La Blue Wizarda HP fanfic by canoncansodoff

A/N: There is a “pantsing” in this chapter that qualifies as sexual harrassment in "The Real World - USA.". I toned it down from what I thought should have happened (given the situation and setting), but it’s still hard for me to read without getting angry…even had to write the revenge bit at the end before I could manage to finish off the humiliating part. So, take note, and apologies in advance for the fact that the revenge part isn’t in this chapter.

To quote Sirius Black’s response to Harry, “Patience, Young Grasshopper.” 

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

oo00OO00oo 

Chapter 11 –  Closest Friend and Confidant

One might think that Harry Potter, freshly minted Gryffindor Seeker, had been preparing for his first Potions Class with Professor Snape for his entire life, but in actuality it had only been slightly more than two years. The young wizard had received a “Junior Potions Master” kit and a Muggle book titled “Cooking for Kids,” on his ninth birthday, and tutelage immediately began under two witches who, while formally trained in other areas, had a real passion for their hobbies. 

Lily taught Harry basic brewing techniques within a stone-walled outbuilding on the edge of their homestead in Aberystwyth. The converted tool shed was ideal for this use…it was sturdy, well-ventilated, and distant enough for its muggle-repelling charms not to interfere with the reception of guests in the main house. Cooking classes were provided by Emmy in the well-equipped kitchen of that main house. And while it would have killed a Potions Master to admit it, these lessons really were complementary… by the end of summer hols Harry could wield a sharp knife, control a flame’s heat, and follow a recipe well enough to brew a simple pain-relief potion in the morning, then bake a lasagna in the afternoon.

Emmy Vance taught Harry the theoretical side of Potions in the same way that he was introduced to all of the other subjects taught at Hogwarts…through an adapted Muggle television game show. The category “Potent Potions” was a regular category in their home version of “Magical Jeopardy,” along with “Which Witch or Wizard,” “Beasts and Beings,” and “Charming Charms.” The adults within the Potter household had just as much fun making up new categories and questions as the children had answering them. 

Although there was always a temptation to introduce personal bias… 

“Let’s try ‘Greasy-haired Gits’ for five hundred, Dad.” 

“And the answer is….” 

Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones loved to play “Magical Jeopardy,” alongside Harry whenever they visited Tyr-yr-Hydd, so they were almost as prepared as he was for their first lesson with Snape (which took place two days before the first joint Gryffindor-Slytherin class). Their post-class debriefing recounted a pompous bit of puffery about Potions being the greatest of Magical Arts, but there was no attempt to trip up anyone within the class with trivia. 

Then again, none in that First Year class had followed in their father’s footsteps and already gotten the better of Snape, so that really didn’t mean much. 

Older Gryffindor students were all too willing to scare their Ickle Firsties with stories about Snape, and warn them of the petty favoritism he showed his Snakes. Hermione and Dean Thomas, the only muggleborns within this small group, couldn’t believe that their Potions instructor could be that bad…they stated that any teacher that bullied students or blatantly played favorites within a Muggle school would raise the ire of parents and get them sacked.

Harry used a history lesson provided by his mum to put Snape’s teaching in perspective for his class mates. While what Dean and Hermione stated might be true for the Muggle Primary schools that they attended, or government-funded Secondary schools, it was less so for Muggle Public boarding schools that were the equivalent of Hogwarts. And it was certainly not the case in any Muggle school before the 1960’s, when the cane and corporal punishment were considered essential components of the curriculum. Hermione then asked why abandoned forms of Muggle school discipline were relevant, which led Harry into a side lecture about the life spans of witches and wizards, and how they kept much of the Wizarding World within the Victorian age. 

The kids from magical families thought that losing points or scrubbing cauldrons in detention was far less barbaric (and far better) then getting beaten by a Muggle teacher…despite Filch’s mutterings, nobody had ever heard of a sibling or parent getting caned at Hogwarts (none of them considered the possibility of post-punishment memory modification, so the point held).

It was this sort of balanced “it could be worse” perspective that was carried by the First Year Gryffindors into their first Potions lesson. Once Snape began to speak, they decided that it could have been far, far worse, for the Professor wasn’t very adversarial at all. There were a few snide comments made when roll was taken, and he tried to take a run at “Hogwarts Newest Celebrity Seeker,” with some trivia, but didn’t push once Harry correctly and calmly answered his questions. 

Oh, sure, points were lost for “cheekiness” when the young wizard stated that he had never personally gutted a goat, so the most likely place that he would find a bezoar was in the emergency first aid kit that he “hoped was on hand for these Potions lessons”, but that was almost understandable. Generally speaking, both student and instructor sparred lightly, and followed the pre-match instructions provided by their respective corners… 

"Keep your hands up, don’t throw the first punch, and remember that this is the first round of a very long fight.” 

And thus the “first round” of Potions and the first week of instruction ended with no knockdowns.

If only second week of classes had gone as smoothly. 

oo00OO00oo 

Madame Hooch thought it rather pointless for the new Gryffindor Seeker to run through her Flying Class as if he didn’t know the first thing about brooms. So when the time came for the First Year Lions and Snakes to join her on the pitch, she asked Harry Potter to be her assistant for the day. The green-eyed wizard shrugged his shoulders and agreed...it wouldn’t be the first time that an instructor asked for his help tutoring classmates.

Harry ignored the quietly-voiced comments coming from some of the Slytherins about being an apple polisher. Theodore Nott (who had quickly taken up the role of chief ponce that most assumed Draco Malfoy would step into) was particularly scathing. The object of these comments paid no mind…not only were they petty, they were poorly-hidden attempts to goad him into trouble. And while Harry was only half-joking about his desire to break his Dad’s detention record, he wanted to do that on his terms, not anyone else’s.

The Gryffindor students were far more polite and encouraging…especially Lavender, once she spied Harry’s teaching methods. 

“Oh, Professor Potter, could you help me, please?” she asked sweetly. 

Harry nodded, and said he’d be there momentarily, as he helped Hermione balance with an arm wrapped around her waist. 

“Right, you’re doing great,” he told the bushy-haired witch with a smile. “I’m going to let go, now, and I just want you to try and hover…work on that balance. Once I get Lavender off the ground I’ll be back, okay?” 

Hermione gave a nervous nod as her eyes bore down on her white-knuckled grip.

“There you go…you got it!,” Harry said reassuringly, as he took a step back. “Just relax, and remember that you’re in command of your mag….” 

“Oh, Harry, don’t….!” the bushy-haired witch screeched, as she closed her eyes and lost her balance.

Hermione’s ankles reflexively locked together even as she maintained the deathgrip on the front of her handle. With the broom still hovering three feet off the pitch, the result was an unintentional, yet perfectly executed, sloth grip roll. 

Harry dived towards the Muggleborn witch and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’ve got you, Hermione,” he said. “Let your legs drop to the ground.” 

“But I don’t want anyone to see me fall!” she protested weakly. 

“You also don’t want the boys to see any more of your shorts, do you?” 

Hermione’s eyes opened wide. The Hogwarts school uniform didn’t allow for witches to wear trousers in class, even during flying lessons (it was “unbecoming” according to Victorian attitudes). Fearful of boys getting upskirt views whilst airborne, Hermione had therefore layered a pair of black Muggle athletic shorts underneath her skirt and robes, and these shorts (and her bare legs) were now in full view of the class. 

The amount of displayed leg, while modest by Muggle standards, drew some lewd comments from the Slytherin wizards, who took advantage of the fact that Madame Hooch was busy trying to keep Tracy Davis from flying into the empty Ravenclaw stands. Hermione quickly reached for her hemlines and unlocked her ankles. But Harry wasn’t prepared for this reaction, so he lost his balance and ended up pulling his friend down on top of him…with her robes still hiked up above her waist and her thighs straddling his. 

One of the pureblood Slytherins, not content to mock and ridicule based on the presented situation, quietly cast an “Accio” charm that yanked Hermione’s shorts off of her legs and sent them flying towards the spell caster. The clever wizard then ducked behind Dean Thomas, so that his face intercepted the garment’s flight path.

While some classmates tracked the flying shorts, most focused on what had been left behind…Hermione’s pink bikini-string knickers, which had ridden up high in the back, and left most of her bum cheeks exposed. 

The class then descended into chaos, with lots of pushing and shoving by those hoping for a view of Hermione’s bits (sad to say, those jostling for position included the other Gryffindor males). Another Slytherin added to Hermione’s embarrassment by casting a sticking charm onto the hem of her robes, which kept her from covering herself. When Harry realized what had happened he rolled over on top of Hermione. While this move concealed her bum, it also placed the two in an even more suggestive missionary position, with his clothed body coming to rest in between her bared and spread legs. 

It took a few seconds for Parvati Patil to realize what was happening, and to land her broom and throw her school robes over Harry and Hermione. A few seconds more were needed for Harry to carefully wiggle off of Hermione without revealing any more skin than she’d already shown. And more than a few seconds were required for Madame Hooch to restore order. During all of these seconds, every Slytherin moved about the pitch and either cast Accio spells on random objects with their wands, or had one of their House mates do the casting for them. 

The actions taken by these students made it impossible to sort out (with a level of certainty sufficient for Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore) who had been positioned behind Dean Thomas, and who might have cast the spell…when Prior Incantato revealed the Accio spell on every Slytherin’s wand (even Tracy Davis, who'd been far away from the point of attack), they simply claimed that they had been practicing summoning charms in their Common Room prior to class.

One of the Seventh-Year Slytherin Prefects was all too happy to corroborate that fanciful alibi. 

Hermione was devastated and felt completely humiliated by the cruel act. Harry was furious…especially when the Slytherins got away with it. He demanded that pensieve memories be collected by the Headmaster to identify the culprits, only to be rebuffed…first by “boys will be boys,” and then (when he pushed) with the legal observation that he had no standing to make that request. And as the shorts had ended up on a Muggleborn boy’s face, and as there were several purebloods “witnesses” that claimed that it had been Hermione herself who had pulled down her pants…under Ministry rules she couldn’t even challenge those claims and request that pensieve memories be reviewed (not that she was at all anxious for anyone to watch the incident over and over again). 

The entire Castle knew what had happened by dinnertime, and been told a whole range of stories (in varying degrees of explicitness) about Harry and Hermione “shagging” on the Quidditch pitch. The jeers and catcalls followed Hermione relentlessly.  One of the cruelest came  from a Fourth-Year Slytherin witch, whoasked if her knickers really were the same shade of pink as her bits (despite the fact that she’d only had parts of her bum exposed, ).

It soon got to the point where the other First Year Gryffindor girls began to protectively surround her, rather the Girl-Who-Lived, and by the end of the week Hermione had stopped venturing out of her room altogether other than for classes (her dorm mates brought plates of food from the Great Hall). 

Harry’s Welsh connection within Slytherin knew that he wanted names, but also knew that Snape was ready to pounce on the young Gryffindor at the slightest hint of revenge. This made the black-haired wizard’s sense of failure all the greater…he had taken Hermione under his wing, but hadn’t been able to save her from undeserved humiliation. His parents were just as upset when he wrote home about the incident (although Lily was quick to point out to James that he had done something similar to Snape back in the day), but the Slytherin students and their Head of House had pulled together well enough to keep the Board from questioning Dumbledore’s actions (or lack of action). Harry had also written to Sirius, asking for help, but had only gotten two cryptic replies back. 

One said, “Patience, Young Grasshopper.” 

The second read, “Allow the Dog His Day." 

A few days after Flying Class, the First-Year Gryffindor girls found out about Hermione’s birthday, and told Harry. He decided that he had to do something to raise her spirits, and wrote home asking for advice. Based on a very helpful suggestions, Harry steered Hermione and her dorm mates down into the dungeons after classes ended on her birthday, and ticked a pear. 

The girls laughed nervously when Lavender offered to let Harry squeeze some melons instead (made only half in jest).  The laughter faded once the portrait swung open and they were provided their first view of the Hogwarts Kitchens. And of the Hogwarts House-Elves, who had prepared a small birthday feast and baked Hermione a cake. 

The Muggleborn witch smiled for the first time in a week in response to Harry’s thoughtful gesture. As she sat down at the provided table and thanked the cooks, then started in on a celebratory meal. That smile immediately disappeared, however, once she learned about House-Elf slavery...she got so riled up that she forgot the cake and began to pace about the kitchen ranting about wizarding world injustices. 

Fortunately, another Muggleborn witch who had been the smartest of her generation had anticipated this response, and sent her son a letter to give to the birthday girl (along with a small gift, in case he hadn’t already gotten one).

This wasn’t the first correspondence between Lily and Hermione…the two had exchanged two sets of letters over the previous week in which the older witch expressed her sympathies, even as she confirmed certain truths about the unfair treatment of Muggleborns within the wizarding world. And it was fortunate that these letters had engendered a level of trust within the younger witch…or else she would have never believed what Lily had written…that House-Elves needed to be bound, either to a family or to Hogwarts, or else they would eventually lose their magic and die. 

Lily’s letter calmed Hermione just enough to allow her to sit down and interview the kitchen staff about their bound magic, and their living and working conditions. They all confirmed the necessity of the binding, but admitted that Hogwarts House-Elves were generally treated much better than those bound to some pureblooded families. This focused Hermione’s sense of outrage…away from notions of freedom from slavery, and towards efforts to better the lives and working conditions of every House-Elf. 

And in this manner, Hermione’s birthday party did more to break her out of her funk than Harry or any of her dorm mates could have reasonably expected. Sure, she’d been horribly embarrassed, but what was that when compared to the plight of maltreated House-Elves? She therefore braved the taunts and catcalls and spent her free time in the Library (where she did research) and in the Great Hall (where she quietly began to proselytize). The purebloods who heard of her efforts thought them ridiculously stupid, and began to mock her for her ideas, rather than her knickers. But that was the kind of mockery that Hermione could easily weather and ignore, as it was for a good cause. 

oo00OO00oo 

As September flowed into October, and the days became shorter and crisper, the Flying Class was thought of less and less, and the Quidditch team practiced more and more. Oliver really fancied the notion that his team had a shot of winning the Cup, but the first match would decide it all. He therefore worked Harry and his teammates through relentless practice sessions, no matter the weather.

Wood’s team expected this type of regimen…but what it didn't expect was the announcement made four weeks into training that he was adding The-Girl-Who-Lived to the roster as a reserve. The surprise came not because she wasn’t a decent flyer (which was obvious soon enough), but because she hadn’t originally tried out for the team.

The Gryffindor captain explained that he thought no one who had attended the trials was worthy of training time (save for Harry, of course). But he still thought it important to have a backup in case of game-day injuries, or pre-game preemptory detentions, and said that he understood Daphne’s initial reluctance as an effort to avoid even more notoriety than she already “enjoyed.” 

(What Wood didn’t explain was that the suggestion had come directly from the Hogwarts Headmaster, for reasons that Ollie didn’t know and Dumbledore didn’t provide.) 

Daphne Greengrass was taller than the average First-Year witch, but shorter and lighter than anyone else on the team. She also had yet to develop, so her chest matched Wood’s ideal of what a Seeker’s profile should look like. This meant that The-Girl-Who-Lived spent most of their training time with Harry…Ollie’s “secret plan” was to have Daphne play Seeker in case a reserve was needed. If she were to replace Harry, then nothing else would change. If one of the witches was injured, Harry would shift to the Chaser line, and if they needed a Beater, then Angelina would pick up a bat and Harry would take her place. 

Oliver Wood couldn’t imagine a scenario in which he’d need to be replaced, so there was no contingency for a reserve Keeper. 

Harry wasn’t terribly upset with these roster moves, even though it meant that he’d be the one most likely benched if he performed poorly during their first match. He knew how to play Chaser…his father had played that position on his house team, and tossed Quaffles with him for years. Timing and formation signals needed to be worked on, but Harry was a quick learner, and Katie, Alicia and Angelina were very, very helpful instructors.

Training for Seeker with Daphne also gave him an opportunity to get to know the witch better than he already did. She was still incredibly shy, but there was intensity and focus revealed whenever she mounted up and began looking for the Snitch. Daphne also knew the position…she was the one, for example, that gave Harry tips on how to pull off a successful Wronski Feint. The-Girl-Who-Lived explained by noting that she’d spent a lot of time in the air with Cedric Diggory, who played Seeker for Hufflepuff. This seemed like a reasonable explanation, as she’d been very friendly with the Fourth Year whenever they met in the hallways, or library, or Great Hall. It would have made even more sense had Harry and his teammates been allowed to put two and two together and figure out that Cedric was Daphne’s adopted brother, but such was the power behind the Fidelius Charm that protected that secret. 

oo00OO00oo 

Harry and Hermione were holed up in the back of the library on the afternoon of Halloween, bandying acronyms back and forth that didn’t make one think of vomit, when Madame Pince swung by and asked why they weren’t already at the Halloween Feast. The bushy-haired witch bit her lip and offered a feeble excuse that the librarian didn’t accept. Madame Pince had quickly grown to like the First Year Muggleborn, and stated that there would be plenty of time within the month of November to advocate for House-Elf rights. She then gave Harry a wink, assumed that he was only there because he fancied Hermione, and made a teasing quip about the Feast being a wonderful setting for a first date. This got both students blushing, and eager to leave the library (which was the librarian’s goal all along).

Questions of dating aside, Harry tried to convince Hermione along the way to the Feast that she did deserve to have some fun. And if he couldn’t convince her on that point, then she should consider it an educational field trip…an opportunity to observe firsthand just how differently All Hollow’s Eve was celebrated within the Wizarding World. 

When Hermione entered the gaily decorated Great Hall, she was taken in by the decorations and festive spirit. Hagrid’s pumpkins were huge, and everyone within the crowded hall seemed to be enjoying themselves. Unfortunately, there were a few who had been waiting for Harry and Hermione…a few who were looking for a laugh that was far more shadenfreude that celebratory. So just as the two were about to join their housemates at the Gryffindor table, a spell was cast, and a complex prank revealed. 

Somebody had either had a magical camera with them during the infamous Flying Class, or taken pictures within a pensieved memory of the event. And that same person (or an accomplice) had managed to project this magical photograph onto the surface of every one of the pumpkin decorations. It was essentially a looped seven-second long video clip, played over and over.

…Hermione loses her shorts, and reveals pink Muggle-style knickers that have ridden high and gathered as if she was wearing a thong. Hermione throws her hands back to cover her bum. Loses her balance and falls down onto Harry so that they’re almost nose-to-nose. Harry tries to help by rolling over on top of her, and lands in a missionary position with his crotch pressed against the front of her knickers, and her bare legs spread wide and in the air. Hermione loses her shorts, and reveals pink Muggle-style knickers that have ridden high… 

The two late arrivals to the party watched themselves “on screen” with a state of shock that was shattered by the derisive laughter and cat calls from the Slytherin table. Hermione burst into tears and rushed out of the Hall. Harry, thinking he’d be able to find her easy enough, stayed in the hope of ferreting out who was laughing loudest, or whether there was help from the Head Table (recognizing the “prank” as some very advanced magic).

It was at this point in time that Professor Quirrel decided to join the party. He entered the Hall, calmly announced that there was a Troll in the Castle, and fell to the ground in a mock feint. Unfortunately, there was far too much noise and far too much focus on the looping video for anyone to notice him. After impatiently waiting for a response, the DADA instructor opened his eyes, looked around, and suddenly “got better.” He then stood up and cast a Sonorous charm that ensured that his repeat performance would be noticed. 

Harry Potter bolted past Quirrel and was out the door before the possessed wizard hit the floor a second time…the last thing he wanted was Hermione to come face-to-face with that kind of danger alone. His first thought was that she’d head for the Tower, but he wasn’t certain, so he drew out his wand and cast a “Point me Hermione,” charm that led in a different direction. 

Two more “Point-me’s” were used to get him to a point where that spell was (unfortunately) no longer needed. Harry could now hear the screams and shouts of a very frightened girl. He ran as fast as he could towards those screams…and even faster when his nose caught a coincidental whiff of “fresh” Troll. He didn’t notice the tightness in his scalp and lower back as adrenaline surged through his veins, and wouldn’t have cared if he had. Hermione was in grave danger, and sod the secrets. 

The trail of screams and foul smells led him to the door of a girl’s lavatory, and he burst inside without regard to risk or propriety.

“HARRY! HELP!” cried a very frightened First Year. 

The young wizard immediately spied his friend hiding under the last of a row of wash basins…a row that was being methodically destroyed by the wooden club of an twelve-foot tall Mountain Troll. His demon side leapt into control, and horns burst up through his hair while four thick tentacles blasted out from his lower back.  The new limbs shred his robes and underclothing along the way.

The eleven-year old demi-demon, now naked save for his boots, roared and shot his rapidly growing limbs out towards the noisome beast. The first two tentacles flew towards the Troll’s wrists, and pinned them back against the lavatory wall. A third tentacle wrapped itself around the fat end of the club and tried to rip if free of the attacker’s grip, and the fourth made for the Troll’s neck and coiled.

Pressure from the coiled tentacle cut off the Troll’s air supply. It tried to ease this chokehold by letting go of the club and reaching for its neck. Demon-Harry then let go of the Troll’s wrists and pulled back his new limbs to provide clearance for the tentacle that now freely held a six-foot long club.

The first swing was up in between the Mountain Troll’s legs, ensuring that there wouldn’t be any baby Troll nappies in the beast’s future. The monster howled, and doubled over in pain. This provided a clear shot for the second swing, which came crashing down upon the back of the monster’s head. The Troll crashed down to the floor unconscious. 

Demon-Harry silently held the club over the prone form for a few seconds, ready to beat it down if its head popped up. This vigil was interrupted by a very small voice. 

“Harry?” 

The young demi-demon whirled around, ready to defend his friend against another attack. But there was just his friend…a friend who was staring right back at him.

Staring at his two horns, and four tentacles, and six-pack abs… 

Staring at his hairless prepubescent bits. 

Hermione’s mind crashed, and she fainted onto the tiled floor. 

Harry looked down towards where his friend had last gazed, swore loudly, and blushed in embarrassment (as much as a blue-tinged demi-demon could blush). This mood-killer also caused his wits to return to him, and he immediately realized his situation. 

Shoving his embarrassment to the side, Harry used a human hand to cast a repair charm on his tattered robes, and a tentacle to reach for the emergency inhaler that was still housed within a bit of pocket. Two other tentacles shot out towards the robes and held them over the naked boy’s head, while the fourth gathered up the other bits of tattered clothing and flushed them down a loo. Meanwhile, Harry shoved the retrieved inhaler into his mouth and released all three “meals” at once. He then let the robes fall down onto his head, and snaked his two human arms through the sleeves. 

Cries coming down the hallway and through the opened door warned Harry that he’d soon have company. He retracted the still visible tentacles as best he could underneath his repaired robes, and mussed up his hair to cover the nubs of horn on his brow. That left only a few seconds for the demi-demon to come up with a barely plausible explanation, and to cast a levitation charm on one of the broken basins. 

The horns and limbs disappeared just as Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall arrived on the scene and demanded an explanation.

Harry said that he was worried about Hermione’s safety when the troll’s presence was announced, and tracked her there following “Point-me” spells and the sounds of her screams. There wasn’t time to find a Professor to provide assistance, so he tried to get the Troll’s attention away from Hermione. When the Troll came towards him, his only thought was to use the “Wingardium Leviosa” spell that they’d recently been taught in charms class. But then he lost focus and the spell failed. Luckily, the club was directly over the Troll’s head, so when the spell failed it was knocked unconscious. 

Snape was immediately suspicious of the explanation, but a check of Harry’s wand was consistent with his story. McGonagall was at Hermione’s side, and was about to revive her when Harry called out for her to wait. He explained that she was already unconscious when he arrived at the scene, and that she wouldn’t know how the Mountain Troll was defeated. Harry then humbly stated that he really didn’t want any credit, or points awarded for what he did, and preferred that Hermione think that it was Hogwarts staff that had rescued her.

When his Head of House asked why he thought this important, Harry explained that Hermione’s trust in the ability of the Hogwarts staff to keep her safe and secure had been shaken by the Flying Class incident. Laying it on thick, he then expressed fears that his friend might feel completely unsafe if she knew not only that a Troll had gotten inside the castle, but that she had been saved from certain death by a classmate, rather than her Headmaster, or Head of House. He then slyly added his fears that other students and their parents might think similarly if word got out.

The response to this explanation was mixed. McGonagall believed Harry (for the most part) and focused on Harry’s concern for Hermione’s well being…she’d never admit it, but as his story unfolded she was hearing “The Wedding March” in the back of her mind, and comparing Hermione favorably against Lily.

Snape couldn’t believe that Harry was actually trying to steer clear of fame, or at least House points. He expressed that disbelief, and openly declared Harry a liar. 

This left it to Dumbledore to break the tie. He viewed Harry more as a cagey teen-aged Slytherin than a First Year Lion, and shared Snape’s suspicions that there was more to the story than the boy was sharing. He also wondered why Harry was gift-wrapping a cover story…the young wizard must have know how poorly this incident could play out not only in the press, but before his father and the other Board of Governors. So why was the boy not seeking to press this advantage, or requesting an obvious boon?

The son of James and Lily had quickly become a puzzle, wrapped inside of an enigma…but there wasn’t sufficient time to solve that problem with a castle full of upset students and an unconscious troll at their feet. But there was still time to do a bit of maneuvering…. 

Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled as he thanked Harry for his quick thinking and humble attitude, and accepted the young wizard’s offered version of events. The Headmaster then suggested that it was Professor Snape who had gotten to the scene first and saved the Muggleborn witch (he was, after all, more fleet of foot then either the Headmaster or his Assistant). 

Harry’s eyes narrowed in response to the parry. He worried his lip with his teeth, then let out a breath and nodded. He then volunteered to be the one to carry Hermione to the Infirmary, where Madame Pomfrey would be best able to revive her, and attend to her medical needs. This, the green-eyed wizard noted, would allow those far more capable than he to provide their undivided attention towards removing the Mountain Troll from the Castle. It also would provide opportunity for any students that happen along to see the Hogwarts Staff in firm control of the situation. 

Snape immediately protested, and argued that he wanted to hear, “the Mud….erm, Muggleborn’s side of the story” for himself.  But Dumbledore stayed Snape’s vitriol with a curt shake of his head. The Headmaster then nodded at Harry, thanked the young wizard for his quick thinking and fine ideas, and asked if he would require any assistance transporting Hermione to the Infirmary. 

Harry shook his head, and said that he’d be fine on his own. He then walked over to his friend’s position, picked her up as if she weighed no more than a bag of crisps, and carried her away from the scene. 

Once the First Year rounded the hallway corner, he let out a deep sigh of relief. This brought Hermione a bit closer to consciousness…enough to give her control of arms that reached up to Harry’s neck and pulled him close. 

“Harry?” she asked groggily, her face buried into his chest. 

“Ssshhh,” he whispered. “Let’s get you to Poppy, and then we can talk, okay?” 

Harry didn’t see Hermione’s eyes dart open, but he could feel her immediately tense up. He kept walking as if he didn’t though, and Hermione soon relaxed, as if her brain wasn’t traveling a million miles a minute with questions. That relaxed state soon grew more genuine, when all of those thoughts and questions were pressed down by the incredible sense of safety that the young witch felt whilst being carried in Harry’s arms. She snuggled closer, and wondered if it would feel any different if her Champion had been carrying her in his tentacles. Harry replied with his own unwitnessed smile, and held Hermione tight in his (human) arms. 

And from that moment forward, Hermione Granger became Harry Potter’s closest friend and confidant. There are some things you can’t share without ending up trusting each other, and holding your tongue after someone saves your life by changing into demonic form and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.