“Say Neville.” Ron said between bites at the Halloween feast, “Did you see Hermione after class? She was almost as quiet as Harry today.”
Harry gave a thumbs down. He had heard that joke so many times already. He silently pretended to boo.
“Alright, alright. I haven’t even used it that much." Harry wrote down the number. Ron raised an eyebrow. “Fifty two times? How…? Oh right, I forgot. Your memory. That is kind of a lot.”
A smug voice came from their left. One of the Gryffindor girls was looking at them.
“Oh, that know it all Granger? Last I heard she was crying in the girls' bathroom. You know the one with that weird owl carving on the door? Did your group have a falling out with her? Give me that gossip. It’s only fair.”
Ron put his head down and muttered.
“Er, something like that. Still figuring it out honestly. Crying though…”
He turned to Neville and Harry, ignoring the girl who went back to her food appearing disappointed at the dismissal.
“We were just thinking about it, right?" Ron said, "It’s not like we think she actually did it?”
Neville shook his head, and after some hesitation Harry shook his head too. If Ron and Neville believed she was innocent then Harry thought they were probably right. Harry finished his next plate of food. He didn’t have to worry about restricting his food too much now that everyone already knew about his massive appetite.
Neville spoke up, “What else could it be though? The writing’s exactly the same. And she’s smart enough to get away with it too…”
The great hall doors burst open and Professor Quirrell burst in shouting.
“TROOOOOOOLLLL. TROOOOLLLL IN THE DUNGEON.''
He skidded to a stop in front of the professor’s table. He spoke again in a smaller voice.
“Thought you should know.”
Then he swayed on his feet and fainted, falling to the floor in a heap.
There was a moment of silence before everyone began to panic and scream. Dumbledore stood to his feet and his voice boomed above the chaos.
“SILENCE! Prefects, escort your respective house to their dormitories. No one is to leave there until told to do so by your head of house. Everyone remain calm and orderly.”
The voices of the prefects began to pick up as the scramble out of the great hall became much more orderly. Ron, Neville, and Harry began to leave. They had just made it out of the doors when Harry remembered something. He tugged on the sleeves of Ron and Neville and they turned to him. They turned to him as Harry tried to take out his parchment. But they were packed too tightly into the crowd and Harry didn’t have enough room to write properly.
Neville spoke.
“Harry, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Harry tried to think of how to communicate, but it was too chaotic and they were getting shoved around by the crowd. Without his parchment, he couldn’t make them understand. Eventually, Harry decided just to run off. Hopefully, they would follow him. Or maybe not. This might be dangerous if they actually encountered the troll.
Because Hermione was still out there and she didn’t know about the troll. Ron and Neville tried to follow, but one of the prefects descended on them and started yelling and ushering them back towards the main group. They pointed at Harry and the Prefect turned and saw him running away. Harry kept running, ignoring the Prefect’s and his friends shouts behind him. It was unfortunate that his friends were stuck behind, but he couldn’t slow down for them. Hermione might be in danger.
Harry missed a few turns, but he eventually found his way to the right bathroom with the owl carving on the door. Harry paused at the door as he realized he was about to enter a girl’s restroom. That was against the rules, he couldn’t do that. He cracked open the door and leaned in. He could see Hermione's bushy hair by the sink, her back to him.
“Hermione. We’ve got to get you out of here, there’s a troll around.”
She turned and blinked at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, “Ha- Harry? What are you doing here? Don’t come in here, this is the girl's room.”
Harry pointed to the doorframe and took a step back to show that he wasn’t inside the room. He should still be allowed to stand outside it at least. She didn’t seem to get it.
There were heavy footsteps down the hallway and Harry turned to see the massive figure of a troll filling the opposite end of the hallway. It was looking directly at him with a massive wooden club dragging behind it.
“Hermione, hide. I will distract it.”
Harry slammed the bathroom door closed and started running as the troll began to chase. It was quickly catching up, and Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it behind him. Trolls were highly magically resistant, but Harry conjured a burst of flames behind him anyway. They had just started with that one in class, but Harry had learned to cast it silently as soon as he could. For obvious reasons.
The troll snorted and stumbled to the side, but it barely slowed as it began to raise its club in the air. Not sure what else to do, Harry shouted at it.
“STOP!”
It froze mid swing and slowed for a moment before shaking its head and resuming forward. Its slack face twisted into anger as it rushed forward even faster. The troll got close enough that it went for a large overhand swing at Harry. He leaped to the side as the club slammed into the floor and cracked the stone. Harry began panting heavier as his fight or flight response kicked in.
His hands grew cold up to the elbow. Harry glanced at his hand and was surprised to see that his flesh was gray and lined with black veins.
The troll stumbled from its missed swing and roared loudly. Harry stared at his arms again as he scrambled to his feet. How did these help? Was he supposed to punch a troll? Harry tried a levitation charm with his wand to wrench the club from the troll’s grip, but the log as big as a tree was too heavy. Harry could only make it twitch a little from his spell as the troll extracted the club from where it had been embedded in the floor.
The troll was off balance from lifting the club, so Harry shouted at it quickly. His voice seemed to have stunned it before.
“GRAAAAAH. Drop it!”
The troll jumped and lost its grip on the club and it went clattering to the floor. The troll seemed even more enraged, and it leaped forward in a massive rugby tackle towards Harry. Harry internally sighed.
Punching a troll it was.
The cold sensation had spread all the way to Harry’s shoulders now. Harry ducked down and dived forward under the troll’s grasping arms as the thing's massive body went flying above Harry.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The troll held its hands out and smashed into a nearby stone wall at full force, embedding its arms up to the elbow in the stone. It slumped slightly as its head smacked into the wall at full speed. But a second later, it twitched and then started roaring in rage again.
This is insane, Harry thought. But his arms felt powerful and spells had done nothing for him so far. Harry ran forward and climbed onto the troll’s back. The troll bucked and shook wildly as it woke back up, its arms and shoulders still stuck in the stone wall. It roared even louder as it tried to shake Harry off its back.
Harry’s whole chest was cold now as he drew back a fist and hit the troll right in the back between the shoulder blades. Immediately Harry felt warmer and the troll groaned out in pain. There was no visible damage, but Harry could feel it moving more sluggishly now. Harry hit it again, and the coldness receded down to his elbows again. The troll grew weaker.
Harry hit it again, now only his hands were cold and covered in gray skin and black veins. Harry hit the troll one more time and it stopped moving and slumped to the ground, still held up by its arms buried in the wall. It was still breathing, just unconscious apparently. Hopefully for real this time. Harry climbed off the troll’s body and took a few good steps back. There were thudding footsteps and Harry saw a concerned McGonagall approaching. Harry groaned. The coldness was gone now, and he was feeling woozy.
McGonagall was in front of him all of a sudden as Harry swayed in place,
“Harry Potter?! Are you alright?”
Her wand was firmly fixed on the unconscious troll.
Harry replied, “Just fine Professor. Besides the woozy… wooz…spinning.”
Suddenly the world tilted, and Harry had one last thought as he fell to the floor.
'Seems like two weeks is the limit before something crazy will happen to me,'
— — —
“...Seriously, Madame Pomfrey? Is that necessary?”
Harry blinked as he heard voices above him.
“Well, if the boy is going to be here so often I don’t see why he shouldn’t get a bed reserved. The nameplate is just there to remind everyone of which bed is his. Boy’s been in here practically more than he’s been in school. I think you most of all need a reminder of that, Headmaster.”
Harry rubbed his head and sat up and spoke while still only half awake,
“I’d say it was about even before. But this one probably makes more time in the hospital than school.”
Harry blinked hard to adjust to the light around him. Madame Pomfrey spoke again.
“Hmmm, Indeed. At least it wasn’t too bad this time. Only a bit of rest and you’ll be back in perfect shape in no time.”
Harry’s eyes finished adjusting. Dumbledore was standing at the foot of the bed with Madame Pomfrey. Already knowing Dumbledore’s next question, Harry just launched right into his account of what happened. Leaving out his gray hands and strange magic, of course, that didn’t feel like something Harry should share. With the changes the way Harry told the story, it did make Harry look like a pretty big idiot. Just leaping on top of the troll and hitting it for no apparent reason after it knocked itself out hitting the stone wall. Harry finished and the two adults watched him in silence.
Harry glanced between them, and they seemed a little shocked.
“Was I supposed to wait for you to ask first?" Harry asked curiously, "I’ll do that next time if that’s the rule.”
Madame Pomfrey sputtered.
“Harry Potter! There will be no next time. We were just surprised at your promptness, is all.”
Harry gestured to himself.
“Past experience says otherwise. I’m sure everyone said that last time I was attacked as well. I feel like I should have received a warning about how dangerous things would be before I came to the wizarding world, it's getting a little absurd at this point. So, should I wait to ask or just launch into it next time?”
Dumbledore sighed.
“If this ever happens again, feel free to just explain as soon as you wish to. You’re right that it does save some time.”
Madame Pomfrey looked scandalized.
"Albus! Surely you’re not saying this boy is going to be attacked again?”
The headmaster shook his head.
“Of course not, of course not. But the boy has a point. Much has happened to him already. It is always good to be prepared for the future, however unlikely it might be.”
Harry piped in.
“Not that unlikely. But thank you for the answer, Headmaster. By the way, how is Hermione? I tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand me because the curse was lifted at the time.”
Madame Pomfrey huffed.
“Don’t you worry, Granger is just fine. Not even a scratch. But that curse… I can’t believe it’s come back yet again. I’ll make sure you have another appointment for St. Mungo’s for this afternoon to lift it again.”
Harry shook his head.
“Actually, I would like to keep it active. Not being able to talk properly is quite unpleasant. And I’ve already read all the textbooks for my classes so I don’t have to worry about that part anymore either.”
“Are you sure, Harry?” Dumbledore said, “There’s still a chance they could fix both problems if you got treated.”
Harry shrugged.
“It seems unlikely. They didn’t seem very confident about being able to do anything the last time I went. Mostly they just wanted to spend a long time trying to learn more from the curse spell structure. I think they’ve already given up on trying to remove it from me completely.”
“Oh my,” Madame Pomfrey said. She turned to Dumbledore, “Headmaster, didn’t you have to go determine where that troll came from?”
“Hmmmm. Oh, yes. Indeed, I’ll be off then.” The Headmaster said, “I’ll yet again wish you a rapid recovery, Harry.”
With that, the headmaster left and Madame Pomfrey made Harry drink a foul tasting potion that was meant to help him recover from his exhaustion.
— — —
After long hours of searching for the perpetrator who released the troll, Dumbledore sagged into his chair in his office. How had things become so complicated so quickly? The perpetrator was likely Quirrell, his strange behavior recently was suspicious, but he couldn't make any assumptions at this point without any further evidence either way. This incident was yet another target for Lucius Malfoy’s attacks on the school and its headmaster. And Harry Potter always seemed to find himself in the center of it all…
Dumbledore rolled the voice transcription quill between his fingers. The boy choosing to retain the curse had been unexpected. It would cause the boy much difficulty in school, but it remains to be seen how much it would impede the boy in truth. There were always workarounds to these things.
Dumbledore kept staring at the quill. Draco Malfoy had been uncharacteristically cautious with the forged note from Hermione. Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom belonged to important families loyal to Dumbledore, so it was best if they remained by Harry. But Hermione Granger, while intelligent, had no political connections. So she was the best one to target with Dumbledore’s forged note.
Dumbledore had expected Draco Malfoy to shout Harry Potter’s secrets to the world the instant he received them. But that hadn’t happened, and Dumbledore was unsure what had gone wrong. Faking the betrayal of Harry by Hermione was supposed to make Harry doubt himself more and force him to question his own decisions. And perhaps to make sure to verify before he trusted someone in the future. Dumbledore had been forced to learn the consequences of placing too much trust in people the hard way, a lesson especially important given the boy's fame at such a young age.
But now the pieces weren’t moving like they should, and it was bothering the Headmaster. A perfect strike at the wrong time was worse than useless sometimes.
Harry and his friends also seemed completely uninterested in the puzzle and trial Dumbledore had created to protect the Philosopher's Stone with the help of all of the other professors at Hogwarts. Something to help train them for their future battles. The friends hadn't even visited Hagrid yet to ask about the package the man had picked up from Gringotts with the Philosopher's stone inside. There was a reason that Hagrid was asked to pick it up on the same trip he introduced young Harry to the wizarding world. Dumbledore was sure Harry would at least attempt to ask about it, but he guessed Harry and his friends had larger concerns to deal with given recent events.
Still, a shame that all of Dumbledore's planning was going to waste.
Dumbledore put the voice transcription quill back in its drawer with a sigh. Albus could give Harry Potter the quill right now, and receive some gratitude from him.
But not much.
Albus had to wait until the boy was truly struggling with his studies. Then Dumbledore could swoop in and offer him his ‘new’ invention to solve the boy's problems. He had actually made it years ago so he could rest his hands while writing his letters. He never ended up using it for its purpose, and just sitting in its desk unused as he forgot of its existence until very recently. It seems that his old habits required him to use his hands to write in order to think through the wording of his letters properly. A shame, that.
If he gave the quill at the right moment then the boy’s gratitude for that would not be forgotten as easily then. Well, not that Harry Potter forgot anything. Nor was Dumbledore sure if it even made a difference in this case. But better safe than sorry, so Dumbledore would wait until the golden moment to assist. The best time for Dumbledore to improve his reputation with the boy.