Harry got to his feet, shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he'd just done.

"Nice one, Ron," I said, giving him a slight smile. "And you, Harry."

"Is it — dead?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling.

"I don't think so," Harry said. "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

"Urgh — troll bogies," he said, wiping it on the troll's trousers.

The sudden sound of a slamming door and footsteps made the four of us look up. I hadn't realised what a racket we'd been making, but of course, someone downstairs must've heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall came 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 Harry, Ron, and me, angrier than I'd ever seen her before. Her lips were thin and white. I bowed my head slightly, trembling, as she she spoke.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" she demanded, with cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your common room?"

I tried to formulate a response that wouldn't lead to punishment, but all my brain could come up with was 'it's my fault' and 'I'm sorry'.

Then, a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll, because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I've read all about them."

Ron dropped his wand, and I glanced up in surprise. Hermione Granger, telling an outright lie to a professor?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Pandora tried to get me out, while Harry stuck his wand up its nose, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and get anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

That much, at least, was true.

"Well, in that case..." Professor McGonagall said, staring at the four 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 not only me, but also Harry and Ron out of trouble. It was as if my father had told me he loved me.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," Professor McGonagall said. "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 feast in their common rooms."

Hermione nodded, and left without saying another word. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and me.

"Well, I still think you were lucky, but not many students 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 chamber, and didn't speak at all until we'd climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the stench of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should've got more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's," Harry said.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron said. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if you hadn't driven her to tears earlier," I reminded him.

Ron frowned. "I guess not."

We reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," Harry said, and we climbed through the portrait hole.

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, she, Ron, and Harry all said, "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates. I grinned, following after them.

"Harry, Ron, come sit with us," I offered, once we'd all piled our plates with food.

The two of them looked at each other, shrugged, then came and sat down in two of the armchairs by us.

"You know what I don't get?" I said, after a moment's pause. "Why wasn't Quirrell at the feast when it started? Why was he in the dungeons in the first place?"

"And why was Snape going to the third floor?" Harry added.

"There's something even more confusing, though," I said, frowning as I thought back to it.

"What's that?"

"When Quirrell ran into the Great Hall, you know what he said? 'Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know.' Just like that."

"So?" Ron asked, as he ate a jacket potato.

"Well, where was his stutter?" I glanced over at Hermione. "You probably know more about this than I do, but don't stutters get worse when you're scared?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then said, "They do tend to, yes."

"Maybe Snape's trying to get at what's under the trapdoor?" Harry suggested. "He could've got Quirrell to help him or something. Is there a spell to get people to do what you want?"

I nodded.

"The Imperius Curse," I said. "One of the Unforgivables. Very, very Dark magic. I doubt Snape would've used it."

"What're the Unforgivables?"

"The Unforgivable Curses are some of the Darkest magic," I started to explain, making sure to keep my voice down so nobody would overhear. "There's three of them — the Imperius Curse to control, the Cruciatus Curse to torture, and the Killing Curse to... well, kill, obviously. The use of any one of them will get you sentenced to life in Azkaban — that's the wizarding prison — if you get caught, unless you were under the Imperius Curse yourself at the time." I shook my head. "Even Snape wouldn't use any of them, I'm sure."

"Why would someone invent those?" Hermione asked, her voice a little higher than usual.

I shrugged. "It's magic, Mione. There's a spell for every purpose." Then, I turned back to the boys, and said, "Have either of you got any theories on what might be below the trapdoor?"

"Harry thinks it could be the thing Hagrid took from Gringotts when they went to get his school stuff," Ron said, and Harry nodded.

"A small package, about two inches long, wrapped in brown paper," Harry explained. "Hagrid told me there wasn't a safer place than Gringotts to keep things, except perhaps Hogwarts. It was the only thing in a fairly high security vault."

"'The vault in question had in fact been emptied earlier that same day'," I said under my breath, my mind working away. "Harry, did you hear there was a break-in at Gringotts? Seemed like the work of a very Dark witch or wizard."

Harry shook his head.

"It happened on the first of August, the same day we met at Madam Malkin's," I explained. "And then on the second, the Prophet reported that nothing had been taken, because the vault had been emptied that same day!"

"So you're saying—"

"Your suspicions are almost certainly correct. And they give us something to work with if we want to find out what the thing was."

"How?" Ron and Hermione asked, at the same time.

"Harry, do you remember which vault the package was in?" I asked.

"Vault 713," he said, almost immediately.

"Then we could potentially see if we can trace who the vault belongs to," I said. "Chances are, it's not Hogwarts."

The other three all nodded.

"Let's do it."

***
A/N: hhhhh sorry for not posting this last Friday — I'd run out of pre-written chapters, and it took me a while to figure out how to write the end of this one  :/

Also, tysm for 9k reads! 😊🖤

Word count: 1339