It was the third weekend of October and winter was approaching with a vengeance. The winds had come in, bringing the rain with them. Harry was out on the Quidditch pitch running drills with the rest of the team. Wood had already had them out there for three hours, meaning that the Gryffindor Seeker was soaked to the bone and frozen to his broom. He loved flying but right now he just wanted to go back to the common room and collapse next to the fire. Maybe Hermione would be willing to cuddle up to him to warm him up.
But returning to the castle soon would be out of the question, as next weekend was Halloween and the week after that was half term. While in Muggle schools half-term was a week at home, at Hogwarts it was more of an events week; there would be no classes but there would be two Quidditch matches and many of the school's clubs would host an event, such as the Gobstones and Chess clubs both holding a tournament over the break. With Halloween next weekend this was probably the last full day of training before their first game of the year, and Wood was gonna make sure that they used it to the fullest.
There was a blast of a whistle, then Harry heard Wood calling out, barely louder than the wind, "Huddle up everyone!" He flew over to hit captain along with the rest of the team, before he continued, "Right, you lot did well on the drills, considering the poor visibility. Harry, you seemed to be having problems though, what's the issue?"
"It's my glasses," Harry replied, taking off his pair and wiping them with his soaking sleeve, "The rain keeps fogging them up."
Wood sighed, "There's a good chance we will be playing Hufflepuff in conditions like this, so see if you can find a solution. Maybe you could ask McGonagall?" Harry nodded, but he'd been thinking of another person. Hermione would probably have a solution for this, she just knew so many spells.
The team had been surprised at the start of practice to hear that their match had been changed from Slytherin to Hufflepuff. Not wanting to play in the bad weather, Slytherin had pulled out, using Malfoy's fake injury as an excuse. And as another team needed to pull out for later as well, Ravenclaw had jumped at the opportunity to skip the bad weather.
When Wood had tried to drop out, as they where the team booked to play Slytherin, the Ravenclaw team had argued that their match would be more entertaining if they had more time to train their new Seeker. Madam Hooch had responded that the argument that their match would be more fun to watch with their Seeker trained up more was a fair one, and had sided with the Ravenclaw captain over Gryffindor.
"Ok, we're gonna run through some three-on-three matches for an hour, before calling it a day. Potter, Weasley and Johnson, you are one team. Bell, the other Weasley and Spinnet are on the other," Wood called out over the roaring wind.
"Which Weasley?" The twins called out in unison.
Alicia snorted, "Like it matters," causing a giggle from her fellow chasers;
"Oh, it definitely matters", Angelina and Katie replied at the same time, trying to imitate Fred and George's twin speak before they broke into further giggles.
An hour later, Harry was sitting in the male half of the Gryffindor changing room, trying to get a bit of warmth into his legs. He had flown into the changing room and had collapsed on one of the benches, along with all of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. While he was waiting for the blood to return to his legs, he silently debated just walking into the shower fully clothed; it wasn't as if his Quidditch kit could get any wetter. He was just about to drag himself to the hot water when he heard one of the twins shouting, "Alicia, what are you doing in here!? We're changing!"
Alicia ignored them and walked over to Harry, handing him a vile of potion, "Drink it harry. It's a Pepper-Up potion," she said, before raising her voice, making it clear that the next bit was aimed at other people, than just Harry, "Wood needs to remember, your body is smaller, and while that makes you a fantastic seeker, you lose body warmth a lot faster."
Harry drank the potion, bracing himself for the effects. For two or three seconds it felt like his mouth was on fire. A side effect of the chilli-pepper that gave the potion its name, the heat quickly passed from his mouth and flowed into the rest of his body, returning the feeling to his nerves as it went. Steam started to puff from his ears, but with the numbing cold now gone from his limbs, Harry didn't seem to care about that other side effect.
"Now, you go grab a shower while I talk to Oliver about keeping our Seeker healthy. He'll listen if he wants to remain healthy."
--- ϟϟϟ ---
Sunday 31st October
Harry woke up with Oliver Wood standing over him shaking him awake, "Up, Potter! I was able to book the pitch today, so we are getting extra practice in." It took Harry a few minutes for his brain to catch up with what was going on as he fought off his sleepiness. As his mind cleared, he realised that his captain was trying to get him to practice Quidditch...on Halloween.
Wood could piss right off. He rolled over and turned his back to Wood, who was not deterred in his attempts;
"No being lazy! Come on Harry, while the other teams slack off for the day, we will train, this year; that cup is ours!" He tried in vain to motivate his Seeker to come and practice, but Harry was having none of it, "No, Oliver, It's Halloween. Go away!"
Wood wasn't stopped that easily, and started pulling on Harry's blanket, trying to get him up.
"Wood, just fuck off !" Harry just could not be bothered with Quidditch today.
A few seconds later there was more noise as the twins entered the room, hearing Harry's situation from the other room. Harry, expecting that they were there to help Wood, just groaned loudly, pulling his blanket over his head. However, the two twins went and grabbed Wood, starting to pull him out of the room.
"What are you two doing?" Oliver demanded. They didn't answer and continued to drag him out. Once the door closed, Harry heard a muffled argument outside of the door that quickly faded as Fred and George pulled their captain back upstairs.
Harry tried to go back to sleep but just wasn't able to; now that he was awake he would have to face the day he'd been hoping to sleep through as much as possible. "I fucking hate Halloween", he muttered as he dragged himself out of bed and got dressed. He pulled his trunk open to its bookshelf and selected one of the tombs before making his way down to the common room.
Hermione was sat near the fire waiting for him. She walked over and put her arms around him, though this wasn't one of her normal hugs, it was one of her 'hold him as close as possible' hugs. It was more gentle and calm. She looked at the book Harry was carrying and nodded, neither of them needing words.
Harry made his way over to the portrait hole with Hermione refusing to remove her one arm from around him, and she just walked alongside him. They reached the grand staircase without speaking, before Harry started to talk, "'Mione...I don't feel like breakfast, but you should go. Maybe even go to Hogsmeade; you don't need to be around me today." This weekend was the second Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Most students had gone yesterday but Harry and Hermione had stayed in the castle.
Hermione gave him an angry glare, "I'm not going anywhere Harry Potter, not when you're like this. I would be a terrible girlfriend if I did." Harry thought about arguing with her, she should be able to go have fun, even if he was miserable, but he knew she wouldn't and he secretly really did want her to stay.
Today would be hard enough without feeling alone.
Harry considered where he wanted to go, or more accurately, where could he go without being bothered by anyone. Then, inspiration struck and he led his girlfriend up to the Seventh floor. A quick back and forth up and down the corridor, and the Room of Requirement popped into existence in front of their very eyes.
The room was very much like it was for Hermione's birthday, with a comfortable sofa in front of a fire. Only, there was no dining table this time, and the colours were all much darker and gloomier, casting daunting shadows across the room. Harry collapsed on the sofa clutching the tome to his chest, while Hermione settled next to him.
"I'm sorry Hermione...I know today is also two years since we became friends, but it's also..." Harry trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence, not wanting to put those terrible thoughts and memories into words.
Hermione continued for him, "...Twelve years since that night. I know Harry, It's OK." She put her arm back around him and snuggled into his side, "Do you want to talk about it?" she tentatively offered, only for Harry to shake his head.
They sat there for a while his thoughts alternated between his parents, the Chamber of Secrets, before it finally settled on one of his worst memories; when the Troll had attacked Hermione in their First year;
Harry was walking around the halls of Hogwarts. All his classmates were at the Halloween feast eating cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties. Harry, however, didn't feel like celebrating. He was never a fan of Halloween. One of the few things the Dursleys had told him that was the truth was the date his parents had died. And that date was the 31st October; Halloween.
They had told him that his parents were drunk coming home from a fancy dress party, that they had taken Harry with them knowing that there would be drinking and that his father had driven their car off the road because he was too drunk to see straight.
When Harry had discovered the magical world and learned that his parents had been murdered, he had hoped they had lied about the when as well. Other kids seemed to have so much fun on Halloween; costumes, trick or treating and all the sweets and games, but to him, it just never felt right to do anything fun that day. He had hoped that they lied so that he wouldn't not like Halloween.
He had looked for books about that fateful day in the Hogwarts library, but he didn't find any. In the end, he had asked that Hermione girl. She had mentioned he was talked about in some books. The girl had lent him her own copies for a few days, where he had read a little about his parents and their murderer from the pages. How Voldemort was so obsessed with blood purity he and his followers had started what was called the 'blood war'.
His father, who was pureblood, had married a muggle-born, his mother. This marriage had gone against everything Voldemort had stood for, so he had killed Harry's parents as an example. What happened after that was a mystery; all anyone knew was that Voldemort's body had been found and Harry was alive, with a mysterious lightning-shaped scar as the only noticeable damage to the child.
As he wandered around the castle, he started to notice a weird smell. Not a pleasant one either, it was like someone had overcooked brussels sprouts and bad cheese in a toilet that hadn't been flushed in weeks. He had just decided to turn around and go somewhere that smelled a little nicer when he heard a scream.
This scream wasn't a fun scream or a surprised scream. It was the type of scream Harry used to make before he learnt that his uncle hurt him less if he was silent. He didn't have a chance to think, he was already rushing to the source of the scream before he could consider doing anything else. His conscience wouldn't let him turn away, nobody should have to make that kind of scream, whether they be a muggle or a wizard or witch.
He sprinted down the corridor, pushing himself as fast as his legs would take him. The screaming had stopped, but there was a number of bangs and crashes that directed him where to go. He rounded a corner and saw it; a hole in the wall of the corridor. Not a small hole either, it must have been ten or twelve feet wide. The banging, crashing and smell all seemed to be coming from the other side of that hole. There was also breathing, heavy laboured breathing, but whatever was doing that breathing was big. Not Uncle Vernon big though. Whatever it was, was so, so much bigger.
He was just considering running when he heard another sound. Below the sound of stuff breaking and below the sound of heavy breathing, was an almost silent sobbing.
There was someone in there.
He was at the hole in the wall less than a second later, and on the other side looked to be the remains of a girls' toilet. Standing in the centre of the destruction was some sort of monster. It was twelve feet tall and shaped like a man with ugly grey skin. The smell didn't seem to come from the broken toilets, but from the thing, whatever it was.
He could also see the source of the scream and sobbing right there, half-buried under the ruins of broken toilet stalls. It was the girl who had lent him her books, Hermione Granger. The hulking monster was looming over her, lifting the section of a tree it was using as a club, obviously intending to smash it into the Hermione girl. On pure instinct, Harry grabbed a piece of the broken stonework, and with all of his strength, threw the piece of masonry directly at the back of the monster's head, all while he shouted as loud as he could, "HEY! GET AWAY FROM HER!"
Harry didn't know if it was the stone, the words or a combination of the two that made the monster turn its attention to him, but suddenly it turned towards him, intent on squashing him with its club.
The club was coming down and Harry was sure that he was about to die. He hoped the girl escaped, then at least it would be worth it. It was hopeless, but he flung himself to the left, trying to not be under the club. He succeeded in dodging the huge club, but now he was lying on the floor looking up at the monster, the club embedded in the ground next to him. For the first time he got a good look at its face. Its head was way too small for its body and was covered in long, brown, stiff hairs that looked more like whiskers than a beard. Its small eyes were fixed on Harry as it started to raise its club again.
Harry moved, trying to get up and run, but his right side flared up in pain. While he had avoided the club, it had thrown shrapnel as it broke the stone floor. The shrapnel that Harry hadn't even tried to dodge. The pain caused him to falter, and it ended up saving his life. The monster's club came down exactly where Harry would have been if the pain in his side hadn't caused him to stumble. There was more shrapnel, and this time his face took the worst of it, only his glasses keeping the sharp flecks of stone from his eyes.
Harry started to run before the monster raised his club again. He was running down the corridor, hoping to lead the monster from the girl, and maybe even find a teacher who could help. He had run about thirty feet when he realized his mistake; he had run the wrong way down the corridor. He had unknowingly turned around while dodging the wooden club and had run down to a dead end. It really was a 'dead' end.
He turned around, hoping to get past the monster, but it wasn't following him that quickly. It seemed to know that Harry was trapped, so instead of charging him it ambling towards him slowly, making sure Harry couldn't escape. It made its way down the corridor, each step making Harry's world smaller and smaller. He hoped Hermione had run for help with the monster taking its time, maybe a teacher could arrive before he got squished. Any teacher would do; hell, he'd be happy to see even Professor Snape right about now.
Suddenly the back of the monster's head lit up with magic sparks. "H-hey! Leave h-him alone!" Hermione had gotten out from under the debris and was standing behind the monster. Maybe she didn't think she had time, or maybe she hadn't thought of it, but she hadn't gone for help. So, in the reverse of the positions from a few moments ago, she was now trying to save him. Unfortunately, the magic Hermione had used was about as effective as the rock Harry had used earlier. Utterly useless.
The monster looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione for a few seconds, confused. Then it went after Hermione. If she had had a plan, she instantly forgot it when the towering grey mass started lumbering towards her. Instead, she froze to the spot, not even attempting to run.
"RUN!" Harry shouted at her, but she didn't. It was like she didn't even hear him.
Suddenly, Harry had a bright idea. He started running at the monster's back, hoping to be able to climb up to its head. He had to get up to the head if it was going to work. His plan was fairly simple; if he could get his wand in the monster's face, maybe a strong 'Lumos' could blind it long enough for him and Hermione to escape. It was a very risky, and probably very stupid, plan, but it was all he had.
He caught up to the monster and jumped. He intended to grab onto the monster's clothes, which were little more than animal skins that it was wearing as a loincloth or toga, but as he jumped, he felt a rush of magic and found himself gripping the skins that the monster had over one shoulder. He started trying to scramble up the back of the monster, who at this point realised he was on its back and had started trying to shake him off. Harry was able to get his left arm around the monster's neck. The monster tried to grab at him, forcing Harry to move and retreat to the hard-to-reach spot in the middle of the monster's back.
They both struggled for almost a minute before Harry saw an opening and jumped, flinging both his arms around the monster's neck. He pointed his wand up, and was just about to try the 'Lumos' charm, when the monster started to scream in pain.
Harry's wand was stuck up the monster's nose.
Harry tried to take the wand out of its nostrils, it wasn't doing Harry or the monster any good up there, but he had to hold onto both the monster and his wand and the monster's thrashing and shaking was not making it easy.
Harry was starting to feel afraid, his arms were getting tired and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on for. Soon, his strength would give out and he and the nice girl who had lent him her books would die. Maybe dying won't be so bad. He could meet his parents. He looked at the girl and shook off that thought, he just needed to get his wand out of the monster's nose, then he and Hermione could run.
He tried to remove his wand again, but he couldn't; he just didn't have any strength left, it was only desperation that was letting him hold on at this point. The only thing he could do was hope that the monster moved in just the right way and freed his wand. He started thinking over and over, 'get off my wand, get off my wand', if there were any magical gods, wouldn't they help him? Then, as if he had been answered, he felt the magic flow into his wand.
It wasn't really a spell, nor was it completely accidental magic, it was more like an unusual mix of desperation and determination, causing his magic to try and push the monster off his wand. Then two things happened at once; there was a grunt of pain from the monster, who suddenly stopped struggling, and Harry's wand went shooting down the corridor. Harry thought he was going to die. Here he was, clutching to the neck of a monster that was trying to kill him, and now he didn't even have his wand to protect himself.
But instead of struggling and fighting him like Harry expected, the monster tipped forward and crashed into the floor. Harry screamed in pain as a crunching sound came from his left arm, as it was smashed between the floor and the monster. Harry rolled off of its back, trying to pull his arm out from under it, but the monster must've weighed at least a couple of tonnes.
Hermione had finally gotten over being scared to move and was now merely terrified. At least she was moving now. "Wingardium leviosa", with a swish and flick of her wand, the monster's head was lifted enough for Harry to shift his shattered arm. He tried hard not to cry out in pain, biting his lip so hard that it bled as he stifled the tears that were on the edge of his eyes.
The last thing he wanted was to wake up the monster, and it didn't look like it would take much; its foot was already twitching. He peeked at his arm to see how bad it was.
It was bad. Very bad.
Arms are only meant to bend at the joint, but his arm curved and swayed at places it shouldn't.
Hermione put her head under his good arm and used it to help get him to his feet, "Come on, we need to find a teacher and get you to the Hospital Wing."
Harry didn't argue. Right now he was only wishing for two things; that the monster wouldn't wake up and that his wand was OK. "My wand," he croaked, his voice sore and weak from the excessive amounts of screaming he had done, as well as the pain of his arm making his head dizzy, "I-I need my wand."
Hermione checked over Harry to make sure he wouldn't collapse without her supporting him, and then went to grab his wand. She pocketed it along with her own before she went back to helping Harry walk. They turned a corner and saw Professor McGonagall walking up the corridor.
Hermione called to her, "Professor help! Please!" The last word caught in Hermione's throat and came out as much a sob as it was a word.
McGonagall hurried over upon seeing the state of her two Gryffindors, "What happened Miss Granger? Why aren't you two in your dormitories!? Professor Dumbledore clearly told everyone to go back to their common rooms."
Hermione tried to hold herself together as she explained, "P-professor, I was in the b-bathroom and…" at this point tears began trickling down her face, but she ignored them, "...and then there was suddenly a-a troll there. It smashed everything..." Hermione tried again to continue, but Professor McGonagall held up her hand for silence.
McGonagall pointed her wand at her throat and then started speaking, only a lot louder than normal, "The troll has been located: fourth-floor girls' lavatory," she then pointed her wand at her throat again, ending whatever spell she had used, before telling Hermione in her regular voice to continue.
Hermione was openly crying now, "It was ab-about t-to..." she then broke down crying and buried her face in Harry's right shoulder as she sobbed. It aggravated the wounds on his side, but not enough for him to react to them.
He continued the story where Hermione left off, "When I got there the uh...troll was just about to attack Hermione." Harry's voice was monotone as he explained his version of what happened.
Professor Snape and Flitwick turned up partway through his explanation and went to deal with the still docile troll. Harry paid them no attention as they entered the destroyed bathroom, " -and it somehow knocked the troll out. It landed on my arm and then we left before it could wake up."
Harry jumped as someone started talking from close behind him, "Mr Potter, there is no chance of that troll waking up." Harry recognised Snape's voice, "You didn't knock it out. You killed it."