Harry Potter: From Baldur's Gate to Hogwarts

"I don't need to wait until tonight—I can beat you up right now!" Harry shook his hand and swung another punch straight into Malfoy's nose. Blood gushed instantly as Malfoy staggered, and Crabbe and Goyle froze in place, staring at Malfoy, unsure of what to do.

"What are you looking at? Hit him!" Malfoy yelled.

With that, Crabbe and Goyle lunged at Harry.

"False Life! Mage Armor!" Harry quickly buffed himself with two spells, then cast Expeditious Retreat on Crabbe. Taking a heavy punch from Goyle, Harry sank low, stepped forward with his left foot, and delivered a fierce uppercut to Crabbe's jaw with his right fist.

A muffled thud echoed as Crabbe's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground. Moments later, after just a few more exchanges, Goyle also swayed and toppled over. Left standing was Draco Malfoy, who hadn't yet recovered from the shock.

Seeing his two cronies knocked out cold, the pampered young Malfoy could barely stand, trembling in fear.

Luckily for him, just as Harry was about to deliver another blow, a cold voice sounded behind them.

"No fighting in the Great Hall, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape announced as he stepped over the unconscious Crabbe and Goyle, placing himself between Harry and Malfoy. "Now, Malfoy, care to explain what happened here?"

"Professor, Potter, Weasley, and Granger all ganged up on me! Crabbe and Goyle were just trying to protect me, but Potter knocked them out! You have to do something about this!" Malfoy wiped the sweat off his brow, glaring maliciously at the trio.

"Starting a brawl, injuring your classmates—Gryffindor loses another fifty points, and you'll all serve a week's detention. Potter, Weasley, Granger—any objections?"

Snape's gaze lingered on Ron and Hermione, who looked furious, before finally settling on Harry.

"It was me who hit them. This has nothing to do with Ron or Hermione. But, Professor, don't you want to know why I hit them?" Harry asked, defiant.

"The reason doesn't matter. You struck first, so—"

"Professor, Harry only acted because Malfoy called me a Mudblood!" Hermione suddenly interrupted, her voice cutting through Snape's cold dismissal.

"Draco," Snape turned to Malfoy, his tone eerily calm, "is what Granger said true?"

"I... I... well... but they hit me first!" Malfoy stammered, avoiding Snape's piercing gaze.

"I asked you a question. Is. It. True?" Snape's tone grew icier with every word.

"...It's true," Malfoy finally muttered, barely audible.

"One hundred points from Slytherin," Snape declared, his voice devoid of emotion. "And Malfoy, you and your friends will serve a month of detention."

The news of Snape docking a hundred points from his own house and sentencing Malfoy and his cronies to a month of detention spread through the school like wildfire.

Naturally, Gryffindors cheered at the news, while Slytherins were devastated. As Fred so aptly put it, "The sky's fallen on Slytherin."

Although Snape had been too furious to punish Harry at the time, Professor McGonagall wasn't as lenient. She wasted no time assigning Harry two weeks of detention as a follow-up.

---

The evening after the incident, Harry, with his homework in tow, knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door.

"Professor, I'm here for detention," Harry said, setting his backpack on a chair by the wall and calmly walking up to her desk with his Transfiguration and Charms homework.

"Take a seat, Potter," McGonagall replied without looking up from the stack of essays she was grading.

"Yes, Professor," Harry responded, sitting down across from her. Without hesitation, he began working on his Transfiguration assignment, occasionally standing up to ask McGonagall for help when he didn't understand something.

Two hours later, detention ended uneventfully, and Harry left McGonagall's office feeling oddly satisfied.

As for what his detention entailed? McGonagall never mentioned it, and Harry never asked.

---

When Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, it was already 10:30 p.m. Most students had retired to their dormitories, leaving only a few stragglers behind. Among them were the usual culprits planning their nightly escapades and a group—including Ron and Seamus—who were furiously trying to finish their Potions homework.

Harry sighed, exasperated, but something unusual caught his eye. In the corner, curled up in an armchair, was Hermione, fast asleep with a blanket slipping off her lap.

After greeting Ron and the others, Harry walked over to Hermione, picked up the fallen blanket, and gently covered her with it. Without a word, he headed upstairs to his dormitory.

The next morning, Hermione woke up in the armchair with a stiff neck.

---

"Ron, there's something I've always wondered," Harry said after Herbology class as they made their way to the Great Hall. The festive atmosphere of the school was growing, with Halloween decorations popping up everywhere. "Why do wizards celebrate the same holidays as Muggles?"

"Uh... good question," Ron said, scratching his head. "Honestly, I've no idea. Like, my family doesn't follow any religion or anything, but we still celebrate Halloween and Christmas like Muggles do."

The scent of roasted pumpkins filled the air as the two chatted. They passed Hermione, who was rushing by in a hurry. Harry was about to greet her but was stopped by Ron.

Perhaps because of his newfound friends, Harry realized he no longer felt the need to take "shortcuts" through life as often. However, having these friends also brought its own set of challenges. Lately, Harry felt as though he were caught in some strange mental tug-of-war, the source of which was none other than Hermione and Ron.

At some point, the two had come to an unspoken agreement about "sharing" Harry. Odd-numbered days were Hermione's, and even-numbered days were Ron's. For example, today—September 30—was an even day, so Harry "belonged" to Ron.

Unfortunately, that fragile balance between Hermione and Ron completely unraveled that afternoon.

---

The first class after lunch was Charms. Things were going smoothly until Professor Flitwick paired students based on their skill levels.

Harry ended up paired with Seamus, while the two students who clashed most often in the entire class—Hermione and Ron—were assigned to each other.

Harry turned to glance at the two sitting together, silently praying that the lesson would end without any explosions—literal or otherwise.

-

"Alright, don't forget that subtle wrist movement we've been practicing!"

Professor Flitwick stood as usual atop his pile of books. "Swish and flick, remember! It's swish and flick. And make sure you pronounce the incantation correctly. Don't forget poor Baruffio, who said 'f' instead of 's' and ended up with a buffalo on his chest."

His words sounded simple, but putting them into practice was an entirely different matter.

Take Harry and Seamus, for example. Despite Seamus nearly shaking his arm out of its socket, the feather in front of them lay as still as ever on the table. Frustrated, Seamus finally lashed out with his wand, which, rather effectively, set the feather ablaze.

If Harry and Seamus's struggles were chaotic, Ron and Hermione's pairing could only be described as catastrophic—the entire classroom could hear their bickering.

"It's Wing-gar-di-um Levi-o-sa, and you need to stress the 'gar' clearly," Hermione corrected Ron for the umpteenth time.

"If you're so smart, why don't you do it yourself?!" Ron snapped back.

"Gladly." Hermione waved Ron aside with a flourish, rolled up her sleeves, raised her wand, and performed the movement perfectly. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather in front of them floated gracefully off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Well done! Ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor Flitwick clapped enthusiastically. "Everyone, look—Miss Granger has succeeded!"

Hermione raised her chin with pride, her face glowing with accomplishment.

What followed was Hermione being used as an example by Professor Flitwick, after which she eagerly began instructing Ron on how to wave his wand, pronounce the spell, and focus his mind.

By the time class ended, Ron's face was a storm cloud of barely contained frustration.

"No wonder no one can stand her. I've heard even the girls in her dormitory avoid her," Ron muttered as he and Harry left the classroom, jostling through the crowd. He clutched The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 to his chest, his mood sour.

"Oh, it's not Wingardium Leviosa," he mimicked Hermione's voice with exaggerated contempt. "It's Wing-gar-di-um Levi-o-sa. She's always bossing me around, nitpicking my pronunciation one moment and my wand movement the next. It's infuriating! If she weren't a girl, I'd have punched her ages ago. I hate people like that—thinking they're better than everyone else. She doesn't belong in Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat should've dumped her in Slytherin!"

Ron was just getting into his rant when a figure suddenly darted past them. Harry instinctively raised a hand to wave but was stopped by Ron grabbing his wrist. "Ignore her."

"But I think Hermione was crying," Harry said, looking worriedly at the retreating figure.

"Crying? Serves her right! She had it coming, bossing me around like that!" Ron glared after her, but Harry thought he detected a flicker of guilt in Ron's tone.

After Charms class came Herbology. Harry spent the entire break trying to persuade Ron to apologize to Hermione, but Ron stubbornly insisted he had done nothing wrong.

When they arrived at the greenhouse, Harry noticed Hermione wasn't there. She wasn't sitting in her usual spot, pre-reading the textbook. In fact, she never showed up to class at all.

After the lesson, Ron and Harry silently headed toward the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Along the way, they overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that Hermione had been crying in the girls' bathroom near the dungeons all afternoon and wouldn't let anyone comfort her.

"Ron, you go ahead. Don't wait for me," Harry said after a moment's hesitation. Then, he jumped down the stairs, heading toward the bathroom. Ron stood there, stunned.

With a mix of the Levitation Charm and Jumping Spell, Harry leaped from the sixth floor to the first, much to the shock of onlookers. Fighting his way through the crowd streaming toward the Great Hall, he ran toward the girls' bathroom near the dungeons.

--

Hermione Granger had always been a fiercely determined girl. She excelled in her studies and basked in the praise of teachers and parents. But with this came a price—her classmates often excluded her.

For six years in primary school, Hermione had endured being ostracized. She thought coming to a magical school might be different, but once again, her earnestness to prove herself had alienated her peers.

Over time, she had grown used to it. But no amount of experience could dull the sting when someone deliberately tore open her wounds. And here, at Hogwarts, she had no home to retreat to, no parents to comfort her.

So, she cried. She told herself it was okay to cry, as long as no one could see her. She let the loneliness and pain wash over her, and when she was done, she would hold her head high and face the world again. She would show them—those who mocked or dismissed her—that Hermione Granger was stronger than they imagined.

As she sobbed in the stall, the sound of knocking interrupted her.

"Hermione, are you in there?"

There was a pause, and then the boy outside spoke again. "Hermione, I know you're upset and probably don't want to talk to anyone. But I'm not just anyone—we're friends, aren't we? Please come out. Whatever's bothering you, you can tell me. I'm here, Hermione. I'm Harry Potter, and I would never abandon a friend."

After a long silence, the bathroom door creaked open, and a mop of bushy brown hair peeked out.

"Do you need a shoulder to cry on?" Harry grinned warmly, looking at the tear-streaked girl.

"I don't need your stupid shoulder!" Hermione retorted, wiping her face and giving Harry a weak punch in the chest.

Harry staggered dramatically, pretending she had knocked him over.

"I'm Hermione Granger!" she declared, raising her head proudly.

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