Halloween

Malfoy's jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw Harry, Ron, and Cheyenne enter the Great Hall the following morning, sleepy from their late-night adventure, but otherwise relatively unharmed and no worse for wear. In fact, by the time Cheyenne met up with the boys in the common room again, they both seemed in better moods, although she couldn't place what could have made them so happy, at least, not at first. When she questioned them, Harry explained that both boys had thought their run-in with the three-headed dog had been a great adventure and they were rather keen to have another. Meanwhile, Harry and Cheyenne were sure to fill Ron in on the package Hagrid had taken from Gringotts and had, presumably, brought to Hogwarts for safe keeping. Naturally, this brought up a rather important question: what exactly was in that package that needed such heavy protection? 

"Either it's something really valuable or really dangerous." Ron said. 

"Maybe it's both?" Harry suggested. 

At this point, all the trio knew for certain was that the mysterious object was not that big, maybe only about two inches in length, but that was about it. Without any further clues or hints, none of them would even begin to guess what it could possibly be. 

As for Neville and Hermione, neither had the slightest interest in digging further into the purpose of the dog or what could be hidden beneath the trapdoor it was guarding after what they had gone through. At this point, the only thing Neville really cared about was staying as far away from that dog as he possibly could. 

And Hermione, well, she was now refusing to speak to either Harry, Ron, or even Cheyenne herself. In either boys' eyes, this was a welcome relief and an added bonus overall, since, to them, she was nothing more than a bossy know-it-all, but for Cheyenne, this was a rather devastating blow... 

In truth, Cheyenne could understand both Neville and Hermione's misgivings about what had happened and, if she was being completely honest, she really had no interest in partaking in another adventure like that one ever again. And yet it was the loss of her new friend that affected her the most; before coming to Hogwarts, Harry and Cheyenne had had no other friends outside each other. Don't get Cheyenne wrong, she loved and cared about him very deeply, she wouldn't trade him for anything, but...it was nice having other friends now as well, ones who could understand them in a way they couldn't one another. They were both growing up and needed friends of the same gender they could turn to when there was something the two of them couldn't talk about. Harry had another boy he could spend time with now, so was it so wrong for Cheyenne to wish to have that with a girl her age too? 

A full week went by before Hermione said a single word to any of them; it was a morning like any other, with the usual flock of owls flooding into the Great Hall to deliver the post, when everyone's attention was caught by two long thin packages being carried by six large screech owls each. Harry and Cheyenne watched in fascination as the owls circled the hall, curious as to what was in those parcels and to whom they were to be delivered. The latter question would quickly be answered when the owls swooped down and, much to their amazement, dropped both parcels down in front of them, knocking each of their plates to the floor. The dozen owls had barely fluttered out of the way when another dropped a letter atop Cheyenne's. 

Exchanging a bewildered look with her best friend, Cheyenne tore the letter open first and held it up so Harry and Ron could read it over her shoulders: 

DO NOT OPEN YOUR PARCELS AT THE TABLE! 

They contain your new Nimbus Two Thousands, but I don't want everyone knowing either of you have a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you both tonight on the Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your first training session. 

Professor McGonagall. 

"Two Nimbus Two Thousands?" Ron groaned enviously under his breath, "I've never even touched one!" 

Quickly snatching the parcels from the table, the trio made a hasty exit out of the hall, wanting to unwrap the broomsticks before they had to go to their first lesson. Unfortunately, however, they would be intercepted by Crabbe and Goyle, who barred their way upstairs, in the Entrance Hall. Malfoy, meanwhile, came up behind them and seized the package Harry was holding, his brow furrowing as he felt what was inside. 

"Broomsticks!" He spat, throwing it back at Harry, his face twisting in an ugly mixture of jealousy and spite, "You're both in for it this time, Powter, first-years aren't allowed brooms!" 

Ron, who'd been glowering at Malfoy throughout the exchange, couldn't hold his tongue. 

"Those aren't any old broomsticks," he straightened his shoulders proudly, as though the brooms were his, "They're Nimbus Two Thousands. And what did you say you've got at home again, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty, right?" Ron snickered, grinning in Harry and Cheyenne's direction, "Comets might look flashy, but they aren't in the same league as the Nimbus." 

"What would you know about it, Weasley?" Malfoy snapped back, narrowing his cold grey eyes, "I bet you couldn't even afford half the handle. 'uppose you and your brothers would have to save up for it, twig by twig." 

Ron's ears turned pink, and he opened his mouth for a retort when Professor Flitwick suddenly appeared at Malfoy's elbow. 

"Not arguing, I hope?" He squeaked, looking between the six students; Malfoy immediately jumped on the chance. 

"Potter and Power've been sent broomsticks, Professor." He told the stout wizard, earning a scowl from Harry and a frown from Cheyenne. 

"Ah yes." Professor Flitwick beamed at Harry and Cheyenne, which caught them off guard, "Professor McGonagall's already told the staff about your special circumstances. What models are they, if you don't mind the inquiry?" 

"Not at all, Professor Flitwick." Cheyenne couldn't hold back the equally brilliant smile that split her lips, ignoring Harry and Ron's stifled laughter at the horrified expression that crossed Malfoy's face, "They're a couple of Nimbus Two Thousands. We should really be thanking Malfoy here, though. If it hadn't've been for him, we wouldn't have our brooms at all." She smiled brightly at Malfoy, who could only stare back with wide eyes, "Thank you, Malfoy, we couldn't have done it without you." 

His eyes flashed as she walked past him and up the stairs while Harry and Ron hurried to catch up, doing their best to smother their laughter at the obvious rage and confusion on their enemy's face. 

"Well, it is true, isn't it?" Cheyenne hummed, her mood significantly improved by the interaction, as the three of them reached the top of the marble staircase. 

"It is." Harry chortled cheerfully, "If Malfoy hadn't've stolen Neville's Remembrall, neither of us would be on the team." 

"So, I suppose the two of you think that's a reward for breaking the rules, hm?" An angry voice said from behind them, causing the trio to pause and turn. Hermione glowered as she stomped up the stairs toward them, eying the packages in Harry and Cheyenne's hands disapprovingly. Cheyenne's hands tightened automatically around hers and she could just manage a weak smile. 

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Harry said before Cheyenne could open her mouth, quirking a brow quizzically. 

"Yes, don't stop now," Ron interjected, "It's really doing us a world of good, you know." 

Hermione huffed and marched away with her nose in the air; Cheyenne watched her go, feeling her good mood quickly evaporate. As much as she was looking forward to playing on the Quidditch team, she knew Hermione was looking out for her...and Harry, to some extent. Cheyenne really had to find a way to make-up with her new friend and fast, before the silence between them drove her completely mad. 

Cheyenne's mind was such a whirlwind of thought and conflicting emotions that she found it rather difficult to concentrate on lessons that day. A part of her was excited at the prospect of seeing her new broom for the first time and going down to the Quidditch pitch that evening for her and Harry's first training session, but there was another part of her that was more concerned with what she could say to Hermione. Would the other girl be willing to patch things up between them? Maybe...if Cheyenne talked to her one on one, without the boys interrupting or making rude comments that set Hermione off...Cheyenne finally decided the best time for that conversation would be at night, in the girls' dormitory. Maybe if Cheyenne was lucky, she could catch Hermione after their training. 

After a quick dinner, Cheyenne joined Harry and Ron upstairs in the Gryffindor common room to finally unwrap their new Nimbuses. 

"Wow," Ron sighed longingly as both brooms rolled onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. 

Harry and Cheyenne both smiled in equal amazement at the sight before them; though neither knew a thing about the different kinds of brooms, they couldn't deny theirs were beautiful. Each broom had a long, sleek mahogany handle polished to a shine and a tail made up of straight, neat twigs; emblazoned at the end of each handle in neat gold lettering was Nimbus Two Thousand.  

At quarter to seven that evening, Harry and Cheyenne left the common room with their new broomsticks, chatting pleasantly about what they could expect in terms of their first bit of training. Since they were still so new to everything, it was more than likely this session would revolve around Wood explaining the rules and their positions on the team. 

A cool breeze swept in from the direction of the lake, bringing with it the sweet scent of crisp autumn leaves and fresh water as they descended the front steps and crossed the lawn toward the Quidditch pitch. Their shadows stretched out across the grass ahead of them, fading slowly with the light of the setting sun as it sank behind the mountains, turning the sky a warm mix of orange and pink bordered by the ribbon of black velvet steadily growing on the eastern horizon. Cheyenne pulled her scarf tighter around her shoulders to stave off a chill as she and Harry walked into the Quidditch stadium for the first time. 

"Wow." She breathed as they paused to take it all in; hundreds of seats rose in stands around the entire pitch, high enough that the audience could see the action. At either end of the oblong field were three golden poles, each with a hoop on the end; they reminded Harry and Cheyenne of those little plastic bubble wands Muggle children played with at home, although each of these poles had to be fifty feet tall at least. 

"Doesn't look like Wood's here yet." Cheyenne scanned the field for the upperclassman before turning back to Harry, "Should we wait for him?" 

"I'm itching to get back in the air." He shifted his broomstick in his hands and swung a leg over the handle, gripping it eagerly. Cheyenne hesitated and glanced over her shoulder, unsure whether it would be a good idea or not, "You coming, Chey?" 

"I dunno, Harry..." 

"Ah, c'mon," Harry kicked off hard from the ground and smirked down at her, "I know you're just as eager to fly as I am. One lap 'round the pitch, I'll race ya. Unless you're scared." 

Cheyenne returned her attention to him and narrowed her eyes, "Oh, baiting me now, are you?" 

"Maybe," Harry chuckled, "Bet I can beat you." 

"Oh, you're so on." Cheyenne swung her leg over her own broom and kicked off from the ground; that wonderful feeling of exhilaration washed over her as she rose to meet Harry, who returned the smile that had subconsciously appeared on her lips before they took off along the pitch. There really was no feeling like this one, Cheyenne couldn't help but think as the pair raced each other, this feeling of complete and utter freedom. She laughed aloud to herself as she weaved through the goalposts and goaded Harry into chasing her around the stands, like they were playing a game of tag in midair. Their Nimbus Two Thousands turned at the slightest touch, going wherever either of them needed. 

"Oi, Potter, Power!" Cheyenne circled around one of the goalposts as Harry shot past her, his fingers just barely grazing the sleeve of her robes as she pulled her broomstick to a stop, spotting Oliver Wood watching the pair of them from the entrance to the stadium. He waved a hand, the other tucked around a large wooden crate, "Come down here!" 

Harry came up alongside Cheyenne, and they flew over to land in front of Wood. 

"Very nice." Wood grinned, his eyes glinting brightly as he looked from one to the other, "I can see what McGonagall meant, you're both naturals. Potter, you're the fastest, which is good, you'll need that speed; that isn't to say you're not fast, Power, but you're going to need to be better at defense and redirecting attention. Both of which will be perfect for your positions." He set the crate on the ground, "Let's get started. I'll just be teaching the two of you the rules this evening, but after that you'll both be joining team practice three times a week." 

Wood opened the crate, revealing four balls of varying sizes, "Right, now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, though it isn't always the easiest to play. There are seven to eight players on a team. Three of them are called Chasers." 

"Three Chasers," Harry and Cheyenne repeated, watching as Wood took the largest ball from the crate; it was a bright red and made of leather, just about the size of a football. 

"This ball here is called the Quaffle." Wood tossed it to Cheyenne; she fumbled, having not expected the pass, nearly dropping it in the process, "Neither of you will really have to worry about it too much, it's mostly a concern for the Chasers and one other player, who I'll get to in a second. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to one another and try to get it through one of the three hoops at each end of the pitch to score a goal." He pointed to the trio of hoops to their right, "Their team earns ten points for each time the Quaffle is put through one of those hoops. Follow me so far?" 

"The Chasers mostly handle the Quaffle and have to put it through the hoops to score." Cheyenne recited as she tossed the Quaffle to Harry so he could get a feel for it, too, while she cocked her head, "Sounds a bit like basketball, doesn't it?" She looked at the younger boy, who nodded his head in agreement. 

"What's basketball?" Wood furrowed his brows, but Harry shook his head as he tossed the Quaffle back. 

"Don't worry about it, it's a Muggle sport." Cheyenne told Wood quickly; their captain quirked a brow, but didn't press the issue further as he returned the Quaffle to the crate, "Who's that other player aside from the Chasers who can handle the Quaffle?" 

"Right, the only other player required to handle the Quaffle is the Keeper – I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. My job is to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring." 

"Three Chasers and one Keeper to each team." Harry said with a nod, determined to remember that. "They handle the Quaffle. Okay, I think we've got it." He turned to Cheyenne, who nodded her confirmation, "What're those ones for?" He pointed to the three balls left. 

"I'll show you now." Wood opened a hidden compartment in the base of the crate and produced two small clubs similar to rounders' bats, "First, you both should take these." 

"What for?" Cheyenne frowned as she took hers. Wood grinned, "Trust me, Power, you're going to want that when dealing with these buggers." 

Wood turned back to the crate and crouched down beside it, pointing to a pair of identical balls, which seemed to have been strapped in place and, for what looked like, good reason; these two were slightly smaller than the Quaffle, jet-black in color, and seemed to be straining against their straps, to the point it was making the whole crate vibrate, "These here are called Bludgers. I'd stand back for this." 

Harry and Cheyenne exchanged uneasy looks and took a step back as Wood undid the straps holding down one of the Bludgers. As soon as it was free from its restraints, the black ball rose straight up into the air and pelted straight for Harry's face. Harry reflexively swung his bat, sending it zigzagging away, just barely avoiding a broken nose; it switched directions suddenly and took aim at Cheyenne, who leapt out of its' path and Wood dove atop the little wrecking ball, somehow managing to pin it to the ground. 

"See?" Wood panted once he'd successfully strapped the Bludger back inside the crate, "The Bludgers zoom around during the game and try to knock players off their brooms, which is why we have two players on each team called Beaters. The Weasley twins are the Gryffindor Beaters – it's their job to protect the rest of the team from the Bludgers and knock them toward our opponents. So – you two think you've got all that?" 

"Three Chasers try to score with the Quaffle," Cheyenne put up one finger. 

"The Keeper guards the goalposts." Harry continued, watching her put up another to keep track. 

"And the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team." Cheyenne put up a final finger as Wood nodded. 

"Very good." He grinned. 

"Erm - have the Bludgers ever..." Harry exchanged a nervous look with Cheyenne before turning back to Wood, "Killed anyone?" 

"Never at Hogwarts." Wood scratched the back of his neck, "We have had a couple of broken jaws before, but nothing worse than that, really. Now, the last two members of the team are the Seeker, that's you Potter, and, if the team can find one, the Helper, which will be your position, Power. Like I said, neither of you will have to worry much about the Quaffle or the Bludgers -" 

" - not unless they decide to crack our heads open..." Cheyenne frowned. Wood chuckled. 

"Don't you worry too much about that, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers – if I'm honest, they're more like a pair of human Bludgers themselves." 

Harry and Cheyenne exhaled in relief, feeling a bit better about that as Wood bent to retrieve the final ball. Unlike the Quaffle or Bludgers, this ball was tiny, probably only the size of a large walnut. The pair had to admit, though, it was beautiful, with its bright gold body and fluttering silver wings. 

"This," Wood straightened, holding the ball tightly between his thumb and forefinger, "is the Golden Snitch, and it is the single most important ball of the lot. It's difficult to catch because it's incredibly fast and difficult to see. But that's where the Seeker and his Helper come in." He returned his attention to Harry and Cheyenne, "It's mainly the Seeker's job to catch the Snitch, but the Helper is there to help him find it, protect their Seeker from the other team and distract their Seeker when the Snitch is spotted. Harry's going to need that extra help, since he's going to be weaving around the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get this before the other team's Seeker. The reason this is so important is because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so their team almost always wins. It's why Seekers and Helpers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch is caught, which means the game can go on for ages – the record for the longest game of Quidditch was three months...they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get a break and get some sleep." 

Wood paused thoughtfully as Cheyenne and Harry stared, amazed, before he seemed to realize he still had an audience, "Well, that's about it – any questions?" 

The preteens shook their heads, knowing what they were going to have to do. The difficult thing? This all seemed easier said than done, just as Wood had mentioned. 

"We won't be practicing with the Snitch just yet.' Wood said as he carefully returned it to the crate. "It's getting dark, and we don't want to lose it. So, let's just try you both out with a few of these." 

Wood produced a bag of ordinary golf balls from his pocket; within minutes, the trio were in the air, with Wood throwing the golf balls in every direction for Harry to catch, telling Cheyenne to stay back and point out ones he didn't see. 

With their teamwork, Harry didn't miss a single ball, which thrilled Wood immensely. After half an hour, however, with night having fallen fully, they were not able to carry on. 

"That Quidditch Cup's going to have our names on it for sure this year," Wood said proudly as they made their way back to the castle, now a dark silhouette against the black, starry sky, "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Potter turned out better than Charlie Weasley. He could've played for England itself if he hadn't've gone off chasing dragons." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

With the addition of Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of their classes and homework, the next couple of months passed in a blur. Harry and Cheyenne had settled into the castle, which was none too surprising, especially for Harry, who was beginning to see Hogwarts as more of a home than Privet Drive had ever been. And now that they'd mastered the basics, their classes were becoming more and more interesting. 

The day of Halloween, the delicious scent of baked pumpkin and cooked turkey permeated the air, making their mouths water with anticipation for that evening's feast. Their day only got better when Professor Flitwick announced during Charms that he believed their class was ready to start making objects fly, something they'd all been looking forward to since he'd made Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. They were all put into pairs to practice the spell for themselves, with Harry being paired with Seamus Finnigan, much to his relief, while Cheyenne was to work with Neville. She didn't mind this much, even though she knew he struggled with Charms, as she was more than willing to help him however she could. As for Ron, he was less than thrilled when he was partnered with Hermione, although, the identically irritated looks on both their faces made it difficult to determine who was more bothered by this. Hermione was still refusing to speak to either Harry or Ron and had continued to do so since the day Harry and Cheyenne's broomsticks had arrived. Cheyenne, meanwhile, caught Hermione in the dormitory the night after their first training session with Oliver Wood, and the pair had managed to talk things out. While Hermione still didn't quite agree with the trio's reckless behavior, Cheyenne was glad they'd been able to come to a mutual understanding and were back on speaking terms. 

"Now, be sure to remember that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked from atop his perch behind his desk, "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And do be sure to say the magic words properly, that's very important – never forget the tale of Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." 

This spell, however, proved more difficult than anticipated; Cheyenne patiently corrected Neville on his wand movements, gently prompting him to speak a little more clearly as he struggled to make the feather they were practicing on fly. A yelp to their right made Neville flinch and Cheyenne glanced over in time to see that Seamus had set his and Harry's feather ablaze before Harry put out the fire with his hat. On their left, Ron was not having anymore luck than Harry or Seamus. 

"Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted, waving his long arms in a way that made him resemble a windmill. 

"Oh...I don't think I can do this, Cheyenne..." Neville sighed in defeat as Hermione snapped at Ron to speak more clearly. Cheyenne smiled reassuringly. 

"C'mon, Neville, it isn't too difficult, just remember what I told you about feeling the magic. And be sure to say the words right, yeah? Like this: Wing – gar – dium Levi – o – sa, you have to make the 'gar' nice and long." 

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled at Hermione behind her as Neville slumped his shoulders. Cheyenne rubbed his back. 

"C'mon Neville, you just have to have faith in yourself. Here, how about I try it first and then you can have another go?" She took a deep breath as she picked up her wand, gathering herself before flicking it at the feather, "Wingardium Leviosa!" 

Neville watched as the feather rose from the desk and proceeded to float a couple of feet above their heads. 

"Oh, well done ladies!" Professor Flitwick cried jovially, applauding, "Everyone see here, Miss Granger and Miss Power have done it!" 

Cheyenne glanced to her left and caught Hermione's eye as the girls exchanged a proud smile. Ron scowled, slumping moodily over a couple of books stacked on the desk in front of him. 

"That girl's an absolute nightmare, honestly," Ron grumbled at the end of class as he, Harry, and Cheyenne pushed their way into the crowded corridor, his expression stormy and ears red, "It's no wonder no one can stand her, look at what she's done to you, Chey, she's turning you into a know-it-all, too." 

Cheyenne's stomach broiled as she gave Ron a sharp look, opening her mouth to defend Hermione when someone shoved past Harry, knocking him into her. The young woman turned, spotting a familiar curtain of curly brown hair before it disappeared amongst the crowd. 

"Hermione...?" 

"I think she heard you..." Harry frowned, having caught a glimpse of the barely concealed tears in Hermione's eyes. 

"So?" Ron glanced away, uncomfortable, "She has to have noticed she hasn't got any friends." 

Cheyenne whipped back around to face Ron, her eyes hardening into a glare, "I'm her friend!" 

Ron rubbed his neck awkwardly and Cheyenne huffed as she pushed on ahead to their next class, hoping she'd be able to catch up to Hermione before the lesson began. Unfortunately, however, Hermione did not turn up for that class, nor did she appear for the remainder of the afternoon; this worried Cheyenne, knowing how studious her new friend could be. She never missed class...what Ron had said must have really upset her if it was keeping her from her studies. By the time Cheyenne and the boys returned to Gryffindor Tower at the end of the day, still without a clue as to Hermione's whereabouts, Cheyenne was so worried she considered blowing off the feast to search for her. It was the conversation she overheard between Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown in the dormitory that helped decide it for her. 

"Hermione's holed herself up in the girls' toilets on the first floor." Cheyenne told Harry and Ron as soon as she rejoined them in the common room, shooting Ron another glare, "I overheard Parvati and Lavender talking about her. She's locked herself in one of the stalls and refuses to come out." 

"Well, what do you expect us to do about it?" Ron rubbed his neck again, unable to meet Cheyenne's gaze. 

"We need to go down there and help her, we can't just leave her there by herself, Ron! How would you feel if you were in her position?" She looked between the boys, glancing hopefully at Harry, but he couldn't quite meet her eye either. She pursed her lips and shook her head in disappointment, "Fine, if neither of you are coming, I'll go by myself." She shoved past them and started toward the portrait hole when Harry grabbed her wrist to stop her. 

"Chey, maybe we should just leave her be, what if she wants to be left alone -?" 

"And what if she doesn't?" Cheyenne spun around, jerking her arm out of his hand, "Harry Potter, I am appalled by your behavior, you should know better than anyone how Hermione feels! Just because she's clever doesn't mean she's not any newer to magic or this school than the rest of us. She's more than the know-it-all the two of you think she is." She glared at both boys, "And by the way, there's a difference between one's smarts and attitude; she's not a know-it-all for wanting to learn." 

With that, Cheyenne turned on her heel and marched out of the common room, ignoring Harry's calls as she went. If the boys wanted to pretend nothing was wrong, they could go right ahead, but there was no way Cheyenne was turning a blind eye to any of this. Both she and Harry had been in a situation similar to Hermione, so she wasn't going to pretend she didn't understand how it felt to be alone and ostracized by her peers. While it was true Harry and Ron weren't necessarily bullying Hermione, it didn't excuse how they were treating her, either. Hermione was just as new to Hogwarts as any first year, not to mention, like Harry and Cheyenne, she'd had no clue the magical world had existed until she'd received her acceptance letter. Hermione wasn't perfect either, not by a long shot, she could be bossy and hardheaded, but that didn't mean she deserved to feel as though she didn't belong, and Cheyenne was determined to make sure Hermione knew she wasn't alone, that she did have a friend despite what Ron had said. 

Taking a couple of hidden corridors and staircases to avoid running into any of the other students, Cheyenne turned right on the first floor, heading away from the Great Hall and toward the girls' bathroom. 

"Hermione?" Cheyenne pushed the door open to peer inside, pausing to listen; quiet sobs echoed in the chamber, twisting at her heart, "Hermione, it's Chey..." 

"Go away..." Hermione whimpered from the stall farthest from the door; Cheyenne frowned, grateful the two were alone and it was quiet, least she missed the other girl's words. Letting herself into the room, she pushed the door absent-mindedly behind her, too focused on wanting to comfort Hermione to notice it hadn't shut completely. 

"I'm not going away, Hermione, and I'm not leaving until you come out." Cheyenne leaned against the sink in front of Hermione's stall and crossed her arms, "Friends are there for each other when they're upset." 

"Shouldn't let Ron hear you say that...I'm turning you into a know-it-all, too..." 

"Oh, bullocks what Ron thinks or says, Hermione, I don't need him to tell me who I can or can't hang out with, that's my choice, not his." Cheyenne huffed, shaking her head, "Besides, there's nothing wrong with being smart. It doesn't make you a know-it-all, it just means you're willing to learn and open your mind to new experiences. I'm not ashamed of that part of myself and you shouldn't be either." 

"...what if he's right, though?" Hermione sniffled, "Being smart hasn't exactly helped me make any friends..." 

"I'm your friend, Hermione, and it's because you're smart. I admire your drive and willingness to study...I don't think I've met anyone as passionate as you, not even at any of the Muggle schools Harry and I attended...Harry isn't dumb, he got decent marks in school, but I don't think he really understands that drive to want to learn and explore, the way we want to. It's nice having someone to talk to who understands that feeling..." 

There was a brief silence, only broken by the sound of Hermione blowing her nose, "Harry doesn't exactly seem to like me, either...and I'm sure he wouldn't want us being friends." 

Cheyenne sighed, "Harry's been my best friend since we were little...before we came to Hogwarts, all we had was each other, and I'll always care about him, but not even he can control who I want to be friends with, just as I can't and won't control who his friends are. Besides, if he can have a friend in Ron, why can't I with you?" 

Another pause and there was a quiet click as the stall's lock slid out of place. Cheyenne smiled and pushed off the sink as Hermione swung the door open, wiping her cheeks with one of her sleeves. Reaching into her pocket, Cheyenne took out her handkerchief and offered it to Hermione, who shook her head, smiling weakly. 

"No, but thank you, Chey...and thank you for coming to find me." 

"That's what friends are for." Cheyenne smiled as she tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket, "So...think you're up for the Halloween feast? If not, we can head back up to the common room." 

Hermione paused, thoughtful, before she took a deep breath, "Let's go to the feast, it'd be a shame to miss out on all that delicious food after smelling it all day." 

Cheyenne beamed as the pair turned toward the exit, "Oh, I know, I've had a craving for pumpkin pastries since this morning and -" She trailed off as a sudden, foul stench hit her like a freight train, staggering her. Her hand came up instinctively to cover her mouth and nose, tears blurring her eyes at the combined scent of old socks and dirty public toilets. 

"C-Chey..." Hermione croaked as their eyes fell on a pair of flat, horned feet; Cheyenne swallowed thickly as their gaze trailed up a pair of short legs as thick as tree trunks, past a lumpy torso wrapped in dull, granite gray skin and landing on the small bald head perched atop it's broad shoulders, "I-it's a troll!" 

Cheyenne instinctively put an arm out in front of Hermione, ushering her back as the troll stared down at them, blinking tiny black eyes. As Cheyenne opened her mouth to ask Hermione what she thought they should do, the bathroom door slammed and the lock clicked into place, echoing deafeningly in the suddenly tiny chamber. Oh no. 

Exchanging a wide-eyed look, Cheyenne and Hermione's eyes flashed back to the troll as it gave a low, agitated grunt, its' eyes darkening as it raised its huge wooden club above its head with long, gangly arms. 

Time slowed to a crawl, like someone had hit slow motion as the wooden bludgeon swung downward; with her heartbeat thundering in her ears, Cheyenne felt her body move of its' own accord as she whirled round to face Hermione again and shoved her, hard, back into the stall she'd just been occupying. As the other girl disappeared into the shadows, Cheyenne launched herself sideways into the stalls beside Hermione's, narrowing dodging the blow. Pain flared up her back as she slammed into the toilet bowl on her way down, though her focus was on the spot where they'd just been standing as the troll retracted its' club from the crater it'd made in the tiles. 

"Chey -?!" Hermione started to call when the sound of splintering wood filled the air; Cheyenne pulled her legs close as the stall door clattered against the frame, glancing to the left, where the sound was coming from, watching the walls shudder and bow as the noise drew closer. 

"Duck!" Cheyenne yelled, throwing herself to the floor as the club tore through their shelter; large chunks of wood rained down from above, settling over her like a blanket as she covered her head and neck with her arms. Hermione's high, petrified scream filled the chamber, reverberating off the stone walls and echoing desperately in Cheyenne's ears, even muffled through the kindling the troll had made of the stalls. Cheyenne pushed herself up on an elbow, shoving wood aside in search of Hermione, who reemerged from the amid the debris as a shadow fell across them; Cheyenne clawed her way out, doing her best not to look back into the troll's fearsome face. 

"Hermione, move!" Her words trailed off into a scream as something clamped down on her ankle, dragging her backward. She twisted around, looking up into the troll's beady black eyes. Cheyenne scrambled for something, anything to grab onto, kicking at the troll's hand with her free foot as it started to lift her into the air, "Let go of me, you big brute!" 

"Chey!" Cheyenne's heart soared at the voice and her head swiveled around to find the source as the troll paused, glancing around to where Harry and Ron stood by the door, wide-eyed and pale as ghosts. 

"Confuse it!" Harry said to Ron as he seized a broken lock from the floor and threw it, hard, at the wall; metal hit stone with a resounding clank, echoing dizzyingly. The troll jolted at the noise, dropping Cheyenne unceremoniously back onto the wood pile, where she scrambled back out of reach. The troll barely seemed to notice as it lumbered around, blinking slowly at Harry. It hesitated, as though it was considering the new target, before it shuffled toward him instead, lifting its' club once more. 

"Oi, pea-brain!" Ron yelled from the other side of the room as he threw a metal pipe at it as hard as he could. Cheyenne saw the pipe hit the troll in the shoulder before she was hauled to her feet by Hermione, who pulled her back against the far wall with her. The pair watched the troll turn at the shout, its' attention now on Ron, giving Harry the chance to run around it. 

"Chey." Harry breathed as he pulled his best friend to his chest, his heart racing. Cheyenne's arms automatically came up to wrap around his waist, "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." She murmured as the pair broke apart so Harry could get a proper look at her; she gave a weak smile, "Really, I'm not the one we have to be worried about right now. First, we need to -" Her voice fell away as the troll, driven mad by the overwhelming noise, let out a bellowing roar and charged Ron, who was closest and had no way of escape. 

"Harry!" Cheyenne shouted after him as he charged after the troll himself; she, Hermione, and Ron could do little more than watch as he took a great, running leap right onto the creature's back, where he somehow managed to fasten his arms around its' neck. The troll gave a sudden pained yell and twisted around violently, flailing its club to protect itself. Cheyenne soon spotted the source of its' discomfort when she caught a glimpse of its' face; while securing his arms around its neck, Harry had accidentally stuck his wand, which had been in his hand when he'd jumped, straight up its' nose. If they didn't do something soon, that troll was going to get a hold of Harry or deliver a terrible blow with that club of his. 

As she tried to work out what to do, Hermione shrank back into the wall beside Cheyenne while Ron hurried pulled out his own wand. Looking as though he hadn't the faintest idea of what he was about to do himself, he gave it a determined flick and said the first spell that came to mind: "Wingardium Leviosa!" 

Without warning, the club flew from the troll's hand, rose high into the air, turned over slowly, and then dropped, with a rather sickening crack, onto its' owner's head. The troll swayed on its feet for a moment looking dazed, and then fell forward with a thud that made the entire room tremble. 

Cheyenne dashed forward, gently grabbing Harry's arm as he stumbled to his feet, shaky and out of breath. Ron didn't move, his wand still raised as he stared at what he had just done while Hermione slowly peeled herself from the wall. 

"I-is it...dead?" 

"I don't think so..." Harry mumbled, furrowing his brows as the dust began to settle, "I think it's just been knocked out." 

Giving Cheyenne a reassuring smile, Harry bent to inspect the troll for a moment before he carefully pulled his wand from its nose. Cheyenne made a face at the sight of the thick, lumpy gray mucus that now coated it. 

"Ugh, troll boogies." Harry groaned, wiping it off on the troll's trousers. 

Doors slammed nearby and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps made the four look up, suddenly realizing the racket they and the troll must have been making. Within seconds, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell had burst into the room to find the source of the commotion; when they rounded the door and their gazes landed on the troll, Quirrell let out a faint whimper and felt his way along the wall to the nearest toilet, where he lowered himself, clutching at his heart. 

Snape bent to inspect the troll while Professor McGonagall eyed Harry, Ron, and Cheyenne furiously, her lips set into a thin white line while her glasses flashed in fury. Cheyenne's stomach clenched, having never seen her look as angry as she did now, her hand instinctively seeking Harry's for comfort. 

"What on earth were the three of you thinking?" Professor McGonagall said, her voice low, strained with emotion. Harry and Cheyenne exchanged a silent look as Ron stood, frozen, wand still aloft, "You're lucky none of you were killed! Why aren't you in your dormitories?" 

Snape glanced up, narrowing his black eyes; Cheyenne met his gaze for the briefest of seconds before lowering her eyes to the floor, silently wishing Ron would put his wand away. 

"Please, Professor McGonagall, it wasn't their fault." A small voice said from behind them. Professor McGonagall turned to Hermione as she came up to stand beside Cheyenne, her head bowed, "They were looking for me." 

Professor McGonagall's mouth opened in shock, "Miss Granger?" 

Hermione still couldn't bring herself to look up, although she tilted her head to the side, gaze flickering to the wall while she shuffled her feet guiltily, "I went looking for the troll, thinking I could deal with it on my own...I-I'd read all about them and thought it would be enough..." 

Ron's wand slipped from his fingers, clattering to the bathroom floor as Harry and Cheyenne looked at one another again, eyebrows arching in surprise. Was Hermione Granger lying...and to a teacher, no less?! 

"If they hadn't found me in time, I'd be dead now...Cheyenne tried to get me out of danger while Harry stuck his wand up its' nose as a distraction and Ron knocked it out with its' own club...none of them had time to fetch anyone else...it was about to finish me off when the three of them arrived." 

There was a beat of silence as this sunk in; Professor McGonagall looked slowly from one student to the other, considering Hermione's words as Harry, Ron, and Cheyenne all tried to look as though her story wasn't new to any of them. 

"Well, in that case..." Professor McGonagall began slowly, her brow knitting as she finally returned her attention to Hermione, "Miss Granger, that was a truly foolish thing to do, thinking you could tackle a mountain troll on your own. What in heaven's name made you think you could possibly accomplish such a thing?" 

Hermione folded her hands before her and stared at her feet. Harry could only gape in stunned silence as Cheyenne looked between them, still trying to process this whole thing herself. Hermione was the absolute last person to do, well, anything that went against the rules and, yet, here she was, pretending she had, to get the three of them out of trouble. Were things between her and the boys finally looking up? 

"Miss Granger, I will be taking five points from Gryffindor for your reckless behavior." Professor McGonagall continued, pursing her lips, "I am very disappointed in you. If you aren't injured, you had best get yourself off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their common rooms." 

Hermione didn't even look up as she shuffled out of the bathroom while Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and Cheyenne. 

"Well, I can certainly say you three were very lucky, not many first years can say they've taken on a full-grown mountain troll and lived to tell the tale. You each have won Gryffindor house five points. Professor Dumbledore shall be informed of your bravery here tonight. You are dismissed." 

Harry gripped Cheyenne's hand tight as the trio hurried from the chamber, although none of them thought to speak until they were at least a couple floors away, well out of earshot of any of the teachers and, much to their relief, the scent of that troll. 

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points." Ron huffed as they passed the fourth floor. 

"Ten, you mean, after Professor McGonagall takes off the points she took from Hermione." Cheyenne pointed out. 

"Nice of her to get us out of trouble like that..." Ron admitted, rubbing his neck, "But, then again, we did save her and Chey." 

"They probably wouldn't have needed saving if we hadn't locked that thing in with them." Harry said, smiling sheepishly at Cheyenne as she stared at the two of them, wide-eyed. 

"That was you two?!" She sighed as Harry nodded, "Ugh, I really shouldn't be surprised, not with how quickly you showed up to help us." She shoved Harry's shoulder lightly as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, "You're both still idiots." 

"Can't really argue that..." Harry conceded as Ron gave the Fat Lady the password and the three climbed into the common room, which was packed with the rest of Gryffindor House. 

Blissfully unaware of the skirmish below, the other students chatted pleasantly among themselves as they enjoyed the food that had been sent up from the Great Hall. The only one who hadn't joined in the festivities, though, was Hermione, who stood alone by the door, waiting for their return. An awkward pause stretched between the group as they all tried to figure out what to say; neither Ron nor Harry could quite meet Hermione's eye, nor could she meet theirs'. Cheyenne finally sighed and shook her head, smiling quietly as she broke the ice. 

"Thank you, Hermione, you really saved us back there." 

Hermione glanced up, some of the awkward tension dissipating with her timid smile; Harry and Ron murmured their thanks, too. 

"Thank you for saving me." Hermione finally said, releasing a slow breath before she and the boys hurried to get grab plates for themselves. Cheyenne watched the three go with an amused smile, her hands on her hips. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." She chuckled to herself as she strolled after them. There were just some things you couldn't share with a person without it changing everything, sometimes for the better. And Cheyenne could say with absolute confidence that knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll was one of them.