Harry was used to having bad dreams due to his living conditions with the Dursleys, but the nightmares he started having shortly after he arrived at Hogwarts were nothing short of horrific, and nothing like he'd ever had before. The first one had woken everyone in his dorm room. Harry hadn't screamed, having been conditioned by his Muggle relatives to expect poor treatment when he was loud, but his whimpers, heavy breathing and thrashing were enough to disturb the other boys.

Goyle and Crabbe were all for stuffing a sock in Harry's mouth, but Draco's look of angered disdain silenced them.

Draco was feeling rather lost, not having any experience dealing with anything of this sort. Finally the tension of doing nothing spurred him to action. He crawled onto Harry's bed and put a hand on Harry's arm. While the contact did not stop the nightmare, it did seem to provide some comfort. Harry's thrashing stopped, and his whimpers decreased in volume. Soon after, Harry was reaching for the blond.

Although a bit startled, Draco wasn't entirely displeased.

"Go back to bed," the blond ordered his bodyguards. As soon as they had pulled the curtains on their beds, he pulled the curtains on Harry's bed, and returned Harry's embrace.

"Harry," Draco whispered in his ear. When the only response was an effort on Harry's part to hold him closer, he tried again, a little louder. "Harry!"

Thus was begun what became a routine. When Harry had a nightmare, Draco climbed into bed with him.

Quirinus Quirrell, the DADA professor, burst into the Great Hall, interrupting the Halloween feast. "A troll! In the dungeons! Thought you might like to know," Quirrel gasped out as he came through the double doors of the Great Hall, just before he appeared to faint.

Harry frowned, while all around him he heard frightened gasps and whispers. Something about that didn't ring true. 'Thought you might like to know'? That was part of it, certainly. A very inane thing to say, under the circumstances. There was also the fact that the seemingly cowardly professor's stutter was suspiciously missing.

And if there was a troll in the dungeons, how did it get there? Not only was Hogwarts supposed to be the safest place in England, by all accounts, those things were huge. Surely there were safeguards in place?

The only reason Harry wasn't as scared as the others was that he didn't know enough about trolls to be scared. He hadn't been told the tales that most wizarding children were told as they grew up. That didn't mean he was unaffected; he was still mildly alarmed, but not enough so that all other thought was driven from his mind, as seemed to be the case with most of the others present.

"If I could have your attention, please!" Professor Dumbledore called from the head table. "Prefects, please escort your house members to their dorms as quickly and efficiently as possible." The headmaster then turned to the professors around him and started conferring with them, but in such hushed tones that nothing of what he said carried.

The Slytherin prefects took Harry's attention as they gathered everyone up for the trip to the dungeons (But that's where the troll is, Harry thought, confused by the lack of logic in the action), so he didn't see what the staff did after that.

As they were heading out the large double doors with the pupils of the other houses, he overheard a couple of young Ravenclaws talking.

"Granger never showed up. Do you think she went back to the dorms?"

"I hope so. Weasley really tore into her. She does speak up in classes, often."

"And elsewhere. Well, she is Muggle-born, so maybe she thinks she has something to prove."

"Regardless. Where did you see her last?"

"Heading for the girls'. She looked awfully upset. D'you think Weasley made her cry?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. I hope she...."

And then they were through the doors, and going in different directions.

Harry hung back, touching Draco's arm to clue him in, and the blond joined him. Crabbe and Goyle were already long gone, too frightened of the prospects of a troll in the vicinity to think of their job. It would be the first time they received a punishment for failing in their duty, and it would be a long time before they again failed due to a lack of effort on their parts.

"What?" Draco asked. "We'll get left behind!"

Harry shook his head. "Do you remember where Quirrell said the troll was? Do you really want to meet the troll there?"

"Anyway," Harry said, getting to the real reason he kept his friend behind, "you remember that bushy-headed girl that shared the boat with us? She's missing. She doesn't know about the troll."

"And?" Draco said, as he quickly decided he didn't want to be anywhere near a troll's vicinity. "I heard those Ravenclaws, too; she's a mudblood!"

Harry glared mildly at him. "'Know who a person is, as well as what they are'," he said, paraphrasing Draco's mother, "and please try to remember that my mother was Muggleborn, as well!"

Draco gave him a hurt look. "Hardly cricket, Harry," he complained. "Besides which, my father says—"

"We don't have time to argue about it," Harry interrupted. "Come on!"

He grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him along, heading for the girls' toilet. If Draco hadn't dismissed the girl as worthless without knowing anything about her, Harry would have been more willing to listen to his friend, but he'd been dismissed as worthless by his muggle relatives for too many years for that to go down well. Besides which, he had a passing acquaintance with the girl – and if he could warn her, she'd be in his debt.

"What's up your nose with this girl, anyway?" Draco asked. "Do you fancy her?"

Harry shot the blond such a look of disdain at that, that Draco's unformed anxieties on the subject were quite put to rest. "What, then?" he asked in exasperation.

"She's smart. If we help her, she might be of use, later," Harry explained.

"We don't need anyone's help, Harry," Draco said impatiently as he hurried after his friend.

"Not now, no," Harry agreed, but he didn't expound on the subject. He knew he didn't need to. It was always useful to have someone in your debt, as Draco had informed him, and other Slytherins had confirmed.

They started with the girls' loo closest the Great Hall. When they entered, they looked around in curiosity. All in all, the girls' loo wasn't all that different from the boys', the main difference being the lack of the marble piss trough found in the community boys' loos. At the same time, they heard a quiet sniffling. They'd been lucky and found her on the first try.

"Granger?" Harry called out quietly.

There was an immediate shocked silence, followed by, "Get out of here! Boys aren't allowed!" in a rather strained voice that Harry recognized as belonging to the girl for whom they had been searching.

"We've come to warn you," Harry replied. "There's a troll loose in the school. They've sent everyone back to the dorms."

"Likely story," the girl replied in offended tones. "Who are you, then?"

"You've warned her, Harry. Let's go," Draco said, taking and tugging on Harry's hand.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, answering the girl's question. "Look, would we risk detention like this without good reason?" he argued with the girl, resisting Draco's urging and preventing his leaving.

"Look, she's not interested, and I don't want to be here if that troll comes around," Draco told Harry, being as persuasive as he could. He was becoming increasingly more nervous.

A bushy head of hair peeked out of one of the end stalls. "There really is a troll, then?" she asked. Seeing Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy out there apparently holding hands wasn't all that persuasive an argument, but the anxious expressions on their faces and the note of fear in the blond's voice, was. She exited the stall even as Draco spoke.

"Look – Granger, is it? – I don't make it a habit to enter the girls' lav even on my worst day, and wouldn't now if Harry wasn't insisting on playing the hero!"

Harry's face pinked, but whether from embarrassment or annoyed anger was hard to tell. "I'm not 'playing the hero', you prat, and you needn't have come with me, you know," he said.

"I didn't?" the blond asked with a straight face, despite the note of incredulity in his voice. "I'll just tell my sore wrist you didn't realize you were pulling on it then, shall I?"

Harry's blush was definitely from embarrassment, now. "That's beside the point," he said dismissively. "We all need to get back to our own houses."

"Well, that I can agree with!" Draco replied snarkily.

"How did a troll get into Hogwarts?" the girl inquired.

"Look, Granger, we don't have time to disc—"

Draco was interrupted as a large, bent-over figure crashed through the door and into the room, bringing with it the most foul odour he'd ever smelt.

"Troll!" he yelled needlessly as he quickly drew his wand. He was happy to see that both Harry and the mudblood had done so as well, although the girl was pale and trembling. His own face had gone several shades paler as well, although he would have denied the almost panicked fear he was feeling.

"What do we do?" Harry asked urgently. He could fully appreciate the fear the others had shown in the Great Hall now, although he was too focused on trying to think to let the emotion take control him.

"Hex the bloody thing!" Draco cried, casting a repelling spell at it. It was a spell he shouldn't have known, but in this life threatening situation he wasn't thinking of that.

The troll's twelve foot tall lumpy body reeked, and looking up at it, Harry could see that its nose was blocked by great, gray, lumpy masses.

Harry cast a Bat Bogey hex, which he had taken pains to learn after hearing Quirrel speak about it, although the stuttering professor had called it 'the curse of the bogeys'. It had sounded interesting enough that he'd looked it up in library. The resulting bat-winged boogers that struggled free of the troll's nose were huge, and although not in the least bit deadly, their attack on the troll's face distracted the dumb beast from the three children, giving them a little time to think.

Unfortunately it was very little, as the troll had soon crushed the magically created things, smashing up a good bit more of the loo as well, making all three children dodge – and could probably breathe better than it had ever done, before. But during that short time Harry had taken charge, ascertained that Granger really did know her first year spells and hexes, and told her to just keep using them on the troll one after the other, not waiting to see what effect they had, until someone told her to stop.

"But trolls are spell resistant!" she protested.

"Do you want to tickle it, then?" Harry snarled as he cast another spell at the thing. So far he and Draco had kept it busy, but it was still advancing. "No time like the present, Granger!" he told her when she hesitated. He watched her start slinging spells at the great thing before he started talking to Draco.

"What's the best way to stop one of these things?" Harry asked his friend as they all continued to cast spells at the troll.

"Only two ways I've heard of – kill it or knock it out," Draco replied a little breathlessly, not taking his eyes off the troll, and genteelly holding his hand over his nose to try to block the creature's reek.

It wasn't really working very well.

Harry looked a bit ill at the thought. "I'd rather not kill it, if there's a choice," he said. He hadn't learned any really deadly spells yet, but enough applications of any spell meant to harm could kill something.

"What do you suggest we use to knock it out, Harry?" Draco asked, using scorn to cover his fear. "I don't see anything heavy enough in here, do you?"

Looking around, Harry had to admit that there did seem to be a dearth of loose, heavy objects. Except one. Unfortunately, the troll was already clutching it. But then their time was up. "Use the Jelly-Legs on him!" he yelled, putting his wand in his pocket and then following his own advice wandlessly, pouring as much power into it as he could.

Draco cast a brief, incredulous glance at his friend before turning back to the troll and doing just that. Between the three of them casting it several times, the Ravenclaw having watched how Draco cast it and following suit, the spells penetrated the troll's natural spell resistance just enough, with what should have been predictable results – the troll started waving its arms (and subsequently its club) all over the place trying to keep its balance. It was rapidly destroying the room and everything in it, and all three children kept dodging, trying to keep as far away from the troll, its club, and the flying debris as possible.

As soon as he had a clear shot at the troll's weapon, Harry flung his hand out, quietly but fiercely casting "Locomotor Club!" He missed the first time, but connected on his second attempt. The troll had a firm grip, but no control over it, so when Harry's hand motion made the club describe a swift, violent arc with the troll's skull at the end of the trajectory, there was a loud 'thump!' sound. The troll paused, and then slowly toppled to the floor. Just to be safe, Harry made the club hit it a second time.

All three children stood there and stared at the thing, breathing hard.

"Those weren't first year spells!" Hermione accused when she'd recovered enough to think about what had just happened.

Harry cursed quietly to himself. He had hoped he'd cast it quietly enough that she wouldn't hear it. It was one of the spells that Draco had taught him. But before he could reply, Draco spoke up.

"You have heard of independent study, Granger?" Draco drawled with a sneer. "Slytherins are ambitious. Some of us are not content to learn only what the school is willing to teach us, when it's willing to teach us."

Harry was very grateful for Draco's quick mind. And from what he'd heard, the explanation Draco had come up with was one that Granger would empathise with.

Before the red-faced girl could retort, Draco added, "I suggest we vacate the area before that malodorous beast regains consciousness."

That was an eminently sensible idea, and they promptly did so. Once outside the door, the Ravenclaw looked at the two Slytherins who had just saved her life, and changed her mind about reporting Potter's use of an advanced spell he shouldn't have known. Fortunately in the confusion of the moment she hadn't noticed that Harry hadn't used his wand. "I won't tell—" she started to say, and was interrupted.

"Why aren't you three in your dorms?" Professor McGonagall loudly demanded, Professors Sprout and Flitwick following in her wake as she quickly strode towards them. "Ten points off your houses each, for endangering yourselves! I'll find someone to escort you where you belong," she continued without waiting for a reply. "Come along with me, and—"

"Professor!" Hermione interjected rather forcefully. "I do beg your pardon," she said more respectfully when the woman looked at her, startled to be interrupted, "but you'll find that the troll is in there," pointing to the door they'd just exited. "It's unconscious."

All three professors looked at the girl in shock, then at Harry and Draco, who had been trying to look inconspicuous. As this no longer seemed possible, they drew themselves up proudly.

"It's...." Professor McGonagall started to say in shock, and then her lips firmed as she drew herself up. She went to the door and looked in, the other professors doing likewise. Then backing up from the door and waving her coleagues aside, she flicked her wand, putting a complicated locking charm on the door to the toilet which caused the whole doorway to briefly glow blue.

"I want the three of you to go to your dorms. Now. We shall speak more of this later," she told them stiffly.

Harry looked at Draco, gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, and they walked off in the direction of the dungeons.

"Thank you," Hermione called after them.

Neither boy looked back, but Harry gave a negligent wave of his hand over his shoulder.

"She owes us a life debt now, you know," Draco murmured.

"A debt, certainly," Harry replied calmly, "but she helped herself, as well."

Draco looked at Harry as though he were crazy. "Harry," he said slowly, "why do you always discount whatever you do?"

"I don't," Harry argued.

Draco nodded. "Yes – you do. For some reason you want to believe that you aren't capable of doing anything above the ordinary; worse – that you're common. You're not common, Harry. Mind you, you're not as special as everyone would have you believe, but you're far from being common."

Draco knew himself to be above average power himself, but acknowledged that Harry was at least a little stronger than he was. He occasionally felt a bit of jealousy over that, but ruthlessly quashed those emotions when they arose, now. Besides, it was hard to stay jealous when they touched and that warm feeling overtook him. It was one reason their fights never lasted long, too.

Harry's cheeks pinked with pleasure at this praise, not the least because it came from someone whose opinion he valued, but he felt the need to put himself down rising in his breast. He repressed it with a frown, wondering where it came from. He didn't need to think hard or long to figure it out, though: the Dursleys, of course. They had taken every opportunity, and manufactured them when they didn't occur naturally, to verbally grind Harry into the dirt, compounding it by treating him as being less than worthless.

Draco had watched Harry's expressions change. "What are you thinking?" he inquired.

"The Dursleys," Harry replied. "Have something drilled into your head long enough, you start to believe it." He wasn't angry or bitter about it – not yet – although that reaction might come, in time. He had only just realised the truth, and he hadn't had time to internalise it yet.

"So. A life debt?" Draco persisted.

Harry nodded, albeit a little reluctantly. "A life debt," he conceded.

That night they comforted each other, over the horrors of the day.

Dumbledore called all three children to his offices the next day. After hearing their rendition of events, he spoke. "And why did you not report this information to a teacher or prefect?" he inquired.

Harry shrugged. "Everyone was busy," he said, "and in all of the confusion, I was afraid that she would be overlooked."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but his expression was serious as he replied "It is true that you saved Miss Granger's life. However, you endangered your own and Mister Malfoy's life in the process. For deliberately endangering your lives, you and Mister Malfoy will serve a detention with Mister Filtch."

"The troll was, supposedly, in the dungeons, sir," Harry argued. "There should have been no danger where we were."

"Nevertheless," the headmaster said firmly.

Harry and Draco both wore expressions of disgust on their faces upon hearing this news. However, the headmaster held up a hand to forestall complaint, and continued. "However, for coming to the aid of your fellow pupil in a life threatening situation, I commend you, and will allow you to go shopping with Mrs Malfoy on the next Hogsmeade weekend – a privilege not normally granted first years."

The commendation did little to assuage Harry and Draco's upset over the detentions, but the prospect of being able to leave the school to go shopping helped a little bit. However, the headmaster was not yet finished. "And for aiding in neutralizing the threat to the school, fifteen points to your Houses, for all three of you."

"Brilliant," Harry grumbled sarcastically. The granting of so few points for their efforts only told him what his fellow Slytherins had been saying all along: Professor Dumbledore was biased against their house. And what was this about 'aiding'? They had 'aided' themselves!

The headmaster looked at him with mild curiosity."Is there a problem, Mister Potter?" he inquired.

"No sir," Harry replied, his voice flat.

"It really doesn't seem fair, sir," Hermione said, speaking up.

The headmaster looked at her curiously, amusement in his eyes. "Oh?"

With an apprehensive glance at Professor McGonagall, who was also the Deputy Headmistress, the girl spoke up. "We had ten points removed when we were found in the corridor, so we do gain a few points, sir, but Malfoy and Potter get detention? It hardly seems fair, sir," she repeated.

The old man's eyes were twinkling wildly with his amusement. With a quick glance at his second, he replied. "I believe you may have a point, Miss Granger. Very well, the detentions are rescinded. And now, I believe you should all return to your Houses."

Harry was fuming as he and Draco made their way back to their common room. Draco wasn't any happier.

"I can't believe that old man!" Harry complained fiercely. "We save Granger's life, knock out a danger to the school, and he 'oh, so graciously' doesn't punish us for it!"

"Barmy old coot!" Draco added.

"Quite right!" Harry agreed. Besides the excuse of his present ire, it hadn't taken much to agree with Draco's verdict. Whoever heard of the headmaster of a prestigious school regularly inviting one of his pupils to tea? Okay, yes, he had this unearned fame, but he didn't think that warranted the extent of the headmaster's attention. And Harry had the uncanny feeling that the old man was trying to woo him away from his house, which made no sense whatsoever. "I suppose the upperclassmen are right; Dumbledore really is prejudiced against Slytherin."

Draco agreed, but said nothing. It was nothing more nor less than his father had led him to expect from the old man.

After another few moments, Harry thought to add, "Good of Granger to speak up, though," he said, "or we'd still have detentions."

Draco nodded with grudging thanks in tribute to the absent girl. She was still a mudblood though, and it was the least she could have done after they'd saved her life. He cheered up at the prospect of telling his fellow Housemates of their adventure – suitably edited and embellished, of course.