Dark Memories

Book 1 - Part 7: Busy Halloween

"Harry, could you pass the bowl of potatoes?" Fred asked.

He did so, pumpkins and Halloween decorations all over the Great Hall.

They had fallen into a nice routine, and with Harry's Quidditch practices, his friends would take any homework and do it there. Harry had grown accustomed to the rising memories and feelings, and took them as they came. They were occasionally helpful, since they sometimes gave a review or a preview of lesson topics. They had also proven their usefulness in giving him a feel for who most everyone was, or at least who their families were. And as for the more violent memories, he stomached those the best he could, often having to privately center himself before going into any classroom with the Slytherins.

"So, have you guys heard what happened?" George asked, leaning in.

"What?" Ron asked, obviously curious.

"Do you see Draco anywhere?" Fred asked slyly.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table and found that Crabbe and Goyle were without their leader.

"Where is he?" Harry asked.

"Well, apparently, Marcus Flint had suggested doing something to you, Harry—"

"And Draco said something like he'd rather not waste his time with something that—"

"Trivial. Flint then accused Draco of having no nerve and he is shaming the Malfoy name, and—"

"Draco has now been avoiding most of the other Slytherins," George finished.

"I saw him in the bathroom. Before he knew I was there, he had been pacing, muttering under his breath," Fred said.

Harry and his friends glanced at each other, their eyebrows rising slightly.

"Why do you think he would do that?" Ron asked. "Though, our run-ins with him recently have been short and less troublesome, now that I think about it."

Ron was right, things had seemed to have at least leveled out. There was this odd understanding between Harry and Draco now, ever since Harry's seriously direct statements to him weeks prior during the Shooting Star incident.

Harry had also been making sure he always somehow acknowledged Draco and his buddies when they came around, usually by a short, respectful nod, which Draco and his companions surprisingly returned.

For right now, their understanding involved something along the lines of: show me no reason to trouble you, and I will do the same.

Harry zeroed in on his plate, thinking, as he suddenly got the urge to look up at the High Table.

Quirrell...where's Quirrell? Harry asked himself.
Suddenly, Professor Quirrell came bolting through the doors and ran up to Dumbledore.

"TROLL!—in the Dungeons—thought you ought to know..." he puffed, before promptly fainting.

Dumbledore immediately took control of the panicked students, issuing orders.

In a matter of seconds, they were all on their way to their dormitories.

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked, following the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," Ron said.

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke," Hermione suggested.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Neville said.

Harry suddenly stopped and grabbed Ron and Neville's arms, Hermione nearly bumping into him from behind.

"I've just thought—Draco."