•8• Best Friend-Worst
Enemy •8•
by Rochelle Lynne
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"And the house cup goes to..." Dumbledor's soft voice echoed throughout the Great Hall. Every student sat on the edge of their seat, waiting to hear the name of the winning house.
This year, unlike many others before, Professor Dumbledore had decided to hide the hourglasses behind a black curtain in the main hall. Not one of the students had a clue as to which house had won this year. Ravenclaw had done extremely well. And Slytherien worst than usual.
The students wide eyes fixed themselves on the shiny pair of half moon glasses.
"... SLYTHERIN!?"
Even the old headmaster sounded surprised. Clearly, this had not been the answer when he had last checked the hourglasses.
The Slytherian table sounded in a great cheer. None of the other houses clapped, the surprise was stunning.
"Ah, well, Slytherian decorations then..." Dumbledore stuttered, trying to recover himself. With a flick of his wand, silver jets shot out of his wand and Slytherian colors draped the walls.
"Let the feast begin!"
The tables filled with food. But only the Slytherian table began to eat. All of the other students felt something wrong. Very wrong.
"Harry, look at Snape," Hermione whispered. Ron and Harry's heads turned to the greasy git that wanted to be headmaster. It was plain to see what Hermione had been talking about.
On Snape's face was the widest, ugliest, teeth baring smile. His cheeks were red from effort, but he was smiling none the less. And his eyes, the usual dark tunnels were a bit brighter. Sparkling almost. Yet, it wasn't with a friendly gleam. It was a maddening one.
"I wonder what's wrong with the git," Harry mussed, rubbing his scar out of habit.
"Probably had a bad glass of pumpkin juice," Fred, whom had been listening in on the conversation, said. George chimed in a second later.
"He's probably working it out of his system, from the look on the bloke's face."
The trio had to fight to keep a straight face.
The clatter of forks, goblets, and plates started to sound, showing the school's shock at the Slytherian's win edging off.
"I have a weird feeling about him though..." Ron added. His usually freckled face was a bit whiter now, making the freckles stand out even more. "There's something wrong, I can feel it." Hermione and Harry exchanged a look. This was anything but Ron's nature. Hermione placed a comforting hand on Ron's arm.
"Well, whatever it is, we can get through it," she said. Harry thought back to all the adventures that he had encountered over the last four years. Nothing in the Muggle world, and certainly nothing with the Dursleys had prepared him for the thrills that had awaited him.
"Let's go back up to the Common Room," Harry said. He wanted to talk to his friends alone. Something was not right.
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"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously as she seated herself on a plush red chair. Harry looked around the room, making sure that no one was in it to eavesdrop.
"Snape," he said simply. His forehead was scrunched up in thought. "Snape has something to do with the house cup, I'm sure of it."
Ron looked at Harry. "It's only the house cup, and besides, we go home soon."
"It's more than that, isn't it Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded slowly. Ron just gave a bewildered look.
"But Snape, he is on our side, Dumbledore said so," Ron added, feeling quite unsure of himself.
"Dumbledore thinks Snape is on our side. He could be a double agent for Voldermort." Ron flinched as Harry spoke the name of He-who-must-not-be- named. Hermione and Harry watched as Ron tried to find a defense.
All of a sudden, Ron's hands clenched the arms of the chair he was seated in. His face want deathly pale and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
"The Dark Lord. He has a faithful follower in the castle. Voldermort will come soon. No one will suspect a thing..." Ron's voice had gone steely, but it was his voice the same. Hermione made a terrified move to go and help Ron, but Harry made a monition for her to stay still.
"Listen," he whispered. Hermione gave a frightened nod and forced herself to sit back down.
"The one closest to the enemy will be branded," the voice continued. "They shall help the Dark Lord. With or without their right mind."
Hermione gave a great sob, hiding her face in her hands. Harry put an arm around her to comfort her. Just then, Ron broke out of his trance.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Must have dozed off a bit." Ron caught sight of his friends in a seemingly inmate pose.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, a sharp glint in his eye.
"Oh Ron, it's nothing like that!" Hermione cried as she launched herself, sobbing, into Ron's arms. Ron looked startled at first, before wrapping his arms reassuringly around her waist, whispering words of comfort into her ear.
"Ron," she sobbed. "you went into a trance. Someone else was speaking for you. They said... they said..."
"They said that the Dark Lord has a faithful follower," Harry informed. "They said that the one closest to the enemy will be branded, that they will help Voldermort with or without their right mind." Ron's jaw dropped. Suddenly, he was very glad that he had Hermions hugging him, otherwise he might have fainted.
"Did I say that?" he asked weakly. It was now Ron that needed the comforting. Harry stood up and helped Hermione guide Ron back to his seat. He gulped and looked up at his friends helplessly. Hermione was about to say something, but the sound of Hogwarts students returning from the feast erupted from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Up to bed!" Harry shouted over the noise. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." Ron and Hermione nodded. They bided each other farewell and headed up the stair case before the horde of students came in.
But hidden in the shadows, the pair of eyes of the new enemy watched as Ron and Harry made their way to bed. "I'll get you Potter, if it's the last thing I do."
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The next day, the trio met at breakfast and decided to sit at the end of the table, away from the population of Gryffindor students.
"It's one of us, isn't it?" Ron broke the uneasy silence. He, like Harry, had been awake most of the night, trying to figure out what the message had ment.
Hermione gulped uneasily. "You mean it's one of us?" she asked. Harry and Ron nodded.
"That's what I came up with. Hurry, let's eat and we will have to go into the girl's bathroom to figure this out," Harry said.
Five minutes later the three hurried out of the great hall before anyone else. They slowly climbed staircases and corridors before they reached the familiar door.
"No one's coming. Get in!" Hermione said and the three dashed inside the bathroom.
They could hear a great sobbing noise coming from one of the stalls, and it was clear that Moaning Mertel was there.
"Alright, I have been thinking about this," Harry said. "Ron said that the servant was going to be branded or marked or something like that."
Hermione nodded.
"Well, what is Voldermort's mark?" he asked.
"The Dark Mark," answered Hermione and Ron in unison.
"Common, let's see your arms."
The three experienced a very pregnant pause before Ron and Hermione lifted the sleeve off of their left arm.
There, embedded on white skin, lay the evil scar. A skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. A terrified gasp was heard and a splash, as Hermione fainted.
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by Rochelle Lynne
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"And the house cup goes to..." Dumbledor's soft voice echoed throughout the Great Hall. Every student sat on the edge of their seat, waiting to hear the name of the winning house.
This year, unlike many others before, Professor Dumbledore had decided to hide the hourglasses behind a black curtain in the main hall. Not one of the students had a clue as to which house had won this year. Ravenclaw had done extremely well. And Slytherien worst than usual.
The students wide eyes fixed themselves on the shiny pair of half moon glasses.
"... SLYTHERIN!?"
Even the old headmaster sounded surprised. Clearly, this had not been the answer when he had last checked the hourglasses.
The Slytherian table sounded in a great cheer. None of the other houses clapped, the surprise was stunning.
"Ah, well, Slytherian decorations then..." Dumbledore stuttered, trying to recover himself. With a flick of his wand, silver jets shot out of his wand and Slytherian colors draped the walls.
"Let the feast begin!"
The tables filled with food. But only the Slytherian table began to eat. All of the other students felt something wrong. Very wrong.
"Harry, look at Snape," Hermione whispered. Ron and Harry's heads turned to the greasy git that wanted to be headmaster. It was plain to see what Hermione had been talking about.
On Snape's face was the widest, ugliest, teeth baring smile. His cheeks were red from effort, but he was smiling none the less. And his eyes, the usual dark tunnels were a bit brighter. Sparkling almost. Yet, it wasn't with a friendly gleam. It was a maddening one.
"I wonder what's wrong with the git," Harry mussed, rubbing his scar out of habit.
"Probably had a bad glass of pumpkin juice," Fred, whom had been listening in on the conversation, said. George chimed in a second later.
"He's probably working it out of his system, from the look on the bloke's face."
The trio had to fight to keep a straight face.
The clatter of forks, goblets, and plates started to sound, showing the school's shock at the Slytherian's win edging off.
"I have a weird feeling about him though..." Ron added. His usually freckled face was a bit whiter now, making the freckles stand out even more. "There's something wrong, I can feel it." Hermione and Harry exchanged a look. This was anything but Ron's nature. Hermione placed a comforting hand on Ron's arm.
"Well, whatever it is, we can get through it," she said. Harry thought back to all the adventures that he had encountered over the last four years. Nothing in the Muggle world, and certainly nothing with the Dursleys had prepared him for the thrills that had awaited him.
"Let's go back up to the Common Room," Harry said. He wanted to talk to his friends alone. Something was not right.
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"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously as she seated herself on a plush red chair. Harry looked around the room, making sure that no one was in it to eavesdrop.
"Snape," he said simply. His forehead was scrunched up in thought. "Snape has something to do with the house cup, I'm sure of it."
Ron looked at Harry. "It's only the house cup, and besides, we go home soon."
"It's more than that, isn't it Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded slowly. Ron just gave a bewildered look.
"But Snape, he is on our side, Dumbledore said so," Ron added, feeling quite unsure of himself.
"Dumbledore thinks Snape is on our side. He could be a double agent for Voldermort." Ron flinched as Harry spoke the name of He-who-must-not-be- named. Hermione and Harry watched as Ron tried to find a defense.
All of a sudden, Ron's hands clenched the arms of the chair he was seated in. His face want deathly pale and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
"The Dark Lord. He has a faithful follower in the castle. Voldermort will come soon. No one will suspect a thing..." Ron's voice had gone steely, but it was his voice the same. Hermione made a terrified move to go and help Ron, but Harry made a monition for her to stay still.
"Listen," he whispered. Hermione gave a frightened nod and forced herself to sit back down.
"The one closest to the enemy will be branded," the voice continued. "They shall help the Dark Lord. With or without their right mind."
Hermione gave a great sob, hiding her face in her hands. Harry put an arm around her to comfort her. Just then, Ron broke out of his trance.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Must have dozed off a bit." Ron caught sight of his friends in a seemingly inmate pose.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, a sharp glint in his eye.
"Oh Ron, it's nothing like that!" Hermione cried as she launched herself, sobbing, into Ron's arms. Ron looked startled at first, before wrapping his arms reassuringly around her waist, whispering words of comfort into her ear.
"Ron," she sobbed. "you went into a trance. Someone else was speaking for you. They said... they said..."
"They said that the Dark Lord has a faithful follower," Harry informed. "They said that the one closest to the enemy will be branded, that they will help Voldermort with or without their right mind." Ron's jaw dropped. Suddenly, he was very glad that he had Hermions hugging him, otherwise he might have fainted.
"Did I say that?" he asked weakly. It was now Ron that needed the comforting. Harry stood up and helped Hermione guide Ron back to his seat. He gulped and looked up at his friends helplessly. Hermione was about to say something, but the sound of Hogwarts students returning from the feast erupted from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Up to bed!" Harry shouted over the noise. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." Ron and Hermione nodded. They bided each other farewell and headed up the stair case before the horde of students came in.
But hidden in the shadows, the pair of eyes of the new enemy watched as Ron and Harry made their way to bed. "I'll get you Potter, if it's the last thing I do."
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The next day, the trio met at breakfast and decided to sit at the end of the table, away from the population of Gryffindor students.
"It's one of us, isn't it?" Ron broke the uneasy silence. He, like Harry, had been awake most of the night, trying to figure out what the message had ment.
Hermione gulped uneasily. "You mean it's one of us?" she asked. Harry and Ron nodded.
"That's what I came up with. Hurry, let's eat and we will have to go into the girl's bathroom to figure this out," Harry said.
Five minutes later the three hurried out of the great hall before anyone else. They slowly climbed staircases and corridors before they reached the familiar door.
"No one's coming. Get in!" Hermione said and the three dashed inside the bathroom.
They could hear a great sobbing noise coming from one of the stalls, and it was clear that Moaning Mertel was there.
"Alright, I have been thinking about this," Harry said. "Ron said that the servant was going to be branded or marked or something like that."
Hermione nodded.
"Well, what is Voldermort's mark?" he asked.
"The Dark Mark," answered Hermione and Ron in unison.
"Common, let's see your arms."
The three experienced a very pregnant pause before Ron and Hermione lifted the sleeve off of their left arm.
There, embedded on white skin, lay the evil scar. A skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. A terrified gasp was heard and a splash, as Hermione fainted.
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