Hello! I just updated this chapter with a revised ending and some grammatical fixes, because I can't seem to stay off of my computer. Also! My winter break just ended and I will be updating much more often. Sorry about the wait!
First Year
"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat's gravelly voice echoed through the hall. The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and applause as Harry Potter leapt down the stairs and took a seat next to Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley soon joined them. A feeling of dread grew in my stomach as the other first-years were Sorted and left me at the bottom of the stairs. Alone. Professor Minerva McGonagall's bright blue eyes met mine. She shifted the list in her hands, hiding it in the sleeve of her deep green robes.
I drew my shoulders up to my chin as I felt the eyes of every other student find me. McGonagall smiled, "Oh, I don't believe you're on the list, dear. What is your name?" Whispers echoed through the hall. Professor Albus Dumbledore stood, his silver robes glinting in the firelight. I dropped my shoulders and whispered my name. Dumbledore was the one who spoke, "What did you say your name was?" I looked up and shivered, though the great fires were roaring and under my plain black robes I had on a black sweater, fleece leggings, and fur boots. "Tabitha Lestrange." The whispers died instantly.
Dumbledore nodded to Professor McGonagall. McGonagall quickly trotted down the stairs, looped an arm around my shoulders and guided me around the head table to a door hidden behind Dumbledore's high-backed chair. It opened into a hallway. As the door swished closed, I heard Dumbledore telling the other students to continue their meal. Professor McGonagall steered me to a great gold statue of a phoenix. She stepped into its alcove, pulling me with her. "Sherbet Lemon!" she shouted. The ground jerked and we were whisked upward by a spiral staircase.
We exited into an office. Little silver machines putted through the air. A great oak desk cluttered with papers stood on a sort of raised dais. Portraits lined the walls of previous headmasters. Armando Dippet waved at me. I waved back. A golden phoenix sat on a perch, staring at me. Professor McGonagall turned to me, "Wait here, dear. Professor Dumbledore will see you soon." She turned back to the staircase and smiled at me as she disappeared. I minced over to a floor-length mirror and glanced at my reflection. My smooth, freckled porcelain skin. My defining high cheekbones. My thick, curly black hair. My alarmingly blue eyes. I was thin and delicately-boned. My hands were pretty and elegant from years of playing piano and turning pages of old books. I had long legs for a person as short as I was. Most of my clothes hung off my frame loosely.
The staircase creaked, and I whirled around to see Dumbledore stepping into the office. He nodded and proceeded to the oak desk in the center of the room. He riffled through the papers on its surface. He lifted one, "Tabitha Lestrange. Daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Raised by muggles. Contact: Arabella Figg." I nodded. He smiled, "Arabella is an alias of mine. I trust you received your Hogwarts letter on time?" I nodded again. He chuckled, "Do not be afraid, child. Your parentage matters not. I trust you shall be a great witch."
I swallowed, "Professor Dumbledore, I believe there is something you should know." Dumbledore's smile fell and he rocked back into the chair at his desk. He gestured for me to continue. "It's Bellatrix, sir. The only reason I am alive is because of Mrs. Potter. Harry's mum. My father hid me in Godric's Hollow when I was born. Despite being rather nutty, he cared for me until I was four months old. Bellatrix found me then. She used the killing curse on my father. She was about to kill me when Mrs. Potter heard me crying as she walked by with Harry in a stroller. She banished Bellatrix and took me to Mrs. Figg. Mrs. Figg then put me in muggle foster care." Dumbledore nodded, "Yes child, I know this." I sighed in relief, "There is something else you should know, Professor. I am an animagus." Dumbledore's eyes widened, but he said nothing. "A black panther. As is my Patronus."
Dumbledore furrowed his brow, "How have you discovered your Patronus?" The memory surfaced in my head, "Dementors attacked me two years ago." He nodded solemnly, "I will speak with Minister Fudge about this." He turned and lifted the Sorting Hat from his desk. I hadn't noticed it until then. He stood and placed it on my head.
"Hello, Tabitha," it said, "Now, let's see, where to place you." Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin. Please. I thought. "Ah, another who does not want Slytherin. I know just where to put you." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Gryffindor!" it shouted. Dumbledore grinned and took the hat off of my head, handing me a Gryffindor patch for my robe. "Hurry, now," he said, "The Prefects will be leading the other students to their dormitories." "Thank you, sir," I said, then hurried to the staircase.
The Gryffindor party was just passing the statue as I exited. Eyes fell on me as I joined the pack of first-years. No one spoke besides the Prefect. Only three people weren't staring at me. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Hermione was absorbed in a book, Ron was staring off into space, and Harry was playing with his wand, as if confused by it. After crossing curious moving staircases, we finally reached a portrait of a fat lady. The Prefect said some gibberish, and the painting swung away from the wall. I followed the group through a hole in the wall into a homey sort of place.
There was a fire roaring in the hearth, paintings all over the walls, and couches and cushions spread haphazardly about. The Prefect gestured to the boys' and girls' dorms. I followed the gawking first-year girls up the steps and into a bedroom of sorts. There were multiple chambers, each with four canopy beds draped with red and gold curtains. The rooms were nearly circular, with elegant paned windows between the beds. I saw snowflakes swirling lazily outside. A glowing heater stood in the middle of the rooms. I followed signs on each door to one with my name on it. I found my things piled next to my bed. My books, my trunk, and my pet carrier.
Two glowing green eyes split the darkness of the carrier. I unlatched the door, and out bounded my black kitten, Bast. She curled into my hand, no bigger than it. Her little bobbed tail wagged as if she were a puppy. I sat down on the luxurious red and gold duvet of the bed and let her romp across it. I giggled as she stumbled and batted at the tassels of the canopy. I glanced around me at the empty beds despite trunks at bunks at each.
To my surprise, the door creaked open, and behind it stood Hermione Granger, still reading. The girl was about my height, a bit taller, but she was better filled out. She had small, fine hands like me. I wondered if she played an instrument. Perhaps the violin or piano, like me. She traipsed over to a bed beside mine and flopped down on it, turning the page of her book. I tried to sink behind my trunk and hide, but she said, "The other girls are scared of you, you know." She looked up with knowing honey brown eyes. She tucked a lock of her frizzy mane of brown hair behind her ear. "I know," I squeaked. "I like your kitten. And your name," she quipped. "Thank you," I whispered back. She laughed, "Why, you're not scary 't'all! I'm Hermione Granger, and I already know your name. You're almost as famous as Harry!"
I struggled for words, and she looked up again, "It's alright. I do the same thing sometimes when someone makes me nervous." I grinned, "You caught me. I've already read that one." She looked down to her book, "Really? How does it end?" I raised an eyebrow, "I won't tell any spoilers." She laughed, "I'm reading it again, it's alright." "Well, she's poisoned herself, he kills himself, she wakes up and kills herself." Hermione nodded, "A reader of muggle stories, then." I stroked Bast, "They're so much more interesting than reading Rita Skeeter."
Hermione laughed and choked, laughing and coughing, "That's the best bit I've heard to this day!" I smiled and coaxed Bast back into the carrier. A couple of other girls I didn't know scurried in to their beds. I gave one a little wave, but she frowned and turned away.
I changed out of my robes and into an old t-shirt before crawling beneath the duvet of the bed. It was warm and soft and perfect. Bast had wiggled her way out of the crate and had leapt to the bed. She walked in front of my face and curled up just in front of my nose. I stroked her back with a finger as I drifted off to sleep.
It leeched the happiness from the air. "No. No!" cried Mrs. Figg. The thing was right in front of me now. Its tattered cloak floated around its spindly, emancipated form. Its gaping mouth came closer to my face. I felt its cold breath. I felt the ice on my eyelashes.
It pulled at my soul. A deep pain stabbed at my core. I screamed. The pain spread like ice. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. I screamed the spell Mrs. Figg had taught me. I could see a glowing white light fly from my wand. Everything went dark.
I awoke to Hermione shaking my shoulder, the room dark save for moonlight. I gasped and sat bolt upright, catapulting poor Bast into the bed's canopy. My shirt was plastered to my back with cold sweat. My hair hung wildly in my face. Hermione had stepped back and caught Bast, stroking her nervously. The other girls looked at me with wide, round eyes. I looked wearily to Hermione, "What did I do?" She seemed suddenly very interested in Bast's fur, remaining silent. I ran a hand over my face.
"You were screaming." I jolted and returned my gaze to her. "And crying. Like you were in pain." Tears pricked the back of my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered. She turned and plopped down at the foot of my bed, "Was it a nightmare?" I swallowed and nodded. "What about?" I tensed and shook my head, "I won't be giving you nightmares, now." She frowned, "Well. Your first night at Hogwarts and you're already itching to leave." I snapped, "I don't- Alright. I'm sorry. Dementors. I was attacked by Dementors two years ago. I don't know why I trust you enough to tell you this."
Her jaw dropped, "But the Dementors are under the Ministry's control!" I cringed, "I don't know. They probably thought I was Bellatrix." Hermione looked genuinely uncomfortable. She set Bast down and returned to her bed, muttering a goodnight to me. I returned it and flopped back down on my pillow. Bast crawled up the blanket and resumed her spot in front of my nose. I drifted off to the sound of her tiny snores.
A few weeks later, I woke up before the other girls again. I crept from the bedroom to the girls' lavatory. I splashed water on my face, letting it spill all over my shirt. For some reason, I started to cry, finally acting my age. Fat tears rolled down my wet cheeks and plopped into the sink. I looked up into the mirror. My nose was red and there were large bags under my eyes. I dragged the heel of my hand over my face and reached for the paper towels. A squeal stopped me.
I turned around to a ghost weeping in the corner. My eyes widened in wonder as drips from a leaky pipe fell right through her. "Are you alright?" I asked, my voice echoing. She squealed and looked up with droopy brown eyes, "Why no, thank you for asking. No one cares about Myrtle. What are you going to do, laugh at me?" I shook my head furiously. She scowled accusingly, "Why are you crying, then?" I stepped back as she floated up, "Nightmare." She scoffed and dove into one of the stalls, her squeals dying away.
I turned and sprinted from the lavatory, dripping water all over the floor. While I was dashing through the halls, I ran into a person like a wall. I looked up to find a giant, hairy face feet above me. The giant looked down, "Why, 'ello there Miss Lestrange!" He exclaimed. I flinched. Dark, smiling eyes took in my sodden state, "Miss Lestrange, why, you're all wet!" I nodded, "Who are you, sir?" He chuckled and stuck out a hand, "I'd be Rubeus Hagrid. Most just call me Hagrid. I take care of the game 'ere." I took his hand delicately, "Please, call me Tabitha." His hand completely enveloped my own. He smiled warmly, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I'd best be off. Back to bed with you, Tabitha." He winked and continued down the hall.
The sun was just peeking over the mountains around the school, painting my room gold. I quickly and silently changed into my uniform of a blouse, a gray pleated skirt, long white socks, my Gryffindor tie, mary janes and robes. I pulled my long black robes over it and lifted my wand from the bedside table. It was an eleven and three-quarters inch long unyielding cypress wand with a dragon heartstring core. It had an innately crafted cypress vine twisting around the length of it that Ollivander himself had carved for me. I tucked it into a pocket in my robes and hefted up my textbooks before tiptoeing from my room.
I left the House, startling the Fat Lady awake. She glared at me as I hurried down the moving staircases. I turned toward my first class: Charms. I was the only person in the dark classroom. I slid behind a pew and dropped my books to the floor. Downy white feathers lay at each desk. I had a feeling I knew what they were for. I pulled out my wand from its pocket, the spell ready in my mind. "Wingardium leviosa," I whispered. The spell was usually taught this way. I'd read so in numerous spell books.
The feather floated from the desk, hovering about a foot in the air. I giggled and moved my wand around, the feather following it. I bobbed my wand up and down. The feather flew higher. The lights flicked on, revealing a very startled and slightly cross Professor Flitwick. "Oh my, Tabitha," he struggled for words, "How did you- how are you- how do you know that spell?" I dropped the feather neatly, "I know my way around a spellbook." He began clapping slowly, "Bravo, Miss Lestrange. Hopefully, your classmates may learn from your example." After he finished speaking, other students began filing into the classroom. Hermione plopped down beside me, and I turned in my seat to face her. Ron Weasley swallowed and sat down on her other side. I smiled and waved, but he paled and turned away. I turned and found Neville Longbottom's icy blue-green eyes on me. I blushed and squirmed uncomfortably until he looked away.
"Swish and Flick," the class droned. I remained silent. "All right, give it a go!" Professor Flitwick shouted. I heard an explosion from farther down the row. I lurched forward with the other students. Seamus Finnigan had blown up his feather, his face covered in ash. I shared a laugh with Hermione as we rocked back in our chairs. After holding my feather boredly in the air for a long while, I heard Hermione snap, "You're going to put someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong." I whirled around to see her feather fly into the air and Ron's fly off the desk. I raised my wand and my feather to match Hermione's. She cut her eyes to me and raised hers higher. I grinned and matched it. Soon our dueling feathers had made it to the ceiling.
At lunch the same day, the post arrived. A plethora of owls swooped into the Great Hall, carrying all manner of parcels and letters. Neville received a Remembrall, and Harry a Nimbus 2000 Quidditch broom. I had just finished my hash when a horribly folded packet fell in front of my plate. Hermione and Ron both sat forward curiously. I took it into my hands and peeled away the glue. A slip of white paper fell out before the contents. I lifted it from the table, setting down the packet. As I read it, my excited grin grew. It was from Mrs. Figg! I was surprised. Mrs. Figg's parcels were usually neat. Perhaps one of the cats had gotten to it.
I pulled a gold chain from the packet. A tiny mirrored glass pendant hung from the chain. I looked closer. It was a tiny cast of a panther. I grinned and showed the little cat to Hermione and Ron. "What is it?" Ron asked. His first words to me. "A panther. Isn't it beautiful?" He shrugged. Hermione nodded. I clasped it around my neck, the panther resting on my collarbone. I grinned and helped myself to more pumpkin juice.
The students a few chairs down from me were laughing. I was in such a good mood that I began laughing too. The laughter died instantly. The rest of the Hall continued buzzing, but the Gryffindor table had gone silent. Apparently Neville Longbottom had made the joke. His icy gaze glued to mine, hate and resentment and fear swirling behind them. I understood why.
Bellatrix had tortured his parents to insanity, perhaps a fate worse than death. She had killed so many of these students' loved ones. And they all hated me for it.
I excused myself from the table and sprinted back to Gryffindor house, Neville's eyes boring a hole in my back.
Later that day, I walked with Hermione to Flying class. We were just outside the Great Hall, on a plot of flat grass. Professor Hooch had barked at us to tell our brooms, "Up." Mine and Hermione's snapped up into our waiting hands, while others were having trouble. We straddled them and hovered off of the ground. Neville shot from the ground, his broom twisting through the air. He fell to the ground, landing with a grunt before the class. Everyone leapt from their brooms to crowd around him. Madam Hooch pushed through the students and whisked poor Neville away to the hospital wing.
"What's this?" a nasally voice split the whispers. I turned to see the weasel Draco Malfoy bending down to pick something up from the grass. "Longbottom's Remembrall." He tossed it into the air, catching it dangerously close to the ground. "Give it back," Harry said over Draco's snickering. Draco turned his beady eyes to Harry, "Make me, Potter." He straddled his broom and lifted off, soaring into the sky. Harry prepared to follow him. I slapped an arm over his chest, whipping out my wand and screaming, "Accio Remembrall!"
The Remembrall snapped from Draco's hand and fell into mine. I handed it to Harry and retreated back to Hermione. She was staring me, mouth gaping. "How did you know that spell?" she whispered. "I know my way around a spellbook," I whispered back. She giggled and Madam Hooch stormed back into the group, beelining for Draco. I smirked as he was led by his ear back into the Great Hall. He glared at me the whole way. Great, I'd made my first enemy.
Later that day, I encountered Draco in the hall. "Lestrange," he spat. I turned to him and rolled my eyes, "What do you want, Malfoy?" He sneered, "I want you to pick your side. You should know which wizarding families you belong with." I felt my cheeks go red with rage and embarrassment. "I think I can pick my own battles, Malfoy." "Fine, then, cousin," he scoffed, before turning and walking away. Two red-headed twins came up from behind me and took my hands, shaking them with vigor, "I'm Fred-" "-And I'm George," "That was a marvelous put-down right there," "That's right, it was." They said in turn. I was utterly confused. They rolled their eyes and said in unison, "We're Ronald's older brothers." I grinned, "Well, nice to meet you then, Fred and George." They ran quickly away.
The first Gryffindor Quidditch match was mere days after. The Gryffindors were having no trouble scoring on Hufflepuff, but Harry's, the new Seeker, broom was acting up. "Look," Hermione whispered. I followed her gaze. The potions Professor, Severus Snape, was staring at Harry and moving his lips. "Is he hexing Harry?" I whispered. Hermione raised a pair of binoculars. "I think so, wait here," Hermione whispered back. She slapped her binoculars into Ron's hand and crept from her seat.
A few moments later, smoke rose from the Slytherin booth. Professor Snape stood and frantically patted at his flaming cloak. Harry's broom straightened out. He dove for the Snitch. I closed my eyes as Harry slammed into the ground. When I opened them, Hermione, still grinning smugly, had returned to her seat. "Look! Harry caught the Snitch!" Seamus screamed. The whole Gryffindor booth erupted in cheers.
On the way to Halloween supper, I walked with Hermione behind Harry and Ron. I picked up some of their conversation. "That's why she hasn't got any friends," Ron said. Hermione sobbed and ran past them. I stepped around them, blocking their way. I practically snarled as I slapped Ron hard across the face. I turned and ran after Hermione.
I followed her to the lavatory closest to the dungeon. I found her crying in a stall. "Hermione, it's Tabitha." She sobbed, "I know." I grimaced, "You know, you have friends. I'm your friend." She sniffed, "I guess so." I smiled. She unlocked the stall and I wrapped her in a hug. I pulled away and wiped away her tears with the sleeve of my cloak.
An awful stench wafted into the lavatory. "God," Hermione gagged, "What on Earth is that smell?" I shrugged and plugged my nose. She followed me. The ground began to rumble with a pulse so like… footsteps. The pulse became stronger. I realized what it was. A troll.
I pushed Hermione into the stall and slammed the door shut, shushing her. I dashed to the stall next door. The door was jammed and wouldn't close, as was the next one. Well fantastic. I could see the end of its club now. I dove under a sink as I beheld it. It had to have been ten feet tall. It had pasty green skin stretched over a bulging belly. Its face was rather ape-like, and its drool dripped to the floor. Its club was seven feet long, at least. It looked like the trunk of a small tree. Its beady black eyes locked onto me.
I got up from the floor, whipping out my wand. I began to shout a spell, but running footsteps distracted me. The words caught in my throat as Harry and Ron slid into the bathroom. Harry shouted something and reached out his hand, pointing to the troll. I turned and saw the club hurtling toward me. "Stupefy!" I shouted. The club flew from the troll's hand and into its nose, emitting a sickening crack. The troll, dazed, reached up and dabbed with its fingers at the scarlet blood dripping from its nose. Its eyes rolled to Harry and Ron.
Then, without warning, it swept a fist into the top of the stalls. Hermione screamed. Harry shouted, "Hermione, move!" as the troll prepared to swing again. I nodded to Ron and we began chucking chunks of the decimated wooden stalls at it. Hermione screamed and dove under a sink. The troll growled and crushed the sink. "Hey, pea brain!" I turned to see Ron and Harry swing a door post at its head. Harry leapt onto its swinging arm and landed on its shoulders, his wand plunging into the troll's nose. The troll grabbed his leg and swung him around by his ankle. "Do something!" he shouted. "What?" Ron screamed. "Anything!" I locked eyes with Ron. Hermione said behind me, "Swish and flick."
Ron's eyes widened and he practically squealed, "Wingardium leviosa!" The troll's discarded club lifted from the ground, hovering over its head. It fell with a thump. The troll's eyes rolled back in its head. It dropped Harry. Then, it fell, shaking the ground, onto its face.
Just then, Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrell ran into the lavatory. Professor McGonagall gasped. I turned and helped a now sopping wet Hermione up from the floor. We turned to see Harry wiping troll bogeys off of his wand. I wrinkled my nose. McGonagall, flustered, said to Harry and Ron, "Oh my goodness! Explain yourselves, both of you!" The boys stumbled over each other. Hermione cut through them, "It's my fault, Professor McGonagall." I turned and looked at her irediculously. "I went looking for the troll. I'd read about them and thought I could handle it. But I was wrong. If Tabitha, Harry and Ron hadn't come and found me… I'd probably be dead."
McGonagall gaped, "Be that as it may, it was an extremely foolish thing to do. I would have expected more rational behaviour on your part, Miss Granger. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment. As for you three, I just hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many students could take on a full grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Five points will be awarded to each of you. For sheer dumb luck."
Christmas came soon after. The Great Hall was decorated beautifully. The feast was marvelous. But, as with my every Christmas, no presents appeared under the tree.
Weeks after, I was in potions with Hermione, Ron and Harry. Snape had been limping around the classroom for ages, his long black robes billowing unevenly. "Well, that explains the blood," Harry whispered. "What blood?" Hermione whispered back. "Listen, the night of the troll attack, I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that three headed dog. But, he got himself bitten, that's why he's limping." I turned curiously to Harry, very much not whispering, "What three headed dog?"
Snape's gaze locked onto me. Then it drifted to Harry. "Mr. Potter. Our… new… celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he asked in a deadpan. Mine and Hermione's hands shot up. Snape's gaze darted to us, but he said nothing. "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" Our hands shot up again. Harry swallowed, "I don't know, sir." Snape smirked snidely, "Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"
Hermione had somehow gotten detention with Snape afterwards. Along with Ron, Harry and Draco Malfoy. I was waiting in the common room for her to return. It was long past dark now, maybe eleven at night. I was reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard. For about the twentieth time since she'd left.
The Fat Lady swung away from the wall, revealing a tired and shaken Hermione, Ron and Harry. I dropped my book and ran to wrap Hermione in an embrace. Her cloaks were so cold. She was stiff under my arms. I pulled away to look at her face. Her eyes were sunken and dull. I pulled her by her hand over to an armchair by the fire.
Harry and Ron followed us like lost puppies. Their eyes held the same emptiness Hermione's did. They sat cross-legged on the thick carpet. I plopped down across from Hermione in another armchair, "What happened?" Hermione shivered, "Hagrid took us into the Dark Forest." She paused. I gestured for her to continue. She winced, "Well, we split up. Myself with Ron and Hagrid, and Harry with Draco and Fang. Hagrid's wolfhound. We found a dead unicorn." I gaped. "Harry found something drinking the unicorn's blood. It tried to kill him." Harry shivered. "Hagrid thinks it was You-Know-Who trying to stay alive. He's in the forest."
The next day, I walked with Harry, Ron and Hermione to Defense against the Dark Arts. I looked curiously to Hermione, "What three headed dog? What was Harry talking about? Is it related to the unicorn?" She looked at me strangely, "I haven't the slightest idea."
Professor Quirrell opened the class like he usually did. Awkwardly. "W-well s-students, today w-we will b-be learning about how to p-properly treat werewolf and animagus b-bites." I sat up a little straighter, "Excuse me, Professor?" He went pink, "Y-yes, Miss Lestrange." It made me nervous when he said my name. So clearly. "Animagus bites don't have any effect on any vital systems. Being bit by an actual animal would be far worse." His face resumed its normal color, "Absolutely, t-they d-do. As I am about t-to explain-" "No, they don't," I interrupted, "Only if an animagus is also a werewolf would there be any risk."
Quirrell went red, "Detention." He said it so simply. I gaped at him. Hermione gaped at me. I felt my panther bristle, insulted. My claws begged to be let out. I gritted my teeth, "Yes, Professor."
I met Quirrell in a darker hallway in the dungeon. I gritted my teeth again to speak to him without going full panther, "Professor." He jumped slightly and turned to face me. I couldn't see his face much, but he wasn't wearing his turban. A thin, wispy voice hissed from Quirrell's direction. He didn't move. "Yessss. That issss the sssspawn. Assssk it. Bellatrixsss will be elated at the mention of her choicssse." Quirrell reached into his cloak and withdrew his wand. "Professor?" My voice was barely a squeak. I whipped out my wand. "Expelliarmus!" Both the hiss and Quirrell were speaking now. My wand flew from my hand. I was really panicking now. I opened my mouth to scream. "Silencio!" No sound passed my lips. I tried to scream again. And again. The voice hissed, "I want her to ssssee me. To know who I am." Quirrell crept closer. I could see his sadistic grin now. He turned around slowly, revealing a sunken face embedded in the back of his skull. I knew who he was. His face haunted me. Next to Bellatrix's. Voldemort. I turned to run. "Crucio!" I fell to the floor, senseless with pain. I writhed and twisted. Quirrell was hovering over me now, his head twisted at a horrifying angle. "Too much ressssisssstancssse. Sssshame to wasssste ssssuch a powerful potential." I found my wand in the dark. I shouted, "Protego Maxima!" at the same time Voldemort hissed, "Avada Kedavra!" The shield held. He started hissing other spells, but I was in too much pain to hear them. I felt my breathing become labored. It was so hard. My eyes began to droop closed. Everything went dark.
I felt like I was being lifted. I saw nothing but darkness. Then fuzzy forms took shape. They focused. It was Quirrell and… me. I was lying on the floor in a heap. Quirrell was retying his turban. He was talking to Voldemort, "Now is the time, master. I'll make my move soon. But first, I need to deal with this." He gestured to me. Not me, but my body. Was I dead? "Stupid girl. You were right, Master. The girl is an animagus. She took the bait. I could have killed her, Master. But now she is just asleep. She has Bellatrix's sister wand." He bent down and lifted the sleeve of my cloak, "Morsmordre," he hissed. A swirling black mark appeared on my skin. He stood up and continued to mutter to himself as he left the hallway.
I followed him to McGonagall's office. He burst in, blubbering and stammering. "My, Quirrell, what on Earth is wrong?" "Tabitha Lestrange!" he wailed, "She had detention with me. I found her unconscious in a hallway!" McGonagall said, "I'll get Albus. Go get Severus." He nodded and scurried to the dungeon. I followed the snake. He blubbered the same thing to Snape. Snape stood from his desk and followed him out, cloak billowing. Four wands lit the hallway as the Professors came to me. "Oh dear," McGonagall gasped. She knelt down and held my hand as Madam Pomfrey and a nurse brought in a stretcher. They tenderly lifted me onto it and carried it off to the hospital wing. I followed them, naturally. Madam Pomfrey rolled me onto a bed. The nurse checked my breathing. She alarmedly waved Madam Pomfrey over with, "She's not breathing! Her heart isn't beating!" The witches and wizards crowded around the bed. Dumbledore checked my pulse on my wrist. "She is not dead," he mumbled, "Just asleep. Bewitched sleep."
McGonagall frowned, looking down at me, "But who would do this to a student?" She brushed an awry lock of hair from my face. I angrily charged at Quirrell. But I went through him. Through. I looked down at my hands. I could see them. I reached for Quirrell's shoulder. My hand fell through him. He shivered. Was I a ghost? Maybe Nearly Headless Nick could help me. I dashed from the hospital wing. I couldn't float or fly. That was a good sign. I found Nick floating aimlessly around the Gryffindor common room. "Nick!" I shouted. He turned and smiled warmly, "Tabitha! Long time no see!" "Nick, no one can see me, and I'm asleep, and Voldemort is in the back of Quirrell's head, and-" He put up his hands, "Woah, slow down there." Parvati Patil entered the common, waved to Nick and walked right through me to the dorms. Nick's jaw dropped, "What happened?" I sighed, "Follow me!" I dashed back to the hospital wing. Nick floated behind me.
When we entered, McGonagall was the first to see Nick. "Hello, Nicholas. May we help you?" Nick looked down and saw my body. He looked to me with wide eyes. I shrugged. "What are you looking at?" Snape asked. Nick's jaw dropped, "You really cannot see her?" McGonagall turned to face Nick, "See who?" "Why, Tabitha." Dumbledore was the one who spoke now, "What do you mean, Nicholas?" "Tabitha Lestrange is standing next to me. She is not a ghost, but none of you can see her." Dumbledore pulled out his wand, muttering, "Revelio." I felt strange. My hands began to glow blue. McGonagall gasped, "Tabitha." I nodded slowly, "Can you hear me?" Dumbledore nodded. That's when I noticed that Quirrell was gone. "Voldemort is in the back of Quirrell's head!" I blurted, "He tried to kill me, and I put up a shield and I couldn't scream, and-" I lost my words and started to cry. McGonagall rushed over and tried to take my hand, but it went through my hand.
"Voldemort is in the back of Quirrell's head! Quirrell is a Death Eater, Professor!" I sobbed. I remembered something, "Look at my left wrist." Dumbledore nudged the sleeve of my cloak up. A Dark Mark was etched into my skin. McGonagall gasped, "He used the Dark charm. He is You-Know-Who's host! But where could he have gone?" Snape scowled, "He went to the Stone." McGonagall gasped. "What Stone?" I asked. Dumbledore turned to me, "The Sorcerer's Stone."
I perked up, "The one made by Nicholas Flamel?" Dumbledore frowned, "The Stone could restore Voldemort to his former power."
Without saying another word, I turned and dashed from the hospital wing. McGonagall called for me to come back, but Dumbledore and Snape removed the revealing charm from me. I was invisible again. As I dashed up the moving stairs, I saw a faintly glowing form emerge from the Gryffindor commons. I stepped forward, curious. I could make out three pairs of trainers. An invisibility cloak! I looked closer at the shoes. Hermione's pink spotted, Ron's green, and Harry's gray.
I stepped through the Fat Lady to get into the Gryffindor commons. The fire was out, shadows snaking behind furniture. None other than Neville Longbottom lay Petrified on the floor drenched in shadow. He must have gotten in Hermione's way. She was the only other student I knew of that could use that spell. I didn't have my wand to disarm the curse. I'd have to try a wandless spell. "Finite Incantatem," I whispered hopefully.
Neville twitched. He wiggled his fingers. Then he stood up and bolted from the commons. I jumped past the Fat Lady after him, happy to see him veer toward the hospital wing. I looked up and saw the invisibility cloak turn a corner on the third floor. The floor forbidden to first years.
I followed it. They wound through the dusty, dark hallways. I heard Hermione hiss, "Ouch! You stood on my foot!" I stifled a laugh. Not that they could hear me.
They came to a dead end, stopping in front of a locked door. "Alohomora," Hermione whispered. The lock of the door flipped up and the door swung out. A snore rumbled the ground. When the sound faded, soft notes floated from in the room. The three hesitated, then shuffled in. I turned into the room. A humongous three-headed dog lay asleep in the center of it. An enchanted golden harp played a soft lullaby in the corner. The invisibility cloak fell from Harry, Ron and Hermione. "There's the trapdoor!" Ron whispered excitedly. He pointed to a spot on the floor as Harry and Hermione shushed him. They began working together to move one of the dog's large paws. Its silver fur rippled and it stirred as the paw was finally set down with a thump.
It settled, and they lifted a trapdoor from the floor. Harry and Hermione dropped down into it, but Ron hesitated and squeaked. The harp stopped playing suddenly. Ron leapt down into the door as the dog jolted to its feet. I followed him down, the dog's barks echoing in my ears. Harry, Ron and Hermione got caught in something above me and were screaming as I fell through it. It was very dark below it. I had a faint glow to guide me.
I heard a door shut ahead of me. I walked through an archway to a room full of keys. With wings. Some of the keys were old, some new. All were zooming around the high-ceilinged chamber madly. A broom hovered in one corner. A locked door stood beside it. A flash on the ground caught my eye. An old, rusty key. It must have been the key to the locked door! I lifted it. It didn't fall through my fingers! I gently took its wing and bent it slightly to the side, the key struggling in my grip. The key escaped, joining the swarm. I hoped I had marked the key enough for Hermione to find it.
I walked through the door to a wizard's chess board. A giant one, on the floor. The ruins of life-sized pieces lay scattered about the room. I hurried across it as the locked door opened behind me and new pieces appeared. I waited in an alcove behind the white team and watched the brutal game play out. This next move, Ron's pawn would have to be sacrificed to win the game. He moved. The white Queen raised her stone sword and struck Ron from the ground off the board. Harry checked the King, then he and Hermione sprinted to Ron. "Go!" Hermione insisted, "I'll stay with him. Stop Snape!"
They thought Snape was trying to take the stone. I ran for Harry, trying futilely to stop him. He just shivered and walked through me.
I followed Harry miserably to another chamber. An ornate mirror stood in the center of it. Quirrell stood before the mirror. Harry yelped and smacked a hand to the famous scar on his forehead. "You?" Harry squeaked, "No. It can't be. Snape, he was the one!" Quirrell turned to Harry and rolled his eyes, "Yes. He does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to me, who would suspect, 'p-p-poor s-stuttering Professor Quirrell?'" Harry spoke louder now, "B-but, that day, during the Quidditch Match, Snape tried to kill me." Quirrell scoffed, "No, dear boy. I tried to kill you! And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with Snape muttering his little counter-curse."
Harry had the dignity to look shocked, "Snape was trying to… save me?" "I knew you were a danger right from the off. Especially after Halloween," Quirrell snarled. They continued speaking, but I saw something in the mirror. I crept closer to it. I could see myself! Dumbledore appeared behind me. I turned, but only found darkness. This was the Mirror of Erised. I'd read about it. It showed you your greatest desire. Dumbledore tapped the side of his nose with a finger and winked. He reached deep into his robes and withdrew an uncut red stone. The Sorcerer's Stone!
Mirror-Dumbledore handed the Stone to my reflection. I took it, then found the Stone sitting in my palm. It also did not slip through my fingers.
Harry had stepped up to the mirror now. I stood next to him. I could see my face faded into the background, barely visible. I dropped the Stone into Harry's pocket. Voldemort was revealed to Harry. He tried to run, but a ring of fire erupted around the chamber.
Quirrell flew at him, his hand closing around Harry's throat. Harry tried to fight back, pulling at Quirrell's hand with his own. Smoke rose from them. Quirrell screamed and dove away. "Get the Sssstone!" Voldemort hissed. Harry was the one to attack now, placing both of his hands on Quirrell's face. The place where he had done so, Quirrell's face was badly burned and turning to ash. The ash spread, and Quirrell collapsed, turning to dust.
Voldemort, now disembodied, floated as a cloud toward Harry. Harry screamed as Voldemort flew through his chest. Harry fell to the ground, unconscious.
A ringing filled my ears. I stumbled back as Voldemort, well, the cloud, appeared suddenly before me. He snarled and lunged for me. He passed through my head. I blacked out.
I awoke with a scream. Madam Pomfrey hurried over and cradled me to her chest, shushing me and stroking my hair as I sobbed. Dumbledore and McGonagall rushed to Madam Pomfrey's side. I weeped with relief as I realized that I was back in my body. When my tears were spent and Snape and Hermione had arrived, Dumbledore spoke to Madam Pomfrey, "Why did she wake far after Harry?" he asked. Madam Pomfrey shook her head. Hermione took my hand, "Harry's been awake for days. Maybe two weeks, now. I didn't know you'd been found the night that he faced Voldemort and Quirrell."
I smiled weakly, "I saw everything you all did. It was like I was a ghost or something. I wasn't in my body, but I wasn't dead." Her jaw dropped, "You saw everything?" I nodded, "I even used wandless magic to un-Petrify Neville." I gave her a playful glare as her cheeks reddened. "I bent the key's wing, too." She smiled, "That was you?" I snuck a glance at Dumbledore. He winked and tapped the side of his nose. "And I helped Harry find the Stone." I paused, "Oh! I know about the dog, Hermione! Why did you lie to me?"
She frowned sadly, "I- I- Well, I really don't know, Tabitha. I'm so sorry." I wrapped her in a hug. I looked up and found Neville standing behind her, eyes wide. "You were the one to un-Petrify me?" he asked. I pulled away from Hermione and nodded. He frowned a tiny bit, "T-Thank you." I smiled weakly back.
Shortly after was the end of the year. The shrill whistle of the Hogwarts Express pierced the air. Harry, Ron and Hermione had already boarded and were saving me a seat. I met Hagrid at the engine. He smiled when he saw me, "'Ello, Tabitha! I 'eard about the 'ole ordeal with the Stone. That there was a very brave thing to do, lass." "Thank you! Have a marvelous break, Hagrid!" I chirped before dashing to the booth with Hermione, who had been waiting for me at the door.
The Express dropped me off in Polperro, the small town being dusted with early snow. As I was dropped off at the border, a feeling of dread fell in my gut. I had no reason to fear muggles, but my foster family was just… awful.
The feeling of dread grew as I dragged my feet to their house. Both of the parents were squibs. The children were both adopted muggles. And they all hated me. Not for my parents, but because I could use magic. They didn't know who my parents were.
I rapped my knuckles on the flimsy pressboard door. My hands were still pretty, but they were cleaner and were no longer spindly. I heard the bolt being thrown. The door swung open to reveal my foster mum, Cherry. She was wearing an old gray dress under a filthy brown apron. Her stringy mouse-brown hair hung in her face.
She looked down at me. "Get in the house, freak," she snapped. I dropped my gaze and hurried past her. I was greeted by the usual overwhelming smell of tobacco and mold. Wisps of smoke drifted lazily through the dim shack. Johnathan, my "brother," sat smoking a cigar in the corner, perched on a decrepit barstool. He looked at me disdainfully, brushing his jaggedly cut black fringe from his face. Jonathan liked to think he was a rebel, but he was growing too old to have the look he did. He was constantly smoking cigars and sneaking gulps from Cherry's prized liquor.
My "sister," Meredith, sat on his lap. Her trousers were barely even that, they were so short. Her curly pigtails bobbed as she coughed in the smoke. Even though she was younger than me, she still had more things than I could ever dream of. After my year at Hogwarts, I felt… ashamed of them. What if Hermione were to find out they were my siblings? What would Harry think of my ramshackle lodgings? What would Ron think of my "family?" I couldn't bear the thought.
I was still wearing my Gryffindor robes. Meredith looked down her nose at them and sniffed, "What are you wearing, Lestrange?" I set down my trunk and Bast's carrier, "My house robes," I said cautiously back. "They're disgusting," Jonathan sniped. I flushed red angrily, "You wouldn't dream of wearing robes like these," I snarled.
Meredith gaped, "Shut up! How dare you speak to us that way!" "Why? These robes are of the noble Gryffindor house! How dare you insult them!" I shouted. Jonathan smirked, "The kitty has claws." I stiffened and clutched the little panther charm on my necklace. Cherry didn't know I was an animagus. Meredith and Jonathan did. If they told her, she'd put a literal collar on my neck. Like a wild beast.
Meredith sneered, "Mum! I have something to tell you!" Cherry came shuffling in from the doorway. She smiled warmly at Meredith and Jonathan, "Yes, dearest. What do you need?" I locked eyes with Meredith. "Don't," I said softly. She grinned with glee, "Mummy, Tabitha can do something magic. And she's been hiding it from you, Mummy."
Cherry's warm smile dropped into a loathing sneer, "And what is this magic thing, darling?" Meredith pouted out her lower lip, "She can turn into a kitty. A big black one." Cherry's beady brown eyes turned to me, "Can she? Do it, Tabitha. Change." I let go of the charm and held my ground, "I will do no such thing."
Jonathan's eyes glittered, "Take the cat, Mum. That'll make her change." I felt fear flicker across my face. "Alright, fine. Just don't touch Bast."
I called my panther. I felt my teeth change into long, sharp fangs, my nails into long, sharp claws. The rest of me quickly turned into a panther. I swished my tail back and forth. I growled low in my throat. I took a step forward, causing Cherry to jump back. She grinned and dashed from the room, coming back with a thick band of steel.
She got closer. I stepped back and growled louder. I roared as Johnathan leapt on my back from behind and held down my head. Meredith skipped around to my face and clamped my jaw shut with a belt. My claws scrabbled on the wood floor as I fought to escape.
Cherry clamped the glowing hot steel around my neck. I screamed through my nose as the metal touched my skin and singed the fur from my neck. Jonathan slid from my back as I lay down in defeat. I panted heavily and mewed through my nose as the metal rapidly cooled.
I shifted back into myself. I'd decided to shift my robes into a black velvet jumper. The belt fell from my face, but the steel shrunk to fit my human neck. I stood and pulled at the collar. The steel must have been enchanted. Cherry grinned wickedly, "Surprised? A friend of ours enchanted it for us. I'd believe you'd know his son. Master Malfoy?"
I was shocked, "Did you know?" Meredith smiled snidely. "Why would you do this to me?" I sobbed. "He told us who you are. Your mother is in Azkaban!" she screamed. "And my father is dead. So what?" I retorted. "You've got bad blood in you, freak," Jonathan smirked.
Tears ran down my face as I lifted my trunk and Bast's carrier. I walked past the sneering muggles on my way to my room. The attic.
I pulled Bast into my lap, sitting on the ancient mattress that I called my bed. She sniffed at the steel band. Then she purred and curled up in my lap.
I buckled down for what was looking to be the longest, loneliest summer of my life.