“Meh.
My dad would kill me if I died before him.” Hari gave a jaunty wave to the head table and walked out the double doors at the entrance to the hall.
“Did .
.
.
did Dumbledore just wave back to him?” hissed Tracy.
“Uh-huh.”
“Round the twist,” repeated Pansy.
X
X
Hari hummed to himself as he walked through two secret passageways and up a staircase that apparently led to the dungeons.
It was shorter than the route the Stutterfaces had taken.
He was also walking on the walls to keep from getting bored.
It was funny, really.
He didn’t exactly hate Granger because that would require caring enough about her.
He just found her silly, stupid, and annoying.
He had to admit, though, that this was at least in part because she was twelve.
What little experience he had with people around his age had led him to believe that he was unusual (although his new group of friends might well be on their way to his version of normality).
And here he was, heading to save her life.
He could run, but he was making better time than the Troll.
It kept stopping to hit the walls.
His father had told him to protect girls.
Civilian ones, anyway.
Kunoichi were on their own.
Uncle Hidan objected, but that was because Uncle Hidan thought everyone should die.
Most of his Uncles were in agreement with his father.
Uncle Pein certainly was, and Uncles Deidara and Sasori sometimes.
Uncle Tobi—most of the time—was the type to save every princess he saw.
Even Uncle Kisame thought that women were supposed to be protected if they were civilians.
Okay, maybe not actually protected, but he didn’t actually aim at them.
On the other hand, his Uncles had a near pathological hatred of children, having all declared that one was enough, thank you very much.
There was a scream as the Troll kicked in the door of the girl’s bathroom.
Hari dropped out of the illusionary part of the ceiling and landed just inside the bathroom.
There was probably something wrong with a school that had secret passages into the ceiling of a girl’s bathroom.
Then again, usually the passage led to the oubliette.
“Turn around please,” he said.
The Troll whirled, club raised.
“Thank you.” False Darkness exploded from his hands and blasted the Troll off its feet and into the wall, destroying sinks and filling the air with electrically charged mist as Hari kept up the attack, using one hand after the other to fire more shots to drive the Troll almost a foot into the stonework.
“Let’s be sure, hm?” He waved his hand, turning a piece of the debris into a steel spike a foot long and hefted it, flinging it into the Troll’s head, pinning it to the wall through its skull.
“Did you kill it?” the small voice sounded like it had been crying.
“Yep.” Hari grinned and turned to face the girl, eyes close as usual.
“I’m hoping Professor Stutterfaces shows up so I can show him I was right.”
Hermione poked her head around the side of the stall she’d been hiding in.
“Lightning and a spike in the head?”
“Exactly.
Good memory there.” Hari leaned against the wall.
“Oh good, the faculty are on the way.
I wonder how many points Professor Greasy will try and take from me this time?
I mean, we’re at zero, so I can’t imagine it’ll do much .
.
.”
“Why don’t you care about losing points?”
“Do you actually want to know?” asked Hari.
“Or do you just want to tell me I’m wrong.”
Hermione sniffled a little.
“Both?
Or at least both if your reason is bad.”
“Fair enough.
I don’t care about the cup.
It’s really about that simple, honestly.
It has no value except to show that we got it.
Besides, considering how many points I lost for being polite in my Potions class, I find that it pretty much killed any interest I might have had.”
“I .
.
.” Hermione paused.
“I knew that you were right.
I remember all our books.
It was wrong.” It was clearly costing the girl to admit that the teacher might be wrong to punish someone for being polite and correct.
She took a deep breath.
“I should care about the points.
They’re a way to show I have worth.
But .
.
.
but they’re about pride in my house.
I hate my house.
It’s supposed to be the house of the brave and the good, but they’re all petty and small minded and mean!
“I wanted to be in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw because Professor Dumbledore was in that house and he’s the greatest wizard in recent memory.
And all the books I read say that Gryffindor is the house of the light and good wizards come from it.
But no one likes me.
It’s just like school before!
I tried to be helpful and people got mad because I knew how to do something they were having trouble with!
“I hate my house.
They pick on me and no one has a kind word for anyone who isn’t like them.
I’m smarter than my peers, just like always, and they hate me for it, just like always.
I didn’t want to be smarter than them.
I didn’t ask to have eidetic memory!
But it’s not like I can shut it off.
And instead of asking for help or even letting me be helpful, they berate me for it!
“It’s the same everywhere I go.
I try to be helpful and instead of even politely telling me to go away, they’re mean.
I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend, at least not one who isn’t an adult!
And now the whole house at my boarding school hates me and I have to sleep in the same room as those petty, spiteful girls I’ve always had to deal with!”