Doubts

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Harry's eyes widened. "Have you ever, you know, done it?"

Tom looked impatient now. "Done what?"

"You know, had...sex."

"How do you even know what that is?"

"The biology book you made me read, remember?"

"Ah."

"Well, have you?"

"Twice."

"And?"

"And it was unsanitary and tedious. What did you expect me to say?" Tom snapped.

"Then why did you do it twice?"

"The first time was merely an experiment."

"And the second?"

"Well," Tom drawled, a cruel glint in his eye and a sadistic smirk on his face, "That was a bit more entertaining."

And that was that. Harry was left feeling vaguely uncomfortable and now knew to never go to Tom about girl troubles, assuming he ever got the chance to have those in earnest. For now, he was content with labeling the females in his life as a mystery and leaving it at that.

The older Slytherins seemed equal parts wary, curious, and amused by him. However, if it hadn't been clear that his housemates were suspicious of him before, it certainly was now. He knew people were talking about him behind his back, staring at him while he looked the other way. It was clear to him that none of them had expected him to get so angry, given how even his temper had been for the last two months, and he was sure they didn't think that he had it in him to break another student's leg with wandless, wordless magic. From what Harry could tell, that was considered an impressive feat, though it was nothing new to him. What was new was the brief but potent torrent of rage that had overtaken him. He found it...extremely concerning. He had felt like Tom for a few moments, and he really didn't want to feel like Tom. He also hated that he'd inadvertently proven Tom's "fear breeds respect" theory because his housemates really did seem to have some respect for him now. He hadn't even lost any points over the whole debacle.

"I'm not going to take any points," Hortense Rowland had said the day after when she pulled him aside. "I'm not going to tell Professor Snape either. None of us will."

Harry had looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"Malfoy was out of line. I'm a prefect, so I can't say he deserved it, or that what you did was impressive. I certainly can't say that you've won the respect of some of the older students. What I can say is don't lose your temper like that again, and watch your back. You especially need to be careful not to make too many enemies."

He'd fidgeted a bit, feeling some nervousness wash over him as a result of her words, but she noticed this, and her eyes softened. Much to his surprise, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But know this, Potter. I've got your back. Slytherins look after our own... and you're a Slytherin."

Her words left a warm feeling in his chest. He had thanked her profusely after that, and she had smiled softly in return. The attention he had received from Rowland was really nice, but for the most part, he really did hate all the attention and was more and more hoping the Quidditch game in a couple of weeks would inject some positive energy into all of it.

The only person who seemed truly, earnestly pleased by the actions he took the other night was Granger, or Hermione, as she now insisted he call her. The morning following the troll incident, she had bravely trotted up to the Slytherin table during breakfast.

"Potter? I..." she began timidly, "I wanted to thank you for what you did for me last night. If you hadn't beheaded that troll, I'd probably be dead right now."

"Beheaded?" he saw Theo mouthing out of the corner of his eye.

He smiled uneasily at her. "Well, I'm glad you're not dead. I'd have no one to compete with in transfiguration if you died, and that would really be a shame."

She giggled a bit at that, leaving Harry somewhat heartened.

"Besides, I've always wanted to meet a troll. Now I have...though it was admittedly...brief. I've never decapitated anything before either!"

Uh-oh. That statement didn't quite come out the way he wanted it to, he realized as the students around him turned a bit green.

"I mean...well, what I mean to say is that I'm glad everything worked out for both of us, Granger."

"Hermione."

He glanced down at the hand she was holding out to him.

"You can call me Hermione."

Harry smiled softly, taking her hand. "I suppose you can call me Harry then."

Hermione blushed a bit and quickly excused herself.

"Consorting with Mudbloods now, Potter?" Parkinson called out once the other girl was out of earshot but was quickly silenced by the glare he sent her way.

Over the past two weeks, Gr-er, Hermione had taken to sitting beside him in the library. Usually, they just sat together in silence, working on their respective homework assignments in peace, but occasionally they'd compare book collections or spell-casting techniques. They'd even discussed starting projects together. Hermione was especially interested in the spell-crafting book he had and was incredibly fascinated by what he told her about Occlumency. He'd tentatively agreed to teach her after the winter holidays. Moreover, once Hermione had gotten over her pride, she'd started to ask Harry's advice, and not just about casting spells either.

"He's started sitting beside me and talking to me."

"That's good, right? Ron's a nice boy when he's not being a halfwit."

"He's been asking me for help with charms too."

"Perfect! Just what you've always wanted!"

"I don't understand why he suddenly likes me!"

"Well, I'm sure he feels bad about nearly hurting your feelings to death, so to speak."

"I just don't know what to do, Harry. No one ever wants me around! I try to be nice to them, but no one likes me."

"Maybe try talking less?"

She scowled at him.

"Really, that's what I do."

"And then break people's legs when that fails."

"That was once, Hermione, and I'd had a long day. I do still feel very bad about it. Rather horrible, actually."

She sobered at that. "Well, you apologized," she said uneasily.

"Yeah, and I guess it was kind of your fault too."

"It was not!"

"If I hadn't had to go looking for you..." he started with a mischievous smile.

"I never asked you to look for me! Besides! I didn't know about the troll."

"I suppose we'll just have to blame it on whoever let the troll in, won't we?"

"Y – wait, what?"

"What?"

"Let the troll in?"

"Well, someone had to, didn't they?"

"Harry! No one would purposefully let a troll into a school full of children!"

"Why not?"

"Well - well, it would be a rather awful thing to do, wouldn't it?"

"And?"

"Harry, what could possibly drive someone to do such a thing?"

"Well, it's a perfect distraction, don't you think?"

"A distraction from what!?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. But mark my words, there's something behind it."

"You're mistaken."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Absolutely not. Just wait, Hermione. I'll find the proof."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

"I haven't figured it out yet."

And that's how he found himself standing outside the Slytherin common room at 1 am on November 15th, facing a very disgruntled Theo Nott who appeared equally irritated, afraid, and sleepy.

"I can't comprehend this," was all Theo managed to say.