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"Miss Potter," Dumbledore greets. "We'd like to talk to you."

Chapter 16

I swallow nervously in anticipation of the conversation to come. There are several things they could want to talk to me about. Harry looking for the Stone, my exams or something else entirely.

"It came to our attention," Dumbledore says. "That you are aware of the relationship between Minerva and me."

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. I was not expecting this.

"Um…" I start awkwardly. "Y-yes. Sir."

I'm becoming more embarrassed by the second. It's not every day you have to discuss a romantic relationship between your Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress, both of whom are considerably older. Looking at McGonagall I can also detect similar thoughts from her. The couple glance at each other before Dumbledore looks back at me.

"Well, I hope you understand that we're asking you to not say anything to anyone," he says.

I nod.

"Of course Sir. I understand."

He smiles at me a little.

"Thank you."

I manage a small smile in return. There are a few moments of awkward silence before McGonagall clears her throat.

"Right. Well, that's one subject out of the way," she says. "I would also like to apologise for my actions last night. I was harsh and was accusing you of –"

"You don't have to apologise," I interrupt. "You didn't accuse me of anything. You were asking me about a matter I shouldn't have known of in concern for the school. And you had every right to do so. If anything, I should be apologising for interfering."

"Thank you, Isobel," Dumbledore says. "And although their actions might not have been the best, I am grateful towards your three friends. Without them…well, things could have gone quite bad. But maybe for future reference, bring it up with me if you discover something like this again."

I hear the warning in his tone, but the twinkle in his eyes tells me he isn't upset. I nod my understanding.

"On the topic of that," McGonagall suddenly asks. "How is your brother?"

Her tone is casual, but see the worry in her eyes. I remember my dream from last night and the way she had paced up and down the Hospital Wing waiting for Dumbledore to bring Harry back.

"He's still asleep," I answer. "But Madame Pomfrey said he'll be alright."

She nods, looking a little relieved. Again, we descend into a small silence. Then Dumbledore breaks it, albeit a tentatively.

"Isobel," he starts. "The term ends in a few days. As you know, students aren't able to stay at the castle over summer…"

He trails off, but I get the implication.

"We'll have to go back to the Dursleys," I say.

Dumbledore looks at me sadly, nodding his head. Dread fills my stomach as I think of what that means. No doubt they would treat us even worse now that we're confirmed 'freaks.' I try not to let tears enter my eyes.

"I understand," I say, my voice wobbling slightly.

"I have spoken to Mr Dursley, and he and his wife have been warned that if any harm comes to either you or Harry, there will be…consequences. I am very sorry that you have to return there, but I'm afraid nowhere else is able to care for you," Dumbledore says. "If anything happens, anything at all, do not hesitate to owl the school, and it will be dealt with."

I stare at him, disbelieving. The nightmare of the Dursley's is finally over? Without thinking, I rush forward and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly. Gratitude for the Headmaster and everything he's done to help flows through me. A few tears of happiness slide down my cheeks as I pull away.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I'm just…Thank you."

"No one should ever have to go through what you did Isobel. If I were any less of a man, I would have flown to his house in a fury and dealt with him in a way not appropriate the moment I found out what they did to you," Dumbledore states. "I just wish there were another place for you to go."

I smile widely at him, almost able to forget the Dursleys. I turn slightly to face both professors.

"Both of you have done so much for me. I wouldn't have any idea how to repay you. You've been so kind and helpful, and you've taught me so much," I tell them.

"You don't have to repay us, Isobel," McGonagall says. "Just knowing that you and your friends will be safer is enough for us."

I wipe the stray tears off my face, then offer them both another smile.

"There is one more thing though," Dumbledore says.

I look at him curiously.

"When we were heading to the third-floor, you found a short-cut," he continues. "How did you know that was there?"

My smile fades a little as I consider his question. It had been the trail, which had guided me through the castle since my first day. But how do I explain that to him?

"I'm not entirely sure," I start. "Ever since the beginning of the year, whenever I've needed to find someplace within the castle.." I trail off, not knowing how to finish. "A sort of path would light up…"

"Golden?," Dumbledore puts in.

I nod, only slightly surprised he knows what I'm talking about. He seemed pretty sure last night when I told them about the short-cut, so I assume that means Dumbledore saw it as well.

"I'm assuming not all students see it?" I ask.

"You would be correct in that assumption," Dumbledore says. "Even the staff do not see it."

I glance at McGonagall, and she nods slightly to confirm his words.

"How can I see it then?" I ask.

Dumbledore sighs, looking at a lost for words.

"I'm not sure. As far as I was concerned, only Headmasters or Headmistresses could see it."

I stand there awkwardly, not sure what to make of that. Maybe it has something to do with me being 'extremely powerful'? I don't say anything, not sure of what to say. Meanwhile, Dumbledore is staring at a place over my head in thought. I look at McGonagall. She shakes her head a little, indicating to not interrupt him.

"I wonder…" Dumbledore strokes his silvery beard in thought. "Would you mind doing something for me, Isobel?"

Surprised, I nod. He beckons me over to him. Then he directs me over to the wall of his office.

"I know it might seem ridiculous, but could you lay your hand on the wall?" Dumbledore asks.

I stare at him dumbly. Lay my hand on the wall? McGonagall coughs slightly, reminding me not to question him. I do as he says. When my fingertips touch the rough stone, I gasp. Instead of feeling the texture of the wall, it feels like I'm touching a shiver. I draw my hand away in surprise.

"What is that?" I ask.

Dumbledore looks at me with a mixture of confusion and…awe?

"That is the magic of Hogwarts, running through its walls," he says quietly.

My mouth falls open. The magic of Hogwarts?

"How -?" I stutter. "Wha – I don't understand. How can I feel the magic of…Hogwarts?"

"I think, somehow, your magic has tied into the castle," Dumbledore says, looking even more confused.

"How is that possible?" McGonagall asks, looking just as confused.

"I do not know," Dumbledore replies, letting out a frustrated sigh.

I can tell he is annoyed, not knowing something. Dumbledore is a man of knowledge, he told me that at the beginning of the year. Him not understanding what's happened would make him utterly frustrated. In his silence, I start thinking about the night I had the dream where the girls couldn't wake me up. That night, I had asked the professors about the mark on my shoulder, without telling them it was there. Dumbledore said it wasn't a topic to discuss that night. I wondered if I should bring it up now?

"Is there something you want to ask Isobel?" McGonagall asks.

I look at her, surprised.

"You have the look you always get when you're about to ask a question," she explains.

I think about that. It's nice for someone to be able to read my expressions, but it's also a little unsettling that she knows me that well and that it would be hard to keep something from her. I shake that off though and focus back on the question I was going to ask.

"I was just wondering," I start. "That night, when I had the bad nightmare. I asked about that symbol. The triangle and the circle and the line."

Dumbledore draws a breath and McGonagall shifts uncomfortably. They were obviously hoping to avoid this. I frown, more curious than ever to figure out what it is.

"What does it mean? You're acting like it's something as bad as Voldemort."

Dumbledore sighs.

"It's not kind of me to leave you with questions. But that is not something you should be concerning yourself with at this age," he says gently.

Despite his attempts to diffuse my interest, I find myself becoming annoyed.

"I think it is," I say, trying to keep my voice even. "I had a dream about it that involved me. I want to know. Even if it's the scaled-down version, I want an answer."

I realise that despite the familiarity between us, Dumbledore is still the Headmaster and McGonagall a highly respected teacher. And I basically just shouted at them.

"Please," I add, my voice softening a little.

The couple looks at each other. For the first time, I find myself wondering about their relationship. Obviously, I know that they're together. My eyes wander down to where McGonagall's left hand is. I don't see a ring on it, but if they don't want people to know, would she wear one? On her other hand though, I notice a gold band with an emerald set in it on her would-be ring finger. I look at Dumbledore's hands and notice a similar ring on the same finger, only it's set with a sapphire. Maybe they wear them on those hands so people don't ask questions. Thinking about them married makes it easier to come to terms with their relationship. They are still looking at each other, but their expressions keep changing. Dumbledore seems to be frustrated and uncertain, and McGonagall has a determined look on her face. With a start, I realise they must be communicating. I had seen them do it before, but it had only been quick so I didn't think anything of it. But this time they seem to almost be arguing, so it's been a while since either of them spoke. How are they doing it? I've heard of mind-reading in the muggle world. Is it a similar matter in the wizarding world? Whatever it is, I know better than to interrupt, so I wait a little impatiently for them to address me again. Finally, after what seems like forever, Dumbledore sighs then faces me.

"My apologies Isobel," he says.

I bite my lip, not wanting to dissuade him from possibly sharing the information.

"The Deathly Hallows is an old symbol of three highly powerful objects," Dumbledore starts. "It is based off a story in which the character Death gives three brothers one each. For years, there's been speculation as to if these objects are real or not. The reason for this is it is believed that if one possesses all three of the Hallows, they will become the Master of Death."

Dumbledore pauses.

"The Deathly Hallows," I say. "That's what it is. The symbol."

Dumbledore nods. On my shoulder, the mark tingles as if in recognition of its name. I'm tempted to rub it because the sensation is uncomfortable, but I know they will figure out how I know about the symbol. I'm not sure I want them knowing that right now.

"What are the objects?" I ask.

Again, Dumbledore sighs. I know he doesn't want to tell me, but McGonagall gives him a pointed glare. I flash her a grateful look. She smiles the slightest.

"The shapes that make up the Hallows each represent the objects," Dumbledore explains. "The triangle represents the Cloak of Invisibility. The circle, the Resurrection Stone. And the last, the line, the Elder Wand."

As Dumbledore lists them, I feel each shape burn when he says them. I try to shake the lingering feeling of the line when he says the Elder Wand.

"Why are they so special?" I ask.

The Cloak of Invisibility. The Invisibility Cloak. Isn't that what the cloak Harry has is? And the Elder Wand. Admittedly, I don't know anything about it, but surely it's just a wand?

"There is no proof that these three items truly exist," Dumbledore explains. "There are many Invisibility Cloaks known, and there have been stories about an Elder Wand but they are hundreds of years old, so unreliable. And the Resurrection Stone is unheard of. No one that we are aware of knows if they are real or not."

I listen to his every word, determined to understand as much as possible about the mark on my shoulder. While his explanation answers what the symbol is, I still am no closer to knowing why it was emblazoned on me when I was a child. I try to think of a way to ask about it without specifically mentioning it. But Dumbledore beats me to it.

"You said in your dream your brother and yourself were taken," he recalls. "And a ritual was performed. Where did you see the Hallows in the ritual?"

I inwardly curse myself for revealing so much.

"I'm not sure," I try to cover up. "I only saw pieces of what it. One of the images I saw was that. I don't know why though."

I try to keep my face looking confused and my voice small in order to make the lie more convincing. Dumbledore studies me for a minute, but can't seem to fault me.

"Very well," he says. "I suggest you don't think about it too much. After all, it was just a bad dream."

I nod but don't believe him. All of my dreams recently have been of events that I'm sure have occurred. I don't know why or how I saw them, but I know they were all real. McGonagall glances beyond me at the clock on the wall and makes a small sound of surprise.

"By Merlin, it's getting late."

Indeed it had. The clock reads almost ten o'clock. Normally, our lessons would only go for an hour or just over, but our conversation had almost gone for two.

"Minerva's right," Dumbledore says. "You should be heading back to your Common Room, if not your dormitory."

I nod, moving towards the door. Then, on second thought, I turn back to them. I quickly give each of them a hug, then step back.

"Thank you," I say. "For everything. For organising what you did with the Dursleys, for helping me with my magic, for keeping my brother safe. I can't imagine what this year would've been like if not for your help."

McGonagall smiles at me.

"Goodnight Isobel," she says softly.

"Goodnight," Dumbledore says as well.

I smile, then turn back towards the door. I head out of Dumbledore's office and make my way back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione and Ron are still up, so I vaguely tell them what happened. We then make our way to our dormitories, and I collapse onto my bed. It doesn't take me long to fall asleep, and thankfully, my sleep is uninterrupted. The next day, everyone has found out about what happened with the Philosopher's Stone. Luckily, it's Saturday, so we don't have any classes. Everyone comes up to the three of us at breakfast, pestering us about Harry. We do our best to ignore them, and I only answer when Oliver Wood comes up to me.

"Potter!" he calls out.

He lightly pushes the others out of the way to talk to me.

"You better be ready for training in the next ten minutes," he warns.

I look at him, confused. He stares at me.

"Quidditch!" he exclaims. "The match tomorrow? Against Ravenclaw?"

I gasp. Amongst all the drama, I had completely forgotten about the match.

"We're still playing?" I ask.

Wood looks like I've lost my mind.

"Of course we are. It's the last game of the season," he says like it's obvious.

"But we're a player short. Harry's in the Hospital Wing. Even if he wakes up, he'll never be cleared for the game," I point out.

Wood sighs.

"I know. I've got a plan though. Quidditch pitch in ten minutes. You better be there."

With that, he walks off. I look back to the others, an apologetic look on my face.

"It's alright," Ron says. "Wood'll kill you if you don't go. Don't worry, we'll amuse ourselves."

Hermione agrees with a nod and a smile. I thank them again before dashing off to Gryffindor Tower to grab my broom and gear. I make it to the pitch with less than ten seconds to spare, as Wood reminds me. I apologise, then head over to where Angelina, Katie and another girl stands. I look curiously at her before returning my attention to Wood.

"Right, now that we're all here," Wood gives me a pointed glare. "I'll tell you what's happening. Everyone except Potter should know Alicia. Isobel, this is Alicia Spinnet, our reserve Chaser."

He indicates to the new girl, and I give her a small smile. But then what he says reaches my ears.

"Wait, why do we need another Chaser?" I ask.

"Because you'll be playing Seeker as your brother has landed himself in the Hospital Wing," Wood tells me.

I gape at him.

"Seeker?" I exclaim. "I've never played that position though."

"That's what this practice is for," Wood says.

He gives me a look that I interpret as Don't question me.

"This is the best we can do," Wood informs us, talking to the whole team. "If we don't use this play, we'll be down a Seeker. Meaning, we don't have a chance of winning. Alicia has been our reserve before, so she knows our skills and weaknesses. Potter, we've all seen your skills on a broom. You might not be the best, but you'll be better than any of us."

I swallow dryly.

"So basically if we lose it's on me?" I ask. "That's fine."

"No pressure," Fred says.

"Yeah, you'll be fine," George adds.

"But Wood will kill you if we do," Fred says.

I glare at them.

"You're not helping," I tell them.

They try to stifle laughs behind their beater bats.

"Alright," Wood says, clapping to get our attention. "Let's get to it."

It takes me a bit to get used to staying out of the game instead of trying to catch the Quaffle, but eventually, I can pretty much avoid focusing on the game. The first time I spot the snitch, I try and go after it with full speed, but I lose sight of it almost immediately. Each time I spot it, I try a different approach. Each time, I lose it. I almost manage to catch it once, but then the Quaffle flies past me and I get distracted, losing sight of the golden blur.

"Potter!" Wood calls from his spot in front of the goals. "Your job is to keep your eyes on the Snitch. Nothing else."

I let out a frustrated sigh. I don't have the energy to argue with him, so I just nod, resuming my position above the others. A couple of hours later, we're finally able to take a break.

"I want you back here in an hour," Wood tells us. "We still need more practice."

Everyone groans and the twins try and argue with him.

"I don't care about your other 'commitments," he tells them. "If you're not back here in an hour, your off the team next year."

The look he gives us makes it impossible to think he's joking. We trudge back up to the castle, none of us in the mood to talk. I decide to visit Harry in case there's any improvement with him. I meet Ron and Hermione along the way and explain the situation to them as we walk towards the Hospital Wing. When we get there, Madame Pomfrey informs us nothing has changed, but we go in, nonetheless. I sit beside Harry while Ron and Hermione take seats on either side of me.

"You know," I say. "It'd be really helpful if you woke up right now you git," I tell Harry.

Ron smirks a little while Hermione looks baffled. I give them a sideways gin. Unfortunately, Harry does not wake up. My smile falls a little, but I don't let it bother me too much. I soothe his fringe away, looking sadly at the scar on his forehead. For years, we thought it was just a reminder of the accident our parents had supposedly died in. But now we knew it was from Voldemort. I sigh, knowing that this is just the beginning of bad things to happen. Now we knew for sure Voldemort isn't gone, we've got to be on even more alert. I know that eventually, there will be a war to defeat him. And no matter how much I don't like it; Harry is going to be part of it. I had sometimes discussed this with Dumbledore and McGonagall. At first, they were hesitant to discuss the topic with me, but eventually, they realised I needed to know, and that I could handle it. We had discovered that my brain has developed quicker than everyone else's, so I can take in and comprehend knowledge of about a fifteen-year-old. And the magic I am able to perform is equivalent to about a seventh-year. Dumbledore estimates that by the time I'm in my final year at Hogwarts, I will have more knowledge and magic than almost any powerful witch or wizard. The thought at first was daunting, but I know McGonagall and Dumbledore will help train me so I don't over-exhaust myself or cause harm to anyone. I know that I will eventually have to tell Harry, and probably Ron and Hermione as well, but I don't want to put that on them yet. Hermione calling my name pulls me out of my reverie. I blink, looking at her.

"What was that?" I ask.

Ron sighs, but Hermione looks at me funny.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

I shake my head, smiling to reassure her.

"Nothing," I tell her. "I was just lost in my thoughts."

Hermione nods, still looking a bit sceptical.

"I was asking how you think tomorrow's game will be?" Ron repeats.

I let out a humourless laugh.

"Fantastic."

My voice is laced with sarcasm. Ron raises his eyebrows and Hermione gives me a sympathetic look. I sigh.

"Alicia's a good chaser. Really good. But Harry's a much better Seeker than me. I haven't had the time to work out all the technicalities and small points to improve my skills. I mean, Harry had months and months to become as good as he is. And although I'm good on a broom and maybe better than the other people that could be Seeker, I'm still not amazing. I'm sure Ravenclaw's Seeker will be much better than me," I finish bluntly.

"Don't be like that Isobel," Ron defends. "With your skills, I'm betting only Harry would be better than you."

I blush slightly under his complement.

"Thanks, Ron," I say. "I just hope I don't let the team down tomorrow," I add sadly.

"No matter what happens," Hermione says. "Everyone knows you're really good. Maybe not as a Seeker, but definitely as a Chaser.

I'm too impressed that she knows the positions to point out that it could actually very much matter. We stay there talking until I have to go back to the Quidditch pitch. I spend the rest of the afternoon straining my eyes to find the Snitch while getting yelled at by Wood to hurry up. Despite all the complaining and the gradual decline in performance, Wood keeps up on the field until the moon rises. By that time, it's virtually impossible for me to have a chance at finding the Snitch, so Wood reluctantly lets us go. Dripping with sweat, mud and dirt and impossibly tired, we all make our way back to Gryffindor Tower. We get a few looks as we walk through the corridors, but none of us has the effort to care. Even a snide comment from Malfoy falls deaf on my ears. When we go through the portrait hole, everyone looks up from whatever they're doing, a range of looks on their faces. Some people look excited and happy, probably because they think all the practice means we have to win tomorrow. Others, such as Percy Weasley, wrinkle their noses in disgust and ignore us. Ron and Hermione come up to me, but I excuse myself to go shower. Neither of them protests. When I reach my dormitory, I gratefully strip down and step into the shower. I scrub every part of my body to get all the dirt off, then just stand under the cool water to wash my sweat away. Taking longer than strictly necessary, I finally step out to dry myself off and put a fresh set of clothes on. When I'm done, I go back down to where the others are waiting. We talk mindlessly for a bit before it's time for dinner. Afterwards, we complete the small amount of work we have to do before relaxing in front of the fire. We talk about anything to keep our minds off Harry, and mine off Quidditch tomorrow. When it starts getting late, we decide to call it a night and head back to our dormitories. I lie in bed for a while unable to keep my mind off the topics we had avoided. Eventually, though, sleep calls me and I fall asleep to the sound of the girls steady breathing around me.

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