Time passed quickly, and by the time the faint smell of pumpkin drifted through the castle, evening had already settled in.
It was Halloween, and the day's lessons had flown by. Evening had fallen, and the Great Hall would soon fill for the banquet. Rigel hadn't seen Hermione anywhere, and only one thought came to mind: asking Susan if she knew anything. After all, they had shared Charms that morning, and perhaps she could give him a clue.
Without hesitation, he approached the Hufflepuff table, closing the distance to Susan, who was chatting with Hannah and a few other girls. "Excuse me, but may I borrow Susan for just a moment?" he asked politely, his tone measured yet insistent.
Susan looked up, slightly surprised, but a small smile curved her lips. "Sure… just a moment," she said, giving a quick nod to Hannah and the others before stepping aside with Rigel.
Once they were a few steps away from the table, Rigel lowered his voice just enough to keep their conversation private. "Susan… have you seen Hermione tonight? I haven't spotted her at the banquet yet."
Susan tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "Hmm… I'm not entirely sure. I saw her running after Charms while in the yard, with a tear on her face. She seemed… hurt, but I wasn't certain if I was the right person to talk to her…"
Then, in an almost imperceptible whisper, she added, "At least not after the other day…" before letting out a soft huff. Rigel caught every word, filing it away, though he didn't comment at the moment.
Susan continued, her tone gentler, tinged with concern. "But maybe you could be. I think the best place to find her is the girls' restroom… not the one on the second floor, though.... that one's… infested. Sorry I can't be more helpful." A small, apologetic smile played on her lips.
Rigel shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his own lips. "What are you talking about? You've been more than helpful. I'll make sure to repay you for this." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, almost like a brief hug.
"Thanks again… now I need to go. See you later," he said smoothly, his voice soft but deliberate.
Susan's cheeks colored slightly, and she murmured "Nothing, See you later."
She nodded and returned to her table, the faintest red lingering on her cheeks as she rejoined her friends.
The moment her back was turned, Rigel left the Great Hall.
Step by step, he moved away from the warmth and noise of the feast, the laughter and clatter fading behind him as he headed for the nearest girls' bathroom.
When he reached the door, he stopped.
For the first time since leaving the table, he hesitated... an uncharacteristic flicker of awareness settling in. He drew in a slow breath, then exhaled just as carefully.
Then he opened the door and slipped inside.
The first thing that reached him was the sound of a sob.
Soft, broken. Coming from one of the stalls.
Rigel froze.
He would have recognized that voice anywhere. He had grown up with it, shared silence with it, trusted it. It belonged to the one person he could never mistake.
Hermione.
A quiet breath escaped him, more tension than sound. His shoulders stiffened, the weight of what came next settling in. For all his practiced composure, this was different. Not something he could plan his way through.
Step by careful step, he closed the distance to the stall, then stopped and knocked trice.
"Hermione," he said quietly. "Are you alright? May I come in? We need to talk."
The stall door swung open sharply, and Hermione emerged as if pushed by the weight of her own emotions.
Her eyes were red and swollen, lashes clumped with tears she clearly hadn't managed to stop for some time. She tried to speak, failed, and dragged in a shaky breath that ended in a quiet sob she clearly hated letting escape.
Rigel's chest tightened at the sight. His fingertips trembled slightly, heart hammering as a dozen thoughts collided at once. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words tangled before they could reach his mouth.
Hermione swallowed hard, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, angry at herself even as tears continued to fall.
"It's about..." she began, then stopped, voice cracking. She shook her head once, as if steadying herself. "It's about how you don't want… to be my friend."
She looked up at him then, eyes bright with hurt rather than helplessness."Like you keep calling me Granger."
The words landed heavier than any accusation.
Rigel stood frozen, breath shallow, his thoughts racing too fast to catch. "Hermione, I.."
"You stopped talking to me like before." she continued, voice trembling but gaining strength. "You won't sit with me, you won't even look at me properly. And I don't understand why." Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "Did I do something wrong?"
He stepped forward instinctively, lifting a hand toward her shoulder.
She flinched back at once.
"Don't," she said sharply, then winced as her voice broke. "Please… don't."
Rigel's hand dropped. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quickly, the words tumbling out unevenly. "I just thought… maybe it would be better if I kept my distance."
"Better for who?" Hermione shot back, blinking hard as more tears slipped free. "Because it certainly wasn't better for me."
Silence stretched between them.
"I'm a Slytherin," Rigel said quietly. "And you're a Gryffindor. People already look at me like I'm trouble. I didn't want that rubbing off on you."
Hermione stared at him, stunned, then let out a short, incredulous laugh that turned into a sob halfway through.
"So that's it?" she demanded. "You decided for me?" Her voice sharpened, cutting through the tears. "You think I care what house you're in?"
"That's not what I meant," he said, panic edging his tone. "I just didn't want to ruin things for you, and most of the Gryffindor would isolate you if they knew your friend with a Slytherin. I didn't want people ignoring you because of me."
Hermione's expression shifted....not softer, but clearer.
"That's ridiculous," she said, wiping her cheeks fiercely. "And it's not your decision to make." She sniffed, straightening her posture despite the tears. "If you don't want to be my friend, then say it properly. Don't just… disappear."
Rigel's throat tightened. "I don't want to disappear from you," he said, barely above a whisper. "You're my best friend."
She held his gaze for a long moment, breathing unevenly.
"…You're an idiot," she said finally, voice hoarse but not unkind.
"…You're an idiot," she said finally, her voice hoarse, but not unkind.
Rigel understood then things weren't broken beyond repair. Relief slipped out of him in a quiet breath, his shoulders loosening for the first time since he'd entered.
He opened his mouth to answer.
Creeeak.
The bathroom door slowly swung open.
A wave of foul stench flooded the room, rotting filth and damp stone so thick it burned the back of his throat. Heavy footsteps followed, each one shaking the tiles beneath their feet.
A low, guttural grunt rolled through the bathroom.
Rigel's relief vanished instantly.
His mind snapped sharp. In one swift movement, he stepped in front of Hermione, placing himself squarely between her and the source of the sound, wand already drawn.
"I'll distract it," he said, voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "Run. Get somewhere safe."
Rigel stepped out of the stall, and the sight that met him froze his stomach. A massive troll loomed in the doorway, eyes small, feral, and fixated. Its club scraped along the stone floor with a deafening clang, a guttural growl vibrating through the bathroom.
The moment the troll locked eyes on him, it charged. Rigel reacted instantly, casting Glacius across the floor. The sudden icy patch made the troll skid, losing balance, and he followed quickly with a precise Depulso, forcing it sideways into the wall.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Hermione scrambled to the far end of the room, ducking behind a heavy tub. She crouched low, heart hammering, peeking over the edge. Safe for now but fully able to see Rigel face the monster head-on.
The troll grunted, rage twisting its features as it lifted its head. It hadn't expected a wound, it's right eye was blinded, bleeding freely, yet it showed no sign of slowing down.
A soft hiss escaped Rigel's lips, and a thin, almost feral smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The troll swung its massive club wildly, each blow cracking against the stone floor or smashing into walls. Dust and splinters flew with every erratic arc. Rigel ducked low, rolling just in time as the weapon slammed into the space he had occupied a heartbeat before.
A fragment of a wooden door snapped against his temple. Blood trickled, warm and sticky, but Rigel didn't flinch. Not even a flicker of pain crossed his features. He moved again, weaving with deadly precision between the troll's flailing attacks.
Then came the first sound, low and rough, curling through the chaos.
"Khhk… khhk…"
Hermione froze behind the tub, heart hammering. It was Rigel. That broken, ragged chuckle slithered through the air, unnerving in its quiet restraint.
The troll swung again, and Rigel darted forward, narrowly avoiding the strike. He rolled, twisting, another shard of debris cutting his shoulder. Blood mingled with dust, yet he pressed on, relentless.
"Khhk… khhk… khhk…" The sound grew, sharp, stuttered, jagged matching the rhythm of his movements, echoing the dark delight threading through each calculated dodge and spell.
The troll crashed into walls, fury mounting, while Rigel danced just out of reach. The eerie laughter now punctuated every collision, a soundtrack of controlled chaos.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She could neither move nor speak, trapped by awe and terror, watching him and his unsettling, uncanny amusement that sent shivers down her spine.
By now, the troll was a patchwork of cuts and bruises, staggering under the relentless assault. Rigel's eyes locked onto its lone, furious gaze. For a fleeting, suspended moment, he released the careful control he had maintained. A flicker of his mind struck out, and the troll shuddered violently, spinning sharply as if wracked by sudden, inexplicable anguish.
A burst of his jagged laughter escaped.
The spell shot forth, stronger, precise striking the tendons behind the troll's knees. Its massive legs buckled, and it collapsed to the stone floor with a deafening crash. Rigel's lips curled into a cruel smirk.
"Depulso."
The remaining eye of the beast erupted under the spell, and the troll let out a gurgling scream before collapsing fully. Rigel's gaze swept over the fallen creature with detached satisfaction.
He lifted the troll's club high above his head. With a flick of his wand, the superficial wood transmuted into a metal barrier. The iron object dropped with a deafening thud onto the troll's head, finishing the beast with finality.
For a heartbeat, Rigel stood there, chest rising and falling, a pleased smirk on his face, laughter threading through his teeth like jagged glass. And then, as reality clawed back, he snapped from the shadow of the fight, spun on his heel, and dashed toward Hermione, his heart hammering not from fear, but from the need to make sure she was safe.
Rigel knelt beside her, his hands moving swiftly to check her for injuries, ignoring the sting from the cuts and bruises along his own arms and forehead. His attention was entirely on her, every movement precise and careful.
Hermione blinked up at him, chest still heaving, cheeks streaked with tears and dust. For a moment, she let him work in silence, caught between relief and the echo of fear. Her hands twitched, almost reaching for him, then fell back to her sides.
She wanted to ask if he was hurt. The words stuck in her throat.
This wasn't the boy who sat beside her in the library or rather, it was a part of him she had never seen.
"Rigel… you're… bleeding," she whispered finally, voice trembling.
He shook his head sharply, almost dismissively, not looking at his own wounds. "Not now. You need to be alright first," he said, his tone firm but gentle.
Hermione's breath hitched. The sight of him prioritizing her over himself, the fierce determination in his eyes it both frightened and comforted her. Her hands curled into tiny fists at her sides, a wave of guilt and gratitude washing over her. "You… you don't have to do this alone," she said softly, though her voice barely carried over the remnants of the troll's roar.
From the doorway came a harsh, incredulous voice.
"Bloody hell, mate… did you see him?!" Ron's eyes were wide as he blinked between Rigel and the aftermath of the chaos.
Harry, standing beside him, looked equally stunned, his wand half-raised, jaw slack. "I… I " he began, but words failed him.
Hermione stiffened, gripping the edge of the tub. Her eyes flicked to the intruders, then back to Rigel, the tension coiling tighter in her chest.
"Harry, Ron… what are you two doing here?" Rigel asked, voice sharp but tinged with surprise.
Harry swallowed, glancing nervously between Hermione and Rigel. "We… we came to warn Hermione. She wasn't at the feast, and well, we heard about a troll.. "
Ron jumped in, voice stumbling slightly, "Yeah! We thought she might be in danger, and… and, you know, we followed the sounds!"
Hermione's eyes widened, a flush creeping across her cheeks, part relief, part surprise. "You… you did that for me?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly but warm.
Ron scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Well… you know. Someone had to look out for you."
Harry nodded, more seriously this time, still wide-eyed.
Then Ron's gaze flicked to Rigel, frowning. "Uh… but… what are you doing here?"
Before Rigel could answer, the distant sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the corridor, making all three of them tense.
He leaned close to Hermione, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "Meet me next Friday, in the library… afternoon. We'll talk properly."
Hermione blinked at him, a mix of gratitude and curiosity in her eyes. She gave the smallest nod, understanding the message without needing more words.
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