expelled!

looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were keen to have another one.

Pomona: Boys!

Minerva: I don't know. It does sound rather fun.

In the meantime, Harry filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

Filius: Literally heavy. How much does a Cerberus weigh?

Robert: I don't know, but if you'll put him on the scales, I'll read it out.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

Alastor: Of course both! Anything really valuable is dangerous to have around!

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Pomona: It's smaller than a breadbox...

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Pomona: I like Neville - he's got sense!

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus.

Minerva: Hmph! Boys!

All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

Robert: Hermione had ordered a book entitled, "How to Get Back At Malfoy, in Six Easy Lessons."

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor.

Pomona: I hope the owl got that bacon for a tip.

Robert: Especially since they tipped it off?

Others: (Groan.)

They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one.

Pomona: ... like the fly in your soup.

Robert/Minerva: Muggles make soup out of flies?!

Alastor: They're doing it again.

Pomona: I'll explain later.

Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Xiomara: a.m. or p.m.?

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

Xiomara: Neither have I!

Pomona: But as soon as they're invented, I'll bet you'll be one of the first!

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

Minerva: I bet he rattles the presents under the tree too.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face.

Xiomara: He knows the shape of a broomstick - he's brighter than I thought!

"You'll be in for it this time Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Minerva: A sweeping statement.

Xiomara: Boooo!

Robert: Right, Harry's trying to pull a fast one here, that's why he's carrying it up the stairs in plain sight!

Filius: Well, how do you hide a broomstick in a hurry?

Alastor: Where do you hide a broomstick in a hurry?

Pomona: Why is the broomstick in a hurry?

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy,

Robert: Ooooh! And you say my puns are bad!

but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Pomona: Oh, yes, they've collected an entire blue spruce and they're starting on an alder.

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

Robert: Oh, no, Professor. We're into open warfare now!

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

Minerva: See, there's the opening salvo.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?

Filius: Why do I get the feeling I enjoyed that? Er, am going to enjoy that? Whatever.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

Minerva: What? I'm offended! I got it for him! Er, if that teacher really is me, that is.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "if he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them.

Xiomara: No, I think that's a reward for being the best damn Seeker Professor McTabby ever saw in all her nine lives!

Minerva: Of course, I could be accused of favoritism, here. Er, if it is me.

Robert: What I want to know is, who paid for that broom! If you're that rich, Minna, I definitely hope it's you and that I'm the McGonagall...

Minerva: (blushing) Shut it, laddie!

Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

Robert: Levio nose!

Filius: Wingardium Levi-nose-a!

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating,

Alastor: Hasn't the boy learned anything? You start getting too preoccupied to pay attention to what you're ingesting, they could slip anything into your food or drink!

Pomona: I would never get that preoccupied!

and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

Xiomara: I want one!

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. He'd never been inside the stadium before.

Xiomara: That should be the first thing a student explores! Not some boring corridor with a three-headed dog! They don't play Quidditch! ^*2

Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Xiomara: What?

Pomona: It's sort of a toy. You take some wire and make a loop at one end, then you mix up some soapy water and... well, maybe next time I go home I can bring one back to show you. ^{* 3}

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling - he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his slightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Xiomara: Don't wanna!

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm.

Robert: As appropriate to his name!

Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

Xiomara: Wahoo! Harry, you lucky boy!

Minerva: I am so jealous!

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

Pomona: And, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all,

Bring me a big, red, India-rubber ball!

Minerva: Xiomara, Don't. Say. A. Word!

Xiomara: Word. So, there. (Sticks out tongue.)

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood.

Xiomara: Hence the phrase, "He can play with my Quaffle anytime!"

Pomona: Xia!

Xiomara: Thank you, thank you! I live for your reaction!

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

Alastor: Not if I don't know where you're going.

"Three Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So - that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

Robert: What's basketball?

Pomona: Exhausting!

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper - I'm Keeper for Gryffindor.

Robert: And don't you forget it!

Xiomara: He sounds like a "keeper" to me!

I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

Xiomara: Prude!

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this."

He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

Alastor: Right, what's a baseball bat?

Pomona: It's sort of like - well - like an extra-long Quidditch bat. (Sees the way he's looking at her.) Don't blame me. It's an American thing.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

Pomona: Oh, poor things!

Robert: Did she just say "poor things" about a couple of vicious Bludgers?

Minerva: I think she did, but I'm pretending not to notice.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose,

Alastor: A strategy he'd never dared try with Dudley.

and sent it zigzagging away into the air - it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely.

Pomona: Break time's over. Everyone back in your box!

Filius: (as a Bludger) Awww, do we have to?

Robert: (as the other Bludger) Psst! Don't start any trouble in front of the little chap. You know he's a Snitch!

Xiomara: Grooooaaaan!

"The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So - think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.

Alastor: And once again, the lad is good at assessing risks.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers - "

Alastor: Bit of an optimist, is he?

" - unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Minerva: We've noticed.

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

Xiomara: That's a Snitch all right. I'd know it anywhere!

"This," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much.

Alastor: Now he tells the poor lad!

A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages - I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.

"Well, that's it - any questions?"

Pomona: Besides "How do I get out of this?"

Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

Robert: I doubt it.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.

Pomona: Is Wood part Muggle? If not, where does he get the golf balls?

Filius: He does a lot of "golf" hunting? What does a "golf" look like anyway?

Pomona: (Giggling) Flit!

Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

Pomona: They could always make the balls glow in the dark.

Xiomara: Let it be known that I am biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood - and have been for the last three paragraphs!

Pomona: XIA! You know perfectly well that I was talking about Quidditch balls!

Filius: I still want to know something about this "golf" creature.

Minerva: I'll explain later, Flit. The "creature" is native to Scotland.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Minerva: Has anyone ever tried playing Quidditch on dragons instead of broomsticks?

(pause)

Alastor: Minna, it must be damn frightening inside your head!

*********

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

Filius: Why am I not surprised?

His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors.

Pomona: Maybe the boys and Hermione can patch things up over a nice plate of pumpkin pie. Er, who are all those people and why have they all suddenly started arguing with each other? ^{* 4}

Minerva: What people?

Filius: Are you all right, Mona?

Pomona: Sorry. I just got the oddest flash.

Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.

Pomona: Oh Flit, you didn't! Er, I mean won't! Er ... well, poor Trevor!

Xiomara: Maybe he enjoyed it.

Robert: Ha, ha, flies! You didn't expect me up here, did you! ^{* 5}

Minerva: Maybe he'll get a chance at that Muggle soup some time.

Pomona: Minna, we're going to have a long talk later on.

Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye).

Minerva: Poor Neville.

Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

Pomona: You know, some people would say the symbolism frightened her off.

Xiomara: Hey, that was my line!

Pomona: No, really. A lot of Freudian psychologists in the Muggle world... er, well, it's complicated. Remind me to explain later.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Pomona: (sings) Buffalo Gals, won't you come out tonight!

Minerva: Ah, you've been looking into the magical beasts of the colonies!

It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it - Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Pomona: If anyone was feeling faint, they've been cured. ^{* 6}

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "it's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Alastor: Oh, Merlin.

Filius: What"

Alastor: I just got an image of how Hermione will meet her end. Her last living words, spoken to a deadly enemy, will be "You're saying it wrong. It's A-va-da Ke-da-vra, make the middle syllables nice and long." ^{* 7}

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Filius: And Ron rose gently into the air.

Xiomara: I don't think she'll be having that affect on him for another year or two.

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Filius: I think I'm in love!

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of class.

Minerva: The male ego strikes again.

Robert: Hey, now, we're not all gits!

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

Pomona: The one where you suddenly realize you've come to class naked?

Alastor: The one where something's chasing you but you feel like you're running through jelly?

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face - and was startled to see that she was in tears.

Filius: Oh, the one where you've just said something cruel about someone and realize a moment too late that they were standing right behind you! That's a classic!

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Minerva: Which is exactly why your comment hurt so much, you red-headed rhino-hide!

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.

Minerva: I've always suspected most boys only have room for one thought as a time.

(All three boys throw almonds at Minerva while Pomona and Xiomara giggle.)

Xiomara: I know what that one thought is, too.

Pomona: Quidditch?

Xiomara: Riiiiight.

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.

Filius: Stutter? I didn't even know candles could talk!

The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Pomona: Two thousand live bats in the dining hall?

Xiomara: Let's hope they're housebroken!

Pomona: Not that guano is a bad thing, in its place. But its place is in my vegetable patch, not in my salad!

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."

Filius: Why? It's too late to send him an invitation to the feast.

Robert: What was Professor Quirrell doing in the dungeons during the feast?

Minerva: Oh, just trolling for anything interesting.

(Groans)

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

Pomona: Quick! Find Seamus and a feather!

(Xiomara is clearly biting her tongue, yet again.)

There was an uproar.

Robert: Funny how you never hear of a "downroar."

Minerva: Or an "upwhisper."

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.

Filius: What element is that?

Minerva: Probably Earth. It seems to suit him. ^*8

Xiomara: What about Air? He is a bit windy.

"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!"

All: We know.

"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.

Minerva: ... and could never get into Hogwarts, even in a Special Education Program!

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

Robert: Even we wouldn't go that far!

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

Xiomara: Are they implying that we're easier to confuse than the other houses?

"I've just thought - Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Robert: Something Hermione doesn't know about. Mark this date!

Alastor: If she really doesn't know. The thing got in somehow and it's all too easy to blame everything on the Poltergeist.

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Minerva: Why don't they just tell Percy?

Filius: They'd get Hermione in trouble.

Minerva: I don't see why. All she did - knowingly, at least - was to miss a feast. There's no rule against that!

Pomona: Maybe not a rule, but it's against all laws of nature!

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.

Alastor: Not much of an improvement.

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."

Alastor: Why, are you hiding something?

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.

Minerva: He's going to sic the Cerberus on the troll! Good thinking!

"Can you smell something?"

Robert: Sorry, it's the haggis again.

Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seemed to clean.

And then they heard it - a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet.

Pomona: It's Crabbe and Goyle! Run!

Ron pointed - at the end of a passage to the left, something huge 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.

Robert: Anyone for coconut shies?

It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

Minerva: That sounds fairly typical.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind,

Filius: I twiddle my thumbs.

Pomona: Yes, but your brain is bigger.

then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

Alastor: Why is there a lock on the outside of a restroom door?

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door and lock it.

"Yes!"

Alastor: Something's wrong. That was too easy.

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.

Xiomara: What could scare a troll that badly?

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.

Filius: It stopped to powder its nose?

"Hermione!" They said together.

Alastor: Hermione scared the troll? I knew there was something about that girl!

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and ran inside.

Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint.

Robert: Hermione sounds more like you all the time, Minna. She memorizes her textbooks, she gets attacked in the bathroom by trolls...

Minerva: It wasn't a troll, it was just Angelique Bulstrode.

Pomona: There's a difference?

Xiomara: And Minna didn't shrink against the wall or faint, either, as I recall. She got clobbered, but she went down fighting!

Minerva: For a while, I wasn't sure I was ever going to get up again!

The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the wall as it went.

Minerva: Come on, girl, tell it off!

Robert: It must be breaking some rules by being there!

Filius: Can it pronounce a spell correctly?

Xiomara: Can it pronounce anything correctly?

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

Pomona: Make it study Arithmancy!

Robert: What's confusing about that?

Pomona: Pheh! Ravenclaws!

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,

Minerva: ...and the troll turned around and said, "How did you know my name?"

and he threw a metal pipe at it.

Minerva: (sings) ... I hear the pipes a-calling....

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.

Minerva: Get hold of yourself, girl! Are you a Gryffindor or not?!

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk.

Xiomara: I thought berserk was a troll's natural state.

It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid:

Alastor: Hard to tell the difference sometimes.

He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Pomona: Well, that'll clear the sinuses!

Filius: Sounds like he remembered your advice about Draco, Robbie.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand - not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Filius: ...and Hermione floated up out of the troll's reach.

Pomona: ...and the troll floated up into the air where it couldn't hit anything.

Robert: ...and the troll's wretched, reeking trousers floated upward until they gave the troll a "wedgie".

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto it's owner's head.

Alastor: Aye, that could work.

The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Is it - dead?"

Alastor: Well, has its ghost risen yet?

Pomona: Can a troll become a ghost?

Minerva: Actually, there is a legend about a mountain haunted by the ghost of a long-dead troll.

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like a lumpy gray glue.

"Urgh - troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

Filius: That will only make it dirtier!

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up.

Pomona: Up? Footsteps on the ceiling?

They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, 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.

Xiomara: He must've had the haggis too.

Robert/Minerva: We were trying not to say it.

Filius: They're doing it again.

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.

Robert: I know that look!

Minerva: Oh shut up, Robbie.

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.

Pomona: Drills?

Xiomara: They just told us. He was thinking of winning fifty points for Gryffindor!

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?"

Filius: Because we can't be in two places at once?

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.

Alastor: House elf?

"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 -

Pomona: I thought maybe it would be my friend, since no one else would! I have it on good authority that I'm a nightmare and nobody can stand me.

Minerva: Ouch.

I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

Minerva: It's better than admitting she was in there crying! That's just humiliating!

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Minerva: Whether this woman is me or not, she's not fool enough to swallow that story!

Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well - in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Robert: Or maybe... she is?

(Minerva leans over and knocks her head on the table.)

Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

Alastor: Except when Hermione tells a lie, you don't have to palm it and have it analyzed.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall.

Minerva: For taking on a troll and not taking me with you!

Robert: She obviously knows something's fishy or she'd be taking a lot more points.

"I'm very disappointed in you.

Minerva: I'm disappointed I didn't get a chance to kick some troll!

If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Pomona: And Hermione hasn't eaten anything since lunch! She's really lucky the boys came! Imagine being killed by a troll on an empty stomach!

Alastor: Mona... you need to sort out your priorities!

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.

"Well, I still say you were very lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points.

Minerva: Only five? What wrong with me?!

Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled.

Minerva: I agree!

Robert: She probably doesn't want them to think taking risks like that is clever.

Alastor: Got an agenda of her own, I'll wager. Never trust a cat.

(Minerva hisses at him, then looks startled and embarrassed.)

"Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

Robert: True.

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

Robert: Also true.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig Snout,"

Pomona: Horse face!

Robert: Dragon breath!

Xiomara: Muggle brain!

All: (As if that one really hurt) Ooohh!

Pomona: Hey!

Alastor: They really should change the password more often.

they said and entered.

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.

Pomona: Now they can have that pumpkin pie - who are all you people???

There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

Robert: And so ends Chapter Ten.

Minerva: I hate to say it, but two chapters are about as much of a break as we can justify.

(Some grumbles as they all pick up their textbooks again.)

Pomona: Say, let's all study in Hufflepuff's Common Room tomorrow.

Xiomara: The portal guardian might make a fuss, but so far, none of our Prefects have objected.

Alastor: Biding their time, I shouldn't wonder.

Pomona: (giggles) Al! We're Hufflepuffs! We're not that sneaky!

Alastor: (ominously) That's what you'd like us to believe!

Xiomara: A Slytherin thinks Hufflepuffs are sneaky!

Pomona: Al, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said about our House!

(General laughter as the scene ends.)

^{* 1} There seems to be some argument about this, but "snakes rely on vibrations, rather than hearing" appears to be the most common theory.

^{* 2} Then again, we could have the makings of the next great family movie, here - "Harry Potter Meets Air Bud."

^{* 3} According to Dark Beta (who's amazingly well-read and would know about these things) in the Nineteen Thirties, you wouldn't go out and buy a bubble-blowing set at a toy store. You'd make it yourself at home. I'd never have thought of that, if she hadn't pointed it out!

^{* 4} If you don't get it, remember that "HMS Pumpkin Pie" is the official "ship" name for those poor deluded souls who still insist, in the face of all the evidence, that Harry and Hermione are meant to end up together. Arguments frequently break out about this. Pomona seems to be getting flashes that might qualify her to train as a seer if she weren't so focused on Herbology.

^{* 5} Nobody expects the Toadish Inquisition!

^{* 6} For anyone who doesn't know, burning feathers under someone's nose used to be a standard means of reviving them from a faint ("Wonky" or otherwise.)

^{* 7} I can't take the credit for this one. It was created by angelic*devil and posted on Fiction Alley, in the "Famous Last Words" thread. Plagiarism? Who, me?

^{* 8} The "Four Elements" were Earth, Air, Fire and Water and were supposed to have a direct bearing on both a person's physical health and their character.