A/N: Hello everyone, here I am again with a new chapter. To HpLover and the other guest reviewer; thanks for your reviews. I'm very pleased you like the story. Enjoy chapter nine!
o.O.o
Chapter Nine, Detention
November rolled in and with that, the sun lost its jaundiced hue and a fresh wind blew across the school grounds. The days grew shorter and the first snow made its appearance. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the sky was mostly covered in a thick grey blanket of storm clouds. Allyson pulled on her winter robes and went to breakfast early on a particular chilly November day. Since it was so early the Great Hall was practically deserted, yet, the four tables were already set with breakfast. Allyson helped herself to a goblet of pumpkin juice while reading the Daily Prophet from the previous day.
Chewing on her toast, she skipped through the headlines. There was nothing of sheer importance, but the newspaper was interesting none to less. The pictures moved and she clucked her tongue as she watched the minister of magic wave irritatedly at the cameraman.
"Well, look at that. If it isn't our trespassing little lion cub." A voice lazily drawled from behind her.
She dropped her fork in her goblet of pumpkin juice and the rude blond boy took a seat next to her. She wasn't sure what he was doing, so she just gaped at him. "This isn't your table —" She muttered while fishing her fork out of her goblet.
"Ah yes, you see, I got dragged here by an invisible force." He said, making air-quotes with his fingers. Crossing his legs at his ankles, he grabbed a bun from one of the plates.
"Ha, ha." She glared at him. "You are so funny!"
"So you're a Muggle-born?" he asked lazily, biting into his bun.
Allyson shrugged. She had thought he had already known that. "Yes, I suppose so." Pushing a lock hair out of her face, "I thought we had already established that, why?"
He shrugged, his eyebrows knitting together. "No particular reason," he muttered.
They fell silent. He casually picked out some food from the plates and inspected them. Allyson watched him. His pale blond hair reminding her of the dream she had last night. As if stung by a bee, he suddenly jerked up in a standing position and left the Great Hall with swift strides. Allyson watched him go in puzzlement. Never in her life had she met such a strange boy.
A thick fog had permeated the grounds and the days grew chilly, causing a spate of colds among the students and staff alike. As the schooldays passed Malfoy stopped being the enigma she had initially thought and Allyson went about her schoolwork in somewhat of a trance. The teachers had started to bury the first-year students under homework, but Harry and Ron didn't seem faced. They still speculated what could be under trapdoor were more than a little peeved that nor Allyson nor Hermione found the promising adventure of the highest importance comparing to their schoolwork.
Although their friendship was still of the level of a begrudging acceptance, Hermione would look over the boys' homework, and reprieved Allyson of that duty. The older girl always flat-out refused to do their homework for them, but Allyson noticed she was more than willing to sprout out the answers when you asked her the right questions. Something Harry seemed to have noticed too. Hermione was very forward with her intelligence, while Allyson kept her smart remarks to a minimum. She had always been clever, but she was a special form of clever. The clever that only needed to read something once to recall it in great detail. Yet, she was also the silent type of clever and did not answer a question, unless it was directly asked of her.
That didn't mean that she wasn't faring well in her classes. Even with the advantage of having a photographic memory, she was unusually good at magic. It was as if it had waited dormant for years and now that she was using it, she revelled in it.
Malfoy kept giving them calculated looks and smirked knowingly when Allyson would answer his glare with one of her own. She suspected that the broom-thing was still a sore spot for him. Harry being the youngest seeker in years was the second sore-spot, even if the bespectacled boy had a lot of last-minute Quidditch practices. Oliver Wood, the tall fanatical Quidditch captain, seemed to be under the impression they could keep their new seeker a secret and one evening when he loudly exclaimed that none of the other houses seemed the wiser, Harry shared an amused look with Allyson. The first match of the season was approaching that Saturday and although Harry couldn't wait for it to arrive, Allyson was not looking forward to it. Severus Snape had an uncanny way of reminding her of her misdeeds and appeared not to be the kind to forgive and forget. After double Potions that Friday he reminded her that she would meet him at eleven o'clock sharp for her detention in his office and Ron had turned such a dark shade of purple, she'd thought he'd stopped breathing.
"I still can't believe that git!" Ron exclaimed loudly, stomping down the thin layer of freshly fallen snow.
Allyson smiled tiredly, while she followed the red-head out onto the grounds. She had her hands deeply pushed into her pockets and shivered as the chilly wind blew her hair out of her face.
Harry nodded, his shoulder hunched up a bit. "He docked points and you have detention. All you did was being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Allyson shrugged. "It definitely sucks, but I'm sure I'll survive." She sighed. "It's hardly the first time I had detention either," she whispered as an afterthought.
"Really?" Ron asked looking aghast that his silent friend had been in detention before.
"Not in this school," Allyson said, shrugging.
"I don't really get it," Hermione said, adjusting her scarf. "You would think the man would want to see his own house perform, but apparently not."
"Nothing against your logic, Hermione, but I think, he'll just let her mop the dungeons or something, and still go and see the match." Ron said, pulling a sweet out of his bag. "At least that's the drill when Fred and George get into trouble."
Allyson sighed. "Without magic, I suppose?"
"Yeah, but perhaps he won't mention it. First-years can't normally do that much with their wands, I suppose he wouldn't expect you to know cleaning spells." Ron said, glancing at Allyson through half-lidded eyes. "You know them, don't you? After all, you spent so many hours in the library." Allyson frowned. The line; 'you barely care for social activities', hung unspoken in the air.
"He has a point," Harry exclaimed quietly. "We don't really use a wand during potions."
"No, that's true," Allyson admitted begrudgingly. She didn't really think that mattered though. After all, she had enchanted her potions knife just last week to cut the potions ingredients for her. Snape had scoffed, but for once hadn't commented on it, but that pretty much told him she was handy enough with a wand, didn't it?
She sighed and slumped down onto the grass. After several seconds they had a small fire going, which provided enough warmth to be comfortable, but too little to become sleepy.
They sat in silence. Harry was flipping through a book — 'Quidditch through the ages by Kennilworthy Whisp' — which he'd borrowed from Hermione, while the others enjoyed the small free time.
At some point, Allyson heard, more than saw Professor Snape coming their way. His heavy breathing and the soft grinding of his leg over the ground were an immediate give-away. Elbowing Harry, she mouthed 'Snape' at him and the four friends immediately situated themselves around the fire so it was out of sight.
"What you've got there, Potter?" Professor Snape asked, his beady black eyes flickering darkly.
"A book, sir," Harry said, showing him his Quidditch book. His hand was shivering slightly, but perhaps Snape would think it was from the cold.
He glanced at the title and smirked. "You are not allowed to take library books outside the school." He said, reaching out to grab it. "Give it here!"
With a pout, Harry gave his book to the potions master, who turned on his heal and went back to the school. Allyson watched him with a curious frown while he limped up the stairs towards the Entrance Hall. He must be really hurt if he was still limping. Allyson couldn't think of a reason why he wouldn't be able to heal a simple wound, yet, here the man was walking as if they had to amputate his leg.
"I've never heard of a rule against taking library books outside on the school grounds." Hermione offered lightly, curling her legs under her.
"I'm sure that's not a real rule." Allyson muttered frowning at the retreating figure of their Potions Master. "We would have known if it was. I mean, you know what Madam Pince is like. She would have threatened you with it the second you left with one of her precious books."
"He made it up, just to spite me." Harry exclaimed, his cheeks blotched red. "I don't know what I did, but the man truly despises me."
Allyson patted her friend on his back, "Perhaps if you ask him politely, he'll return the book to you."
He gave her an annoyed look, but then shrugged. "I could try of course."
She looked after him as he left their little group and made his way up the stairs into the school. Allyson turned back towards the fire and sighed.
The remaining trio fell into light conversation and enjoyed the few hours out onto the grounds. Using her bag as a pillow, Allyson plopped down on to her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. Hermione was telling them about her previous school — left out the part of how she loathed it — and Ron excitedly listened. His eyes widened in admiration and he oh'd and ah'd whenever she explained a subject he hadn't heard of before.
"Did you go to Muggle school too?" Ron asked, directing his attention to Allyson, who was comfortably toying with the small bracelet around her right wrist.
"Oh, yeah I did." Allyson admitted glancing up at the curious red-head. "But weird things kept happening, so my father decided that it would be better to change tactics. Or so he called it."
"Change tactics?" Hermione asked. "So what, you didn't have to go to school anymore?"
"Actually, that is pretty much an accurate explanation." Allyson said, smiling beside herself. "From the age of nine, I was homeschooled. I had a tutor who taught me all the subjects they covered in Muggle school as well. Although, she did also teach me manners." She sarcastically continued, looking sour when she remembered the old hag threaten her with a ruler. "My Father insisted on her doing so, but really; that old hag was the Devil on heals, I swear!"
Ron chuckled his tongue. "I can't believe I actually like you! You sound like a bloody Pure-blood snob!"
Their laughter filled the air.
"Although I have can't say for sure I know what you mean with 'Pure-blood snob', I can tell you my father is actually an utmost arrogant man." Allyson said with a note of laughter in her voice. "It has to do with his work I think. It made him think he's better than the rest."
Ron chuckled, crossed his legs at the ankles and was about to give an affirmative, when Harry threw his schoolbag in front of them, barely missing the fire and slumped down next to her, completely out of breath.
"Hello, to you too," Allyson said, pulling his bag away from the fire and sat up on her knees. "You look as if you saw a ghost."
"He, He," Harry panted, his voice squeaky and his forehead sweaty, "he tried to get past the three-headed dog."
"The Cerberus?"
"Spare me, Allyson," Harry muttered, rubbing his hands aggressively against each other.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"I saw Snape, with his leg, bleeding." He said as if that explained it all and took a shuddering breath, "He said something about not being able to watch all three heads at once. I think— No, I know he tried to steal whatever it is, that Hagrid took from Gringotts!"
"No— he wouldn't. I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe!" Hermione exclaimed, looking offended.
"Honestly Hermione, you really think all teachers are saints!" Ron huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"They do have a point, Mione," Allyson muttered. "Not about you thinking that all teachers are saints," she quickly added, when she saw the other girl's face redden. "But last week, I saw Professor Snape climb the stairs, instead of going down towards the dungeons and helping the other professors."
Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Hermione said: "I just don't see why! What could possibly be so valuable that he would take such risks?"
"Perhaps diamonds?" Ron said, his eyes gleaming up.
"I don't think so Ron, diamonds are kept in saves. No matter how valuable, they don't need to be guarded by a Cerberus. Thereby, if you want diamonds you can always just raid a Muggle jewellery store. I say with magic that is much easier" Allyson said while stretching. "And moreover, wouldn't things like that be kept in someone's home, instead of a school?"
Harry nodded. "We need to find out what it is, why Snape wants it and what we can do."
"Easier said than done, we already tried interrogating the ghosts and that didn't go so well," Allyson said, massaging her temples.
"Ah," Hermione muttered, "so that was what you asked Binns about…"
"Hm hm,"
"Then we go visit Hagrid again!" Harry huffed, looking annoyed at the lack of enthusiasm he got.
"And then what?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want to say? 'Oi Hagrid, what is it the three-headed dog is guarding on the third floor?' and 'Oh yes, we've known for ages there is a three-headed dog, we almost got killed by it too'." She continued, sarcasm oozing so heavily of her voice she sounded somewhat hysterical.
"Right, we have to think about that before we go," Ron said, pursing his lips.
"We just have to ask the right question," Allyson said.
"Thank you Madam Obvious," Ron remarked, "and pray tell, what is the 'right' question?"
"Well, Dumbledore is keeping it safe for someone right?" Allyson asked.
"I suppose," Harry admitted.
"You want to ask who the someone is?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," she nodded. "You just start with a simple conversation topic. Something he likes or something that will stroke the male ego."
"Like what?" Harry asked again.
"I don't know, Harry, I only know Hagrid from a distance. You're the one who's invested on a personal level."
"There goes nothing," Ron muttered and Allyson kicked him.
A chilly wind had started up and she shivered. "Let's go inside. I'm starting to get cold"
The rest of the day passed quickly and Saturday morning arrived too early. When Allyson stepped into the Great Hall, as one of the first like usual, she was pleased to see it was at least a bright and clear morning but was less pleased that she had to spend the morning in the dark, gloomy dungeons. Just the day before she had asked Fred and George what to expect of Snape's detentions, which were, according to the two boys, not that bad. Or at least she would only have to clean something, but she was still unpleased she would miss Harry's very first match.
Putting a bun on her plate, pouring herself a steaming hot cup of tea and treating herself to a bowl of cereal, she stared depressingly in front of her. Pondering over how she always managed to get into this kind of trouble, she started to spoon hot cereal into her mouth. After ten minutes, she could no longer think of suitable excuses why and how she always got herself into trouble and started to curse Snape's very existence. That was definitely more satisfying than pondering about her bad luck.
She was in the middle of cursing his bad manners towards the Gryffindors when Harry slumped in a seat next to her. He looked positively sick; his face was almost green and he was trembling violently.
"Are you all right?" Allyson asked, pressing her hand against his forehead, checking for a fever.
He nodded, his head wobbling up and down, "I'm fine, nervous I guess."
Allyson rubbed his back soothingly, the way her mother always did when she was scared or sickly. "You'll do fine Harry! I've seen you on a broom. You're really good at it!"
Looking up at her, he smiled. "Yes, until I fall off my broom and break my back."
She smiled at him and poured him a glass of pumpkin juice. "I'm sure you won't break your back." She said softly. He shook his head when she placed the glass in front of him.
"No, I don't want anything." He muttered, his face paling even more when he glanced at the food around him. "Scratch what I first said, I'm not going to fall off my broom. I'm not even going to the match! I think I'm going to be sick."
Allyson frowned before pulling at a loose threat at her sweater. "You're not going to be sick and you have to eat," she said, filling his plate with a sausage and some scrambled eggs. "It isn't healthy to skip your breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day."
"No,"
"I'm not having this!" she threatened annoyed before pushing the plate over the worn-wood of the table. "You are going to eat this and you'll drink the pumpkin juice, without acting like you're going to die. Because you won't"
Harry made a face. "I don't wanna." He whined, perfectly imitating a four-year-old. "I'm not hungry."
"Really, if I have to feed you, go on like this." She said while tapping her fork on the rim of his plate. "Just eat this. It's not that much!"
He put his lower lip out and sulked. "No!"
Allyson sighed before snatching his fork away. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
Piercing a sausage onto her fork, she brought it to his face. He didn't even make an attempt to open his mouth and she felt a muscle in her cheek jerk. "I will force-feed it to you, you do know that right?"
He huffed, but did open his mouth and chewed on the sausage, although with an annoyed look on his face. She put another piece of sausage of his fork and brought it up to his lips again.
He glowered at her, but again opened his mouth and swallowed the piece.
She held out his fork, "Will you eat the rest by yourself, or do we need to keep this up, till your plate is empty?" She asked.
"No mum, I will finish my plate." He sarcastically remarked.
"Good," Allyson retorted, continuing to eat her cereal. Side glancing at Harry, as he finished his food — a scowl firmly in place. He remained silent during breakfast and when it was a quarter to eleven, all of the students started to pack, getting ready for the match. Allyson sighed and pulled her schoolbag out from under her seat.
"Good luck on the match, Harry!" Allyson said, smiling at Harry before pulling him into a hug. He stiffened and for a moment she felt his arms hover around her before he returned the hug.
"I know you'll do great." She whispered comfortingly.
"And else, at least, I had something to eat." He muttered dryly and she grinned.
"Exactly," she agreed, rather peeved that from their close proximity she could feel his rapidly beating heart. "It's gonna be all right!" She continued before stepping back and letting him be swept away by the Gryffindor crowd.
She made it to Professor Snape's office in the nick of time and knocked loudly. It took a moment before an answer came and for a small moment she thought that Snape might have forgotten about her when his cold voice exclaimed: "Come in."
She slowly stepped into the office, curiously peering around. Snape was seated behind a large dark desk, grading papers and Allyson blanched when she recognised her own hand-writing. The man twirled his quill between his fingers before adding a line to one of her paragraphs and looked up at her.
"Well, at least you have a sense of time." He said before storing the essays in his desk drawer.
With a sigh, Allyson supposed was entirely for her benefit, he stood up and placed a bucket with a sponge inside it on one of the tables in front of her. "You may start with cleaning the floors. And I presume you've looked yourself up some spells, so if you would give me your wand." He said, silkily. "No magic outside the lessons, as I'm sure you remember."
Allyson felt more than a tad disappointed that he had so easily caught on to her and she glowered. Reaching for her wand, she took it out of the pocket of her sweater and gave it to him. He twirled it around his long fingers before throwing a dark grey scarf around his neck. "Follow me,"
A side door led them into the Potions classroom and she eyed the tables, stacked with cauldrons wearily. Almost every one of them had dried goo encrusted on their sides and she didn't even dare to think what it might have been.
"You may leave when you are finished," he told her woefully. "I see you in a bit, Miss Gilbert."
She had to actively fight the urge to throw the bucket through the room and peered at the dark tables. Although less dirty, they were dirty all the same. She sighed listlessly and set the bucket down into the sink, filling it with water. Snape was hovering at the door and she peered at him through thick lashes. If she didn't know better than she would have said he looked troubled. "The tables and the cabinets will be enough. Leave the cauldrons as they are."
Allyson nodded slowly, watching the man turn on his heel and walk out of the classroom with firm steps. When she heard his footsteps fade away she pursed her lips thoughtfully and looked around the classroom again. There were still enough tables and cabinets to clean for her to miss the match completely, yet, without the cauldrons, she could at least a part of her Saturday without aching hands. Adding soap to the lukewarm water, she set to cleaning the tables. It wasn't long until before cleaning the tables and cabinets had her grumbling under her breath and with more force than necessary, she dropped her cauldron onto one of the tables. The water was turning murky already and eighty percent of the tables still needed a thorough cleaning.
Although the cold of the dungeons wasn't bothering her now, yet, her sweater was damp and soapy plastered against her body. She scrubbed away aggressively humming an old lullaby tone to distract herself from the tedious task but it was taking long. Exhaling softly, she wiped her hand over the gathering sweat-beads on her forehead and dropped the sponge on the table. It would have gone much faster if she had magic to clean the tables and cabinets.
She pursed her lips. Till three months ago, she'd never needed a wand to make magic happen. And although it was against popular believe her magic had never really been triggered by accidental magic. She possessed a too strong of control over her magic to call it accidental. From what she'd understood magic in children was often emotionally triggered and completely chaotic. From the tender age of seven, she had been able to trigger it at will and control it. The raw magical power that ran through her whenever she had called upon it never felt as if it was chaotic, even if she would have loved to have such an excuse.
Rubbing her fingers absentmindedly over her temples she stared at the sponge. She had used magic in a situation similar to this when she had gotten into an argument with a classmate and ended up having to wipe the blackboard clean. Back then she had relied on the burning sensation to aid her and now, she was going to do so too. Squeezing her eyes closed she concentrated on her heartbeat, picturing what she wanted vividly. It started slowly, a slight change in the balance until the whole world seemed to lurch. Allyson felt the heat of energy, her magic she now knew, run up and down her body, setting every nerve on fire. It moved up beneath her skin and she opened her eyes again. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth she concentrated hard.
"Scourgify,"
She wasn't entirely sure if something would happen. Wasn't sure if it would work like this, but she felt something building up inside her and then it all burst free, swooshing past the tables. She saw it pass over the tailboards as a small shockwave, repelling the dirt and as the magic moved outwards, she had to catch herself on a table. Her heart was beating rapidly and as she tried to get her breathing under control, she peered around, somewhat exhausted. Water was puddling on the cold flagstone floor and the walls, cabinets and tables were gleaming faintly in the light of the torches on the wall.
Pulling herself up Allyson had to lean heavily on the edge of the table before her vision sharpened. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she grabbed a towel from beside the tap and cleaned the floor. With a soft sigh, she placed the bucket under the sink and placed the sponge on the old tile of the sink and peered through the room again. Snape's desk was still somewhat damp from the water and she crossed the room again — towel fisted between her fingers. Picking up a stack of papers she slowly placed it down on a chair and went to dap at the water. Rubbing it dry, she noticed another paper stuck in the top desk drawer and the desktop. She was about to pull it loose when Snape dashed into the room. His face was contorted in anger and he looked ready to commit murder. Gulping nervously, she placed the paper down on top of the others and continued to clean the desk off, praying he wouldn't notice the use of magic.
"You may depart, Miss Gilbert." The man hissed, as he carelessly flicked his wand; the bucket, tea-towel and sponge disappeared into thin air and Allyson nodded.
She inched away from his desk and snatched her bag from a chair before she ran out of the classroom. As she crossed the corridor, she came across the other Slytherin's. All of them were looking foul, and Allyson absentmindedly felt for her wand.
And then she skipped to a halt.
Her wand— 'Shite!'
Groaning, she turned around and retreated her steps to the dungeons. She arrived back at Snape's office, the door was open and she saw him go through the papers she had seen him go through before.
"What is it now, Miss Gilbert? Didn't I dismiss you?" He asked, not bothering to look up from the files.
Allyson inwardly cringed. He was in a very unpleasant mood…
"Excellent point, Sir, but you still have my wand." She replied taking special care to sound polite.
He sighed, straightened himself and looked up at her. Pulling it from his robe, he strode up to where she was standing and gave it to her. "I would advice you to stay out of trouble for further notice."
She nodded and stepped back, while he slammed the door closed in her face. 'Fairly unpleasant' as a description for the man was an understatement. Without any further disruptions, she made it to the Quidditch field. Although the Slytherin stands were deserted, the other students were still there. Looking around she spotted the bushy hair from her Hermione dancing around the other Gryffindors. The festive mood was contagious and she smiled.
"Ally! You're here?" Hermione said, skidding up to her. "We won!"
Allyson nodded, smile broadening. "Good, how's Harry?"
The older girl bit her lip before glancing around. "Well, he's all right I guess." She explained and when she noticed Allyson's worried expression she shrugged. "Nothing really, he's just a bit— startled. That's all."
Allyson inclined her head, waiting for the other girl to continue. When Hermione made no cue to continue, she sighed and crossed her arms impatiently. "And what startled is Harry?"
Hermione sighed, before grabbing Allyson's hand and dragged her away from the pitch towards a secluded spot.
"Snape! He tried to hex Harry's broom!" she explained in a hushed tone, looking around as if the Potions Master himself would suddenly pop up behind them.
Allyson's eyebrows shot up. "Come again? I thought you didn't buy all the conspiracy theories the boys have going on?"
"I don't— Well, I didn't!" The girl huffed and swatted her hair over her shoulder. "At first I didn't, but I know a possession spell when I see one!"
"Okay so to get this straight: Snape tried to possess Harry's broom— and you…"
"I set him on fire so he lost his concentration," Hermione said, puffing her chest slightly.
"Oh, of course, you set him on fi— Excuse me?" Allyson spluttered. "Wicked," she said, finally registering Hermione's words. "Pity I couldn't participate in the fun. I had to clean the tables in the dungeons. Well, at least he didn't have me mop the floor. And I didn't have to do the cauldrons. I suppose it wasn't all that bad."
Hermione nodded although Allyson didn't think the older girl ever had a detention before in her life. "Come on, the boys are waiting for us. Hagrid invited us— well, mostly Harry— for tea."
Allyson nodded, frowning while following the other girl passed the lake, over the grass and towards the edge of the forest where Hagrid's cabinet was located. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes stood against the wall next to the front door. When Hermione was about to knock Hagrid threw the door open and smiled broadly at the two girls. "Ello girls, come in!"
They smiled back before stepping inside. The hut had only one room, with hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling. There was a fireplace roaring softly and a copper kettle hung above the dark amber heart. In the corner was a massive bed with a patchwork quilt and a huge moleskin coat hung from the edge.
Harry sat slumped in one of the cushions. At first, Allyson hadn't even noticed him because only his head was visible, but as she followed Hermione further into what she supposed served as the living quarters, she noticed his unruly dark hair. Ron sat across from him, a sneer firmly in place, but Allyson didn't care.
"Are you okay?" She asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, having to hold herself up with the other. Harry, who still wasn't all that used to friendly physical contact, stiffened for a second before relaxing and leaning his head back against her shoulder.
"I'm fine,"
"I swear!" Ron cried at Hagrid, "It was Snape, he tried to curse Harry's broomstick." Before looking over at Hermione, who just stepped into the hut. "Wouldn't take his eyes off him."
Although slowly letting go of Harry, she kept her hand resting on his shoulder and sat down on the edge of the table near the window. Hagrid grumbled something under his breath as he glanced at Harry, who absentmindedly raked his fingers over Allyson's hand in a way that made it clear he wasn't as okay as he seemed to think.
"But why would Snape want to jinx Harry?" she asked, shifting her hand so she could catch Harry's. He seemed to appreciate the simple gesture and she noticed the tension leave his shoulders.
"Rubbish," Hagrid exclaimed as he poured hot water into a teapot and walked over towards the little table in the middle of the room. "Now why would he do that?" Hagrid argued. "He ain't a professor for nothing!"
Harry and Ron shared a look before Hermione nodded almost undetected.
"We found something out," Harry began. "On Hallowe'en Snape tried to get past that three-headed dog, on the third floor! It bit him! We think he tried to steal whatever it is it's guarding"
Hagrid dropped the teapot and with a crash china littered the floor. "How do you know about Fluffy?"
"Fluffy?" Harry echoed.
"Don't tell me the dangerous Cerberus is yours, now is it?" Allyson asked, "Mythical monsters don't make good pets, or do they?"
"Course he's mine and he's a darling." Hagrid began. "Bought him off a Greek chappie, I met in the pub las' year— I lent him to Dumbledore to Guard the —"
"Yes?" Harry said eagerly, sitting up immediately.
"Now, don't ask anymore," Hagrid said grumpily. "That's top secret, that is!"
"If that's so, then why did Professor Snape go to the third floor instead of the dungeons, when that troll was in the school?" Allyson asked. "If he's supposed to protect it, then why the hell would he try to get past that bea— Fluffy?"
"And why did he try to kill Harry?" Hermione added shrilly. Her face was contorted in raw anger, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. It seemed she had done a full 180, where Snape was concerned. "I read all about jinxes, you have to be in utmost concentration! You've got to keep eye contact. Snape didn't blink! Not even once!"
"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid exclaimed hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen to me, all four of yeh — yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guarding', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel —"
"Aha!" Harry exclaimed. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"
Hagrid looked furious with himself. Practically shooing them out of the cabin and slammed the heavy wooden door in their faces. They stood on the doorstep to the rickety old hut for a moment before tracking out onto the grounds again.
"Right," Ron began, staring at Hermione expectantly. "Who's Nicolas Flamel?"
Harry followed his gaze and smiled. "Yeah, who's that?"
Hermione bristled before her face turned scarlet. "I have no idea." She huffed, obviously not pleased with the idea that she did not know about something.
Nicolas Flamel. Well, it did sound familiar, that she had to admit. She read about him for one of the many history assignments her tutor insisted on and she frowned in concentration. Digging through her memory, she tried to go back to her home-schooled lessons. She had gone through many subjects with her Muggle tutor. Marco was in many ways an eccentric man, but he had really liked his subject and taught it well. She almost smiled when she envisioned the face he would make when child-Allyson hadn't known something.
"I think—" She began. "I know him. From one of my history lessons."
Massaging her temples, she bit her lower lip. "I just—" The three Gryffindors turned towards her.
"You do?" Hermione asked, looking even less pleased.
Allyson nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I believe— I think that Nicolas Flamel was a French Alchemist who lived in the 14th century. There was something else, but really; I wasn't that good at history." She finished as an afterthought. Hermione looked somewhat pleased with that explanation and Harry and Ron frowned. It was, of course, a lie. Allyson had loved history. While she might sleep through Binns' lessons she did read up on them in the afternoons. The old ghost quoted directly from the oldest version of the book 'Accurate Historical facts' and reading from the book was much better than listening to the ghost droning on and on.
"Bugger!" Harry exclaimed softly. "That doesn't change much. Your Flamel lived in the 14th century, but we need to find out which Flamel lives in this time."
"We need the library for that," Hermione decided and the others nodded slowly.
"Right," Ron answered dryly.
"Sounds like a sensible option." Allyson nodded ignoring Ron's petrified expression and peered over at Hagrid's chicken coop. The chickens and the rooster crowded around the coop, poking their beaks out through the fence while peering up at the humans.
"We might want to go and have dinner first though." Harry decided and the others nodded. The sun was setting and long shadows stretched out on the ground. Allyson wrapped her arms around her middle and followed behind the others. She had the unpleasant feeling of someone watching them and when the bushes behind them rustled, she quickened her pace. It was hardly safe on the grounds with the dark-robed stranger skulking around during the night and she hesitantly peered over her shoulder. The edge of the forest was already hidden in shadows, but she was reasonably sure two glowing orbs were peering back at her.
She shivered and turned her face to the castle again. Despite the chilly air, the cold that settled into her bones was from a whole different degree then.
To be continued...
A/N: I'll admit the love for history that's all me. My dad really enjoyed history. Or at least some parts of history. So that would be all me. I remember that when I read Hp and the Sorcerers stone that I knew who Nicolas Flamel was hahaha. But than again I loved fiction and read every book I could get my hands on. I'm sorry for the rambling, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and let me know what you think!
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