Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry, Ron and Alex were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning the trio thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled Ron and Alex in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection. "It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron. "Or both," added Alex.
But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again. Hermione was now refusing to speak to the trio, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus.
All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later. As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his and Alex's bacon to the floor. She made an indignant sound, and shouted, "What-? My bacooon!" (A/N: Imagine it like in the episode "Wizards vs. Angels" when she dropped her wand, but like with bacon instead. Seriously, I loved that moment! LOL)
They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said: 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. Professor McGonagall.
Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read. "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one." Just then, Alex started laughing, and Ron's ears turned red. Alex laughed, "NIMBUS? You guys have weird names around here! That sounds like a nerd's name. Like, look there's Nimbus!" Ron ears slowly returned to normal, and Alex thought, He must have thought I was making fun of him. Before she could open her mouth and say something, Harry dragged her off the bench, eager to unwrap the broomstick.
They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it. "That's a broomstick, " he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."
Ron couldn't resist it. "It's not any old broomstick, " he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." "What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."
Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked. "Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly, obviously trying to sabotage Harry. Alex just rolled her eyes. Like that's gonna work, Malfoy, you dumb idiot. "Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added. Harry, Ron and Alex headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion. "Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."
"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand. "I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry. "Yes, don't stop now, " said Ron, "it's doing us so much good." Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. Alex turned to Ron. "Don't you think that was a little too harsh?" Ron just shrugged, and they continued on their way.
Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Ron and Alex to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.
"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top. Alex just snorted and commented, "I've seen better flying carpets." As Ron and Harry looked at her incredulously, she just shrugged and took out a bite out of the sandwich that she grabbed on the way up.
As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. He'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.
Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling - he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch. "Hey, Potter, come down!" Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him. "Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant... You really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week." He opened the crate.
Then, he began explaining Quidditch, which was a game that consisted of seven players on each team, and there are different roles: Three chasers, that throw the Quaffle, which was a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball, to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points would be rewarded every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops.
Then, there was a keeper, which for the Gryffindor's team, was Oliver. He had to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring. Next, were the two beaters. The Weasley twins were Gryffindor's beaters, which was suitable, since they were sort of like human Bludgers themselves. Their jobs were to protect their side from the Bludgers, two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle that rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms, and try and knock them toward the other team.
Lastly, the seeker, which in this case was Harry, has to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always won.
"Well, that's it - any questions?" Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem. "We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."
He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.
Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on. "That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."
Their lessons were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics. On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom, with the exception of Alex, since she technically already could.
They paired up, and Harry ended up with Alex, which was a relief, since Neville kept trying to catch his eye. Ron, on the other hand, was paired up with Hermione, and it was hard to tell which one was angrier about that, while Alex and Harry snickered at their expense.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And 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."
It was very difficult. Harry and Alex swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Alex got so impatient that she prodded it with her wand and set fire to it - Harry had to put it out with his hat. Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. "You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "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 of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. "Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"
Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her, " he said to Harry and Alex as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly." Someone knocked into Alex as they hurried past her. It was Hermione. Alex caught a glimpse of her face - and was startled to see that she was in tears. "I think she heard you."
"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends." Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, the trio overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.
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. Alex looked at the decorations and commented lightly, "This is cool, but I once had a dance battle with zombies, so this is nothing." Harry and Ron looked at her incredulously, and Alex shook her head. "Don't ask." "A DANCE battle?" Ron repeated. "Yes, we've established that fact, Ron."
Harry started laughing, and Alex starting eating, with Ron's ears slowly red. Halfway through the meal, Quirrell barged in the hall, announced that a troll broke in, and then promptly fainted. While everyone else started freaking out about the troll, Alex calmly stood on the table and shouted, "Hey! Everybody! Calm down, you dimwits! An adult will take care of the freaking troll! Panicking makes us all easier targets, because we might lose a few students in the process of freaking out! Yeesh, use common sense! Now everybody calm down and sit down!" Almost at once, everyone sat down, and Harry and Ron gaped at her, unable to process what she just did.
"Harry, Ron, close your mouths you dimwits, you'll catch flies." she commented with her mouth full. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "Thank you Miss Russo, you make an excellent point. Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"
"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs. "Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke." "Well then that guy needs pointers on how to prank people. A troll, really?" Alex deadpanned. They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions.
As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Alex suddenly grabbed Ron's arm. "I've just thought - Hermione." "What about her?" "She doesn't know about the troll." Ron bit his lip. "Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us." Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.
"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry and Alex behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view. "What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?" "Do I look like I know?" Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps. "He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Alex held up her hand. "Do you smell something?"
Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. 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. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room. "The keys in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."
"Good idea," said Ron nervously. They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it. "Yes!" Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop - a high, petrified scream - and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.
"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron. "It's the girls' bathroom!" Alex gasped. "Hermione!" they said together. It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and they ran inside. Hermione Granger 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. "Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall. The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went. "Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it.
The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it. "Come on, run, run! We gotta go!" Alex yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat 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 toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape. Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind.
The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.
Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club. Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand - not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. Instead of knocking it out like it should have, the troll just seemed unbalanced for a moment, and steadied itself again.
Alex yelled, "Quick! What rhymes with cold!" "I don't know, mould? Why are you even asking this?" Ron shouted back. Alex ignored the second part of his answer, and whipped out her wand. She chanted, "Take this club that smells like mould, and knock the troll till it's out cold!" The club lifted itself up, and hit the troll's head thrice, each time with the same sickening crunch, before the troll finally collapsed.
For a moment, no one spoke. It was Hermione who spoke first. "Is it - dead?" "Course not, I just knocked it out." Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. "Urgh - troll boogers." He wiped it on the troll's trousers.
A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four 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, 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. Alex rolled her eyes, and thought, That's overdramatic if I ever saw overdramatic. Wimp. Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron, Harry and Alex. They had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.
When she started searching for who was responsible, Hermione took the blame, much to everybody's surprise, especially Alex's. Gryffindor was rewarded five points, because Professor McGonagall took off ten points from Hermione, and they quickly scampered back to the common room.
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 them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates. But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.