She stumbled from the shock, nearly losing her footing on the slick floor, forcing Harry to steady her as they escaped the room. She whimpered, and he looked down at her leg. It was bleeding.
The porcelain!
"Episkey," he incanted, flicking his wand in a well-practised motion. The wound sealed up even as they continued to run.
His eyes darted about frantically once they were outside, and the troll's enraged roar helped him make up his mind.
He was sprinting down the corridor, Hermione in tow, when Professor McGonagall burst around the corner. She waved her wand and Harry felt himself fly towards her to a surprisingly soft landing.
She advanced on the troll with Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell behind her. Quirrell was clutching his heart and seemed closer to collapse than even Hermione. Snape, on the other hand, already had a silvery spell on the tip of his outstretched wand. It stuck the beast right in the centre of its putrid bulk, and didn't get back up.
"What on earth were you thinking?" Professor McGonagall hissed, serious agitation in her voice when she turned on them. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitories with the other students?"
Snape gave Harry a measured, piercing look.
"I was just coming down from the Headmaster's office," Harry began. "He summoned me earlier."
"That was hours ago," Professor McGonagall snapped.
"I was in there for a long time," he explained, feeling oddly calm as he spoke. Angry adults were something he had plenty of experience with. "I was coming back to join the feast when I smelled it. I approached it when I heard Hermione scream and I cast a spell."
"And which spell," Snape interjected softly, "might I ask, did you believe was suitable for taking down a fully-grown mountain troll?"
"I used the knockback jinxon its club. It was stunned for a moment, the club hit its face. I grabbed Hermione and we tried to run. And well… you arrived."
Professor McGonagall gave him a shrewd look, before shifting her attention.
"And you, Ms. Granger? You never attended my class earlier today."
"I well…" She glanced at Harry, so he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging look.
"I was upset by something Ronald Weasley said after charms. I was in the bathroom all day," she glanced down, cheeks flushed, "hiding."
Professor McGonagall's face couldn't have softened faster.
"Fifty points to Ravenclaw is in order, I believe." Professor McGonagall decided, eyeing Hermione's leg. "Ms. Granger, why don't you come with me to the Hospital Wing? We'll let madam Pomfrey to have a look at that."
"Harry healed me," the girl interjected.
"With what spell?" Professor Snape asked, snappishly.
Hermione paused for a moment. "The incantation was episky, I think."
Harry looked down. Now he was the one with red cheeks.
"Well. you should still see madam Pomfrey all the same. Five more points to Ravenclaw for a well-cast spell."
Professor McGonagall took Hermione's shoulder and gently led her away. Hermione gave him one last look before she departed.
[Thank you…]
After that, Harry and Hermione became friends, of a sort. There are some things you can't share with another person without ending up closer for the experience, and it turned out that a twelve-foot mountain troll just so happened to be one of them.
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Quidditch season had begun as November brought the first lazy flakes of snow to the highland landscape. Harry felt incredibly anxious for his first game against Hufflepuff. Cedric Diggory was supposed to be a good seeker. He breathed steadily, not knowing which was worse - people telling him he'd be brilliant, or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress. He kind of hoped somebody would do that. At least he would feel a little safer.
Of course, there were new challenges for him socially as well. Daphne could not stand Hermione, so he was now forced into a weird juggling act his friends. Just the knowledge that Hermione was now his friend drove Daphne to feel several weird emotions Harry couldn't untangle. However, when his relationship with her had not changed in the slightest, she soon relaxed and accepted Hermione in her own way. That was to say, distantly.
Harry studied with Hermione and practiced magic with Daphne and so far, keeping the separate like that appeared to be working. Neville on the other hand, couldn't seem to find his voice whenever Tracey was around, mostly stammering. So, Harry took some measures to keep them separate as well, if only for Neville's sake. Still, he hoped Neville would get over whatever it was soon.
A part of him hoped it had nothing to do with his parseltongue abilities. The rest of Gryffindor now seemed to avoid him like the plague.
Harry never expected to have the problem of too many friends. It made him wish for the cupboard, but tinged with an unfamiliar warmth inside his chest.
They're all so strange.
Hermione tended to lecture still, and be more than a little bossy, but nowadays a sharp reminding look was enough to make her realize what she was doing and try to relax. She had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be more interesting than he had originally thought.
The day before Harry's first Quidditch match, Daphne decided she wanted to walk around outside with Tracey and himself. Naturally, he refused because he wanted to practice magic, so, they had collectively decided to walk around outside in the freezing courtyard during break anyway. Harry wondered what else Daphne would drag him into.
Harry was forced to conjure a blue flame so that they could pass it between one another to stay warm. Tracey's story about the prefect's bathroom was abruptly cut short when Professor Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Professor Snape hadn't seen him doing anything wrong, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell Harry off anyway.
"What's that you've got there, Potter?"
It was Quidditch Through the Ages and Harry showed him, not foreseeing how a reprimand could come from this.