Declaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Narnia, or any other anime/manga and book works mentioned.
Chapter 20: The Man With Two Faces
Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.
"Hmm," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter. Though I didn't expect to have company." His eyes shifted to Peter and Ivan. "Especially not two of them. But then again, it seems that even Albus is having trouble with the both of you, isn't he?" He narrowed his eyes at the two immortals. Ivan quickly came to shield Peter from his view, meeting the man's aura with his own killing intent, shocking Quirrell into backing off.
"But I thought - Snape -" said Harry, still too in shock and deep thought over this revelation to notice his surroundings.
"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"
Ivan laughed and Harry thought back to Edmund's words. They knew, he realized, his eyes wide.
"You knew," he stated. "You knew, but you didn't-"
"We tried," said Peter. "But you won't believe us. There wasn't enough prove for you. No evidence that would satisfy you."
"Da," agreed Ivan. "That is why we had to keep a close eye on you. Besides, Piter, was in danger too."
Harry couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't. "But Snape tried to kill me! You all saw it!"
"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter curse, trying to save you."
"See, Ed was right," Peter remarked.
Harry was still in disbelief. "Snape was trying to save me?"
"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular..."
"Da," agreed Ivan. "That he did."
"And what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."
"Not if we can help it!" Peter shouted, taking out his wand and firing at Quirrell as he emerged from behind Ivan.
Quirrell merely smiled and snapped his fingers with one hand while the other was held up to make a shield. "I honestly did not expect the extra company, but it should be fine. The more the merrier, they say." Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around the boys, causing Peter to drop his wand. "You lot are too nosy to live. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."
"You let the troll in?"
"No duh, Harry," said Peter, rolling his eyes and trying to get out of the bind. "Did you or did you not notice that his guard was a troll? The same troll we took down? Honestly."
Quirrell smiled. "Smart, aren't you?"
"Have to be, to survive in a family like mine."
"Ahh yes. Slytherin blood. And a traitor... All the more reasons to kill you, both of you." He looked to the smiling Ivan, who did not even try to get out.
"Severus suspected you," Ivan spoke up.
"Certainly. While everyone else was running around looking for the troll, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly." Peter winched. "Now, wait quietly, children. I need to examine this interesting mirror."
Peter finally took note of the mirror standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.
"so that what it looks like..." He said. "Reminds me of the one back at home..."
"I suddenly thought of Hearts' sacred treasure," Ivan laughed at the image of the golden gate mirror in his head.
"No, this mirror is different."
"Da."
"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame.
"Ivan!" Peter whispered to the Russian next to him. "Do something! Stop staring at the mirror and do something damn it!"
Ivan stayed quite, seemingly lost in whatever he had seen in the mirror, if the genuine smile on his face was anything to go by.
Peter groaned. "Guess I'll have to help myself…" he closed his eyes and concentrated. Harry watched as the winds seem to shift around him and the boy floated. Harry could make out small traces of blue wind around him. The air seemed much lighter and purer, for some reason.
"Distraction," Ivan muttered, his eyes still focused on the mirror. "Illusion."
Harry looked at him before turning to Quirrell, who still seemed busy with examining the mirror.
"Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back..."
Harry decided to take Ivan's advice, if you could call it that, and tried to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. "I saw you and Snape in the forest -" he blurted out.
"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back.
Good, thought Harry, glancing at Peter from the corner of his eyes. He's not looking this way. He returned his gaze to Quirrell.
"He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..." Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it just as the ropes loosened around Peter and he stood on the ground once more. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they won't budge. Peter, Harry thought for sure that the boy's eyes seemed green for a moment there- must've been his imagination or a trick of the light, had taken to go to Ivan's rescue first. Harry didn't know whether he should feel betrayed and worried by that or not.
"Keep talking," Peter whispered, motioning with his hand toward the mirror just as he tried to pray, with both his hands, Ivan's face away from said mirror. "Come on Ivan, come off it!"
Harry nodded in understanding at Peter's words and gestures. He had to make sure Quirrell's attention wasn't fully on the Mirror. "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much," he said.
"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."
"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you..."
For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.
"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - he is a great wizard and I am weak -"
"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.
Peter finally had enough. "Ivan, snap out of it!" Peter yelled out.
Both he and Harry quickly looked toward Quirrell and was glade he didn't turn around, still too lost in thought to do so. Both breathed a small breath of relieve before Peter returned his focus to the Russian once more.
"Stop looking into the Mirror and help us here! I know you're not seeing the Stone, that's the last thing both you and I would want! Now snap out of it!"
"But Piter," said Ivan, finally turning away from the Mirror. "If you look, you'll see it too. What you desire the most from your father."
Peter was taken aback by that and now seemed tempted to peek.
"Peter!" Harry yelled.
Peter looked back at him, still bound in ropes and all. "Oh, right." He made his way to Harry, the wind once more at his command as it cute the ropes clean off.
"Thanks," said Harry.
Peter nodded and turned back to Ivan, who had also gotten loose. Now all three focused their attention on Quirrell.
"He… my Master. He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it..."
"Alfred would probably agree with that, deep down," smiled Ivan.
"We would all agree with it," Peter stated. "What should we do?"
Ivan put a hand to his lips and shushed the children, before turning back to Quirrell. "I want to hear more, da," he said, smiling. "He reminds me of Lat… Raivis, da."
Peter sweet dropped and put his hands up into the air in defeat, sitting down to listen. Harry on the other hand, did not want to do that, and so made his way forward. However, Ivan's sudden grip on his arm stopped him and he looked up at the smiling Russia, who wasn't even looking back at him.
"Do not worry, little one," he said. "I am here. You are safe."
For some reason, Harry couldn't quite believe that, as he shivered a little.
"Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me..." Quirrell's voice trailed away.
Ivan smiled. "Closer watch da?"
"Ivan," warned Peter. "Please. He's my friend."
"Da, I know."
"I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?" said Quirrell, unsure.
Harry's mind was racing. He had to find a way to look into the mirror without Quirrell noticing. Then he'll know where the Stone is hidden. And as Ivan has already looked and seemed as though the Stone was not the thing he desired the most, and neither was it Peter's, if their words were anything to go by, it was all up to him. Harry tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but Ivan held him back and pulled Harry closer to him. Quirrell was still ignoring them and harry didn't know if he should now be annoyed by that or not.
The man was still talking to himself, completely unsuspecting and off guard. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"
And to both Peter and Harry's horror, but Ivan's amusement- as his smile widened, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.
"Use the boy... Use the boy..."
Quirrell rounded on Harry and was shocked to see all of them out of the ropes. "How did you-! No matter." Harry panicked as the man snapped his figures once more and this time, instead of ropes, it was chains. And it was wrapping itself on Peter and Ivan, pulling the two up toward two high pillars in the room. The chains tigtly sucured them to the pillars and then two sharp spears appeared on either side of the two, hovering in midair.
Peter groaned. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he said.
Ivan, on the other hand, only let out a small laugh and cheery smile. Harry wondered if Draco was right to call him mad.
"You are still merely inexperience children," Quirrell smirked up at his handy work before looking at the shocked Harry once more. "Now - Potter - come here, if you don't want your friends to die." He clapped his hands once, and the spears got closer to Peter and Ivan's neck. Peter reacted normally, but Ivan was still cheery about all of this.
Harry, not wanting anything to happen to his friends, slowly turned around.
"Come here," Quirrell repeated.
"No Harry!" Peter shouted, but moved his head back in fear of the sharp tips of the spears. "Don't! We'll be fine! Don't do it!"
Harry paused for a moment to listen to Peter.
"I said come here, boy!" Quirrell ordered impatiently, waving his hand and causing one of the spears to turn and bore itself into Peter's left leg. Peter cried out in pain and Ivan lost his smile and it was replaced by a full out icy glare that made even Quirrell shiver despite not looking his way. The room seemed to have gotten a bit colder, by this point.
"Stop!" Harry yelled. "I'm coming. I'm coming." He quickly descended the stairs and looked into the mirror.
"Good," said Quirrell, moving close behind him and waved his hand once more, causing the spear to quickly pull itself out of Peter's leg.
Harry winched as, once again, Peter cried out in pain, but quickly the boy bit his lip at the rising temperature of the room and he glanced at Ivan.
"I-Ivan," said Peter, blinking away his tears. "I'm okay. I'm okay."
Ivan merely glanced at him and the temperature went up a little. Both returned their gaze back to the two down below, observing them; Ivan with a serious and grim, yet with a hidden mask of amusement in his expression, while Peter had a pained and worried one on his face.
"Now, look in the mirror and tell me what you see," commanded Quirrell.
Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again to staring into the depths of the mirror at his own reflection.
"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"
"I-I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he answered. "I - I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."
Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said.
Harry moved aside, and Peter's trained eyes noticed the fact that his hand seemed to be lingering on one of his pants pocket. Could it be…?
Peter turned to Ivan, who merely looked back at him, his features relaxed while the tip of the spear was pointed right at his neck.
Ivan then took to freezing his chains and silently breaking them. As he descended, Ivan placed both hands on the two skeletons with their spears pointed up at him, ready to strike him once more. As soon as he touched them, the skeletons froze and broke into small pieces of ice. Ivan quietly landed himself perfectly on the ground and turned back to Peter, a finger raised to his lips as he raised his wand toward Peter.
Peter's mouth hung open in shock and his eyes widened at the wand pointed up at him. Panicked and afraid of the look on Ivan's face, Peter tried to get out of his bond.
"He lies... He lies..."
Peter stopped his struggling, his eyes wide at the eerie voice while Ivan just turned his head over, a frown on his face and a calculating look in his eyes.
Then he returned his gaze to Peter and let the spell fly in three purple lights. Peter closed his eyes, but merely felt a sudden coldness and then the breaking of his chains. His eyes opened in shock and he witnessed the crystal remains of the chains and his wardens. Peter fell softly into the smiling Ivan's arms.
"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"
The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to him... face-to-face..."
Both Peter and Ivan's heads turned toward them and before Peter could jump into action like his older brother, Ivan tightened his grip and quickly ran to hide behind one of the pillars.
"Master, you are not strong enough!"
Ivan let Peter down and glanced back at Harry, his back pressed up against the pillar. Ivan loosened his scarf a bit.
"I have strength enough... for this..."
"Ivan!"
"Sheesh." Ivan covered Peter's mouth, smiling at him. "Patience da, Piter? Besides," he looked down at Peter's bloodied foot and then back at him, causing Peter to shift about uncomfortably at the older immortal's all too knowing gaze, "you are still injured da."
"It'll heal," Peter pouted. "Soon."
"Da. But not soon enough. Remember that you are still not a fully recognized country, Sealand."
Peter glared back at him, finding himself on the same bout as his brother in regards to Russia now; he really hated that smile of Ivan's.
Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away and Peter gasped at the face terrifyingly pale, snake-like face with red ruby eyes that was on the back of Quirrell's small head. Ivan covered Peter's mouth and the boy noticed that he seemed tensed, gripping his pipe tightly.
Then the head turned slowly on the spot to face Harry.
"Harry Potter..." it whispered. "See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can 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... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
Harry stumbled backward and Ivan prevented Peter from rushing in once more.
"Do not interfere, Piter," he ordered. "It's not our time yet da."
"So we wait until Harry dies then?" Peter asked, angry.
"Net. We were ordered not to interfere with the children and let them grow. So we can't interfere just yet."
"Fine." Peter huffed and crossed his arms, pouting.
Ivan let out a small laugh at the similarities.
Quirrell was walking backward at Harry, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling. "How touching..." it hissed. "I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."
"NEVER!" Harry sprang toward the flame door.
Voldemort screamed, "SEIZE HIM!"
"HARRY!" Peter shouted, running out with Ivan following behind him.
Peter tried to go after Quirrell to stall him, but even when pulling on his ropes, Harry still felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. He yelled out in pain as the scar on his forehead burned, causing Ivan to stop and observe with a raised eyebrow on the sideline. Harry struggled with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. Peter let go of the man and watched in shock as he hunched over in pain, his fingers blistering.
"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again.
Quirrell lunged once move, Peter grabbing him back but to no avail as he knocked Harry clean off his feet. He landed on top of Harry, both hands around the boy's neck.
"Ivan!" Peter shouted as Ivan pulled him off of the two and moved away.
Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.
"Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!"
And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms - Harry could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.
"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.
"No!" Peter tried to get out of Ivan's hold, but to no avail.
Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face–
"AAAARGH!" Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too.
"Peter, Piter," said Ivan, calmly with a dangerous smile on his face. "Stop. That hurts. Stop and watch da." Peter stopped his kicking and looked back at the smiling Ivan, his face frustrated and almost close to tears. 'Oh, if only it could've been little Alfie instead,' Ivan thought. "Watch." Ivan pointed to the front and Peter followed his finger.
His eyes widened. "Wha-" said Peter.
"A power greater then anything, hah," observed Ivan, his eyes gazed over as he remembered one young black haired, green eyes girl in a sky blue hanfu smiling back at him.
Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off.
"Keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse da," said Ivan, observing them.
"Wha-" Peter looked up at him in confusion.
"He looks like he's about to faint da."
Peter turned back and quickly ran to support Harry, easily slipping out of Ivan's hold. Ivan followed after him and as soon as he touched Harry's overheating body, Harry felt light headed and cool.
"Harry! Harry!" came voices from the distance.
"Peter! Ivan!" Edmund and Alistair's voices followed.
Harry lost consciousness and fell into Peter and Ivan's arms just as the others came for them.
Dumbledore went for Harry's form while Alistair came to stand behind Peter and the boy rested his head against the older man's chest.
"Alistair, you're here?" Peter whispered out weakly.
"Aye, laddie," he replied. "Ah was worat, sae Ah cam an' mit Albus in th' castle. Th' wee lassie an' Edmund briefed us in oan things an' we quickly cam haur."
"And where's Hermione?"
"She went to check up on how Ron's doing," Edmund replied.
"What happened?" Dumbledore questioned, holding up Harry's unconscious body.
"The power of love, da," Ivan answered.
"Love?" asked Peter, his eyes going hazy.
"Da. A love so deep that it protected little Harry since his birth. The love of a mother da."
"Ah… I want to see mum," Peter whispered into Alistair's chest.
Alistair smiled and ran his hands down Peter's head. "Bide jist a wee longer, laddie," he said. "'En yoo'll be haem wi' us again." Alistair picked up Peter's sleeping body and they excited the chamber.
"Alsitair," Ivan spoke up.
"Aye?"
"… I think Tom was reading little Harry's mind da." Dumbledore's eyes widened.
"And you thin we should investigate, aye?"
"Da. It might just be for the best."
"You keep calling him little Harry," Dumbledore spoke up. "Does that mean that you have a philosopher stone and became an immortal as well, Mr. Stravinsky?"
They stopped walking, Edmund's eyes wide in shock.
"… Sae yoo've bin spoonin' efter aw," Alistair stated blankly. "Weel, doesnae matter. It's yer risk."
"Da," Ivan answered. "I am immortal. And so is Piter and Edmund. Will you be doing anything about that?"
"…No," Dumbledore replied. "As long as none of you step out of line, I will keep your secret and will not do anything. After all, it's bad if this information falls into the wrong hands, and I'm guessing that that is the reason you enrolled into Hogwarts, yes?"
They all agreed to remain silent.
"But you will continue to keep an eye on us," Edmund stated. "… Don't you think you are overworking professor Snape just a little?"
"Honestly, I sometimes think that way too. By the way, do any of you know where my nephew is?"
Alistair laughed as they made their way to the hospital wing.
Over in London, Arthur found himself having a staring contest with the black cat resting on Michelle's lap.
"Arthur, please stop glaring at Lord Eliot," said Michelle. "It's rude."
"Leave already, you stupid Cherisher Cat," Arthur grumbled out. "I won't do anything, damn it."
"Well, I can't be sure of that," said Eliot, getting up. "After all, it's only natural for parents to become protective of their child when said child is in danger."
"Tisk. As if you would know anything about that," Arthur retorted. "If I remember correctly, you sent assassins after one of them and thew another off a cliff. It's no wonder the boys hate you."
"As long as my daughter doesn't," said Eliot, getting up. "I'm fine with it. Besides, they lived, and have become much stronger then before." The cat smiled one last time before disappearing into black shadows highlighted with blue lights, leaving only the raining sound of the gold bell tied with a blue ribbon on his neck.
"Ah. He only did this to escape being questioned by Albus," Arthur stated, sipping his tea.
Michelle smiled down at the pool of water in front of her. "I'm glad Ivan was there with him," she said, looking at the reflected image of a sleeping Peter in Alistair's arms. "If not, he'd be just as worrisome as Alfred, don't you think, dear?" She smiled up at Arthur.
Arthur let out a small laugh and turned his head away. "Hump. Says the one they inherited the recklessness from."
A tick mark appeared on Michelle's forehead. "What's that suppose to mean, jerk?"
Arthur turned back toward her with a smirk. "Exactly just that, love."
Michelle, annoyed, stood up and walked over to stand above Arthur. She placed one hand above the chair and brought up one of her legs to rest on Arthur's. Arthur looked up at her glowing blue eyes, teacup in hand.
"You talk as if I'm the only one who's reckless, Arthur William Kirkland." She pulled out a black and white card from his front pocket and flipped the front of it to face him.
Arthur took one look at the card before smirking back at her, his eyes green eyes turning a few shades darker as he reached behind one of her ribbons and loosened it. But the red ribbon was not the only thing he held in Arthur held in his hand, as he too, flipped the black and white card to face Michelle.
The card in Michelle's hand glowed green while Arthur gave off a sky blue light.
Peter woke up the morning after and went to class as usual. However, Harry stayed asleep for three more days and during those times, rumors spread everywhere and the group was hounded for more information, which Peter and Ivan refrained form saying, as it was not really their place to do so. Though after some persuasions, which even Ivan was impressed by- had they actually know where to hit, he would've given in a long time ago, by the Weasley twins, Peter finally gave in and told them some of what went down in that room. However, and both Ivan and Edmund were glade for this, he refrained from telling them how he and Ivan got out of their chains after Ivan covered his mouth the first time around.
They went everyday to check on Harry and was finally able to talk with him.
"Harry!" Peter, Hermione, and Ron ran into the room, Ivan and Edmund calmly following behind them.
"I'm glad you're alright!" said Peter, flinging himself at the boy only to be held back by Edmund holding onto the hood of his robes. Peter pouted and crossed his arms, dangling in midair. "Why am I always in this position?"
Ivan laughed. "Because you're too much like Alfie, da," he answered.
"Not funny, Ivan."
Ivan laughed again and looked down at Harry. "Feeling better?" he asked.
"Yes," said Harry. "A bit."
"Got that out of the way," said Edmund. "Glad you're okay, Harry."
"Thanks."
"We've heard Peter's version of it all, but not yours, Harry. So what really happened?" asked Ron.
And so, Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. They were a very good audience and Ron looked quite impressed at how crazy his hero was after the tales were told and done.
"So what happened to you two?" said Harry.
"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "Caught up with those two and then we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew - he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor, Alistair right behind him."
"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"
"He probably expected this outcome, he just doesn't know what would happen during the waiting period," said Edmund.
"Well, " Hermione exploded, "if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed."
"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know." Ivan and Edmund looked at each other before looking at Peter, whom they have decided, just for fun, not to tell about Dumbledore knowing about their immortality. "I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..."
"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course - you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you - but the food'll be good."
At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.
The children quickly said their goodbyes and hurried away from the dragoness.
The Great Hall was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing 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 at once. He slipped into a seat between Ron, sitting next to Peter, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.
Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... 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, Gryffindor, with three hundred and fifty-two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and sixty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two."
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was banging his goblet on the table and the four Gryffindors noticed that Edmund, sitting next to Theodore, was trying to hold Ivan's silver pipe under the table. It was a sickening, yet at the same time, an interesting sight.
"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account." The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.
"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...
"First - to Mr. Edmund Pevensie..." The Slytherins turned toward Edmund and wondered what he had done. Some of them had smiles on their faces, but Draco looked doubtful. "For his wit, reasonings, calmness, and helping a classmate in need of assistance and disregarding House rivalries, I award Slytherin 50 points." The Slytherins cheered.
"Second - to Mr. Ivan Stravinsky..." Now this was shocking. "For being responsible and aiding a comrade in arms despite their House differences, I award Slytherin fifty points." Again with the house differences, the students noticed and started cit-chatting among themselves while only clapping this time. the Slytherins now bore a flown on their faces as they glanced toward their two housemates.
"Third - Oh, we seem to have a change of House here," Dumbledore pushed his glasses up. "To Mr. Peter Kirkland for his courage and willingness to help a friend despite the odds against him, I award Gryffindor fifty points." Gryffindor roared to life and people congratulated PEter for his hard work.
"Fourth - to Mr. Ronald Weasley..." Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn. "...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."
Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"
At last there was silence again.
"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected she had burst into tears.
Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred and fifty points up.
"Third - to Mr. Harry Potter..." said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."
The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had five hundred and twenty-two points - exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup - if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point.
Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent. "There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Peter, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. Harry, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration." He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place.
Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile.
"This is the best night ever!" Peer shouted out, celebrating along with the Weasley twins.
When their exam results came, everyone passed and Peter cheered at his results. It seemed that Edmund had come in first place out of all of the first years, Hermione following in second, Draco in third, Ivan in fourth, and Peter is fifth.
And all too suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly. "Does this even apply to us?" Peter whispered to Ivan. "Net," Ivan smiled back and Peter nodded.); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing with each other once more as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.
It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.
"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "all of you - I'll send you an owl."
"Thanks," said Harry, "I'll need something to look forward to."
"I'll probably be too busy with family stuff, but thanks for the invitation da," said Ivan.
"I'll see if I could sneak away," said Peter.
"Why do that when you could just ask?" Edmund questioned.
"You really think he'll say 'yes'?" Edmund was about to answer. "After what you saw and what he promised to do to me this summer?" He closed his mouth upon remembering that.
People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:
"Bye, Harry!"
"See you, Potter!"
"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at him.
"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Harry.
He, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together, Peter, Edmund, and Ivan following after them a few minutes later.
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"
It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron. "Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see-"
"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them. "Busy year?" she said.
"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."
"Oh, it was nothing, dear."
"Ready, are you?" It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.
"You must be Harry's family!" said Mrs. Weasley.
"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked away.
Harry hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione. "See you over the summer, then."
"I'll try to come visit you, Harry," said Peter.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Peter," said Edmund.
"Da, you'll only make it worse," agreed Ivan.
"Thanks, Pete," said Harry.
Peter nodded his head uncertainly. Then his eyes trailed off and found Arthur and Michelle walking up. "Ah-! Gotta go. See you later, everyone."
"Until next year, then," said Edmund.
"Da. Do svidaniya. Take care," said Ivan, and all three walked toward the two guardians.
"That's their guardians?" asked Hermione. "Young, aren't they?"
"But very nicely dressed," observed Harry.
"Must be rich then," Ron commented. "And in a hurry too."
"Will, Ivan did say he had to go back to Russia quickly after this," Harry defended. "Well, I've got to go now."
"Hope you have - er - a good holiday," said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.
"Oh, I will," said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer..." And Harry walked toward his impatient foster family.
"Welcome back, children," greeted Arthur, just as Harry passed them. "Did you have a good time?"
"I had a blast!" exclaimed Peter.
"Da, it was fun," smiled Ivan. "Did you miss us, big Brother?"
"You two yes," Arthur replied. "But you, brat," he turned to Peter, "no. I had a very peaceful time without you around. Less headache and nuisance to deal with."
"He means that he missed you too, Peter," said Michelle. "And by headache, he meant heartache." She hugged the child. "Welcome back, children. I'm glad you're safe." She looked up. "All of you."
"Tisk, damned woman. I did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not!"
Michelle laughed and tried to catch up to Arthur, who started walking off in anger. "And what about you, Edmund?" she asked the child to her right. "Did you have a good time?"
"It was nice, but I…" said Edmund, blushing.
Michelle tried to hide her laughter. "They missed you two," she answered Edmund's unspoken question. "And they can't wait to go up to Scotland this summer. I hope you're really for a good old game of footy."
"What? Seriously? We're doing it?" asked Peter, worried.
"Oh, we're doing it, all right," said Arthur, a gleam in his eyes. "All thanks to the BTT, though it's mostly just Gilbert, Mathias, and Alistair getting drunk while on the job, we are all doing it." Arthur looked down at Peter. "And I hope your ready for the training you'll be having this summer…"
And that's the end of part one!
Next time: More new students and mysteries! Who could they be and what could they be there for? Why does one of the new students seem to make Draco uneasy and what is up with Luna Lovegood? Find out in year two!
And for those who wishes to know more about what happened in the past and the reason Ivan calls Arthur 'Big Brother' and the origin of the debt Gilbert owes to Arthur, follow my newest series, Another Side, Another Story. So far, I've started writing one calledEnigma Insignia.
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