What I'm Looking For...

It had two months since I had started at Hogwarts. The castle felt like a home away from home, and my lessons were becoming more and more interesting now that we’d managed to master the basics. It was Halloween morning and I woke up to the smell of backing pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Yuck; I hate pumpkin.

The good thing was, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought we were ready to start making objects fly, something we had all been dying to do since he’d made Neville’s toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put us in pairs to practise. Harry got Seamus, and I got Hermione. I think she was glad that she didn’t get Harry or Ron, since she hadn’t talked to them since the day the broomstick arrived, but I seemed to be an exception.

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practising!” Squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. Ans 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.”

I watched as everyone tried to the spell. Harry and Seamus were swishing and flicking but their feather lay on the desktop. Seamus got impatient and prodded it with his wand, setting it on fire. I turned to Ron, who was next to me, while Harry put it out with his hat.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arm like a windmill.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Hermione snapped from beside me. “It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.”

“You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves to her robes, flicked her wand and said ‘Wingardium Leviosa!’

Our feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above our heads.

“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!”

Ron was very bad tempered by the end of the class, and he expressed that while we were pushing our way through the crowded corridor.

“It’s no wonder no one can stand her, she’s a nightmare, honestly.”

Someone knocked into me as they hurried past us. It was Hermione, her checks coated in tears.

“Oh you’ve really done it this time, Ron” I said sourly.

“So? He said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve noticed she’s got no friends.”

I shook my head, and ran after her. I might not like her very much, but I do have a heart.

“Hermione?” I called in the corridor, following her bushy head of hair, weaving through the crowd. “Hermione!”

I followed her to the girls’ bathroom, where she had shut herself in a cubical. I could hear her sobs and knocked lightly on the door.

“Hermione?” I said softly.

“Go away”

“Hermione, please, open the door.”

Nothing happened for a moment, but after a minute or two, the lock slid open. I pushed the door open slowly, and faced the puffy eyed Hermione.

“Come here” I said, holding my arms out to her, giving her a hug. “It’s OK. Ron can be a bit horrible sometimes; just ignore him.”

“W-why are you being so nice to me?” She said between sobs. “I thought you hated me?”

“Don’t be silly, I don’t hate you. You may be a bit annoying at times, but you’re still my friend,” I reassured her. And she was a friend; we talked at night sometimes, when we couldn’t sleep, telling each other secrets, and we studied together. She wasn’t actually that bad when you got to know her.

“But – Ron, what he said...” She started sobbing harder. I pulled away and held onto her
shoulders.

“Hey, look at me” I lifted her bowed head, “You are a wonderful person, OK? Ron just doesn’t see that. You are not a nightmare.”

We missed all our other classes, and only a couple of people came into the bathroom. I comforted Hermione, and we talked about our families, and things like that. It was about dinner time when something really strange happened.

Hermione was still crying and it didn’t look like she was going to stop anytime soon.
“God, we really need some tissues or something.” I said, looking around. I walked to the end stall and looked inside for some toilet paper.

Loud thumps came from down the hallway, and a foul stench hit me; it was like a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilets no one seems to clean. Loud grunts followed. I quickly pulled Hermione with me into the cubical.

The smell got stronger, and I peeked through a cap in the door. A twelve feet tall troll stood in the doorway. Its skin was dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs as thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. In its hand a huge wooden club; which dragged along the floor because of its long arms.

It slouched slowly into the bathroom, looking around.

“I wonder if he’s got some tissues.” I said, earning my an angry nudge from Hermione.
All of a sudden, the door slammed shut and I heard the clacking of the lock. Well, crap.
“Yes!” I heard someone say. I sighed in annoyance. Harry and Ron had just locked us in a room with a troll; great.

The troll looked around, its small mind trying to take in what was happening. I opened the door without thinking and walked out of the cubical, dragging Hermione with me, as she was clinging to my arm.

“Hey! Up there!” It looked down at me with a vacant expression. “Yeah you. Do you have any tissues? My friend here’s having a pretty crap day.”

It lifted its club at us, and I pushed Hermione down into the corner, putting myself in front of her. Harry and Ron stood in the doorway, and the troll, who hadn’t noticed their arrival, was advancing on us, knocking down sinks as it went.

“Do something!” Hermione shouted from behind me.

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

The troll stopped a few feet short from us, and it lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its little eyes spotted Harry; it hesitated, before heading for him instead, lifting its club again.

“Oi, pea-brain!” yelled Ron, throwing a piece of metal pipe at it. The troll didn’t seem to notice it hitting its shoulder, but heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ron instead, giving Harry a chance to run around it.

“Come on, run, run!” Harry yelled at us, and I quickly scrambled to my feet. Hermione however, was still pressed against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

I did a running jump and managed to fasten my arms around the troll’s neck from behind. The smell was horrible up here, and it took everything in my not to vomit. The troll didn’t notice me hanging there, but even a troll notices if you stick a long pit of wood up its nose. I’d picked up Harry’s wand before I jumped onto the troll, and it had gone straight up one of the troll’s nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed the club, and I hung on for dear life. Any second the troll could rip me off or catch me a terrible blow with the club. Hermione had sunk further into the corner, Harry next to her, and Ron pulled out his wand.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” He bellowed.

The club flew suddenly out of the troll’s hand, rising high into the air, slowly turning over – and it dropped, with a sickening crack, on to its owner’s head. The troll swayed on the spot and fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

I got to my feet, shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. Hermione was the first to speak.

“Is it – dead?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, “I think it’s just been knocked out.”

I bent down and pulled Harry’s wand out of the troll’s nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

“I would offer you a tissue to get rid of that, but there are none – he never gave us any” I said, tilting my head towards the troll whilst handing Harry back his wand.

“Urgh – troll bogies.” He wiped it on the troll’s trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of us look up. I hadn’t realised the racket we 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. Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry, not noticing me and Hermione in the corner. I’d never seen her this angry. Her lips were white.

“What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. I looked at Ron, his wand still in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”

Harry and Ron stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” Hermione said.

“Miss Granger! Miss Samuels!”

“I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I’ve read about them.” Hermione said.

Ron finally dropped his wand, and mine and Harry’s mouths nearly fell open. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

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

The three of us tried to look like the story wasn’t new to us, but it was very difficult.
“Well – in that case...” said Professor McGonagall, staring at all of us, “Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?”

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

“Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this,” Said Professor McGonagall. “I’m very disappointed in you. If you’re not hurt at all, you’d better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feasts in their Houses.”

Hermione left. Professor McGonagall turned to the three of us.
“Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go.”

We hurried out of the camber and didn’t speak at all until we had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from everything else.

“We should’ve got more than fifteen points,” Ron grumbled.

“Ten, you mean, once she’s taken off Hermione’s.” I said.

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

“We might not have needed saving if you hadn’t locked the thing in there with us,” I reminded them.

We reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Pig snout,” Harry said, and we all 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 us. There was a very
embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, said ‘Thanks’ and hurried of to get plates, leaving me standing alone.

From that moment, Hermione Granger joined our group. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll was one of them.