2- First Year

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1991:

My first year in the wizarding world, I learned to fear He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Before then, I had never heard of such a... title. It wasn't until Harry Potter had said his name and Hermione Granger gave me the history of the wizard who gave Harry his scar did I learn to fear him. And my fear grew stronger at the end of the year when Harry almost died.

When I first met Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, I wasn't sure that we would be friends, not at all. Hermione Granger and I, on the other hand, connected instantly. We were both muggleborn witches that could have been put in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, but our bravery and nerve overpowered our intelligence and wit.

Hermione and I spent hours studying our course books and trying to ignore Harry and Ron, the two troublemakers of our year. It wasn't until Ron had insulted Hermione that I almost clawed his eyes out muggle style. And bad turned to worse during dinner.

Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll— Troll in the dungeons— thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"SILENCE! Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Without caring for any consequences, I made a beeline towards the girl's bathroom, where I knew Hermione was hiding away in, to warn her about the troll. Just as I did, there had been footsteps that belong to a teacher— Professor Snape— and I had to hide. The two boys had followed me and when the footsteps disappeared and the troll went into a chamber, they closed the troll in the room... the girls' bathroom, to be exact.

The three of us fought a fully grown mountain troll and managed to keep it from savaging my best friend. It wasn't our brightest moment, but probably one of our bravest. Professor McGonagall had come 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 Ron and Harry, seeming to not have noticed Hermione or me. I had never seen her look so angry, his lips were white and her face was red.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look and found my eyes behind him.

"And you as well?" he said.

Professor McGonagall looked up from Harry and Ron and her face turned even redder at the sight of me. Before she could yell at me, as well, a small voice came out of the shadows.

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

"Miss Granger!"

I ran over and helped Hermione to her feet, she was still shaking madly.

"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 his jaw; Harry stared at her in disbelief; I stood frozen.

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

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