The next morning, Harry woke early as usual. He finished his exercises quietly, refreshed himself, and headed down to breakfast.
The Great Hall was already buzzing with noise when he entered. The moment Harry walked in, Draco Malfoy froze.
Malfoy's eyes widened as he watched Harry stroll calmly toward the Gryffindor table and sit beside Hermione as if nothing had happened. His plan had failed. Harry wasn't expelled. He wasn't even in trouble.
Harry and Hermione talked as they normally did—about classes, homework, and spells—when a sudden flutter of wings drew attention. An owl swooped down and dropped a long, neatly wrapped package right in front of Harry.
Harry barely reacted, but he knew instantly what it was.
Without opening it, he smoothly placed the parcel into his traceless, extended pouch—the one he had bought from Gringotts. Only then did he pick up the letter tied to it and read.
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.
Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.
Harry folded the letter and slipped it into his robes.
Hermione leaned closer, curiosity shining in her eyes. "What was that?"
Harry smiled faintly. "Just a gift. I'll tell you later."
Hermione studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright." She went back to her breakfast, though she was clearly intrigued.
After eating, Harry made his way down to the grounds. Oliver Wood was already there, pacing back and forth with excitement written all over his face.
"You made it!" Oliver said brightly. "Right, let's start with the basics."
He explained the rules of Quidditch, the Seeker's role, and what he expected during matches. Harry listened calmly, absorbing everything with ease.
Then training began.
The moment Harry took to the air, Oliver's mouth fell open. Harry moved with effortless control. His speed was incredible, his turns sharp and precise. With the strength granted by his Jade Wyrm bloodline, he pulled off dives and recoveries that shouldn't have been possible for a first-year.
"Merlin's beard…" Oliver muttered, watching Harry snatch imaginary Snitches with flawless timing. "You're unreal."
Harry landed lightly, calm as ever.
Oliver broke into a wide grin. "We didn't just get a Seeker," he said proudly. "We got a monster."
Harry only smiled. Training had only just begun. Thus, Harry's life at Hogwarts continued.
It had already been two months since he arrived at the castle, and in that short time, many things had happened. Harry had earned a large number of points for Gryffindor, enough that even the professors had grown numb to his constant outstanding performances. No matter whether it was spells, theory, or practical applications, Harry always exceeded expectations.
Yet, despite all this, Professor Snape still hadn't given him an answer.
Snape neither accepted nor rejected Harry's request to become his apprentice. Every time Harry tried to bring up the subject, Snape would either change the topic, give him a sharp look, or simply ignore him altogether. It was as if the man was deliberately avoiding making a decision.
During these two months, Harry spent much of his free time with Hermione.
He guided her patiently, explaining concepts in simpler ways and helping her correct small mistakes she often overlooked. Under Harry's guidance, Hermione's growth was rapid. Her spellcasting became more stable, her Transfiguration improved noticeably, and even in Potions, a subject she struggled with due to Snape's pressure, she began showing excellent results.
Unknowingly, Hermione had started to rely on Harry—not just as a friend, but as a mentor.
At the same time, Harry continued to sign in every month, receiving powerful rewards from the system.
For the past two months, his rewards were:
1.Spider Sense (Spider-Man):
A strange ringing sensation would echo in his mind whenever danger approached, alerting him before anything happened.
2.Observation Haki (One Piece):
An extraordinary sixth sense that allowed him to perceive the presence, strength, and emotions of others, and in rare moments, even catch faint glimpses of the future.
With these abilities combined, Harry's awareness had reached a terrifying level.
Harry and the others were in Charms class, the room filled with the soft rustle of robes and the squeak of quills.
Professor Flitwick stood on a tall stack of books at the front, explaining the Levitation Charm.
"Today, we'll be learning Wingardium Leviosa," Flitwick said cheerfully. "Remember—swish and flick."
Harry was paired with Neville, while Hermione worked with Ron.
As Harry practiced quietly with Neville, his attention was drawn to the pair beside them.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron shouted, waving his wand wildly like a windmill.
"You're saying it wrong," Hermione
snapped, clearly frustrated. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. Make the 'gar' nice and long."
"Oh, you do it then, if you're so clever," Ron said angrily.
Hermione pressed her lips together, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, and flicked her wand with perfect control.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Their feather lifted smoothly into the air and hovered nearly four feet above the desk.
"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick cried, clapping his hands. "Everyone look here—Miss Granger has done it!"
By the end of the class, Ron was clearly in a foul mood.
"It's no wonder nobody can stand her," Ron muttered to Seamus, who was walking beside him. "She's a nightmare, honestly."
Just then, someone bumped into Seamus as they hurried past. It was Hermione.
Seamus caught a glimpse of her face—and saw tears in her eyes as she rushed away.
"I think she heard you," Seamus said quietly.
"So?" Ron replied, though he looked a little uncomfortable. "She must know she's got no friends."
Harry had heard everything. He watched Hermione disappear down the corridor, then turned sharply toward Ron. His expression was cold, his voice controlled—but angry.
"That was uncalled for," Harry said. "She's smart. She helps you. And you don't even appreciate it. You should apologize. Now."
Ron froze, clearly startled. Shame flickered across his face—but pride won.
"I'm not apologizing," Ron muttered, then quickly walked off with Seamus.
Harry exhaled slowly, clenching his jaw. Neville said nothing, but he looked troubled.
Without another word, Harry and Neville headed down the corridor—leaving the tension behind, but not forgotten.
Throughout the afternoon, Harry noticed something was wrong.
Hermione didn't appear in any of their classes. At first, he thought she might be sick, but then he overheard Lavender and Parvati whispering nearby.
"She's been crying," Lavender said softly. "In the girls' bathroom," Parvati added.
Harry paused for a moment when he heard that—but he didn't move. He knew this moment. Some events were meant to happen. Changing them too early could break things he wasn't ready to deal with yet and he could also use it to get closer to Hermonie directly cutting the chance of her being with Ron. So he stayed back.
That evening, the Great Hall was alive with excitement. It was Halloween, and the ceiling was filled with floating pumpkins, flickering candles, and decorations shaped like bats and ghosts. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table beside Neville, the noise and laughter washing over them.
Suddenly, the doors burst open.
Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall. His turban was askew, his face pale with terror. He reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, clutched the table, and gasped,
"T-Troll… in the dungeons… thought you ought to know—" Then he collapsed onto the floor in a dead faint.
Chaos erupted instantly.
"Silence!" Dumbledore boomed, rising to his feet. The hall fell quiet at once.
"Prefects," he commanded, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Percy Weasley hurried the Gryffindors toward the exit. Harry followed—then suddenly stopped.
His senses flared. Harry slipped away from the group without being noticed. Activating his Observation Haki, his awareness exploded outward. The castle unfolded in his mind—corridors, staircases, moving figures, hidden rooms. And then he felt it. Hermione.
She was alone in the bathroom. And worse—there weren't one, but two savage presences closing in on her.
Harry's eyes widened. This wasn't right. There was only supposed to be one troll.
"The future's changed," he muttered.
Without hesitation, he broke into a run.
The closer he got, the worse the smell became. A foul, rotting stench filled the air. As Harry turned the corner, a scream echoed down the corridor.
"Hermione!"
Sparky, hidden inside Harry's robes, trembled in fear. As Harry was at the entrance of the Bathroom and saw Two towering mountain trolls stood inside, swinging enormous wooden clubs and smashing the walls apart. Hermione was frozen in terror near the sinks, unable to move. Harry didn't think.
He acted.
"Thunder," Harry commanded sharply. Sparky reacted instantly. A burst of crackling electricity shot forward, slamming into the massive shapes ahead. The trolls roared in pain and confusion, their attention snapping away from Hermonie.
In one smooth motion, Harry pulled the Sword of Greed from his Spellweaver Ring. He gripped it with both hands, his breathing slowing, focusing, sharpening. He whispered,
"First Form: Winding Serpent Slash."
Harry vanished.
A single flash of movement cut through the air. He reappeared instantly beside Hermione. Behind him, there was a heavy thud. Then another.
The trolls' heads slid cleanly from their bodies, hitting the floor as their massive forms collapsed lifelessly behind him.
Silence followed.
Hermione stared, completely stunned, her mind unable to process what she had just seen.
Harry turned to her immediately, sheathing his sword back into the ring. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her.
"It's okay," he said softly. "You're safe now."
Hermione's knees gave out, and she clutched his robes, trembling. Slowly, the fear drained away, replaced by warmth and relief. She buried her face against his chest, breathing shakily.
Harry held her there, steady and calm, shielding her from the horror behind them.
Then footsteps echoed down the corridor. Harry's head lifted instantly, his senses already aware of who was approaching. Moments later, a group of professors appeared at the entrance of the bathroom, led by Professor Dumbledore. Behind him were Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and several others.
The moment they stepped inside, their attention was drawn first to the two headless troll bodies sprawled across the shattered floor.
Then to Harry and Hermione—standing close to him. Sensing the weight of their gazes, Hermione quickly stepped back, her cheeks flushing red. Harry, however, remained composed. He gently took her hand again, grounding her, offering silent reassurance.
Professor McGonagall was the first to speak. "What on earth were you thinking?" she demanded, cold fury sharp in her voice.
Harry and Hermione both looked at her.
"You're lucky you weren't killed," McGonagall continued. "Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Hermione opened her mouth, clearly wanting to explain—but Harry subtly shook his head, stopping her. He stepped forward slightly, meeting the professors' eyes.
"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall," Harry said calmly. "I know I broke the rules. But my friend needed me. That's why I came."
McGonagall frowned. "What do you mean, Mr. Potter? Care to explain?"
Harry nodded once. "There was an argument earlier today. Hermione tried to help Ron in Charms class, but he was irritated and said some cruel things about her. She heard them. It hurt her badly. She spent the afternoon crying and wasn't in the Great Hall when the troll announcement was made."
Hermione lowered her gaze, fingers tightening slightly around Harry's hand.
Professor McGonagall paused, her expression shifting—if only slightly.
Then Snape spoke, his voice sharp. "And how did you know she was here?"
Harry met his gaze without flinching. "I overheard Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil talking about it. They said she was in the girls' bathroom. After that… I sensed her."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Sensed?"
Harry continued evenly. "I also felt two savage presences nearby. That's how I knew something was wrong, and why I came here quickly."
Snape and Dumbledore both raised their eyebrows, but neither pressed him further.
McGonagall stepped forward, examining the corpses more closely—the clean cuts, the precision.
"And how," she asked slowly, "did you kill the trolls?"
Harry answered without hesitation. "I transfigured my wand into a sword and struck them down."
Silence fell. The professors stared at the bodies again, then back at Harry. Even with a sword, decapitating a mountain troll so cleanly was extraordinarily difficult. Doing it at eleven years old was nearly unthinkable and not only one troll but two.
Sensing the heavy atmosphere, Professor Dumbledore finally spoke.
"Mr. Potter," he said calmly, "it was very irresponsible of you to leave your House and seek out such danger."
Harry listened without interruption.
"For breaking school rules," Dumbledore continued, "ten points will be taken from Gryffindor."
Hermione's head dropped immediately. Her chest tightened with guilt. This all happened because of me, she thought.
Then Dumbledore went on. "However," he said gently, a hint of warmth entering his voice, "you also chose to help a friend in danger—and defeated two mountain trolls, which is no small achievement."
Hermione looked up sharply.
"For that," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "thirty points will be awarded to Gryffindor."
Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Relief flooded her face as she saw Dumbledore smiling kindly at them.
"It is late," he added. "You should both return to your dormitory."
"Yes, Professor," Harry and Hermione said together.
They excused themselves and hurried away.
When they reached the Gryffindor common room, they found everyone already there, eating the food that had been sent up from the Great Hall. Laughter and chatter filled the room—until Harry and Hermione walked in.
Silence fell instantly.
Harry was still holding Hermione's hand.
Feeling the sudden attention, Hermione realized it and quickly pulled her hand back, her face turning bright red. Harry didn't react, remaining calm as always.
Then Ron stood up. He walked over slowly, his head lowered. Harry watched him quietly, saying nothing.
"I'm… sorry," Ron said in a small, heavy voice. "I shouldn't have said those things, Hermione."
Hermione blinked in surprise.
Before either of them could respond, Ron turned and walked away, returning to his seat.
Harry glanced at Hermione. She nodded slightly, still shaken but calmer now.
They sat down together, ate their dinner in quiet comfort, and said little more that night.
Soon after, exhaustion caught up with them.
Harry returned to his bed, Sparky curling up beside him once more. As the dormitory lights dimmed and sleep took over, the events of the day settled into memory.
Halloween night had ended.