"Impossible!" Malfoy was quite furious one Sunday morning, storming into the library with the angriest scowl I'd seen yet. He was so furious, in fact, that his bag nearly knocked my homework off the table. I blinked up at him, confused as to what he could possibly be so upset about.

The last time I'd seen him almost this irate was when he'd seen Harry and Ron at breakfast the morning after the dog incident and realized that they hadn't been expelled. Malfoy was always a bit of a drama queen — it probably wasn't a big deal.

"What's gotten your wand in a knot?" I asked him tranquilly, not looking up from my Potions paper.

"Potter's gotten himself a Nimbus 2000!" He snapped irritably.

"Has he now?" I wasn't particularly concerned. I figured maybe if I was calmer then it would calm him down too.

"First years aren't allowed to have them!" He sat down furiously in the chair across from mine. I suddenly remembered that we'd finished our partner assignment last week, so Malfoy really had no reason to be there. I assumed he had sought me out to rant, and the idea greatly amused me.

"He's on the Quidditch team, thanks to you," I said matter-of-factly. "Therefore, he needs a broom to play."

Malfoy huffed at me. "I'm surprised you're not more upset about this."

"Yes, well, it won't be my team that will be losing the Quidditch Cup this year," I continued to write. "You, however, have a perfectly good reason to be upset."

"Slytherin has gone undefeated for years," Malfoy said smugly. "What makes you think Potter will change that?"

"You and I might not particularly like him right now, but that doesn't mean that we can't acknowledge that he has some talents." I finished my paper and finally looked up. I regretted it almost immediately — since I'd noticed them, I couldn't help be pulled in by the slate grey of his eyes. I'd never seen a color like that in anyone's before.

"We'll shake on it," said Malfoy. If he'd noticed my lapse of mind he didn't say anything, instead extending a hand. I took it in mine and shook it firmly. It was very cold — almost like ice.

"Are you sick? You feel warmer than you're supposed to be," he told me. I wasn't sure what to say to this, so I raised an eyebrow. His ears went slightly pink at the ends again. "It's probably because I've gotten so used to the dungeons."

"Gryffindor tower is quite warm," I agreed. In fact, I was so warm that I'd vetoed my robes for the day and was just wearing my vest, blouse, and tie with the sleeves rolled up.

"I don't know how you can stand that," he shook his head. "All that heat. And all those buffoons you have for housemates."

I shrugged. "Sometimes, things just grow on you."

He looked at me for a good while before speaking again.

"Huh, so that's what it's called."

The next time I talked to Malfoy was Halloween morning. Things with Ron and Harry weren't as bad, but we still didn't talk much. Hermione was supportive as ever, and in fact it was with her that I encountered Malfoy in the hallway. He nodded at me, but his eyes shifted over to Hermione and he grimaced. He seemed to find her annoying, which was strange to me because I thought the two of us to be quite similar. Maybe it was because she'd called him a "slimy lipless skink" when he got points for answering the same question as she did two weeks ago.

"I'm really starting to dislike this Apollo character," he said to me. We stopped in the hallway. Nobody else was around except for the three of us. Hermione pretended not to eavesdrop, suddenly taking great interest in the beginnings of a storm forming outside.

"I wasn't really a fan of him either," I said. "He's sort of pretentious."

"I agree," Malfoy nodded. "I've read the one about him and Daphne."

"I mean it was technically Eros' fault—" Hermione began to interject, but a glare from Malfoy shushed her.

"No one asked you, Granger," he scowled. He nodded curtly to me. "I'll see you around."

He turned on his heel and continued to walk away. I frowned at his retreating back. Hermione and I proceeded to Charms. She seemed much more distraught than usual, as Ron had been particularly nasty to her this week, and Harry had done nothing to stand up for her. Malfoy's comment might have nearly pushed her over the edge.

I awkwardly patted her shoulder. If only Malfoy could learn to not be a prick around everyone else. "I'm so sorry about that."

"How can you stand to be around him?" She asked me, frowning as well.

"I've got tough skin from my old school," I told her. "And either way, he doesn't mean half the awful things he says."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you sure?"

I pursed my lips. "No."

We walked the rest of the way to Charms in silence. I sat beside Dean, hoping that maybe he'd have some extra gum for Hermione, but when I asked he said he'd ran out.

We proceeded to do a particularly difficult lesson involving the levitating charm. I'd been partnered up with Dean, and unfortunately, Hermione with Ron. I couldn't tell which one of them was more annoyed by this arrangement. While I watched them bicker, Dean and I had gone right to the lesson.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he muttered. I eyed his wand movements analytically.

"It's flick and then swish," I told him. He nodded.

"Oh, right. Thanks."

He tried again, but to no avail.

"Hm," I said, puzzled. "I'd try, but I wouldn't want to intimidate you."

To my surprise, he laughed. "Is that a challenge?"

I noticed the amber tones in his eyes — quite the opposite of Malfoy's. I'd always known that you could read people by their eyes, but I had found out only that day that each person's held a different feeling. I wondered what mine were.

"It might be," I said with a smirk. He grinned at me.

"Well, then, challenge accepted," he raised his wand and cleared his throat. He tried again, but it didn't work. I did the same, and began the words.

"Wingardi— oh," I blinked, startled. Seamus' feather was alight, and Harry was rapidly putting it out with his hat so that Professor Flitwick wouldn't see. Dean followed my gaze, laughing when he saw it.

"He does this almost every lesson," he seemed amused. "This is a new record for him — usually it takes about five minutes."

I laughed. I hadn't talked to Dean much besides to ask him for gum, but he was turning out to be rather likable.

I tried the spell once, but there was no result. I figured I was too distracted. But the more I thought about discontinuing my distraction the more distracted I became. Once I saw Hermione do it (much to Ron's disdain) I took a final breath before trying again.

"Wingardium Leviosa." The feather floated a foot or so into the air before I brought it neatly back down. Dean nodded at me, appearing impressed, and applauded.

"Nice work," he told me.

"I know," I said, grinning. He rolled his eyes at me, and I laughed. "You'll get there too, you just have to really focus on it."

He tried again, and this time, the feather lifted half a foot or so before falling. He seemed proud of himself, so I applauded him too.

"I think I just surprised myself," he laughed. "I usually don't do very well in this class. Maybe you should sit here more often."

I felt something light up inside of me. I had made a friend! This was different from Hermione because she was so much like me, and different from Malfoy because there wasn't really a word for it. Friend seemed too familiar. Enemy was incorrect. Acquaintance too formal. It was just confusing.

I'd missed this feeling, this spark of friendship. I noticed Ron talking to Harry as they began to pack their things. I really missed it.

"I might," I told him, my grin competing with his extremely bright one.

After class, Dean and I were chatting animatedly about Muggle sports when I saw Hermione bump into Harry from ahead of us. I could tell she was crying. I frowned. I noted the uncomfortable look on Ron's face and told Dean that I'd see him later. I marched up to Ron and pushed myself in between him and Harry.

"What is your problem?" I asked him.

"Why do you care?" He replied, though he did seem like he regretted whatever he had said.

"She's my friend," I told him matter-of-factly. "Friends defend each other." I looked to Harry. "Do you have any idea where she went?"

He shook his head. I sighed exasperatedly. I doubled back to Dean and told him about Hermione. Unlike Ron and Harry, he seemed rather concerned.

"I'd seek her out but the castle is massive," I said. "And I'm not very good at consoling people."

"And you'll miss class," he added.

"Well if Hermione skipped, they'll figure out that something is wrong," I shrugged. She was the most unlikely person to miss class. She might have loved learning more than I did.

However, in each of my classes, I couldn't stop staring at her empty seat. I overheard Parvati telling Lavender that she was in the girl's bathroom. After Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was right before dinner, I slipped out of the main corridor and down a staircase.

Upon reaching the bathroom, I knocked on a stall door. I could hear sniffling from the other side. "Hermione, is that you?"

"I'd rather not talk right now," she said, sounding very tearful indeed. I sighed.

"I know you'd have asked me to come if you wanted me here, but I've been worried about you all day and couldn't help myself. What good will it do you to keep crying?" I asked. To my surprise, I heard a small chuckle.

"You're not helping," she said.

"I'm not very good at it, but I'm trying," I said truthfully. The awful smell of the bathrooms was beginning to get to me, almost as though it was growing stronger.

"Do you smell that?" I asked her.

"I can't smell anything right now," she sniffled.

I pinched my nose. "Lucky you."

I heard the door to the girl's bathroom slam, but the stench only got stronger. Suddenly, I found the source. Or rather, it found me.

What looked to be a fully grown mountain troll had appeared. It carried a long, frightening looking club in one slimy, grey hand. I panicked. The smell wasn't allowing me to think straight. My heart raced, trying to make the best decision.

Fight or flight. Leaving Hermione wasn't an option, but I couldn't get her out from the stall in time without a distraction. Fight it was then. But how?

"Obscuro!" I shouted. A blindfold flew over its eyes. Only afterwards did I remember that they couldn't see very well anyways.

The troll growled angrily, attempting to tear away at the blindfold. It rushed towards the place where I'd been, but I ran behind it.

"What's going on?!" Hermione cried from the stall. The troll heard, and began to advance.

"Hermione we've got to get out of here!" I exclaimed. "I know it's gross but climb underneath the stall wall, and quickly! It can't see you but if it hears you it'll crush you."

"What is it—" But Hermione seemed to have noticed it towering over the stalls. She screamed. A loud, blood-curdling one. I sighed.

"What did I just say?" I muttered to myself. Hermione had climbed into the next stall over right as it brought its club down onto where her head would have been. In the back of my mind, I heard the door unlock and footsteps come running in. I turned around, praying it was a teacher, but it was just Ron and Harry. I wasn't sure if I was thrilled or enraged.

"Hermione!" Harry called, throwing a tap against the wall to distract the big thing.

"Oy! Pea brain!" Ron shouted. I took this as a cue, and tried to pull Hermione out.

"We've got to go!" I exclaimed, but she seemed frozen with fear. I watched in slow motion as Harry tackled the troll from behind. Ron used the Levitating Charm to knock it unconscious with it's own club. It fell tumultuously to the ground. We all stared at it for a while. Ron still had his wand up.

"Is it dead?" Asked Hermione, still shaking.

"It takes a lot more than that to kill a troll," I shook my head.

"I think it's just unconscious," said Harry, pulling his wand from it's nose. "Eugh, troll bogies."

There was a sudden slamming, as Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Quirrel all charged into the room. Professor McGonagall looked more furious than I'd ever seen her. Professor Snape was looking between Harry and I with a scowl.

"What on earth were you thinking?" McGonagall looked at us scathingly. Ron still had his wand raised from casting the levitating charm. "You could have been killed! Why aren't you in your dormitories?!"

"Professor, we—" I began to say, but Hermione interrupted me sounding incredibly small.

"They were looking for me," she said, appearing ashamed.

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall frowned.

"I thought I could take the troll on by myself, you know, because I- I've read all about them."

My eyes widened. Ron's arm was still outstretched from before, but at that moment, he dropped his wand. We were all shocked. Hermione was lying to a teacher. Maybe I was a bad influence.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, and Lila blindfolded it, 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 came."

The three of us nodded solemnly, as if this were the truth.

"Well — in that case. . . " Professor McGonagall looked disappointedly to Hermione, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione looked down. I couldn't believe she was taking the fall for Harry and Ron to get them out of trouble.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," Professor McGonagall frowned. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd best hurry to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left the bathroom, looking back at the three of us with a small smile as she rounded the corner.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and I.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years 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."

The three of us looked at each other before scurrying out of the restroom, not saying a word until we were two floors above. The lack of troll odor was a relief.

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grimaced. I shrugged.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's." Harry said, looking meaningfully at me.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron nodded along, giving me the same look. "Though, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if you hadn't caused her to hide in there anyway," I frowned at them. "But I think she really appreciated the conjoined effort. I couldn't have taken it down by myself."

We arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," Harry said, and we entered.

The common room was packed full of people, and rather clamorous. All of the Gryffindor students were eating the food from the banquet, but Hermione stood by the door, waiting for us. Her eyes lit up when she saw the three of us come in. There was an awkward moment before we all said "thanks" and went off to get ourselves some food.

"That was really brave of you," I told her while we were waiting to get food.

"I didn't do anything," she said, talking about the troll, but she knew what I meant. I looked back at Harry and Ron, who were looking back at us as well. Harry sent us a small smile, and waved us over.

"We should go sit with them," I said to her. She looked up and followed my gaze. Harry's grin widened, and Ron began to wave as well.

"Good idea," she smiled. I felt happier than I'd been in a while, and I could tell that she did too.

And from then on, the balance was restored. We were all on good terms again. The hole in my heart was filled.