Ron Weasley and the Philosopher's Stone

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Harry and me at breakfast the next morning - we were tired, but we were glowing with happiness. It seems that Malfoy already had no doubt that he would not meet us again, because instead of breakfast, having been expelled from school, we would take the train to London. Unlike Malfoy, we were really happy. After waking up and discussing what happened last night, Harry and I decided that meeting the three-headed dog was a great adventure and we would like to have another one in the same spirit. And now we were wondering what might need such heavy security. I reached for the fried eggs and sausages. “It's either something very valuable or something very dangerous," I said. “Or both at the same time,” Harry said thoughtfully. However, that's all we knew about this mysterious object, This means that its length is about five centimeters. But it was too little to guess or even guess what kind of object it was. As for Neville and Hermione, they didn't seem to care what was in the hiding place where the dog was standing. All Neville could think about was never being around the three-headed dog again. And Hermione just ignored Harry and me, refusing to talk to us. However, if we consider that she was a terrible know-it-all, always climbed ahead and loved to command, then we were only glad of her silence. More than anything in the world - except the desire to find out what lies in the forbidden corridor, Harry and I wanted to get back at Malfoy. And to our great joy, a week later we had such a chance. It happened at breakfast, when owls carrying mail flew into the Great Hall. Everyone sitting in the hall immediately noticed six owls carrying a long bundle through the air. I was just as curious about what was in the package as everyone else. The owls swooped over Harry's desk and dropped the package right into his plate of fried bacon. The plate broke. No sooner had six owls gained height than a seventh appeared, dropping a letter on the bundle. Harry opened the envelope first. He barely concealed his joy and handed the letter to me. "DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE AT THE TABLE," the letter read. “Your new broom, Nimbus 2000, is in it, but I don't want everyone to know about it, because otherwise all the freshmen will start asking to be allowed to have personal brooms. At seven o'clock in the evening, Oliver Wood is waiting for you at the Quidditch pitch, where the first practice session will take place. Professor M. McGonagall" Holy shit, it's the new racing broom itself. "Nimbus 2000!" I groaned with envy. “I've never even held one in my hands.” We quickly left the hall to have time to examine the broom before the start of the first lesson. But as we approached the stairs, Crabbe and Goyle appeared in our path. Malfoy appeared from behind them, snatched the bundle from Harry and felt it appreciatively. “It's a broom," he stated flatly, tossing the bundle back to Harry. There was anger and envy on his face. But only if I was envious in a kind way, then Malfoy's envy was black. “You're not going to get out of this one, Potter, “Freshmen are not allowed to have their own brooms.” I couldn't stand it. It was such an opportunity to mock him that I couldn't resist. “It's not just some old broom”, I looked at Malfoy with superiority and grinned defiantly. “This is the Nimbus 2000. What did you say, Malfoy, about that broom you left at home? Isn't this the Comet 260? The broom, of course, is not bad, but there is no comparison with the Nimbus 2000.” “What do you know about broomsticks, Weasley? You wouldn't even have enough money for half a pound," Malfoy muttered in response. “You and your brothers have probably been saving up for an ordinary broom for many years, buying twigs each.” Before I could reply, Professor Flitwick appeared next to Malfoy. “I hope you boys aren't fighting here.” he squeaked. “Professor, Potter's got a broom,” Malfoy blurted out and froze, clearly pleased with himself. “Yes, yes, it's okay,” Professor Flitwick smiled broadly at Harry. “You know, Potter, Professor McGonagall told me about the exception she made for you. What kind of model is this?” “It's a Nimbus 2000, sir," Harry explained, “I have to thank Malfoy for getting me such a broom.” Crabbe and Goyle parted, and we went up the stairs, shaking with silent laughter. Malfoy looked furious and helpless at the same time. “The funny thing is, it's true,” Harry giggled as they reached the top of the marble staircase. “If Malfoy hadn't grabbed Neville's reminder, I wouldn't have joined the team...” “So you think this is a reward for breaking the school rules?” An angry voice rang out from behind. We looked back and saw Hermione Granger coming up the stairs. She looked disapprovingly at the bundle in Harry's hands. I don't think you've been talking to us," Harry said. “And don't change your mind in any way,” I added it. “Especially since it brings us so much benefit.” Hermione proudly walked past, lifting her nose to the ceiling. After school, Potter and I rushed upstairs together to finally unpack his Nimbus. “Oh, my God!” I breathed out admiringly, unable to take my eyes off the miracle that had opened up to us. Even Harry, who didn't know much about brooms, was impressed. The mahogany handle was polished to a shine, the long straight rods and the gold letters "Nimbus-2000" - in short, the broom was just a sight. In the evening, Harry took a broom and went to his first workout. *** In two months, the castle has become my home. I felt comfortable at Hogwarts, and I made a friend here. In addition, it was very interesting here, including in the lessons, which have become much more exciting since the first-year students have mastered the basics and started studying a more complex program. When we woke up on the morning of Halloween, we felt the delicious smell of baked pumpkin, an indispensable attribute of this holiday. And then, in a spell lesson, Professor Flitwick announced that, in his opinion, we were ready to start practicing. Ever since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad fly around the classroom several times, I, like everyone else, have been dying to master this art. Professor Flitwick divided all the students into pairs. Harry's partner turned out to be Seamus Finnigan, which made Harry very happy. But I was unlucky - I got Hermione Granger as my partner. Although Hermione didn't seem thrilled either. It was hard to tell which of us looked more annoyed. Hermione hasn't spoken to Harry or me once since the day Harry got the broom. “Don't forget the brush movements that you and I practiced,” Professor Flitwick was squeaking “The brush rotates easily, and sharply, and with a whoosh. Remember, it's easy, and sharp, and with a whoosh. And it is very important to pronounce the magic words correctly - do not forget about the wizard Baruffio. He said "es" instead of "ef" and as a result found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo standing on his chest.” It was not easy to achieve the result. I did everything as Professor Flitwick taught, but the pen I was trying to lift into the air wouldn't come off the desk. An impatient Seamus quickly lost his temper and started poking the feather with his magic wand, which sparks flew out, as a result, he managed to set it on fire - Harry had to extinguish the feather with his pointed hat. “Wingardium Leviosa!” I shouted, waving my arms like a windmill. But the pen in front of me remained motionless. What's wrong? Is it really a wand? “You're pronouncing the spell wrong,” Hermione said unhappily. “It should be pronounced like this: Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, the syllable "gar" should have a long "a".” “If you're that smart, try it yourself," I growled back. “Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, waved her wand, and cast a spell. The pen lifted off the desk and hovered over Hermione at a height of about one and a half meters. “Oh, great!” Professor Flitwick applauded. “Everyone saw that Miss Granger had succeeded!” “By the end of the class, I was in a very bad mood. No wonder no one can stand her," I muttered as we tried to make our way through the crowd of schoolchildren that filled the hallway. “To be honest, she's a real nightmare.” Finally, we got out of the crowd. But at that moment, someone bumped into Harry from the side, apparently not noticing him. It was Hermione. She immediately darted back into the crowd. “I think she heard what you said.” he said worriedly, turning to me and rubbing his side. “So what?” I waved it off, but I felt a little uncomfortable. “She should have noticed by now that no one wants to be friends with her.” Hermione didn't show up for the next lesson, and no one knew where she was until the evening. It wasn't until we were going down to the Great Hall for the Halloween banquet that Harry and I overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the women's bathroom and wouldn't calm down, asking to be left alone. I felt really uneasy. But a few moments later, when we entered the festively decorated Great Hall, I forgot all about Hermione. Food! And we'll visit this crybaby later. Moreover, I won't go to the women's bathroom, I still don't want to be known as a pervert. Thousands of bats sat on the walls and ceiling, flapping their wings, and several thousand more flew over the tables like low-hanging black clouds. It made the candles stuck in the pumpkins flutter. Just like at the banquet on the occasion of the start of the school year, there were empty golden dishes on the tables, on which suddenly appeared a wide variety of dishes. I was helping myself to a plate of baked pumpkin when Professor Quirrell ran into the hall. His turban was askew, and there was fear on his face. Everyone in the room froze, watching as Quirrell ran up to Professor Dumbledore's chair and, leaning heavily on the table, groaned: “The troll! The troll... in the dungeon... I was in a hurry to inform you...” And Quirrell, having lost consciousness, collapsed to the floor. There was a commotion in the hall. It took several loud purple fireworks exploding from Professor Dumbledore's wand for silence to return. “Prefects! Dumbledore rumbled.” Take your faculties to their dormitories immediately! Percy immediately jumped up from the table, clearly feeling at home. “Follow me quickly!” he commanded. “Freshmen, stick together! If you listen to me, nothing terrible will happen! Let the freshmen through, let them come to me! No one is left behind! And everyone follow my orders- I'm the headman here! “How could a troll get into the castle?” Harry asked me as we hurried up the stairs. “Don't ask me how I know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Actually, it's strange - they say that trolls are terribly stupid. Maybe Peeves let him in, decided to make a joke before Halloween?” Judging by the busy traffic on the stairs, the evacuation was in full swing. Only the Halfpuff students lived up to the reputation of their faculty: they crowded into one of the corridors and prevented the others from passing. And the Slytherins were led upstairs somewhere. It makes sense, though. They have a living room in the dungeons. Harry and I were making our way through the crowd when Harry suddenly grabbed my sleeve. “I just remembered: Hermione!” Harry suddenly yelled. “What about Hermione?” I didn't understand. “She doesn't know about the troll.” Damn, I completely forgot about her. I bit my lip. If it's my fault she dies, I won't forgive myself. “Okay," I said abruptly after a few seconds, which it took me to summon all my courage. “But if Percy sees us...” Crouching down, we climbed into the middle of a group of Halfpuff students, who finally moved towards their tower- that is, in the opposite direction. No one paid any attention to us, and after a while we emerged from the crowd, quickly ran down an empty side aisle and rushed to the women's toilets. The goal was just around the corner. We were already turning the corner when we heard quick footsteps behind us. “It's Percy!” I hissed, grabbing Harry and hiding with him behind a large stone griffin. However, it wasn't Percy who ran past us, but Professor Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from sight. “What is he doing here?” Harry whispered. “Why isn't he in the basements with the other teachers?” “Do you think I know?” We tiptoed into the next corridor, just where Snape had disappeared, whose retreating footsteps we could clearly hear. “He's heading for the third floor,” Harry started, but I held up my hand. Fuck Snape, we have more important things to do. The air smelled like a mixture of dirty socks and a public toilet that hadn't been cleaned in years. Is it just me, or have we found a troll? Can you smell it? Harry sniffed and wrinkled his nose. The smell was followed by a sound-a low roar and the shuffle of giant soles. I pointed to the end of the corridor, and something huge was moving in our direction. We shrank back into the shadows, watching as IT emerged onto a moonlit stretch of corridor. It was something terrifying, about four meters tall, with dull granite-gray skin, a lumpy body resembling a boulder, and a tiny bald head that looked more like a coconut. The troll had short legs as thick as wood and flat, calloused feet. His arms were much longer than his legs, and therefore the giant club that the troll held in his hand dragged along the floor behind him, and the smell coming from him could have struck better than any club. The troll stopped, froze at the doorway, and bent down to look inside. He wiggled his long ears, seemingly trying to make some kind of decision. The process was delayed because the troll's brain, judging by the size of its head, was tiny. However, in the end, the decision was made and the troll, hunched over, crawled into the room. “Look, the key's still in the lock," Harry whispered, “We can lock him in there.” “It's not a bad idea," I replied nervously. As we crept towards the door, my mouth went dry. Praying to heaven that the troll would not leave the room, we crept very close. And then Harry darted forward, slammed the door, and turned the key in the lock. “There is!” Elated with success, flushed with pride, we headed back the way we came from, but before we could reach the corner, we heard a desperate scream of terror. And it was coming from the room that Harry had locked a few seconds ago. “Oh, no," I said softly, turning pale like a Bloody Baron. “This is a women's bathroom!” Harry gasped. “Hermione!” We exclaimed after a moment. The last thing we wanted to do was do what we had to do, but what choice did we have? Abruptly, we turned around and rushed back to the door. Harry's hands were shaking with fear, and he couldn't turn the key in the lock. Finally, he succeeded. He pulled the door open and we ran inside. Hermione Granger was standing against the wall directly in front of the door. She shrank back, as if she were trying to ghost through the wall. She looked like she was going to pass out. The troll was approaching her, brandishing a club and knocking down the shells attached to the walls. “Distract him!” Harry shouted at me desperately. He grabbed a washbasin plug that was lying on the floor and threw it at the wall with all his might. The troll froze a few meters away from Hermione. He awkwardly turned around to see who had made such a noise. His small evil eyes stared at Harry. The troll hesitated, deciding who to attack, and then took a step towards Harry, raising his club. Hey, you empty head! I shouted, having managed to reach the corner of the toilet room, and threw a broken piece of metal pipe at the troll. The troll didn't even seem to notice that a piece of iron had hit him in the shoulder. But he heard the scream and stopped again, turning his ugly face towards me and giving Harry the opportunity to run around him and get next to Hermione. Come on, let's run! Let's run! Harry shouted, trying to pull Hermione towards the door. But she didn't move or give in, as if rooted to the wall. Her mouth was open in horror. Harry's screams and the echoes echoing through the room, ricocheting off the walls, made the troll even more confused. He was clearly confused when he had so many goals in front of him, and did not know what to do. Suddenly the troll roared and took a step towards me: I was the closest to him and I had nowhere to run. And then Harry ran up and jumped on the troll from behind, managing to grab onto his neck and wrap both arms around it from behind. What the fuck is he doing?! The troll, given his size, of course, could not feel that little skinny Harry was hanging on him, but even the troll could not help but notice that a long piece of wood was being shoved into his nose. At the moment of the jump, Harry was holding a wand in his hands, which he pulled out for some reason after flying into the room. He obviously did it subconsciously, because as a freshman, a wand could not help him in the fight against a troll. Magic has almost no effect on them at all. But it turned out that Harry had pulled it out for a reason, and when he jumped into the troll's neck, wrapping both arms around it from behind, the wand in his right hand stuck deep into the troll's nostril. Howling in pain, the troll spun around and swung the club, while Harry hung on to it, clinging to his neck with all his might. At any second, the troll could throw him to the floor or flatten him with a blow from a club. Hermione, almost fainting from terror, sank to the floor. And I pulled out my magic wand, completely unaware of what I was going to do, and shouted the first thing that came to mind, pointing at the club. “Wingardium Leviosa!” It worked! The club broke free from the troll's hand, rose into the air and hovered for a moment, then slowly turned over and crashed with a terrible crash on the head of its owner. The troll staggered and fell to the floor with such force that the walls of the room shook. Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and couldn't catch his breath. I froze in place with my wand raised, looking at the result of my work. I did it. It worked! I need to practice more, because I can do magic. I'm taking a deep breath. Ugh, we need to get out of here before the troll wakes up. “Is he... is he dead?” Hermione broke the silence first. “I don't think so," Harry replied, finding his voice second. I guess he's just knocked out. Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. She was covered in what looked like dried gray glue. Ugh, his snot is disgusting. Harry wiped his wand on the troll's trousers. The slamming of doors and loud footsteps made us all look up. We didn't even realize what a fuss we were making here. Someone downstairs must have heard the heavy thuds and the roar of the troll, and a moment later Professor McGonagall burst into the room, followed by Professor Snape, followed by Professor Quirrell. Quirrell looked at the troll, whined softly, and immediately plopped down on the floor, clutching his heart. And this coward is doing business with us? It would be better to continue studying Muggle studies. They say he was a good teacher. Snape bent over the troll, and Professor McGonagall glared at Harry and me. I've never seen her so angry. Her lips were even white. Or is it out of fear for us? Damn, here we are. “What, let me ask you, were you thinking about?” There was cold fury in Professor McGonagall's voice. Harry squinted at me, but I didn't move from my place and still held my wand in my raised hand. “You're just lucky to be alive. Why aren't you in the bedroom?” Snape glanced at Harry's face with a knife-sharp gaze. Harry stared at the floor. Suddenly, a faint girl's voice came from the shadows. “Professor McGonagall, they were here because they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione somehow managed to get to her feet. “I went to look for the troll because... Because I thought I could handle him on my own... Because I've read everything in the library about trolls, and I know everything about them...” I dropped my wand in surprise. Who would have believed that Hermione Granger - to think of Hermione Granger - was lying to her teacher's face?! Even if I didn't know who Hermione was, it still wouldn't have occurred to me that she might be lying," her voice sounded so true. “If they hadn't found me, I would have been dead by now," Hermione continued. “Harry jumped on his neck and stuck his wand in his nostril, and Ron enchanted his club and knocked him out. They just didn't have time to call any of the professors. When they appeared, the troll was about to kill me.” Harry and I tried to make our faces look as if this story hadn't surprised us at all - as if everything had happened exactly as Hermione described. I stared at Hermione in shock. “Well, in that case..." said Professor McGonagall thoughtfully, looking at all three of them. “Miss Granger, you stupid girl, how could you possibly think that you could subdue a mountain troll on your own?!” Hermione lowered her head. Harry and I were silent. I would never have thought that Hermione had violated the school rules. But now she presented everything as if she had deliberately committed a serious violation. And all this in order to get us out of trouble. It was as unexpected as if Snape had started handing out sweets to the students. “Miss Granger, it's your fault that five penalty points are being credited to Gryffindor!”  Professor McGonagall said dryly. “I had a very high opinion of you and was very disappointed by your misconduct. If you're okay, you'd better go back to Gryffindor Tower. All the faculties finish the interrupted festive dinner in their living rooms. Hermione left the room. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and me. “Well, even after listening to Miss Granger's story, I still maintain that you were just lucky. Nevertheless, not every freshman is able to cope with an adult mountain troll. Each of you gets five bonus points. I will inform Professor Dumbledore of what has happened. You can go now.” We hurriedly left the bathroom and didn't say a word until we were two floors up and finally breathed a sigh of relief. “You could have given us more than ten points," I grumbled. I would never have thought that the lives of children in this Britain's best school were valued so low. You could make a memorial plaque for us. “You mean five,” Harry corrected me. “Don't forget that she gave Hermione five points.” “She did well to get us out of trouble," I admitted. Although we actually saved her. “We probably wouldn't have had to save her if we hadn't locked the troll in the toilet,” Harry reminded him. He's right about that, of course. And it's worth apologizing to her. We came to the portrait of a Fat Lady. “Piglet," we said in one voice and climbed inside. It was crowded and noisy inside. Everyone made up for what they had missed at the banquet by eating the food that had been brought upstairs. Everyone except Hermione, who was standing off to the side, waiting for us. Harry and I walked up to her and froze, not knowing what to say. And then each of us said, "Thank you." “Granger, I'm sorry I said all that nonsense. You're the best student in the class. Do you want me to be your friend?” Harry nodded. “Me too.” “Thanks boys. I really want to.” And we hurried to the table. From that moment on, Hermione Granger became our friend. There are events that you can't help but feel sympathy for each other. And the victory over the four-meter mountain troll is undoubtedly one of such events.