Chapter 9
Disclaimer; same as previous
History of magic was the last exam for the first years. Amy finished in record time, laying down her quill before reading over her answers one final time. She had always loved history, especially old customs of the earliest of civilisations.
Even professor Binn's boring monologue throughout the year had not been enough to dampen her enthusiasm for the subject. Amy looked around at the other students covertly; Hermione was writing furiously still (it was surprising there were no sparks flying from her quill.) on her other side, Ron sat looking lost, his eyes roving up and down the question parchment as though he were searching for one word of English in a sea of Gobbledygook.
Harry didn't look much more confidant as he held his hand up for his answer parchment to be taken. It wasn't until he left that she noticed Draco, sitting a few seats away, looking supremely sure of himself as he laid down his quill. His eyes met hers as though he had felt her staring and she looked down quickly before raising her own hand to indicate she was finished.
Amy looked for Harry when she got outside. He was walking towards the lake, his hair making him unmistakable. She followed him and when he sat on the dry grass under the hot sun she followed suit.
"What did you think?" she asked.
"It was really hard I thought, made up a good bit as I went along." He answered. They laughed at his description of what he had wrote for the questions on the goblin wars and then relaxed for the last twenty minutes under the blazing sun waiting for Ron and Hermione to join them.
When they did, Ron didn't wait long before asking what Malfoy had wanted the other day. Amy sighed knowing it had been bothering the other red head ever since. They hadn't really had the chance to chat since then because of the crazy revision schedule Hermione had had them all on.
"He wanted to know why I had fainted. He was actually quite civil." She said. It wasn't a lie. Malfoy had indeed been civil to her lately. He had even asked her to quiz him the night before, and had done the same for her. She wasn't about to tell Ron that of course. He might faint himself. As it was he snorted.
"Malfoy, civil! Anyway why did you faint? Hermione said she heard you scream. Did you really just fall?" Hermione looked abashed as he said this. So they had been discussing it behind her back? Amy felt defensive.
"Yes I fell. I tripped over a tree root and hit my head on a rock hard enough to have to stay in the hospital wing for the night. Are you accusing me of lying? Don't you all trust me?" She searched their faces. Hermione looked panicked
"No, Amy of course we trust you!" Ron was going pink, muttering an apology and Harry looked as embarrassed as the other two. She glared out at the lake for a few moments, the group lapping into an uncomfortable silence.
After a while she broke the tension by declaring that she would love some ice-cream. The others agreed and some of the tension fizzled a little. Harry mentioned that he would kill for a knicker bocker glory, saying that the last time he had had one it was the left over's of his cousin's last summer, who had screamed for a bigger one and had of course received what he wanted as per usual.
Their laughter at his description of just how big and mollycoddled his cousin was, was interrupted when Harry suddenly sat up straight and pointed over at her with wide eyes;
"You were at the zoo!" He exclaimed. "I knew I had seen you somewhere before Hogwarts! You were there that day, sitting outside the reptile house."
She laughed as it finally clicked. "I remember now. That woman, I suppose she must have been your aunt screeched at me. And your uncle was dragging you by the ear."
He nodded, cringing a little at the not-so-fond memory.
"You weren't exaggerating about the size of your cousin." She observed. He nodded again and would have said more when Ron barked in laughter;
"What the bloody hell is a zoo?"
A long discussion followed about zoos. Ron came to the conclusion that they sounded barbaric, a term Hermione heartily agreed with. Discussion soon wound back to the stone and fluffy and suddenly Harry was up walking swiftly towards Hagrid's cabin.
After questioning Hagrid they ran back to the school. They ran into McGonagall in the entrance hall while they were trying to figure out where Dumbledore's office was. She informed them that he was gone.
Harry was sure it was going to happen that night. Just as he said it, Snape appeared. He threatened Harry about night time wanderings, which seemed a bit uncanny, and left in the direction of the staff room. Before he turned to leave, though, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a voice whispered not in her ear but in her mind;
Be careful. Amy said nothing of this to the others, but remained thoroughly creeped out. She wondered if he had read their minds as easily as he had whispered into hers.
They went to dinner, splitting up and promising to meet up outside Fluffy's door that night. Amy waited in the common room. Watching as it slowly emptied. She thought of how difficult it would be to sneak through the halls without Harry's invisibility cloak.
When the common room was finally empty she got up and went over to the door. She took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
This was her lucky night. She didn't run into any obstacles. There was no sign of Filch or Mrs. Norris. She found the others standing outside the door, which was open. Harry took out Hagrid's flute and they went in.
Draco's point of view
He watched her leave the common room. He had come back for his quill and there she was, going out the door. He followed as she snuck up the steps of the Entrance Hall. He was intrigued. Where could she be going? He stopped and waited in the shadows.
She was going to the third floor corridor, the forbidden part of the castle. He had wondered why they weren't allowed there. His eyes followed her long flame of dark red hair.
She fascinated him, she wasn't like other girls; there was something about her, something she was hiding. She was a puzzle to him. No, there was more to it than that, but he did want to figure her out. He was brought crashing back to earth as he looked beyond her and saw him; Potter.
The anger surged in him but he squashed it. The Potter squad went through a door. He faintly heard music. He crept over to the door and after a few moments looked in. They were gone, and towering just inside the door was a huge three-headed dog.
He decided to wait outside.
He paced back and forth impatiently in front of the mysterious door, every now and again hearing the low growls of the monstrous dog. What was going on? Where had Potter and his fan-club gone? There would be war if something had happened to Prince; he swore it.
When the door swung open he jumped back and quickly hid behind a tapestry, startled. The know-it-all mud blood and weaslebee rushed out; the red head looking no more scruffy and unkempt than usual in Draco's opinion, and the usually prim and proper muggle born looking crazed and worried. They hurried off to god knows where. He stayed, waiting for Amy.
He heard footsteps approaching minutes later and hid again, watching with wide eyes as Dumbledore himself rushed up the hall and into the room. He was absolutely intrigued! When he finally returned he saw that the old man had Potter and Prince levitating in front of him. Both looked to be unconscious and he followed at a great distance as they made their way through the castle to the hospital wing.
It was a perfectly normal occurrence for a head of house to visit a pupil in the hospital wing, but for that head of house to be Snape, to visit in the very early hours of the morning and to look at his pupil with an expression that Draco, quite frankly, had never expected to see on the visage of the potions teacher was absurd, unbelievable. And yet he, Draco had been witness to it.
He stayed there until she fell asleep again. Even in her sleep she looked unhappy.
Amy's point of view
"I'm telling you Harry, I just don't think its Snape." She said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"I just know it is, Amy," he said. They had gotten through the devils snare and had come out of the room with the flying keys. The chess game was over and Ron was unconscious. Hermione wanted to run to him but Amy insisted they go on. She knew it was the right thing to do.
Remembering why they were there, a new sense of purpose enveloped her. They stepped over the unconscious troll and Hermione excelled in the potion room. Harry asked the two of them to go back. They refused but then he reminded them of Ron. This got Hermione's attention and she left, but Amy didn't budge.
"Amy, go back."
"I'm not going, Harry."
"I'm serious Amy; I have to stop him before it's too late."
"I'm coming, too"
"No you're not its too dangerous-," she cut him off;
"He killed my parents, too!" She almost screamed. It felt so good to say it out loud. Harry was shocked.
"Let's go" was all he could say.
They took the potion which was like ice running through their bodies and walked through the black flames. She felt nothing walking through the flames and felt no triumph that it wasn't Snape in the last chamber.
Quirrell stood looking into the mirror of Erised, which stood in the middle of the cavernous room. He turned, hearing their approach. There was a horrible high pitched laugh. Where was the voice coming from? Quirrell raised his wand, pointing at Amy.
"We only need one." He said. As he began to flourish his wand the high pitched voice spoke, making him pause.
"Wait, Quirrell, the girl may yet come in useful, one way or another. He offered the two students a place by his side. A chance to serve him. They refused the offer. Voldemort became angry.
At his instruction, Quirrell bound them both with a spell. Invisible ropes tightened around her and she fell to the ground. Before hitting the marble tiled floor, Amy's head cracked against one of the thick pillars that decorated the strange room. Her vision became blurry. Concentrating on the pain caused by Voldemorts presence, Amy desperately held on to consciousness.
Looking up she realised that Harry was standing before the mirror. He told Quirrell he saw himself as head boy, a blatant and badly told lie. His hand rested briefly on his trouser pocket and she knew that the stone was there somehow.
"He lies" hissed Voldemort.
Quirrell began to undo his turban and Amy realised, horrified, where Voldemorts voice was emanating from. With Quirrells attention on Harry, the invisible bonds holding her loosened considerably until she was able to take her wand out of her pocket.
Voldemort was speaking, Quirrell was rushing at Harry, his arms outstretched and ready to strangle. Amy undid her bonds with a muttered spell and got up, her head spinning dangerously. Then she saw Voldemort's protruding face. Fighting back the darkness that ate at her vision, and the urge to vomit that clawed at her insides, Amy ran towards Quirrell, but stopped short as he backed away screaming, his arm and face crumbling to ash. Voldemorts voice rang out inside her mind.
"I see potential in you, Amy Prince." Before his spirit abandoned Quirrells lifeless form, the spirit passed through Harry, knocking him over, and then through her. She fell, feeling the cool marble of the floor against her cheek; she let the darkness take her finally.
The ceiling of the hospital wing swam before her eyes for a few moments before she realised where she was. She tried to turn her head and nearly blacked out again with the pain. It was night time and it was very quiet. She could hear the deep breathing of someone sleeping not too far away and wondered who it could be. Was it Harry? Was he ok?
The swish of a cloak made her jump into a sitting position in the bed. This sent waves of pain all around her body. She yelped quietly and whimpered. When her vision cleared she looked around the room. The neatly dressed beds and pristine surfaces were the same as her last visit.
The deep breathing was coming from a few beds down where she could see a mop of messy black hair sticking out of the bedclothes. Relief flooded through her every pore. At least he was still alive.
Looking around again, she tried to distinguish shapes in the gloom of the faintly-lit room. She was sure she wasn't alone. Suddenly she heard it again, to her left. Painfully, she jerked her head accordingly, expecting to be met with twinkling blue eyes, but there was no one. Slowly, she lowered her body down onto the bed again and let the healing darkness take over once more.
