DISCLAIMER: I make no money off this writing, Harry Potter belongs to J. , as well as other affiliates such as Scholastic Books, etc. I claim no ownership over any characters or plot that I have borrowed from the books and movies for this fanfiction.

Hyacinth couldn't believe that Professor Flitwick had just shuffled them out of his office when they had suggested someone was going to try and steal the stone. With a huff she led Hermione and Draco back to the third-floor corridor, much to their protest. "Come on, we proved with the troll that we can handle it. Besides, we can't let someone steal the philosopher's stone. Just think of the consequences! What if it fell into the wrong hands?"

The others had reluctantly agreed and they stepped into the large oak door once more. They heard the soft trilling of a harp, spelled to play itself, sat off to the side of the room.

Draco whispered, "Lumos," and a pale light shone from the tip of his wand. "There. At least now we can see."

Hermione poked Hyacinth in the side, "Look, there's a trap door. A Cerberus will stay asleep as long as there is music, so let's hurry up."

Hyacinth nodded, "Let's go. The three scurried toward the trap door and jumped in, falling a short distance before landing on something soft and squishy. Draco fell right through with a crash, landing on solid stone below them. "Why did only Draco fall through?"

"I don't know, what is this stuff?"

The plant's tendrils wrapped tighter around them, climbing up and up, reaching their torsos now.

Draco shouted up, "It's Devil's Snare! Use your wands!"

The girls nearly slapped their palms to their foreheads. Of course! A duo of whispered, "Lumos!" and they both fell through, landing unceremoniously on their backsides.

Draco helped them both up, Hermione wincing as she stood. "It's nothing, just my ankle."

Hyacinth frowned, "I'm sorry Hermione. I've only read up on the cuts and bruises section of the healing book so far. I can't heal it."

"It's fine. Let's keep going." She had been right, Hermione was a fighter indeed.

Going through a rounded archway the trio heard a fluttering of wings and looked up to find hundreds of winged keys flying around the room at top speed. They eyed the brooms next to a locked door. "Someone's going to have to get the key. The right key."

"You don't think we can just use Alohamora?" Draco frowned.

Hyacinth shook her head, "They probably spelled it so only the key could open it. Otherwise what would be the point? Even us first-years know that spell."

"Well," Draco said, stepping forward, "I've been flying since I was three. I can do this." He mounted a broom and Hermione hissed, "Wait." He looked at her in confusion.

The frizzy-haired girl pointed her wand toward the keys and incanted, "Immobulus. Now, it'll be large, and rather worn. That one, with the broken wing."

"Thanks," Draco pushed off the floor and flew up and up, toward the ceiling, and grasped the frozen key. Settling back down he thrust the key into the lock and turned it, grinning when the door opened and allowed their passage through.

The next room housed a large chess set, with broken pieces strewn everywhere. "Do you think we're still on the third floor? Cause if so this has got to be the biggest floor in all of Hogwarts. This looks like wizards chess, you know."

Hermione bit her lip, "I'm not sure. But it looks like this challenge can only be passed once. Look, the door over there is open."

"Thank Merlin. I've never played chess, let alone wizards chess." Hyacinth moved toward the door.

Draco helped Hermione through to the next room and the trio promptly froze. Ahead of them was a fully grown mountain troll, rubbing its head and moving to stand up. It sniffed the air and turned its head to face them, before abruptly throwing its large club straight toward them. Hyacinth rolled out of the way. Draco pulled Hermione away and fell to the side.

Hyacinth pointed her wand at the troll, "Flipendo!" The troll flew through the air briefly before smacking against the wall behind it with a sickening CRUNCH. It slowly fell to the floor, head lolling to one side, dead.

Hyacinth rushed toward Hermione, "Are you all right?"

The other girl let out a small cry as she tried to stand, "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes wet with held back tears, "I-I think my sprained ankle got hit by the club at the last second as Draco pulled me away."

The blond boy's breathing became shallow, "Is she going to be okay? We can't go back now and let the stone -"

"Her ankle's broken. You take her back, Draco, her safety is more important than anything else. Go to the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey should be able to heal the bone easily, but the more time we waste the worse it'll get. I'll go on, we've got to be close now."

Draco looked hesitant before nodding quickly. He hoisted Hermione on to his back and began to head back, "Be careful, Hyacinth! Don't make me come back to carry you too!"

Hyacinth threw the boy a grin before she moved forward, sending the troll one last look. She didn't feel nearly as bad about killing this troll. It had hurt Hermione. Her grip tightened on her wand, no one hurt her friends.

As she walked through the next door she felt something tickle her as she approached the wooden table in the center of the area. Looking back she saw flames dancing in front of the door. She looked behind the table and saw flames obscuring that door as well. Feet pulling her body forward, she inspected the table before her. She picked up a scrap of paper and read it to herself:

"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 hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,

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 onwards 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"

Hyacinth reread it once more and then glanced at the bottles. The three poisons were all obvious as they all made aesthetic appearances in her potions book, and so the two on their right must have been the nettle wines. That left two bottles, one potion was black, like the flames ahead of her, and one purple, like the flames behind her. She downed the black potion and put the purple one back. This challenge had almost been fun!

She moved through the black flames with a shudder and opened the small door they covered with a creak.

Hyacinth walked into the room and took a breath. Large and spacious, the room was entirely made of stone, the light tan color making her feel as though she were in an Egyptian tomb rather than her school in Scotland. There, in the center of the room, stood Professor Quirrell and a large mirror, the mirror of erised Hyacinth realized.

He turned to look at her.

"Ah, Potter. Surprised to see me here?" The man looked at her with a sneer and Hyacinth heard rather than felt her heart thundering in her chest, which was heaving as she stared into the face of the man that had left her heart and mind warring in conflict all year long. She gulped down any fear she felt, this wasn't Vernon. There were no fat fists, no belt. She had killed a troll in front of him, if anything that should make her feel more confident in her abilities around him.

"Honestly, I wasn't sure if it would be you. For a bit I thought maybe Professor Snape... but that would be absurd. It doesn't matter now. Why do you want the Philosopher's Stone? You're still young, what good is it to you?" Hyacinth's wand slid into her hand, fingers curling around the smooth holly. Ever since Halloween Hyacinth had avoided Professor Quirrell. She had the strange feeling that it was a dark secret between them, that it would bring her nothing good if she were to tell someone. She still didn't trust the man afterwards though, and it seemed her instincts had been right all along.

Quirrell didn't answer her, muttering under his breath instead, quickly, urgently. Was he talking to himself? Hyacinth took another quick look around. No one else was in the room that she could see. She raised her wand, forcing herself to sound calmer than she was, "Professor, please, let's just go back together. We can head back to the main part of the castle and... and I promise I won't tell Dumbledore anything, please."

The man stood facing the mirror, gazing into it. A raspy chuckle filled the room, echoing off the walls and reverberating, sending goosebumps up Hyacinth's legs and arms. "Hyacinth... Potter. Use the girl. Let me speak... to her."

"But master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrell protested weakly, eyes darting from his own reflection to Hyacinth in the mirror distantly.

"I am strong enough... for this." Quirrel began to unwrap his turban and Hyacinth felt her wand arm falling to her side, trembling. As the last fold came undone she found herself searching over a second face, taut skin pulled over the back of Quirrell's skull, red eyes staring straight through her. Her body frozen, she took in the face's mouth, lips and teeth all made out of a sickly stretched skin, pale as the moon from being hidden behind that turban.

"Hyacinth... Potter. It's been too long. Yes, what a... tiny thing. All bones, hm? Come, look into the mirror, girl. Tell me what you see." The voice rasped, fleshy mouth contorting to form the scratchy sound.

Hyacinth shook her head quickly, forcing her wand back into the air. "Voldemort..." she whispered. She thought of what she had seen in the mirror during yule. Her parents... she doubted she would see them now. She didn't dare glance toward the mirror, even from that distance. Something dark was bubbling up in her gut and her eyes were glued to the parasite on her Defense Professor's head. This was the man who had killed her parents, who she had killed all those years ago, as a baby. He hadn't offered the information but she knew. She felt it, an ache deep in her bones, coursing through them like Fiendfyre, and he was right. That's what she was. All bones. All-encompassing rage filled her body, her scar on fire. She wasn't afraid, she was angry!

Voldemort laughed, cold, but Hyacinth didn't waver. He said something about power but she couldn't focus on his words, "Need the stone... power... join..." Quirrell was focused on the mirror, content to let his master speak to her. Hyacinth didn't feel like speaking. She didn't feel like listening. Hyacinth wanted to let the fire out. "Diffindo" she incanted, slashing toward Voldemort's face, his eyes going wide at the sudden attack, unforeseen. The spell hit the back of Quirrell's shoulder instead, causing him to fall to his knees, screaming in pain.

Voldemort grew angry and his mouth spewed brownish-red spittle, "No, no! Get up you fool. Potter, stop-!"

"Diffindo! Incendio!" Her charms flew toward the double man with alarming speed, her severing charm hitting him square in the neck, blood spraying out in a thick mist. His entire body went up in flames and suddenly the room was cold. She was reminded of the troll from Halloween, how she had severed its neck as well, red covering the dusty yellowed stones of the floor. There was less blood this time, but it pooled still, a stream creeping toward her, fleeing the flames.

Hyacinth lowered her wand, sick satisfaction settling inside her and she hated herself. She was happy he was dead, that she killed him. The troll had been let into the castle, probably by Quirrell himself to distract everyone. It wasn't hard to riddle out. Of course, killing a person was different. It felt different, or at least it was supposed to. So why did Hyacinth only feel pleased? Was she a monster like him?

Despite the large fire in a mess on the floor before her, Hyacinth's veins turned to ice as a large shadow wrenched itself from Quirrell's body, tearing away with a scream of pain, turning on her and sweeping past her like the wind.

Hyacinth felt her eyes beginning to fail her and she gripped her wand tightly as she fell to the floor, letting a deep sleep overtake her just as the doors behind her burst open.

Hyacinth woke to a slight weight shifting on to her bed. Her eyes opened groggily as she took in the bright white walls of the hospital wing surrounding her before she slowly sat up. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

He chuckled as he sat with her, "Good morning, Hyacinth." He seemed to be sampling a box of Bertie's Beans and she noticed with confusion the pile of sweets on the table at the end of the cot.

"What happened sir? Hermione and Draco, are they-?"

Dumbledore put a hand up to stop her, "Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy are fine, just fine. Miss Granger's ankle is good as new, or so I'm told. How are you?"

Hyacinth was startled by the question. She felt fine, so she said as much.

Another chuckle, "You're quite resistant, aren't you my girl?"

"Yes, sir. Er, Professor. What happened on the third floor... that is, what happened to Professor Quirrell?"

"Ah, yes, unfortunate I must say. You defended yourself admirably. Professor Quirrell will not be able to harm anyone ever again, nor was he able to make away with the stone." His eyes twinkled softly.

Hyacinth gulped. Did that mean that he... that she... had she killed him? She had certainly meant to stop him, and she had killed the troll, but to kill a person.

Dumbledore seemed to read her thoughts, "No one will blame you, Hyacinth. Professor Quirrell was in the service of a very evil man, and his actions meant to harm you and everyone in this school. Of course, what happened between the two of you was a complete secret, so naturally, the whole school knows. I doubt anyone would fault you for protecting yourself."

Squashing down the dark guilt growing in her belly Hyacinth asked, "What about Voldemort, sir? That was him, wasn't it? That shadow."

The twinkling eyes of the headmaster dimmed, "Yes, my dear girl, I'm sorry to say it was. I would like to think that he also cannot harm anyone anymore, but I would be lying to both you and myself if I were to say that was the case. Lord Voldemort lives on to see another day, a mere shadow creeping across the land for now."

There was a knock on the door and Dumbledore gave her a grandfatherly smile, "I'm sure your friends would like to see you themselves now. Exams have been cancelled so rest as much as you can. If you'll excuse me-"

"Headmaster!" Hyacinth lowered her voice, "I was wondering. Would it be possible for me to stay here this summer? At Hogwarts? It's just my relatives -"

Dumbledore shook his head and cut her off gently, "No, Hyacinth. I'm afraid you must stay at Privet Drive with your relatives over the summer. For your own protection."

Hyacinth looked down at the thin hospital bed sheets, forlorn. Of course. She hadn't expected it would feel this bitter. She forced a smile on to her face as she heard Hermione and Draco run into the room. There was no way she would ever tell them what her place was outside this world. She would die first.