Author's Note: Last chapter of Year One! Confrontations with Voldemort! Escape plans! Cryptic messages! Promises of a SEQUEL!
At this point I would like to thank the following reviewers for their continued support:
Shadowsmage, annadoesfanfic, RebeliousOne, lightning king, AshantiVL, Kairan1979, Pisces Heiress Black, mwinter1, AngelQueen, quietlovingman, and Just Another Aceves.
Cookies for all of you!
~ The Philosopher's Stone ~
If the three-headed dog had been terrifying before, it was doubly so now, with no escape, no way to scream, and a stutter-less Quirrell at their backs. Neville whimpered at the sight of the dog, Su glanced around trying desperately to think of a way to notify the other teachers of their kidnapping, and Harry was wriggling around his restraints, trying to loosen the ropes at his wrists.
Fluffy growled as the intruders neared, but Quirrell conjured a harp, and it began to play a soft and sweet lullaby. The gentleness of the music was so contrasted to their desperate and frightening situation, Su and Neville sobbed even harder.
Harry, however, was still grim and determined.
"Come on," Quirrell tugged on their ropes and they stumbled after him towards the trap door that Fluffy had been guarding. Quirrell pulled it up and gestured for them to jump inside. "If you don't jump, you'll regret it," he hissed, raising his wand.
Crying, the three first years did as they were told.
They landed on something soft, though they couldn't see what it was in the dark. The silencing charm was wearing off, but they seriously doubted that anyone was going to hear them screaming any time soon.
Quirrell jumped down after them, and with a flick of his wand, the trap door closed again. A whispered lumos later, and they were all bathed in a soft blue light.
The light revealed the trio, wrapped in climbing vines, curling around their bodies, trapping them in a web of plant-ropes. Quirrell scowled.
"What is this?" He hissed, slashing at the plant with his wand as it tried to wrap around his legs.
Su and Harry glanced at Neville – he was a Herbology expert, and the answer from the book escaped Su's memories in all the terror of kidnapping.
The boggart had been one thing – but it was only a shade of true terror – a pale imitation. Here was the true Voldemort (albeit, attached to the back of someone else's head) and he was willing to kill.
Quirrell noticed them looking at Neville, and turned his attention to the boy as well.
"Well, boy?" He scowled. "Do you know what this is?"
"D-devil's snare," Neville sobbed. "Please, sir…"
"Stop whining," Quirrell snapped, casting a sunlight charm, which caused the Devil's Snare to shrink away from its victims. "Keep walking."
The three children did as they were told, Harry still working furiously at his ropes. They were too tight, and nothing was happening, however.
Quirrell lead them down a dark passageway that sloped downward, deeper beneath the castle. All they could hear was their footsteps, their harsh breathing, and the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls.
"Can you hear something?" Neville whispered.
They could. A soft rustling and clinking sound came from up ahead.
"Keep walking!" Quirrell barked.
They followed the passage, spying a light up ahead. Soon they found themselves in a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room.
On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.
Quirrell left them standing at the chamber entrance to go examine the door, and then he began casting all sorts of charms and spells on it.
"Do you think we should make a run for it?" Harry whispered, glancing back at the passageway. Neville shook his head.
"He's got a wand. We're tied up. And there's no way to get back up through the trapdoor." He said.
"So what do we do?" Harry asked.
Quirrell had turned away from the door at this point, and was looking up at the birds.
"Accio key!" He shouted. Nothing happened. It did, however, remind Su of something.
"Do you remember when I was trapped in the broom shed with the boggart?" She asked. The boys grimaced and nodded. "I summoned my wand then, because Pansy had stolen it… I think, if Quirrell was distracted, I could summon our wands back."
They looked over at the professor in question, who had climbed onto a broom now, and was being attacked by the sparkling birds.
"What do we do when we get our wands back?" Neville asked.
"I don't know," Su admitted. "Get the ropes off, I guess. The rest we'll just have to play by ear."
"I'm scared," Neville admitted.
"Me too," Su huddled closer to him.
"We all are," Harry told them. "We'll get through this. We just have to keep our heads, that's all."
"Easier said than done," Su replied.
A few minutes later, a very much worse for wear Quirrell, with his robes torn and frayed by the attacking birds – keys, winged keys – appeared next to them, picking up the rope and tugging them towards the door.
He unlocked it and opened it, and pushed them through. Light flooded the room as they entered it, revealing a giant chessboard. They were standing behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from some kind of black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces.
Harry, Su, and Neville shivered slightly. The chessmen had no faces. Creepy.
"Stay there," Quirrell hissed. He stepped up next to the black king, who stood aside. Quirrell glared at the white pieces and, finally, one white pawn moved ahead two spaces.
The game had begun.
Taking a deep breath, Su indicated for the two boys to shuffle over behind Quirrell a bit more, so that she'd better be able to summon their wands.
"You can do it, Su," Harry assured her. Neville reached out and squeezed her hand. He had stopped crying now, and looked as determined as Harry did.
"Accio wand," Su whispered. Nothing happened. "Accio wand," she repeated. The game went on for some minutes, while Su concentrated on summoning her wand.
The three of them jumped, however, when the first piece was taken.
One white pawn pulled out a pair of swords and viciously slashed at one of the black pawns, crumbling half of it to dust and rubble on the board, before picking up the other half and tossing it off to the side like yesterday's trash.
"We're going to die," Neville whimpered.
"No. We're not," Harry told him, grabbing hold of Neville's shoulders and forcing the other boy to meet his eyes. "We're not going to die, tonight, Neville."
"Do you know why?" Su whispered, almost to herself. "Because we are so goddamn pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die."
Neville snorted a little, laughing through his tears. "Speak for yourself."
"Accio wand," Su hissed, brow furrowing in concentration. This had better work. If it didn't work, they were dead, and she didn't want to die. It would work, she thought. It would, because it had worked before. If it could work before, it would work now.
"Accio wand," she said again.
The three of them held their breath when, suddenly, her wand slowly – painfully slowly – floated out of Quirrell's pocket. Nobody moved. Fortunately, it didn't appear as though Quirrell had noticed.
Su was glad, actually, for the slow movement, as the wand finally made it into her hand. If it had zipped out faster, Quirrell would have noticed, and they would have been back at square one.
"Okay," she told the boys. "I'm going to wandlessly summon your wands as well, because it moves slower. If the wands zip out any faster, he'll notice."
"What are you muttering about over there?" Quirrell asked, making them jump.
"We were wondering why we're here," Harry told him, thinking quickly. "Who's your 'Master'? Why does he need us? We're just kids."
Quirrell scoffed. "You, Harry Potter, are not an ordinary child, though, are you? The others are superfluous, but I'm sure my Master can make plans for them. However… you, Harry Potter, have a destiny – and I am never a man to deny destiny."
Cackling, Quirrell turned back to the chess game.
"Su," Harry whispered. "Get. Our. Wands."
"On it. Accio wand," she said. This time, because she'd had a little practice, Harry's wand floated out almost immediately. Seconds later, it was in Harry's hand. He wasted no time in quietly applying the cutting charm to Neville's ropes so that the only unarmed one among them would have a chance if Quirrell noticed what was happening.
Su examined the chess game – it was coming to a close, she could tell. After playing with, and watching Ron Weasley play chess, she could recognise that the two opponents were drawing to a conclusion.
"Accio wand," she whispered desperately. Neville's wand flew into her hands, and she subsequently shoved it at him. "Go!" She hissed. "Get help!"
Neville opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment, Quirrell turned around to look at them… and saw Neville unbound with his wand in hand. His eyes flashed dangerously.
"GO!" Harry and Su shouted, pushing Neville into the passageway while Harry shot a leg-locker curse at Quirrell, who deflected the attack easily.
Neville watched his friends face off against their professor, and was about to charge in and help, when Quirrell shot a curse off at him. He ducked under it, scrambling backwards, only to find that the passageway had caved in just in front of him.
He was cut off from his friends… the only way to go was back again.
He could hear Su screaming on the other side of the rubble, and Harry shouting to distract Quirrell's attention away from her. Neville felt terrified.
I have to get help, he thought. I have to save my friends.
Steeling his resolve, Neville ran back up the passageway.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die, Su thought, ducking around the fallen chess pieces, trying to get rid of the stupid ropes. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die, AGAIN!
Aha! The rope came undone, and Su squealed when a bright red spell came hurtling towards her head. Harry tackled her to the ground, probably saving her life.
"Come on!" He shouted, racing towards the door that had opened behind the white chess pieces. Su didn't need to be told twice. She ran after Harry, glad for all the fitness training she had gotten trying to get to classes on time around the maze-like castle.
They dived through the door, slamming it shut just as Quirrell shrieked with rage.
"I hope the chess set rebuilds itself and he has to play through it all over again," Su panted.
"I think we have more pressing problems," Harry gulped.
"You can't be serious," Su screeched. "More pressing than evil Quirrell?"
Harry yanked her out of the way just as the troll's club came down where she'd been standing only moments before.
"Oh," she whimpered, looking up at the monster.
Harry picked up a bit of rubble from the stone that the troll had just smashed and threw it at the other side of the room. Su caught on to his distraction plan, and followed the stone with a mild sonorous charm, so that the sound of it clattering against the floor would echo louder and capture the stupid trolls attention.
It worked, and under some silent agreement, the two eleven-year-olds dashed to the other door, yanking it open and heading inside. As they stepped over the threshold, a fire immediately sprang up behind them. It wasn't an ordinary fire, either: it was purple.
"Better to be safe than sorry," Su muttered, and she began casting the strongest locking charms she knew on the door. They weren't much – only fourth and fifth year level, but they would hopefully slow Quirrell down.
She turned around, Harry was already examining Snape's test and trying to figure out how to get past the black flames on the other side.
"What does the parchment say?" Su asked, peering at the line of bottles on the table.
Harry cleared his throat and read:
"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
two of us will help you, whichever you would find.
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
another will transport the drinker back instead.
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
to help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
you will always find some on nettle wine's left side.
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
but if you would move onward, neither is your friend.
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides.
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."
He looked at Su, bewildered. "What on earth does that mean?" He asked.
"It's a puzzle," Su told him, taking a deep breath. "Thank you god, for Ravenclaw riddles." With that, she picked up the roll of clues and stepped over to the table, muttering as she tapped each glass.
Finally, she came to a conclusion.
"Here," she grabbed up the smallest bottle. "This one takes us forward." She picked up another bottle at the end of the line, and put it where the first had been.
"What's that one do?" Harry asked.
"It takes us back." She looked over at him. "We need to stall for time as much as we can."
"Why not put one of the poisons there instead?"
Su looked over at the bottles, her stomach twisting.
"I've never killed anyone, Harry, I don't think that I can." She told him, voice soft.
Harry gulped. Right. Death. That was kind of a permanent thing.
"Okay, we'll go into the next room, and then charm the door locked," he told her. "If we can, we barricade it further. Then we pray – pray that someone finds us, and saves us." He took a gulp from the small bottle and offered it to Su, who finished off the second half of it.
It felt like ice was flooding through their veins. Before their nerves failed them, Harry took Su's hand and led her through the black flames. They could see the fire licking up their body, but they couldn't feel the flames.
Moments later, they were on the other side.
Neville gulped, looking up at the trap door. He couldn't reach it without flying. To fly, he needed a broom. He'd taken one of the brooms from the key-room but…
He hadn't flown since that first lesson… at least, nothing more than a few feet for a few seconds. Truth be told he was terrified of flying, it was right up there on his list of fears, after Professor Snape, Professor Quirrell, three-headed dogs, and dragons.
"I can do this," he told himself. "Harry and Su need me."
He took a deep breath, and pushed off. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die… he burst out of the trap door, startling Fluffy awake, but he didn't stop long enough for the dog to get its bearings.
He wrenched open the door and flew down the corridors, looking for a teacher – any teacher – to save his friends.
It was just his luck that he ran into Professor Snape.
"Longbottom! What on earth do you think you're doing? Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Snape scowled at the boy. Obviously Potter was a poor influence.
"Sir! Harry and Su have been kidnapped by Quirrell!" Neville ignored his fear of Snape in favour of more important matters.
"What?"
"He's taken them down the trapdoor in the third-floor corridor!" Neville explained. "I escaped, but he's still got them trapped down there! We need to rescue them!"
"Calm yourself, Longbottom," Snape drawled, flicking a patronus to McGonagall. "Remove yourself to the Hospital Wing. I shall take care of this matter."
Neville had never been so grateful for Snape in all his life, and promptly fainted.
Snape sneered.
"Gryffindors," he sniffed, "they're all bluster and no brains."
McGonagall was there a few minutes later, having used all the shortcuts that she knew of, and then bullied the castle into making a few more.
Kidnapped students! Dumbledore was going to get an earful from her when he came back – this little trap of his was causing unnecessary endangerment!
"Blinky," she called, when she found Snape with an unconscious Longbottom. "Take Mr Longbottom to the Hospital Wing, please." Blinky bowed and obeyed.
"Severus," McGonagall turned to the potions master. "Lead the way. Flitwick will meet us at the corridor."
They swept through the castle, their robes billowing out impressively behind them. Flitwick was, indeed, waiting for them at the door. He renewed the music charm on the harp that Quirrell had left, and when they jumped into the Devil's Snare, he also cast the solaris charm to get them out quickly.
While Flitwick also bypassed his own key-charmed door, Snape and McGonagall were feeling rather put out by how useless they felt. They did expect, however, to get a turn when they caught up to Quirrell.
Kidnapping students indeed.
Harry gaped at the Mirror of Erised, sitting in the middle of the room. This was the new home that Dumbledore had been talking about? Su didn't waste time gawking, however, and searched the room frantically for another exit.
"I'm sorry, Harry!" she was crying. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm so sorry!"
"Hey, hey!" He grabbed her hands, trying to calm her down. Her panicking wasn't helping anyone. "Calm down, Su."
"I'm sorry," she sobbed again. "Harry, I'm not a Gryffindor. I'm not brave. I fold under pressure – I know that. This is all my fault…"
"SU!" Harry yelled. "This isn't your fault. Be quiet. I need to think."
Su shut up. To tell the truth, she was a bit surprised – Harry wasn't usually so assertive. Maybe panic brought out the natural leader in him?
"We need to get out of here, but Quirrell's blocking the exit. He's after the Philospher's Stone, and he thinks that it's here. Are you absolutely positive that if the Stone is here then it's a fake? I mean – this is a trap, right?"
"I'm positive that this is a trap," Su admitted. "I'm not positive about the realness of the Stone, though. Dumbledore's a little…"
"Mad?" Harry suppled. Su nodded. "Alright. What have we got?"
"Our wands," Su looked around. "The mirror. A little bit of time."
"The mirror…" Harry walked over to it. "What do we want, more than anything at the moment?"
"To get out of here," Su breathed, following Harry. "Maybe the mirror will show us how."
They stood in front of it, and saw themselves pulling up a trapdoor in one of the floor stones behind them, escaping the room just as a reflection-Quirrell walked in. Su gasped, and Harry whirled around, pushing her behind him… but the Quirrell that had entered the room was only in the reflection, and so they relaxed.
"Do you think he's past the troll yet?" Su asked, fingering the bottle in her hand. She'd forgotten to put the potion back when she'd taken it. Quirrell would notice the deception, she was sure.
"I hope not," Harry replied, running over to the floor stone they had seen as a trapdoor in the mirror. "Here, help me."
But no matter how they pulled or pushed, or even tried to levitate it, the stone did not move.
"But the mirror showed us!" Su wailed.
"It lied," Harry told her, voice soft. "It doesn't show us the truth. It only shows us what we want. We can't always get what we want."
"No kidding," Su scoffed.
She reached over and held Harry's hand. "I don't want to die," she whispered.
"We've still got our wands," Harry told her. "We still have a chance. I've been reading that book you got me for Christmas – the hexes and curses and jinxes and stuff. We just have to plan this carefully."
He led her by the hand back behind the mirror, so that they would have some cover if Quirrell came in while they were planning.
"Okay, we need to get rid of Quirrell's advantage," Harry said. "He's older than us, so he's got more magical experience. If we take away his wand, it'll be more even. You know the summoning charm, right? I know the full body-bind. Then we wait for Neville's cavalry to arrive." Su trembled. "Su. I know you're not a Gryffindor. That's okay. But you're braver than you think you are, and I know that you can handle this. You're a Ravenclaw – you're smart – what're our odds here?"
"Well…" Su looked down at the wand in her hand. It would be easier to use the summoning spell with it than without. "I think that if we get his wand away from him, we might just have a chance."
Harry nodded. "Alright. I'll stand in front of the door and keep his attention. You stand behind that pillar beside it, and summon his wand when he's distracted. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Su nodded. They took their positions.
It took some time for the three teachers to remove the rubble of the passageway between the Key Room and the Chess Room. Much longer than any of them would have liked. The more time passed, the more likely it was that their students might not make it out of the Dark Lord Trap alive.
Quirrell wasn't in the Chess Room, which McGonagall was happy to bypass with a wave of her wand. Neither was he in the Troll Room, although the troll itself had been brutally torn to pieces. The teachers winced.
They entered the Potion Room, just in time to see Quirrell smirking at them, and passing through the flames. Snape hurried to his collection of poisons, potions, and wines… but the phial that would have allowed them to follow Quirrell through the fire was gone.
"He's taken the potion!" Snape shouted, half tempted to throw the table across the room. With great difficulty, he composed himself.
He didn't necessarily like Li or Potter, but he liked Quirrell even less. Besides, he had made a promise, and he intended to keep it.
"Filius, I need your help with these flames."
Su was so scared she thought she might throw up. Note to self: avoid basilisk next year as much as possible. Do not let ANYONE get into the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry was standing in front of the mirror, pretending to be looking for a way out… or maybe the stone. In reality, he was keeping an eye out for Quirrell walking through the door – the real Quirrell, not an illusion.
Then the man in the purple turban stepped into the room, his eyes locking immediately on the boy-who-lived. Su held her breath and pressed herself against the pillar, hoping that Quirrell wouldn't see her.
"Harry. Potter." Quirrell sneered. "Looking for an escape? There's no way out of here." He levelled his wand lazily at Harry, who had turned to face his foe.
"Accio wand!" Su shouted, breathless with fear. The piece of wood zoomed out of Quirrell's hand. At the same time, Harry raised his own wand.
"Petrificus Totalus!" He screamed.
Quirrell froze up, and fell to the floor, landing face first with a sickening crack.
Su didn't stop to check that he was okay. She ran over to Harry, ashamed of herself when she hid behind him, warily watching the body on the floor.
Harry kept his wand trained on the frozen professor, not taking any chances.
"Hopefully someone will be down to help us, soon," he said. "Now, we wait."
Quirrell started laughing – it was a high, delirious cackle. Only… it didn't sound like Quirrell. Suddenly, the professor on the floor leapt to his feet, summoning his wand back with a wave of his hand, and without even saying anything.
Su screamed and dragged Harry behind the mirror.
"Nice try, brats," Quirrell gloated. "But my master has taught me things that you will never learn… even if you weren't about to die. First, however… the Stone."
Harry and Su were standing back to back behind the mirror, watching for Quirrell to appear on either side and attack them… but nothing happened for a few minutes.
"Where is it?" Quirrell hissed. "I see myself presenting the Stone to my master, but where is it hidden? This is one of Dumbledore's games isn't it? Is it in the mirror – do I need to break it? How? How do I get the Stone?"
"Use the boy…" another voice whispered, low and menacing.
Su sobbed. Harry shivered. Both tightened their grips on their wands.
"Master, I don't think–"
"Use the boy!"
"Who is that?" Harry asked.
Su just shook her head, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. However, in her moment of distraction, Quirrell darted around the mirror, and snatched at her, pulling her wand out of her hand even as he used her as a human shield from Harry.
"Potter," Quirrell spat. "Look in the mirror, or I'll blow your little girlfriend's head off."
"Let go of me!" Su screamed, kicking and writhing and pinching Quirrell. He tightened the grip of his arm around her throat and she squeaked.
"Shut up," Quirrell hissed. "Potter, do as I say."
Slowly, keeping an eye on Quirrell, with a wand pressing into Su's temple, Harry walked around the mirror, until he was standing in front of it.
"Well?" Quirrell scowled. "What do you see?"
Harry looked into the mirror. What did he want most in the world at that moment? He wanted to rescue Su from the clutches of the evil madman. In the mirror, he saw himself running up to Quirrell and knocking Su out of the way. Mirror-Harry wrapped his hands around Quirrell's throat and squeezed the life out of him.
Harry felt ill. He was angry, and he was scared, but he didn't think that he wanted to kill anyone. Maybe he would just squeeze until Quirrell was unconscious. That would work, wouldn't it?
"What. Do. You. SEE?" Quirrell roared, shaking Su as he did so. She was finding it incredibly difficult to breathe, with his arm pressed on her throat like that.
"I see Su and I standing next to our families," Harry lied. "We've escaped, won medals for defeating you, and we're shaking hands with Dumbledore."
"He lies…" that other voice hissed again. "Let me talk to the boy."
Quirrell looked around, seemingly talking to the air: "But Master, you are not strong enough."
"I have strength enough for this…"
Quirrell dropped Su, pushing her towards Harry. He still had her wand, but at this point, she didn't think it would make much difference for her. She glanced at the door, wondering if she and Harry could make a break for it before Quirrell decided to just kill them and get it over with.
Quirrell turned his back on them – surely this was the moment to escape – but as he began unwrapping the turban on his head, Su found herself unable to move.
Where there should have been the back of Quirrell's head, there was a face – the most terrible face that either child had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
"Harry Potter…" it whispered.
The children trembled.
"See what I have become?" the face asked. "Mere shadow and vapour… I have form only when I share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…"
"Voldemort," Harry breathed. The face smiled.
"So you've heard of me?" Voldemort preened. "I am glad. To know that you, of all people, Harry Potter, know my name…"
"Su," Harry said, "you have to get out of here!" He pushed her towards the door, casting the full body bind at Quirrell-Voldemort again.
The professor easily batted the feeble attack aside, even standing with his back to the boy, but Harry had only meant for it to be a distraction. He ran towards the monster that had murdered his parents, and kicked him right between the legs.
Quirrell keened and fell to his knees. Harry took the opportunity to punch Voldemort in the face. The two-faced man – both sides of him – grunted in pain, and Harry took the opportunity to rip Quirrell's wand out of his hands and snap it.
"Damn you, boy!" Voldemort shouted, but Harry ignored him, wrapping his arms around Quirrell's throat the way he'd done to Su only minutes before.
"Shut. Up!" Harry shouted back, squeezing. His scar burned with a terrible pain, but he persisted. "Leave my friends alone! You're evil! You're a murderer!"
Quirrell's face was blistering where Harry's hands touched him, though Harry hardly noticed, blinded by his own pain and fury. Su, trapped by the body-bind that Quirrell had reflected, could only watch in horror as Quirrell, for lack of a better description, bubbled and melted in Harry's grip.
"Nooo!" Quirrell howled, clawing desperately at Harry's arms, trying to release himself from imminent death. As Su watched, a terrible smoky spectre rose from Quirrell's body, screaming as it shot through flames and away into the night.
Both Quirrell and Harry slumped to the floor.
It took almost two minutes for the body-bind to wear off, but to Su, it felt like forever. As soon as it had, she rushed over to Harry, ignoring Quirrell's corpse. He was unconscious, his hands badly burned, his scar bleeding.
"Harry," she whispered. "You saved me. Harry, oh please, oh please, oh please. You have to be okay! You have to be okay, Harry. You have to be…"
She screamed as the wall of flames behind her shot up quickly and then disappeared. She grabbed her wand and, without thinking, shot off as many aggressive spells as she could think of – full-body bind, bat-bogey hex, jelly-legs jinx…
"Calm yourself, Miss Li!" Snape shouted, as he, McGonagall, and Flitwick deflected her attacks. "We're here to save you!"
"Quirrell's dead!" She sobbed. "He was being possessed by Vold- by You-Know-Who. Harry's unconscious. I don't know what's wrong with him!"
"It will be okay, Miss Li," McGonagall shushed the girl, wrapping her up in a hug. Su was too distraught to care how bizarre it was for McGonagall to hug her. "We will take Mr Potter to the Hospital Wing. I'm sure he will make a full recovery…"
McGonagall led the crying girl out of the room. Flitwick floated Harry up and followed her, while Snape was left to deal with Quirrell's corpse.
Something gold was glinting just above him.
The snitch! Harry thought.
He tried to catch it, and accidentally punched someone in the face.
He blinked, but his vision was blurry. Where were his glasses? He fumbled around for them, his hand finally landing on them on his bedside table. Ramming them onto his nose, Harry found himself sitting face to face with Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore's nose was bleeding, Harry noticed, blushing. Oops.
"Not to worry, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, waving his wand at his own face. The bleeding stopped, and the blood disappeared. Harry guessed that the imaginary snitch he'd seen had been the gold rim of Dumbledore's spectacles.
"Professor?"
"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him.
Harry stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on. Then he remembered it – everything – the Stone, Quirrell, being kidnapped…
"Sir! Where's Su? And Neville? Are they okay? Are they hurt? What happened to Quirrell? What happened to Voldemort? Did you know that Quirrell was working for him?"
Dumbledore held up a hand to stop all the questions, chuckling.
"Calm yourself, dear boy," he said. "Your friends are at dinner right now, and will be with us shortly. They are both quite healthy, though rather shaken by their experiences. Quirrell is, I regret to tell you, dead."
"Sir–"
"It is not your fault, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted him gently. "His body could not take the strain of being possessed by Voldemort, and when the spectre left him, he succumbed to Death. It was not a pleasant way to die…"
Harry gulped. To distract himself from thoughts of death, he looked around. He was in the Hospital Wing, lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half a sweet shop.
"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore explained, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons, between yourself, Miss Li, and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends, Fred and George Weasley, were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."
"How long have I been in here?"
"Three days. Mr Longbottom and Miss Li will be most relieved to see you have come round. They've hardly left your side, except for when Poppy forces them to eat."
"What… what happened? Why did I pass out?"
Dumbledore regarded him with serious eyes for a moment, before sighing.
"When Voldemort confronted you as a child, your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that a love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will five us some protection forever. It is in your skin, in your very blood. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."
"But why…" Harry frowned. He was just so confused. "Why did Voldemort go after me in the first place though? Why did he kidnap me? Why does he want to kill me? Please, sir, I just want to know the truth."
"The truth," Dumbledore murmured, looking forlorn, "the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. There are some things that you are just not ready to know, Harry."
Harry opened his mouth to protest – he'd nearly died! Voldemort was after him. Didn't he deserve to at least know why? Couldn't he have a reason for being famous? Why would anyone try to kill a child?
"Voldemort is still out there," Dumbledore said, distracting Harry from his anger. "Now that I've convinced Nicholas to destroy the Stone, one avenue of return has been closed to him. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not really being alive; he cannot really be killed, either. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may have only delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems to be a losing battle next time… and if he is delayed again, why, he may never return to power."
Harry had no idea what that meant, but nodded anyway.
Thank goodness Su and Neville chose that moment to appear. He didn't think that he could take any more of Dumbledore's cryptic wisdom. It was giving him a headache.
"Harry! You're alive!" Su beamed at him, throwing her arms around him and smothering him with hugs, Neville on his other side. Neither of them had paid much attention to Dumbledore, who winked at Harry and then left quietly.
Su turned around, however, and glared at the Headmaster's back.
"Bet he made some deep and mysterious speech about the 'power of love and friendship'," she muttered.
Harry laughed. "Actually, he did." He explained to them about Dumbledore's theory of why Quirrell died and why he survived the Killing Curse the night Voldemort attacked.
"But Harry," Neville frowned. "Your mum can't be the only one who sacrificed herself for her kids! It's been happening for centuries – mothers are famous for it."
"I agree," Su nodded. "There's something more at play here."
"Dumbledore wouldn't tell me why Voldemort – sorry Neville – why Darth Volder was after me, either," Harry said. "He changed the subject when I brought it up. Something about the truth being a strange and terrible thing."
Su and Neville snorted. "That's ridiculous," she said. "He's just trying to make himself seem all wise and mysterious. It's not like he was there to save us when we went down there. It was his fault anyway, keeping something like the Philosopher's Stone in the castle anyway."
"Oh, the Stone's getting destroyed, apparently," Harry remembered, "Dumbledore convinced Nicholas Flamel to get rid of it."
Su's scowl darkened. "Bossing everyone around, who does he think he is?" She continued muttering under her breath, picking up a wrapped chocolate, and tearing the paper wrapping to shreds.
"She's bitter because she's still scared," Neville whispered in Harry's ear. "I don't know what she saw down there with you, but it's shaken her. She's all jumpy – almost hexed me when I tapped her on the shoulder yesterday."
"I don't blame her," Harry admitted. "It was pretty terrifying…" he trailed off, looking around for Madam Pomfrey or anyone else who might be listening. "Look, I think… I think Dumbledore almost meant for that to happen."
"What?" Neville squeaked. Su stopped shredding the paper to look up at him.
"Well, maybe not exactly that," Harry admitted. "But I think he gave me the invisibility cloak – something he said to me when he told me not to look in the Mirror again – and the Mirror… why was it just sitting around, waiting to be found, just when he'd given me the cloak? I think he wanted me to see it. And Hagrid, he couldn't keep secret what the Stone was or anything – why did Dumbledore tell him about it if he wanted to keep it a secret? There were all these clues to what was going on… someone going after the stone… I don't know if he meant for us to get kidnapped, but I think he might have wanted me at least to face Darth Volder."
"Why?" Neville asked.
"Hero-training," Su whispered angrily. "Bet he's trying to groom Harry into some kind of Dark-Lord-Defeater. I mean, he's already done it once, so why not drum him up to do it again and again? And if he's got some sort of immunity to the killing curse, even better. Harry's like a ready-made soldier."
"That makes a terrible kind of sense," Harry gaped. Su nodded glumly, and then her expression became determined.
"Harry, Neville," she said. "If that's really what Dumbledore's doing, and he's started when Harry's only eleven, I don't think he's going to stop any time soon. We have to prepare ourselves – we don't want to get caught out like we were this year. Even if Dumbledore isn't trying to turn Harry into some kind of wizarding champion, Voldemort still clearly has it out for him, and as Harry's best friends, we'll be in the crossfire."
"You're saying we have to train ourselves?" Neville asked. Su nodded.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," she glowered at the Chocolate Frog card she'd picked up – Dumbledore. "I'm not going to let myself be a victim again."
"I want to go to the feast," Harry told Madam Pomfrey, a day later. "I can, can't I?"
"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realise how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."
"Oh, good," Harry sighed, having been lonely since Madam Pomfrey had ushered Su and Neville out of the Hospital Wing. "Who is it?"
Hagrid sidled through the door, and Madam Pomfrey walked off. As was usual when he was indoors, Hagrid dwarfed everything around him. He sat next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears.
"It's – all – my – ruddy – fault!" He wailed, his face in his hands. "I told the evil git how to get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out and made to live as a muggle!"
Harry had no idea what Hagrid was on about.
"Hagrid!" he shouted, shocked to see his friend so distraught. "Hagrid, this is Voldemort we're talking about. It's not your fault. He's just evil like that."
"Yeh could've died!" Hagrid wailed again. "An' don't say the name!"
"VODLEMORT!" Harry bellowed, startling Hagrid so much that he stopped crying. "Voldemort is just a name, Hagrid," he said, "I could have died, yes. But I didn't. I'm still here, okay? Everything will be all right. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads…"
Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
"Thanks, Harry," he said, taking the Chocolate Frog. "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present. Fer yer birthday. Bit early, I know, but still…"
"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" Harry joked, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.
"Nah, 's better than that."
Hagrid pulled the present out of his pocket and handed it to Harry. It seemed to be a handsome, leather-bound book. Harry opened it curiously… it was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother, and his father, and some other men and women who must have been their friends.
"I sent owls off ter all your parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos… knew yeh didn't have any… d'yeh like it?"
Harry couldn't speak, only smile through his tears. Hagrid grinned back.
Later, Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing, and forced to submit to a last-minute check up. By the time he made it to the Great Hall, it was already full.
It was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver, to celebrate Slytherin's winning of the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner bearing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.
When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly all at once. Harry waved to Su, sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and then took a seat between Neville and the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table, trying to ignore all the people whispering and staring at him.
Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore announced cheerfully. "What a year it has been. Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were when you began… and you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…
Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three-hundred and fifty-two points; third place, Ravenclaw, with four-hundred and twenty-six points; second place, Gryffindor, with four hundred and twelve points; and in first place, Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy two points!"
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry saluted Blaise Zabini, who was looking very pleased. Zabini raised his goblet to Harry in return.
Su was sitting at Ravenclaw, praying that what had happened in the book would not happen here. Please don't award last minute points! I don't want to be praised for being kidnapped! Oh please, oh please, oh please…
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore hummed. "However… recent events must be taken into account."
Su couldn't take it. She stood up, and walked out of the hall – to everyone's surprise. Even Dumbledore was startled into speechlessness. Harry and Neville exchanged glances, before standing up and running after their friend, wondering what was wrong.
Behind them, the student population erupted in whispers and speculations.
Harry and Neville found Su hyperventilating in the far corner of the Entrance Hall. She was sitting down, because her knees had been shaking so badly they wouldn't hold her up anymore.
"Su?" Harry asked, kneeling next to her. "What's wrong?"
"Dumbledore was about to award us points for surviving an encounter with a madman," she hissed, both angry and horrified. "I don't want to sit there while he alienates the entire Slytherin population. We were just in the wrong place in the wrong time… we were even out past curfew! I just… I didn't… I can't…"
She couldn't think straight. She wasn't even sure what she was talking about at this point. She just knew that she didn't want to be in that hall any longer.
"Su, what are you talking about?" Neville asked.
She just shook her head and started crying. Her friends stayed there with her, each with a hand on her shoulder. McGonagall found them sitting there, a few minutes later.
"Miss Li, are you quite all right?" She asked.
Su took a deep breath. "I will be, I think," she said. "I'm just a little overwhelmed, that's all. There were so many people in there… and they were staring at me… I couldn't handle it. I'm sorry."
"That's okay, dear," McGonagall assured her. "Why don't you go eat in the kitchens with Mr Potter and Mr Longbottom? I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would understand. Do you know how to get to the kitchens?"
The trio nodded.
"Well then," McGonagall smiled. "Off you go. Be sure to return to your common room before curfew, though."
"We will," Neville promised.
They later found out that after their disruptive exit from the Great Hall, Dumbledore had forgotten what his speech was about, so Slytherin had still won the house cup.
The next day, everyone received their exam results – which the trio had forgotten in all the excitement of, you know, getting kidnapped and almost dying.
To their great surprise, both Harry and Neville had passed with good marks; Neville did exceptionally well in Herbology, while Harry excelled in Transfigurations and Potions – though his Potions grade had only barely scraped into an O.
Hermione Granger had received the best marks of all first years, but Su had beaten her in both Potions and Charms. The two had bantered amicably about the results, Su promising to top Granger the next year, and Granger inviting her to bring it on.
Before they knew it, their wardrobes were empty and their trunks were packed. Notes were handed out to all the students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays (I always hope they'll forget to give us these," moaned Fred Weasley).
In no time at all, they had climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express, talking and laughing as they made their way home, and finally drawing up at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
"Bye Harry! I'll write you, I promise!" Neville shouted, waving at them. "Bye Su!"
"Bye!" Neville disappeared beyond the barrier with his Gran.
Harry and Su had trouble staying together as they were jostled through the barrier alongside all their classmates and their families.
"Bye, Harry!"
"See you, Potter!"
Half the people Harry waved to he had never even spoken to. When he told Su this, she laughed at him.
"The price of fame," she said.
"Why aren't people saying goodbye to you?" He asked. "You were there with Quirrell, too."
"Harry, you were the one who actually did all the work," she told him. "I was largely useless. Plus, you're famous already; so all the rumours are that you did everything by yourself. Neville and I just don't stand out us much as you do."
"You weren't useless," Harry protested. "You got our wands, and figured out the potion riddle. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead."
"Yeah, well…" she shrugged, blushing.
"Harry! Su!" The Weasley twins showed up behind them, wearing identical mischievous grins. "We've got someone who wants to meet you!"
"Mum! It's Harry Potter! Mum!"
It was Mrs Weasley, with her daughter at her side, pointing excitedly at Harry.
"It's rude to point, Ginny," Mrs Weasley scolded lightly, before smiling down at Harry and Su. "It's so nice to meet you both, the boys have been writing about you all year!"
"Really?" Harry glanced up at the twins. "That's nice. I wanted to thank you for the fudge and the jumper, Mrs Weasley. I loved them."
"Me too," Su offered up. "The colour's wonderful."
"Oh, it was nothing, dears," Mrs Weasley waved them off, blushing. "It was my pleasure, really. Just to let you know, if you ever want to visit over the summer, you're welcome to stay! The more the merrier, you know."
"Hurry up, boy!" Harry's thanks were interrupted by the untimely appearance of Uncle Vernon, purple faced and very round. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.
"You must be Harry's family!" Mrs Weasley beamed at them. The Dursleys shrunk back from her, as if magic were a contagious disease.
"In a manner of speaking," Uncle Vernon grunted. "Hurry up, boy! We haven't got all day." He walked away with Petunia and Dudley.
Harry hung back for a few last goodbyes.
"I'll write you," he told the Weasleys, waving at them as they shuffled off. They beamed at him, the twins ruffling his hair, and Mrs Weasley wrapping him up in a big, warm hug.
Then it was just Su and him, alone in the crowd.
"You don't have to go with them," she told him quietly. "How they treat you… it's not right. You don't have to put up with that, Harry."
"Where else would I go?"
"Mrs Weasley would take you in. I'm sure I could ask Aunt Bea and Uncle Nate. They'd be glad to help you." Harry shook his head.
"I couldn't do that," he said. "I don't want to be a burden."
Su almost said that Harry was a burden for the Dursleys… but it wasn't something that he ever needed to hear. Instead, she threw her arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight hug.
He was so much more to her now than just a boy from a story – a fairytale hero that couldn't be touched in reality. He was her friend – her best friend – and she was going to miss him so, so much.
"I'll come visit you," she promised. Harry nodded, and then trotted away, chasing after the Dursleys so that they wouldn't leave him stranded at the station.
Su watched him go, her heart clenching. She hoped he'd be okay…
"Su?" She turned around, and there, standing in front of her, were Beatrice and Nathan. They were smiling at her uncertainly – well, she hadn't replied to any of their letters since Christmas, so it was understandable.
They were rather surprised when she threw herself into their arms, so incredibly relieved to see them that it wasn't funny.
"Su, what's been going on?" Nathan asked. "We got a letter from McGonagall saying that you'd been fighting a teacher, and that you were in the hospital… and then Amelia Bones wrote us about a boggart in October… your grades are fantastic, by the way, we're very proud… Su, what's been going on?"
"It's a long story," she told them, but she wasn't really listening, too fascinated by the bundle of cloth in Beatrice's arms. Her adoptive parents blushed.
"Right, that," Nathan coughed. "Well, we were going to tell you at Christmas… and then Easter… but you never came home. It's really the sort of thing you have to say to someone's face. She was born last month – Su, this is your little sister… er, sort of."
Beatrice smiled. "Her name is Jasmine. Would you like to hold her?"
Su nodded, holding her breath as the tiny baby was placed in her arms.
"Gorgeous," Nathan breathed. "All my girls, together. I love you all so much."
"I love you guys too," murmured Su, almost too happy for words.
Nathan nodded. "Right. Well. When we get home, you'll have to tell us that long story."
Su sighed. "All right. I promise."
Beatrice sighed. "I hope your second year will be far less eventful."
Su doubted it.
A/N: END OF FIRST YEAR! YAY! About the points: because there was no Norbert Fiasco, Gryffindor did not lose 150 points, so they weren't bottom of the rankings. Dumbledore was totally about to screw the Slytherins over, but was so surprised by Su's dramatic exit that he forgot to.
Su and the Li's have terrible communication skills. Not gonna lie. None of them seem to have the ability to write letters about majorly important events.
A sequel will appear at some point. Probably soon. Be prepared for basilisks and creepy diaries and annoying Lockharts. And Dobby.
As always; please review to tell me what you think!