Time at Hogwarts seemed to go by quickly for Harry. He spent a decent amount of time in classes, and even more time in the library. Apparently, being able to complete the spells without using his wand or an incantation did not mean he didn't have to write essays on the theories behind the spells.
Which sucked.
He didn't mind the research and reading, that was something of a second nature to him. And he really enjoyed getting to spend the time with Susan, Draco, Neville, and Hermione. Sometimes Blaise, Nott, and Ron joined them and they would push two tables together so they can all study together.
His real problem with the essays were that they were boring, pointless to write if you can master the magic, and handwriting had never been a particular skill of Harry's.
He had left school in primary Year 3 and had never went back to any formal education until joining Hogwarts. He already knew how to read when he was five, and continued to sharpen and expand his reading and vocabulary skills through the libraries he frequented, but writing had never seemed very important to him before and he was paying for it now.
He spends extra time on his homework and essays for Professor McGonagall. He doesn't want to give her any extra reasons to disapprove of him in classes.
He stopped sitting up front with Susan in their transfiguration class, opting for a more reclusive table in the back. Draco, who seemed to have taken on the job of defending Harry quite personally, moved himself and Blaise to the table directly in front of him which shielded him nicely when the Professor is at her desk. Susan had simply rolled her eyes and moved to the back with him with no more fanfare than just a knowing gleam in her eyes.
He was trying to keep Professor Snapes words in mind when he did have to cast spells in class, but they were just so easy.
Ever since last month when the potions Professor warned him about 'keeping his head down' around people that 'wouldn't understand him', Harry had understandably been much more wary in his Transfiguration classes.
Besides McGonagall, and writing, Harry was finding himself enjoying Hogwarts much more than he thought he would.
His gang had decided to begin exploring the castle after Ron swore that his brothers knew all sorts of secret passageways that they refused to share with him. They haven't found many secret passageways but the boys still enjoyed running around the castle together.
He has also had two occlumency lessons with Professor Snape so far. All they've done is discussed the theory and worked on clearing Harry's mind but the Professor said that soon he would be able to begin building mental walls which can keep out 'unwanted intrusive thoughts'. Which Harry figures is the adult way of saying 'nightmares'.
Which is actually a pretty sneaky way of saying it without sounding weak and Harry had committed that description to memory in case he needs it in the future.
'Harry did you have a nightmare?'
'Nope, just some unwanted and intrusive thoughts.'
Brill.
***
Before he knew it, the castle was prepared for Halloween. There were over a dozen giant pumpkins decorating the Great Hall. Ron told him that the groundskeeper, Hagrid, grew them himself behind his hut on the lawns. There was an aroma of baked goods that managed to get in to every classroom that day. Ron and Draco spent the day talking about the feast and the treats that would be available while Blaise told Harry all about the entertainments that Dumbledore set up for past Halloween celebrations ('Dancing skeletons Harry! And bats that can speak in riddles!' Madness.)
In Charms class that day Harry sat with Ron and smirked at Draco as he went to sit with Hermione. Ever since Draco had said he didn't want Hermione to join their gang he's been making him partner with her in Charms and Herbology to see for himself why the witch should be included. The Ravenclaw girl was bossy, and could be a bit of a teachers pet sometimes, but Harry could see that she was clearly one of the smartest witches in their year.
She'd never make it a month on the streets but Harry doubted there were many at Hogwarts who could. Any kid who thinks it's an every day occurrence for food to magically pop up in front of you is clearly not going to take a peek in dumpsters for their next meal.
Posh tossers, the lot of them.
Professor Flitwick told them that today they would all be learning the levitation charm. Most of the class was excited, but Ron rolled his eyes when he saw Harry pull out his potions homework.
"Is there anything you don't already know how to do?" He muttered.
Harry just shrugged, if there was he wouldn't be telling anyone.
During the class Harry heard his classmates all yelling "wingardium leviosa," with different levels of success. Hermione, unsurprisingly, had earned Ravenclaw ten points when she made her feather float on her second try. Blaise and Nott seemed to be in some sort of a mock duel with their feathers. Rons feather remained firmly on the table, refusing to float so much as an inch off the surface.
Flitwick came over and shook his head at Ron in disappointment and peered curiously at Harry.
"Let's see it Mr Potter!"
Harry grinned shyly at the friendly Professor and focused on his potions textbook, ignoring the light weight feather beside it.
Float.
Professor Flitwick squeaked in excitement, a noise Harry has heard from him often in class.
"Very good Mr Potter! Just amazing!! Fifteen points to Slytherin!" He squealed. "Professor Snape is a lucky man to have you in his house!"
Harry grinned at him and released his textbook back to his desk.
"I'll tell him ya said that, sir."
Harry liked Professor Flitwick. So far the excitable man had been nothing but kind and complimentary towards him. It didn't hurt matters that he's not nearly as scary as the other teachers since he's one of the few people that Harry is taller than.
Of course, now that he thinks about it, he's pretty good at magic so maybe a lot of power can come from a small body? Something to consider anyway.
Flitwick had circled back to Hermione and Dracos table and was urging Draco to complete the spell. Harry could hear Hermione whispering encouragement to Draco but he still wasn't getting it.
He was getting frustrated though. Harry could see his cheeks pinking and his light grey eyes narrowing.
"I don't need help from a prissy little Mudblood like you Granger," he whispered after Flitwick walked away.
The effect of his whispered words was instantaneous in the tables around them. Ron stiffened and glared at Draco while Nott groaned outloud and put his head on his desk. Blaise, strangely enough, shot a beseeching look at Harry before covering his face- as if embarrassed by what Draco said.
Hermione looked as if she had been struck. Her eyes became watery in a way that made Harry's stomach clench uncomfortably and she scooted her chair as far away from Draco as she could without actually moving.
As soon as the Professor dismissed them for the feast, Hermione bolted, tears leaking down her cheeks.
Harry made to follow her but Blaise stopped him.
"Give her some space," he said.
Harry would have argued with him but he knew that Blaise lived alone with his mum and thought he probably had some good ideas when it came to girls.
Outside the classroom Nott whispered something softly to Draco, who looked at Harry, then nodded at Nott and took off towards the dungeons.
"What's mudblood mean then?" Harry asked Blaise on their way to the Great Hall.
"Shhh," Ron hushed him, glancing around to make sure nobody could overhear them. "You don't want people hearing you say that, mate. They all already think you're evil."
Harry rolled his eyes but he knew Ron was right. He wasn't being tripped or whispered about nearly as much, not to his face anyway, but that doesn't mean people weren't still thinking it.
"Well," Harry whispered to him, "what's it mean then?"
Ron gave Blaise and Nott a look that clearly said, "help me", they both just shook their heads at him though.
Ron sighed, "it's a really foul word for muggleborns," he whispered. "It means 'dirty blood', 'cause some purebloods think they're better than anyone with muggle blood."
Harry felt his stomach ice over and he stumbled as his vision started to go grey around the edges.
"You're just a dirty freak... Dirty bum... Stay away from here you dirty brat... Nobody cares about a dirty slag..."
"He said she's got dirty blood?" Harry hissed.
Ron's face went rather pale beneath his freckles but he nodded.
"It's archaic and stupid," Blaise drawled. "Only the most ridiculous purebloods still subscribe to those beliefs. We've all seen Granger trounce Draco in classes."
Nott, who had been rather quiet up until now, smirked.
"He was embarrassed that he couldn't make his feather float like Granger was. Now he's hiding from Potter."
Harry, who had been focusing on controlling his own spiraling thoughts, zoned back in to the conversation at Notts words.
"No where he can hide really, is there? 'M gonna see him when we get back to our room."
Nott laughed and Ron smirked, a rare sight on his normally joyful face.
"2 sickles that Draco pisses himself," Blaise whispered to Nott as the boys entered the Great Hall.
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!"
Prefect Farley shared a panicked look with Prefect Flint who had hissed, "is he fuckin mad? Our dorms are in the dungeons."
Farley stood and ran to the neighboring Ravenclaw table and talked quickly with their prefect before coming back and announcing, "we will be going to the Ravenclaw tower! Follow me quickly please!"
The boys all quickly followed her out of the hall when Nott stopped and stared blankly at the floor.
"Draco is in the dungeon," he said. "I told him to just go to the dorms earlier to avoid Harry."
Harry rather thought it would be fine by him right now if Draco got bashed by a troll. Then he had an even worse thought.
"Mione," he groaned. "She don't even know 'bout the troll! Where's she at??"
The four boys ducked out of the crowd headed towards the tower, it was easy enough with how many students the two houses were made up of.
Harry looked at Blaise for an answer but was surprised when it was Ron who spoke up.
"When my sister Ginny is upset she always locks herself in the bathroom to cry."
"'Kay," Harry said, glaring at the other boys. "Go to the tower and cover for me, tell Farley bout Draco though. I don't wanna troll to find him before I do. 'M gonna go get Mione."
Blaise and Nott took off, trying to catch back up to the group. Ron, however, stayed where he was. He stuck his chin out and gave Harry a fierce sort of look.
"I'm going with you. We're sticking together."
Harry didn't have time to argue with him, he just nodded his head and took off towards the closest girls bathroom to the charms classroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.
"Get back!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin.
"Don't touch me," Harry hissed back, yanking his arm from Ron's grip.
Peering around it they saw Professor Snape running quickly through the hall. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.
"What's he doin'?" Harry whispered. "Ain't he 'sposed to be with the other teachers?"
"Search me."
Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.
"He's goin' to the third floor," Harry whispered, 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 Harry used to hide in to wash up in private.
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 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. "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.
"It's the troll," Ron breathed in shock.
They stayed against the wall as the troll ducked in through a doorway in the hall.
"Let's go," Ron whispered. Harry was about to do just that when they both froze as they heard a terrified, familiar, high pitched shriek come from the room with the troll.
"Mione."
Harry sprinted through the doorway with Ron groaning, but right behind him.
He was a decent bloke. Not many other kids would follow him in to a room with a troll in it.
Inside the bathroom, Hermione 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.
"Get her and go!" Harry yelled to Ron, as he himself ran towards the troll.
"Oi!" He shouted at it, trying to take its attention off the other students. "Get outta here you wanker!"
It seemed to work for a moment, the troll stopped swinging its club and turned to look at Harry. Ron was desperately trying to drag Hermione away, but the girl seemed to be frozen with fear.
After sizing him up the troll just grunted and turned back to the other kids, as if deciding Harry wasn't worth his time.
Which Harry took a little personal.
"Hermione!" He yelled, catching her attention. "Go!"
She stumbled but Ron grasped her arm and they were almost to the door when the troll smashed its club against the wall where they had just been standing- driving them to dodge it and back to the other corner of the room.
"Bastard," Harry muttered. "Let's see how you like that."
He focused as hard as he could on his core, pulling and pulling on his magic until he could feel his whole arms filled with it.
Blow his club up, he thought harshly.
The troll (and Ron) screamed as the wooden club exploded, sending giant splinters all through the room. Including, Harry noted thankfully, in one of the trolls eyes.
It screamed and groaned and clutched its eye before turning and roaring spittle at Harry.
Guess he's got its attention now.
The troll raised one of its fists, clearly going to substitute them for its burst club.
Harry sized it up quickly and decided that, based on its scream after its eye was pierced, the troll had the same weakness as most people he'd fought. It's eyes. He grabbed his penknife out of his pocket and took a running leap, landing directly on the trolls back.
He quickly used the momentum to shove his knife straight through its remaining good eye, trying to drag it downwards as he did. Cutting someone straight in didn't hurt nearly as much as dragging the knife down through the opening.
He knew this from experience.
The troll started spraying rancid smelling blood from the gash Harry made, his knife lodged in to a spot somewhere above its cheek.
It shrieked a horrible sound before it swayed and crashed to the ground, Harry still clinging precariously to its neck.
He carefully got to his feet. He was shaking, out of breath, and was the room spinning? Ron was standing there with his wand uselessly raised, staring at the troll dumbly.
It was Hermione who spoke first.
"Is it — dead?"
"I dunno," said Harry, with a quaver in his voice. "Hope so though, eh?"
He bent down and yanked his knife free from the trolls cheek.
"Urgh – troll blood."
He wiped it on his robes after noticing he was covered in blood anyway.
A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. 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, McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Professor 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.
Harry could have sworn he saw his eyes flash red but since the room was still spinning a bit he decided he wasn't a reliable witness.
McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of staying at Hogwarts were slowly diminishing in his mind. His breath was coming quicker and quicker and his hands were shaking.
"P-Professor," he gasped, hoping Snape could talk him through the breathing thing he did during their first occlumency lesson.
Professor Snape was at his side almost instantaneously.
"Breathe," he murmured quietly. "Smell the flowers while I count to three."
Harry inhaled through his nose while he counted, ignoring the looks of confusion from his friends and the seething glare from McGonagall.
"Good, now blow out the candle, slowly, while I count to five."
He blew the air out of his mouth shakily. The room was no longer spinning, even though his stomach felt cold and there was still a grey hue around the edges of his vision.
"Good job Potter, do it again while I cast a diagnostic for injuries." Snape said quietly.
Harry breathed slowly, appreciating the mans trick for calming his racing heart and panicked thoughts. He hardly noticed as the Professor tapped his head with his wand, using a different charm than he did during the physical.
"If you are quite done coddling the boy Severus, I would like to know what exactly happened here," McGonagall said harshly.
Harry locked his shaking muscles in place, refusing to flinch away from the woman even as he ducked his head.
It was Hermione who spoke up first.
"Please, Professor McGonagall, it was because of me. Harry and Ron saved my life," she said in a trembling voice.
"Weasley, explain." Snape snapped.
"Sir, we were headed for the Ravenclaw Tower with our house when Harry remembered Hermione wasn't at the feast yet. We were worried that she didn't hear about the troll and so we came to find her only the troll beat us here.
"Harry tried to have me grab Hermione and run while he distracted it but by the time we were to the door the troll blocked it. So then Harry made the club explode, which was wicked, and it blinded the troll in one eye. But it tried to smash Harry with its fists! And then he... well," Ron glanced at Harry who shook his head minutely. "Well then he threw one of the pieces of the sink at its face, cutting it. Then it fell," he ended lamely.
Quirrell looked up after Ron's story, shooting Harry a piercing look of disbelief, but thankfully the man didn't say anything.
He was an odd professor; but not a bad bloke.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, turning to Hermione. "Is this the truth?"
Hermione nodded, "yes ma'am, that's what happened."
"Well — in that case..." said McGonagall, staring at the three of them. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, why were you dawdling in a restroom instead of joining the feast?"
Hermione hung her head and Harry's earlier rage was starting to return. He needed to get back to the dorms, quickly.
"Five points from Ravenclaw," McGonagall contributed, "and ten points from each of you boys for failing to track down a professor when you realized Miss Granger was absent."
Harry's anger was growing. They lost twenty points for saving Hermione?! He glared at the floor, keeping his head ducked to avoid showing her how angry he was.
'Don't create powerful enemies,' the voice in his head whispered, repeating Snapes instructions.
"Weasley, Potter, with me." Snape instructed. "Minerva I trust that you can return Miss Granger to her dormitory?"
Without waiting for the other professors response, Snape swept out the doorway with the boys trailing behind him.
As they went through the halls, Harry jogging lightly to keep up with the other two, Professor Snape spoke quietly.
"The troll was sliced open eerily similar to Mister Lestrange, is that a coincidence boys?"
Ron, who Harry was really starting to appreciate letting in his gang, responded at once.
"That's what I said, sir," his voice just on the edge of disrespectful.
"Very well," Snape didn't even look back at them. "I expect, if you are questioned again about the events of tonight, that your story remains unchanged."
Harry could hardly believe it. Professor Snape clearly knew they'd been lying and was telling them to continue the lie! The man was a bastard but he was wicked awesome too.
When they arrived at the entrance to the common room Professor Snape stopped them.
"Thirty points to Slytherin for rescuing a damsel in distress," he smirked.
Harry grinned at him, pleased he'd recognized the injustice of McGonagall taking so many points when they'd risked their lives to save Hermione.
As they were climbing in the loud room Snape had one more thing to say to Harry, "keep that knife on you but only for emergencies."
Harry nodded at him, he had no plans on putting it away ever again anyway.
The common room fell silent as the boys entered it. Harry wasn't sure why until Ron cleared his throat and sent a pointed look at his robes.
Oh, right. The blood.
"Thank Merlin!" Draco said, breaking through the gawkers to approach them with Blaise by his side. "I thought you guys got killed by the troll!"
Harry had him pinned to the door by his robes with one hand and his knife under his chin with the other before the blonde could even process what was happening.
"This is your fault," he hissed, his eyes flashing furiously. "Why'd ya have to say that to Mione, huh?" He shook the frozen boy once, "called her dirty blooded, didn't ya?"
He shoved the tip of his knife into Dracos chin, just enough to knick the skin and ooze out a droplet of blood.
"Looks like you got the same blood she does, doesn't it? D'ya wanna see more to prove it?"
"Harry, I'm s-sorry," Draco gasped. "P-please, I d-didnt mean it."
"Yeah?" Harry asked, smiling his worst smile. "Good, then tomorrow you can tell her that, in front of the whole hall, can't ya?"
Draco nodded frantically and Harry threw him away from him.
"Final warning, Draco, then you're out," he said cruelly to him as he scooted away on the floor. "And ya won't like that much, will ya?"
Draco shook his head and sputtered out more frantic apologies.
Harry ignored him and turned to Blaise, who was reluctantly handing two silver coins to Nott.
"There anything to eat? I'm bloody starving."
Ron laughed a hysterical laugh, bent over clutching his stomach.
"Go shower Harry, you stink," Blaise plugged his nose dramatically. "Then you can come back and eat and explain to us all why you're covered in blood."
Harry smirked as he headed to the bathroom, Blaise was clearly another good asset to have in their gang.
"'Kay," he called back over his shoulder, "see if ya can find some of that treacle tart, it's brill."