Disclaimer- The Wizarding World and all in it belongs to JKR, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros, etc.

Author's note- I feel like I write way less than I ought to, and get to write way less than I want to. Yet, this is another chapter done, and I hope you all like it. Next one is in the works, and will be out soon.

Tide's note- The plot, like my gravy, thickens.

Sassy's note- This might be the best chapter yet- or at least, it's my favourite part in the first books so, yeah ;)

Clearly this was not what she was expecting. She was more flustered now, with the fickleness usually associated with amateurs.

"Harry, why are we trapped in this memory."

"Oh, you're not trapped. It's simply that we cannot leave before the memory ends. In any case of urgency, you could hit me with a stunner, and we will be right out of the pensieve."

To her credit, she recovered awfully quickly, "So very curious. And you say this memory is when you were six, that makes it around…"

"A long time ago."

For some reason, I didn't want to talk about the specifics. It was time to face the demons of my past.

Conquest of fear

Sunday, Halloween.

By lunch it had become evident to Harry that something was amiss. His friends were quiet, almost too quiet and he felt as though they were walking on eggshells around him.

"Okay, spit it out." Harry said finally.

Clearly startled, Hermione tried to shrug it off.

"Seriously, what's wrong? You've both stuck to me like glue since this morning, and while I appreciate the company, I'd like to know what's going on."

"It's Halloween, Harry" Hermione said softly, as though it explained everything.

"Yeah, Happy Halloween." Harry responded, slightly confused.

Harry saw Ron's ears go red, which was a telltale sign of him hiding something.

"Am I missing something? Why are you all acting so strange?!" Looking at their vacant faces, Harry shook his head and continued, "This is my first festive day away from the Dursleys, and yeah, the duel did put a bummer on things, but it's all fine now, isn't it?"

"We thought you'd know, mate," Ron spoke in a cautious tone. "Today was when You-Know-Who was defeated…" Ron trailed off, his voice merging with the din from around them.

"Oh. Ohh...". It dawned onto him pretty quickly, all too suddenly why his friends wouldn't leave him alone since morning. It had been exactly ten years since You-Know-Who had attacked his parents. This day. Halloween.

Harry felt empty, and suddenly exhausted. The pitiful glances he had been receiving all day made a lot more sense now.

"See you both in the common room." Harry said, and made his way out of the Great Hall, ignoring looks thrown his way.

He quickly made his way back to the common room. In his dormitory, he found Neville sitting cross-legged on his bed, looking quite miserable. Eager to get his mind off things, Harry decided to get Professor Alpharde's homework done. He had to submit a thorough breakdown of the duel, highlighting the various scenarios where he might have used a spell differently, or a different spell altogether. It would definitely keep him busy.

"Rough day too, Neville?" Harry asked without looking, as he took out some parchment and his duelling text.

"Yeah," Neville responded.

Harry smiled at him reassuringly, and got to work.

Needless to say, Harry got distracted half an hour into it. He rubbed his eyes- the professor's words ringing clear in his head- Your focus is askew. Shaking himself together, he got back to it with renewed energy.

An hour later, he took a break and began searching for his finance book, How to save Gold from Wizards and Keep it. He found it with a layer of dust amongst other unused items. Annoyed with himself, he sighed and got back to the essay.

Sometime during the day, Ron came up to the dorm holding his chess set.

"Fancy a round, Harry?"

"No Ron, I need to submit this assignment," Harry answered distantly.

"The duelling one?" Ron asked as he sat beside him. "You've been at it for an awful lot of time."

"Tough assignment," Harry mumbled.

The day painstakingly passed this way. Harry realised just how difficult he found studying to be. Not that he didn't understand the text, but rather the effort needed to put in while writing a good, informative essay was no joke. It made him appreciate Hermione, as she not only did her work, but always made time for his and Ron's last minute submissions.

Once evening finally fell, the common room began to get a festive feel. Sir Nicholas floated around asking if anyone was interested in attending his deathday feast, which no one seemed too inclined towards. But as it was, even Sir Nicholas's unusual melancholy questions couldn't bring down the mood of the room.

Harry asked Ron not to wait for him as he finished his assignment. It had been grueling, sure, but he had done his best. In hindsight, Harry realised that he had learnt more in the last few hours about duelling than he had the entire term. He mused that the duel would have turned out pretty different, had he been this prepared.

Ron left with Seamus and Dean, leaving him alone with Neville once again.

"Are you alright Harry?" Neville asked while putting on his robe, no doubt for the Halloween feast.

"Yeah Neville," Harry said, and closed his book, "just that I don't really feel like going for the feast."

"Me neither," Neville said sadly. "But I missed lunch, you know, and I think I'll brave the crowd. I'm sorry about today, it must be hard for you."

Harry looked at his classmate, who was definitely more depressed than him and was still trying to console him. "Yeah, you don't look good too, is everything alright?" Harry asked, and then narrowed his eyes, "Is it Malfoy?"

"No, no…" Neville chuckled and grew sombre. He paused as if making his mind about something, and then continued, "Just that, Halloween is a sad day for me too."

Neville cleared his throat, "When I was five, maybe, it was around Halloween, that there was an attack at my home. And my parents became really sick after that. I visit them, when gran takes me, but it seems they don't realize I'm there," Neville croakily finished. Lost for words, Harry got up from his desk and enwrapped his friend in a hug.

"They'll get better soon, Neville, I promise." Harry said patting him on the back. "Till then, we must work hard to make them proud, right?"

Neville nodded.

Halfway down the Grand Staircase, Harry decided that attending the Halloween feast was probably not a good idea. The castle was now a frenzy of activity, with lit pumpkins floating around and a joyful ring of laughter buzzing everywhere. Various paintings around the hallways joined in the festivities by wearing costumes of their era and calling for toasts every now and again. Their constant bickering did little to improve Harry's mood.

Passing by the fifth floor, Harry and Neville encountered a group of fourth year Ravenclaw girls, giggling amongst themselves. On seeing Harry, they shushed out, replacing their expressions with those of sympathy all too suddenly. It made Harry sick. First the backlash from the duel, now all the pity, Harry found himself suffocated by the attention.

"Go on, Neville," he whispered, "The duelling class is around here, right? I'll check if Professor Alpharde is around. Get my essay checked early."

Before Neville could respond, Harry took a sharp turn into the corridors and paced towards the classroom. The fifth floor was one of the least populated areas in the castle, apart from the third floor, of course. The headmaster's assurance of a painful death kept everyone away from the third floor corridor (or the Forbidden Corridor, as Ron's elder brothers had named it).

This was when he nearly crashed into someone coming around the corner.

"Professor Quirrell!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, not expecting to run into his Defence professor on a deserted floor.

"G-g-good evening, Mr. P-potter," Quirrell responded with his typical stutter. "Shouldn't you b-be at the f-feast?"

Harry looked around, "Was hoping to find Professor Alpharde, for an assignment," he finished lamely, hoping Quirrell wouldn't pry.

"Working h-hard, eh, P-p-potter. B-but assignments on d-duelling shouldn't be d-done on p-paper, I h-hope the classes are m-more p-p-practical." Quirrell stammered trembling slightly, extending his arm for the assignment. Harry fished it out of his book bag and handed it to him.

They stood there awkwardly for a while as Quirrell skimmed through the parchment.

"You m-missed the V-verd-dimillious charm." Quirrell stated.

"Verdi- what?" Harry asked, dumbfounded by the fact that Quirrell was giving pointers.

"V-v-verdimillious charm, P-potter, we studied it in class. Offensive, n-non lethal, v-very handy in b-beginner duels."

Quirrell handed the parchment back to Harry. "G-good work, Mr. P-p-potter," he said and trudged towards the stairway. Harry gathered his wits and made way to the Duelling classroom.

Much to his dismay, the class was locked.

Harry sank to the floor, distraught about the day. Of all classes, he had always thought Quirrell's to be somewhat of a joke, but apparently, he would have fared much better in the duel had he been more attentive. Oddly, Harry felt, the duel brought more issues than he expected. Tension between him and his housemates, with the Slytherins, and with himself. Tracey was true to her word, the duel was a big deal.

Harry brought out ink and a quill, writing down Verdimillious under the non-lethal spells question. He sat there for a while, glad to be away from the crowds.

As the minutes ticked by, Harry felt he should return to the common room. Lost in thought, he had been sitting aimlessly for sometime now, and he had no clue how late it was. But something felt wrong to him.

The smell hit him first. It was horrendous, like sewage, but more overbearing. Harry primarily suspected Goyle, but Goyle wouldn't miss the feast for anything. Dusting himself up, he ran towards the floor exit but what he saw next stopped him dead in his tracks.

A monster, disgustingly ugly, thrice as tall as him, wielding a gigantic club that could surely crush him in one blow. It was scratching its ear with a candle stand, swaying in the corridors.

Harry went blank, and shouted out in pure terror. The day had gone from bad to worse, to this absolute nightmare. The scream definitely got the trolls attention. It banged the club on the floor twice and quickly rushed towards the young boy. Harry scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over his robes and ran towards the duelling class. In the back of his mind reality seeped in, that with the class being locked he was running towards a dead end.

He looked back to see that the troll hadn't gained distance on him, which was fortunate, and was quick to realise why. The troll now had a huge lump on his already lumpy forehead, which was probably due to it running into a stone archway. Harry hid behind a stone griffin, catching his breath. He could scream for help, but with everyone at the feast, it would be of no use. He was panicking. It began to sink in that one wrong move and he could die. The troll certainly wouldn't hesitate.

Situational awareness, Potter.

Duelling is a lot about situational improvisation, students never get that.

Harry snapped back to reality. Shaking himself together, he tried to reason. One advantage he had was that the troll was dumb. It was predictable. Harry had to improvise, and he had to do so quickly.

"Fumos." Harry whispered, hoping that the troll wouldn't notice him.

Surely enough, a thick smoke streamed out of the tip of his wand, engulfing the corridor. The troll grunted loudly, probably in confusion, and took a mighty swing at the smoke. Cramped for space, the blow stuck a pillar, reducing it to rubble.

Harry watched incredulously as his only getaway now had a gigantic troll swinging a club, that could certainly blow his head off if he made any other bad decision.

The smoke had begun to dissipate, and Harry started to panic as the troll trudged nearer to him. Any closer, and it probably would be able to sniff him out.

Harry bent down and picked up a large piece of rubble. Taking aim at a brass shield that decorated the floor, he threw the rock with all his might. The throw struck good, and a loud 'clang' resonated through the halls, distracting the ogre long enough for Harry to make a run around the back.

For a moment, it all seemed to work out. The troll was denting the brass shield, hitting it with an incredible vengeance, as Harry turned the last corner silently. He could nearly see the grand staircase too, when suddenly a shrill voice rang from afront.

"HAAAARRY!"

It was Hermione.

"Hermione, RUN!" Harry screamed back, sprinting along the corridor, not daring to look back. He could hear laboured breaths and grunts, and could only assume the troll was right on his heels. Hermione let out a shocked cry, and clamoured away, leading Harry by a few steps. They reached the grand staircase, and hurriedly started climbing towards the sixth floor.

Midway on the stairs, Harry lurched towards the side, and caught Hermione's hand to steady her. The stairs they were on had begun to move.

They watched in silence as the distance between them and the fifth floor increased. Hermione gasped as the troll came into sight, and flinched as it ran headfirst into another low stone arch in the corridor's entrance. Harry felt that they were safe now, as there was no way a troll could fly. The stair had docked itself onto the sixth floor, and they moved back with uncertainty, making as little noise as they could. Meanwhile, the troll had seemed to have recovered and hadn't lost sight of its target. It banged it's club on the floor once, then again, and took a huge leap towards where Hermione and Harry were standing. Harry instinctively rushed back, pulling Hermione out of her daze, but it seemed as if they weren't in danger anymore.

The troll had missed the dangling end of the staircase by a significant distance, and in a series of incredulous events, grasping at thin air, it fell down five whole flights of stairs onto the stone ground. The crash reverberated throughout the entire building, causing a few paintings to fall over, and it's residents to burst into a flurry of expletives. Harry exchanged a look with Hermione, and promptly sank at the sixth floor portico as his legs gave way.

Needless to say, the crash brought everyone out of the Great Hall, led by the headmaster himself. Dumbledore spoke pensively to a portrait, and spared a quick glance to where Harry and Hermione were. He whispered someone to his deputy, and the colour drained from Professor McGonagall's face as she put the events together. The students were ushered back into the hall, with the deputy headmistress making her way up the long staircase.

"To the Hospital Wing at once, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," McGonagall burst out, as soon as she was in earshot. She couldn't believe that two first years would have something to do with a mountain troll! It was unheard of, and ridiculously dangerous.

"And what were the two of you doing, away from the rest of the students?" She exclaimed. "Nevermind that for now," she said absently, helping Hermione to her feet, "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey first. Then, I will need an explanation."

Had Harry not been in a state of shock, he would have groaned.

The very next day, Professor Alpharde asked Harry and Hermione to stay back after class and meet him in his office, as he collected the assignments from the Slytherin students.

"So I hear that you had quite an interesting evening yesterday Mr. Potter," Professor Alpharde said as he entered, hanging his violet outer robe on a stand. He sat at his desk, motioning them to the two seats across himself, holding his hand out in anticipation.

Harry fumbled through his bag for the assignment and handed it over.

Muric stacked all the assignments together, and began leafing through the parchments. "Go on Mr. Potter, I'm curious."

Harry shared a brief look with Hermione, wondering if the professor was being sarcastic. Sensing no apprehension, he narrated everything as it unfolded, leaving out the heavy feeling of pity and sympathy he felt during it.

"Professor Quirell, you say?" Muric interrupted inquisitively, "Did he seem nervous, or, how do I put this… distant? In his way of speech."

"No more than usual, sir." Harry said, "He was very helpful really, he looked over my assignment too." Muric nodded asking Harry to continue.

Harry was shaking in his seat by the time he finished retelling his experience. As more time passed, the gravity of his situation sunk in more, that he and Hermione could have been gravely injured. Even killed.

Muric had stopped his work and was examining them intently.

"There are a few things I do not understand," he began, "Why were you at the fifth floor Potter, during the feast?"

"I had to show you my assignment, sir." Harry said hesitantly.

"On a holiday? Please Mr. Potter, now is not the time for hiding behind lies." Muric dismissively said.

Harry sighed. "I wanted to be away from the crowds, Professor. It was suffocating me. All the attention from the duel, from the fact that it was Halloween… I just wanted to be somewhere quiet." Harry spoke bitterly, letting out all his frustration.

"And you, Ms. Granger? What was the reason of your presence?"

"Neville," she said coarsely, and continued after clearing her throat, "Neville told me that Harry went into the fifth floor corridor, and I wanted to give him company."

Muric leaned back into his seat, as if contemplating the entire situation. "A fascinating turn of events, surely..." he said slowly after a long while. "For a couple of first years, you students did well, I must say. It is understandable."

They sat in silence while Muric corrected Harry's assignment. "Potter, this is very detailed, significantly better -"

"Why is it understandable, sir? Why does it always have to be understandable?!" Harry suddenly said. "What could we have done?! I was terrified, Professor! But you know what, I was fine with it. I was okay with the fact that a twelve feet troll can roam around and do as it pleases."

Harry took a deep breath.

"But tell me Professor, that when you say it is understandable, why do you look so very disappointed in me."

Hermione swayed in her seat as blood drained out of her face. She was aghast. What was Harry thinking?! She glared daggers at him, partly in awe, and partly furious, at the tone he was talking to a teacher.

"Harry!" She exclaimed.

"No, Ms. Granger." Muric said, "Mr. Potter is right. Listen to me Potter, and listen intently."

Muric straightened up and spoke, "It was 1703, a terrifying time in Magical America. With notorious magicians aliased Scourers roaming the streets, free to do as they pleased. They would kill, steal, and take advantage of unsuspecting Muggles, all because they could."

"The first batch of aurors were commissioned to fight and capture these outlaws, but it was a hollow effort, for there was no stability and the government didn't have any resources to share with the twelve of them."

Muric continued sombrely, unaware of the confused expressions Harry and Hermione bore.

"Six of them lost their lives in a freak incident of a rogue Fiendfyre, they died protecting hundreds of muggles. Another three died in guerilla attacks. But there was one, perhaps the most skilled of them, who survived any and all attempts on his life."

"He would work hard, diligently, everyday without complaints. Had a moral compass so strong, that everyone respected and admired him. He once fought four scourers to a standstill, with the disadvantage of using non lethal spells, while they aimed to kill. He always fought against the odds and always won."

"Why are you telling us this, Professor?" Harry asked.

"His name was Abraham, Abraham Potter. And somewhere in your veins runs the same blood which ran in the legendary auror." Muric finished gravely. "So forgive me for being disappointed Potter, for I will always expect more than what is understandable. Because I believe that it is in dire situations when a person can become more than they ever imagined."

"But I was so scared, sir."

"Courage is not the absence of fear. That would be recklessness. Courage is the conquest of fear. Bravery is the cornerstone of a Gryffindor, and it is in these dire situations, where you can truly show bravery."

There was a moment of silence.

"Which you students did," Muric breathed. "Especially you, Harry, you showed calmness, and escaped without a scratch. It warrants praise, and I may be wrong by expecting more in a life or death situation. But remember this, you will always have a way out of any situation, if you can keep a calm head."

Muric sat back and gave them a rare smile. "As I was saying, this assignment is very well written. I expect Ms. Granger helped?"

"No sir," Hermione interjected before Harry could, "it was all Harry."

"I see." Muric chuckled, "Take five points, for the most detailed analysis of a duel I've ever corrected. It's already five times longer than I usually ask for."

"Read this out loud," Muric passed the parchment to Harry, tapping on a paragraph he had written.

"One of the sureshot ways to end any duel is to take away the wand from the opponent. This can be achieved by timing a banishing spell - Flipendo, right at the wrist of the caster, and with the right intensity, and aim, their wand will be banished from their hands."

Harry looked up, "This is what I did, Professor, during the duel with Malfoy."

"Ex-pell-iar-mus," Muric enunciated. "Read on this spell. I suspect this rings a bell, Ms. Granger?"

"No sir," Hermione said timidly.

"Alright then. You may both leave."

"Sir," Harry probed, "Could we get a signed parchment from you explaining why we are late, Professor Quirell would ask us for it."

"Oh, that shall not be necessary. Haven't you heard? Professor Quirrell has gone missing since before the feast." Muric said, and looking at their surprised faces he continued, "You were the last person to see him, Potter."

Fic Recommendation- Let's go for an Archive of our own fic today, which you all possibly haven't heard of- 'To refuse the given', by snark. It was a refreshing Harry-Daphne. Something I thoroughly enjoyed.

I feel the stage is set to start diverging from Canon, exciting times ahead folks. Also, Sassy leaves the beta team, but her words stay as a part of the story forever. Thanks Sassy, for all your help.