Chapter 11

As Christmas got closer, Malfoy kept getting nastier. He was now making snide comments to the rest of the Houses, rather than just the Gryffindors. It seemed since we beat Slytherin on the Quidditch pitch he was much angrier with us. Every potions lesson was a test to our tempers, and it became increasingly harder to ignore him. After one particular instance, we meet Hagrid as he hauls another Christmas tree into the Great Hall. We talk for a little bit, then head off to the library to look for more information on Nicolas Flamel, despite Hagrid's attempts to dissuade us. Despite our best efforts though, we just couldn't find anything. There seemed to be no record of him. I had considered asking Dumbledore, but then immediately disregarded the idea, because I knew he wanted to keep it secret from us. Unfortunately, Hermione had to go home for the holidays. Obviously, Harry and I were staying, and we were glad when Ron told us he was also staying. After bidding goodbye to Hermione and some other students who were leaving, we returned to the common room which was much emptier than usual. We played games of chess and our dormitories were empty except for us. Of course, the boys didn't give Flamel a second thought, but I visited the library sometimes, trying my best to find something out about the wizard. But to no avail, I couldn't find anything. Finally, Christmas Eve arrived. There was an excited buzz of chatter in the Great Hall that night, and I went to bed dreaming about the feast we would have tomorrow. When I wake the next morning, I am extremely surprised when I see gifts at the end of my bed. Excitedly, I look over them. I decide I can open most of them with Harry and Ron in their dormitories, so I go to gather them up in my arms. But then a letter on the outside of one of the presents catches my attention. It's attached to a small parcel. I pick it up, ripping the envelope off. It's addressed to me in familiar handwriting. Opening it, I read the message in it.

Merry Christmas Isobel!

- Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall

The letter was written by McGonagall, and I smile when I read it. I decide to open their present before I go to the boys. I rip open the wrapping, and gasp as a gold necklace falls out. Upon closer inspection, I realise it's a locket. I carefully pry apart the two sides and smile when I see a beautiful couple smiling at me. Unlike the magical portraits I'd become accustomed to seeing, this photo was taken on a muggle camera, so the image is still. I study the image. The woman has long red hair and a beautiful face with bright green eyes, and the man has messy black hair and hazel eyes, which were slightly covered by his glasses. Suddenly, I realise who they are. My parents. The similarity between Harry and our father, even though our father was much older, is astounding. Looking at our mother, I can also see where we got our eyes from. I push my hair away and clasp the chain around my neck. I hold the locket for a few seconds before letting it go and quickly getting dressed. I then gather up the rest of my presents once again and head over to the boy's dormitory where I see them just stirring.

"Merry Christmas!" I greet cheerily.

I plonk myself down on the edge of Harry's bed, separating our presents slightly.

"Merry Christmas!" the greet back groggily.

When Harry sees the presents, his eyes light up.

"We got presents?" he asks.

I nod, smiling. At the Dursleys, we never got presents. Instead, Dudley would get three times the regular amount. Neither of us was expecting any this year, so to see some is very rewarding. We all dug into our presents, excited to see what we got. We ended up with a present each from Hagrid – a wooden flute for Harry and a small book on Magical Creatures for me – a fifty-pence piece from the Dursleys which we gave to Ron, matching emerald green sweaters from Mrs Weasley with an H on Harry's and an I on mine and fudge, and Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. Harry also got another present, which Ron told us was an invisibility cloak. The note wasn't signed, so whoever gave it to him wanted to remain unknown. I had a suspicion though, which was confirmed when I read the note. I recognise Dumbledore's handwriting saying the cloak had been left in his possession the night our father died. I don't say anything, respecting Dumbledore's wishes to remain unnamed. I show Harry my locket, saying the same person who'd given him the cloak gave me it. Still the truth, just not all of it. Suddenly, the doors to the dormitory burst open and George and Fred Weasley enter the room.

"Hey look, you two have Weasley jumpers too," George says.

They had matching blue ones on, with an F and a G on them respectively.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," Fred says. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

I giggle a little at his tone of voice.

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demands. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

Ron complains about hating maroon but pulls it on anyway. George observes that Ron hasn't got a letter on his.

"I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid – we know we're called Gred and Forge."

I laugh as Percy's voice comes from the doorway. He's carrying his own jumper over his arm which the twins force over his head. He glares at them as he fixes his glasses. When we enter the Great Hall, I am amazed by the amount of food on the tables. We all sit together at the Gryffindor table and talk merrily amongst ourselves. George and I pull a wizard cracker which explodes in a green puff of smoke and emits several Christmas beetles. Laughing, I look up to the Head Table and smile at Dumbledore who is wearing a flowery bonnet instead on his wizard's hat. Next to him is McGonagall who I also smile at. I finger my new locket and mouth thank you to them. I don't know if they understand what I said, but they nod, guessing by my gesture. Returning to my meal I am consumed in the festiveness. The rest of the day turns out to be by far the best Christmas I've ever had. I go to bed smiling, thinking of all the joys the day brought me. I fall into an almost immediate sleep. Unfortunately, it is not all dreamless.

I'm in a familiar room, surrounded by wooden bars. In a crib, I realise. The room is dark, and it takes my eyes to adjust. I'm looking up at the roof, so I know I'm looking through my baby eyes. Suddenly, I hear a disturbance outside the room. Suddenly my vision changes so I'm now standing in the middle of the room, able to look down upon myself. Next to my own crib, is another, and I don't bother looking in it because I know it's Harry. I'm in a bedroom, and two figures are sleeping in a bed not far from the crib. I can't move though to see their faces, but I know it's my parents. Then I hear the disturbance again. In the crib, I roll over but do not wake. I try to shout out, sensing something is about to go wrong. But I can't make any sound. I'm forced to wait. Not long passes before the door is blasted open and several people in masks run inside, shouting curses. My parents in the bed wake up, immediately jumping out of their bed. Not even using their wands, they send two of the figures flying. They go to turn on the last one, but he's already gone. I look back towards the cribs and gasp as I realise they are empty. The last thing I hear before my dream changes is my mother scream for her children.

When I come to myself, I am in an even darker room. Similar masked figures stand around a figure, all with their wands out. As I move closer, I have to blink several times to register it's myself, as a baby. I realise that this must be where they took me from the room. Looking around, Harry is nowhere to be seen. They must have done something to me because I was out cold. I'm sure in that situation I should have been crying my lungs out. Then, a woman with pale skin and a mess of black curly hair came up to baby-Isobel. She crouched down, laughing maniacally as she stared down at the sleeping child. I wanted to go over and punch her right there, but I couldn't. I watch with bated breath for them to do something. Then the scene changed again.

We were in the same room, but a ring had been formed by candles, with my baby form placed in the centre. I anxiously look on, wanting to know what they were going to do to me. Around the candles, several figures stood, all looking straight ahead, grasping their wands. Around me, two figures kneeled. I recognised the black-haired woman, but opposite her was a man, even paler than her. He had long spider-like fingers which grasped a white wand. His face looked snake-like, and his eyes were red. Realisation dawned on me, sending shivers down my spine. This was Lord Voldemort, the man who killed my parents. Suddenly, there was a baby's cry. But looking down at myself, I noticed it was not from me. Without looking up, the woman spoke.

"Shut the other one up," she hissed.

I look around, finally noticing my brother. He was situated outside of the ring, and with a flick of his wand, one of the figures silenced him. I breathe a sigh of relief to know he wasn't in direct danger. Then I return my focus to myself. My clothes had been removed, so my small body lay naked. I noticed that my collarbone was bare. Then it dawned on me. This must be how I got the symbol. Suddenly the figures started chanting in a foreign language. Voldemort and the woman laid their hands on the baby, and I shivered. The smoke from the candles started swirling, making their way towards the centre. As a baby, I shifted, unable to do anything else. Without warning, the smoke then flew towards my left shoulder. A cry escaped both my forms as a sudden burning filled my shoulder. Grasping at my shirt, I pull it down to look at the burning symbol. It was glowing green and black, and the sensation sends pain all down my arm. Tears prick my eyes as I try to hold back a sob. Forcing my eyes back to my dream, I see Voldemort bent low over the baby, murmuring something. Suddenly, the chanting stopped as light filled the room. But it didn't come from the ritual. New people started filling the room, wands blazing. In an instant, Voldemort disappeared while the woman stood up to fight. The smoke stopped burning at my shoulder, but the damage had been done. Then suddenly someone was shaking me, and I woke up.

Gasping, I sat up in my bed. Over me, Professor McGonagall stands, looking down at me worriedly.

"Miss Potter, are you okay?" she asks.

I blink, my hand moving to my shoulder where the symbol is still burning. Looking around, I realise the rest of the girls in my dormitory are awake, and Lavender Brown is standing slightly behind McGonagall. Looking back to the Deputy Headmistress, I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"What happened?" I ask her.

McGonagall POV

Albus and I had just retired to bed after he informed me of what Harry had found in one of the empty classrooms when he startled. I sat up beside him, looking at him curiously.

"What's wrong Albus?" I softly ask.

"Someone's trying to get past the gargoyle," he replied. "I don't know who," he added at my silent inquiry.

Sighing, we get out of bed, summoning our robes so as not to cause any questions as to why I'm in Albus' office. Walking out of the private room, I followed Albus down the stairs, and out the office door. The stone gargoyle springs open for us, and Albus almost runs into one of the young Gryffindors, Lavender Brown. Startled, she almost loses her balance. Albus reaches out to steady her though before she can fall. A second later, an explanation leaves her mouth.

"Professors, it's Isobel. She's screaming in her sleep and we can't wake her. The Hospital wing is closed and we didn't know what else to do."

Worry strikes my heart at the mention of the young girl. Glancing at Albus, I see a similar emotion on his face.

"Minerva," he instructs. "Return to Gryffindor Tower with Miss Brown while I summon Madame Pomfrey. We will meet you there."

I nod in understanding. Without wasting a second, Lavender starts off again and quickly follow her. We don't speak as we enter through the portrait hole. Quickly, we make our way up to the first-years girl's dormitory. As we fly up the stairs, I see some students awake, looking out to see what's going on. My worry increases when I realise they must've been woken by Isobel's screams. Stopping briefly, I reprimand them.

"Go back to sleep students," I bark.

When we reach the dormitory, I see the other girls already awake. Lavender leads me over to Isobel's bed and moves out of my way. The girl is shaking slightly and sweat glistens on her forehead. Her hands twitch occasionally, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I realise she isn't screaming anymore. Carefully, I shake the girl. She doesn't stir, so I shake her a little harder.

"Miss Potter," I call. "Isobel!"

Finally, she wakes up. She quickly sits up, and I move back slightly. I look down at her with worry.

"Miss Potter," I ask, trying to steady my voice. "Are you alright?"

Her hand moves to her shoulder, where she seems to be in pain. I frown. Isobel looks around, taking in her surroundings. When she looks back to me, confusion is evident on her face.

"What happened?" she asks.

I purse my lips, about to tell her, when suddenly, Poppy bursts through the doors. Gently, she pushes me aside to inspect Isobel. Seeing her hand over her shoulder, Poppy immediately goes to look. Isobel pulls away though, pressing her hand even harder against herself.

"What happened?" she repeats, looking past Poppy to me.

I move to the other side of her bed to easily see her.

"Miss Brown said you were screaming in your sleep, and they were unable to wake you," I inform her. "What's wrong with your shoulder?" I gently ask her.

"Nothing," she replies straight away. "It just hurts a little from Quidditch practise the other day. But it's nothing bad."

I study her face, not quite believing her. Choosing not to push it though, I nod slightly.

"Would you like to tell us what happened?" I push.

"I'm not sure," Isobel says. "I just had a bad dream. That's all."

Again, I don't quite believe her. But looking around, I realise all the girl's eyes are on Isobel.

"Would you come down to the Common Room please?" I suggest.

She looks at me gratefully, nodding. With a little help from Poppy, she climbs out of bed. Then taking the lead, she exits the room. I turn back to face the other students.

"Please try to get back to sleep, we will sort everything out," I reassure them.

Without waiting for a reply, I exit the room, quickly catching up to Poppy and Isobel. We make our way to the scarlet common room, where Albus is waiting. Upon seeing us, he lets out an almost unnoticeable sigh of relief.

"Miss Potter," he says. "Are you alright?"

Isobel nods, looking a little uncomfortable. Poppy leads her to one of the couches, instructing her to stay still while she performs diagnostic spells. Albus takes my arms and leads me slightly out of hearing range.

"What happened?" he asks quietly.

Looking into his sapphire-blue orbs, I see worry pooling in them. Just as I was, he was concerned for the young girl who had recently become such a large part of our lives.

"She had a bad dream," I reply, just as quietly. "She claims she's alright, but she was grasping her left shoulder in pain."

My husband frowns, his worry increasing. Glancing at Poppy and Isobel, I make sure they're not watching. Then I discretely lay my hand on his arm in a calming gesture.

"I'm sure she's alright Albus, she just had a nightmare."

He calms a little, and unfortunately, I pull my hand away so the other two don't notice. I smile a little at him, before walking back to the pair. Poppy looks a little worried while Isobel looks a mixture of annoyed, embarrassed and confused.

"Is everything alright?" I inquire.

Isobel snaps her head up to look at me. Poppy frowns a little before answering.

"I can't find anything wrong, despite the discomfort in her shoulder," she says, eyeing Isobel's left shoulder.

Isobel shifts a little under her gaze.

"I told you," she said. "I'm alright, the pain in my shoulder is just from Quidditch. I had a bit of a fall."

I highly doubt that considering the skills I saw from her during the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. But she seems insistent, so I decide not to press it.

"Right," Albus says, also coming to a similar conclusion. "As long as you're alright, Isobel, you can head back to sleep Poppy."

The matron nods a little.

"Sorry for disturbing you," Isobel apologises.

Poppy smiles.

"Don't worry," she says warmly. "As long as you're okay?"

Isobel nods. Poppy then leaves through the portrait hole. I make sure it's properly closed before talking.

"Isobel," I say. "What's wrong with your shoulder?"

I give her a firm look, so she knows she can't lie.

"It's okay now, really," she sighs. "It was just a bit of phantom pain. It got hurt during my nightmare."

I study her, looking for any signs of dishonesty. Finding none, I sit down beside her on the couch. Albus does the same, taking up the space beside her. I gently take her hand while Albus shifts a little so she can lean on him slightly.

"Do you want to share what your nightmare was about?" I softly ask.

Isobel bites her lip, obviously indecisive.

"It's alright if you don't," Albus adds. "Only if you want to."

Isobel nods. Then suddenly she launches into a description of her nightmare.

"It was something from when I was a baby," she starts. "When…when my parents were still alive."

She trails off sadly. Guiltily, I think back to what Albus told me. Harry had found the Mirror of Erised earlier tonight, and I had almost no doubt he had seen Lily and James. While Isobel had the picture in her locket, I knew it wouldn't be the same as what Harry had seen. Oblivious to my thoughts though, Isobel carries on.

"There was an attack on the house, and Harry and I were taken. Whoever took us performed a sort of ritual. I saw something."

I look down at her, seeing something flicker in her eyes. Then she gets up and finds a sheet of paper and a quill. She settles down back between us but leaning on one of the tables this time. Albus and I shift a little to watch her. Silently, she draws something. Her hand covers the drawing, so I don't see it at first. But when she draws away, I gasp. There, on the sheet of paper, Isobel had drawn the Deathly Hallows. On her other side, Albus takes a deep breath.

"Where did you see this Isobel?" he asks, his voice shaking slightly.

Isobel looks curiously up at him before answering.

"I'm not sure Professor," she replied. "What does it mean?"

"That is not something that should be discussed tonight," Albus answers. "For now, you should try and get back to sleep."

At this, Isobel looks slightly frightened. I softly grasp her hand again.

"Don't worry," I say reassuringly.

Wordlessly, I cast a charm over her that will keep any dreams or nightmares at bay.

"There, you won't have any more nightmares tonight," I smile.

She returns the gesture slightly. I stand, indicating for Isobel to do the same. I quickly give her a hug, before sending her back to her dormitory. Once she's out of sight, I turn back to Albus.

"She shouldn't have seen that symbol," he states.

I nod.

"That wasn't a regular nightmare," I agree grimly.

Silently, we exit Gryffindor Tower and make our way back to our private quarters. As we once again change into our night clothes, Albus gathers me in his arms. I rest my head on his chest, relishing in the warmth and safety the feeling of being in his embrace provides me with. We lay awake, each left to our own thoughts. Eventually, though, Albus falls asleep. But I stay staring at the dark ceiling. During the past few weeks, spending time with Isobel during her lessons, my heart had opened up to the young girl. I now care about her in an almost motherly way. I tried to decide whether that was good or not but couldn't find a conclusion. I sighed, shifting slightly in Albus' arms. Slowly, my thoughts faded away and the pull of sleep dragged me into unconsciousness.

Isobel's POV

Once I reassure the girls that I'm okay, I collapse back onto my bed. I crawl under the covers, confident whatever spell McGonagall cast on me would keep the nightmares away. But I still couldn't get back to sleep. The images from my vision kept seeping back into my mind. I hadn't mentioned to Dumbledore and McGonagall anything about Voldemort, fearing they would worry too much about it. I also didn't mention anything about the symbol I drew being engraved on my shoulder. When Dumbledore saw the symbol, I saw recognition in his eyes. He knows what it is, and what it means, but for some reason, he wouldn't tell me. I felt a little closure in knowing how I had gotten the 'scar' but all it mostly did was just open more unanswered questions. Frustrated, I rolled into a more comfortable position, pulling the bed covers underneath my chin. I fell asleep with hundreds of thoughts scrolling through my mind.