Last time:

Sometime between the Basilisk event and Halloween

Marcus knocked politely on Snape's office door, then proceeded to open it at the 'Enter!' he received. Closing the door, he went over to his usual seat when giving a report. After about five years of long experience, the prefect knew better then to sit down before being given permission. Even when the permission was given in an almost irritable voice, he knew that his Head of House would be far more irritated if he didn't show respect. Then, of course, there was the waiting. He was not the most patient sort of person, but he had learned never to rush these meetings, lest he have his head bitten off for showing his frustration.

At last Snape looked up from his work to look at Marcus. His black gaze was as piercing as always, and the teen had to suppress a shudder. He sword that the Professor could intimidate dragons if he chose. Which was, of course, absolutely ridiculous to the man's point of view, if he had ever learned his prefect's thoughts. Not delaying anymore, Snape said in his silky voice "Good evening, Mr. Flint. I believe you came to report on how the Firsties are settling in, yes?" Marcus nodded, feeling relieved that the man had, as usual, gotten right to the point. He then responded by saying "They are getting along as well as could be expected. Crabbe and Goyle are particularly settling in well." Indeed, those two seemed to do fine with everything that didn't involve school-work.

"And Potter? How is our Reserve Seeker settling in?" asked Snape. Marcus replied "He seems to have gotten over his initial nervousness of the staff. Except for Professor Quirrel, of course." Snape raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise, asking "What does he not trust about the stuttering Defense teacher?" The teen responded by saying "I overheard Harry talking to Draco about a week ago on the same subject. Draco had asked Harry why he still seemed tense during DADA lessons. Harry merely replied that the man 'smelt like thunder', and would say no more." This did seem to surprise the Professor, who widened his eyes slightly before covering it up again with his bored look.

Severus was surprised at the information, though he hid it well. He, too, had felt uneasy around the Defense teacher since Albus had hired the bumbling fool. But never had he heard that unease described as 'smelling like thunder'. He suspected that the boy meant he sensed an ominous feeling about Quirrel, maybe even unwittingly sensing evil. If indeed he was, he Severus would have to keep a better eye on that turbaned man. Quirrel was likely not as he seemed to act, and that could be very dangerous. For now, he wanted the rest of Marcus' report. Trying not to seem too interested in Potter, he asked "How is Quidditch practice going?"

That had been the right thing to ask, as Marcus was very proud of his team, despite not being Captain. He responded "Very well, sir! You made a good decision to have Harry do try-outs with the rest of the hopefuls. Though the boy is too young to be a regular on the team, he is a wonderful Reserve. I suspect him doing magic on the pitch however, for his reflexes seem much better then they are on the ground. If you approach Harry on his left side when he is off a broom, he starts badly. But when he is up in the air, he seems to know where everything is, even some things behind him. He catches the Snitch almost as often as our Seeker does. It will be great to have him on the team next year."

Severus suspected that the teen would have gone on and on, if he hadn't been stopped. He said in a gentle voice "I understand, and I would listen to more, but it's nearly curfew. I suggest you get back to your House before it is. Thank you, Mr. Flint, for keeping an eye on the Firsties for me." Flint nodded, and left after being dismissed. Severus continued his grading, thinking on what he had learned that night. He hoped all would go well that year, but he seriously doubted it. He had a sneaking suspicion that he might have to call upon the Mischief Makers for assistance, as loathe as he was to ask any Lion for help. But Quirrel would be far too hard to watch without help, and those two were very discreet in any assistance he asked of them. Not that they always had the chance to be, but they were one of the few Lions whom Severus trusted at all. He would first see how things went between now and the first Quidditch game before he did so, though, as he didn't wish to do anything rash. That simply wouldn't do.

***

Halloween

Harry stuffed his fist in his mouth, attempting to stifle the constant hiccups. Hagrid had finally invited him to tea the Saturday before, saying that he could bring along a friend if he wished. It had been so good to see the giant of a man, that he had forgotten his natural cautiousness about food. He had thus eaten one of Hagrid's rock cakes, somehow or other. Ever since then he had been hiccuping. It was very annoying, and nothing but nothing had been able to rid him of the ridiculous sound. It was only through sheer power of will that he was able to keep them from interfering with his spell work, which he was now able to perform thanks to Madame Pomfrey's potion that had healed his throat. Pity he couldn't really enjoying being able to speak without pain, without his words being punctuated with a hiccup.

Of course, this had originally annoyed the teachers too on Monday. But after failing constantly to rid him of the sometimes painful hiccups, they had resigned themselves to the fact that they would go away on their own. This of course, did not help Harry any, who had to deal with them. If he had only known that that night would provide something truly frightening, enough so that he would be free of the hiccups. And, of course, wish he had kept them instead of what did happen.

For that night was the Halloween feast, Which was a great joy to the students. Harry, however, had decided not to join Draco at the feast. He had discovered that his parents had died that night ten years ago, and he just felt that it wouldn't be proper to eat until he was sick that night. Maybe on another night, he would, but tonight he was just content to study in an empty classroom on the second floor. Of course, it had taken much convincing to get Draco off his back, who didn't want Harry off on his own. But he'd finally been convinced, and would cover for his friend if needed.

Because Harry was not at the feast, he did not hear about the troll that had gotten in the dungeons. All he was aware of was that there was a rush of students outside. Thinking that the feast might be over, he began collecting his things so he could return to the Slytherin common room. Harry would never know what made him hide behind the door, maybe a sixth sense about danger, but when he heard the stomping feet that was far louder then anything Vernon could produce, he was grateful.

Activating his magic sight, he gulped when he saw the giant size of the heat source. The thing was at least twelve feet tall, and stank to high heaven. Turning off the sight, he waited until the stomping faded before creeping out of the classroom. He was just about to head towards the stairs, when a very feminine shriek of terror sounded. Normally Harry might have just continued on his way (he was after all a Slytherin), except for the fact that he had felt the danger that had just barely past him. Feeling obligated in some way to help the girl who was no doubt cornered by the danger, he turned on his heel and ran to where the stink was coming from.

It turned out to be the girls bathroom, where a giant creature was walking further in. Harry crept inside, trying to peer around the creature at what was about to become it's prey if Harry didn't intervene. The girl made it easier for her to spot him, running into his sight briefly in her attempts to avoid the club the creature was swinging. It was Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor know-it-all. Though he didn't exactly like the girl, he did sort of feel a kinship to her in her effort to get the best grades possible. She was also a Hogwarts student, and despite House rivalries he couldn't let her be killed. Thus he did one of the most exceedingly stupid things he had ever done. He got the creatures attention.

Of course, once he had it's attention, he didn't know what to do with it. It's club was now swinging at him, and it took Harry all his skill at dodging things that kept him from being hit. What happened next, Harry could only describe as very odd. It was as if the club had taken a life of it's own, and was beating the creature about the head. It didn't take much before the creature fell, and Harry and Hermione were looking at each other with awe. It was only when he stumbled from sheer exhaustion did they stop just looking at each other, and Harry realized he had performed accidental magic. For once, he was glad of it, for it had saved their life.

Hermione was by his side in an instant, though she too was stumbling a bit. Her legs were still shaking from the after effects of the fear that had been coursing through her. She held him up, and was just about to say something when an all too familiar voice sounded behind them "Why is it, that whenever there is trouble, I find you right in the thick of it, Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned slowly, gulping as he looked upon the very angry face of his Head of House. He exchanged a look with Hermione. They were both thinking the same thing: we are in trouble. But at least they were safe, and the worse a teacher could do to them would be to expel them. Even Hermione realized, now, that it was a much better prospect then being dead. Harry, however, suspected he would likely be dead anyways if he was expelled. His Uncle would not be too happy to see him on his door step several months to early. One of the few bright sides to this awful episode was that his hiccups were finally gone, though Harry could once again not enjoy the fact, ironically.