Mary saw a bright light at the end of the hallway. She flattened herself against her Nimbus Two Thousand and pushed the broom to go faster. She needed to stop Quirrell from getting the Philosopher's Stone! Or…did she need to get away so that he couldn't use her to get the Philosopher's Stone? Too late to change course, the light was pulling her closer, and it was getting blindingly bright. She shielded her face as she crashed through…
Mary opened her eyes and sat bolt upright.
Quirrell! The Stone! She needed to tell somebody! She jumped to her feet and was pulled back by an invisible tether.
"NO!" she cried, fighting for freedom.
The more she fought, the more entangled she became. But there was no time to waste! She needed to get away!
A commanding voice began issuing orders, and Mary saw that it belonged to Madam Pomfrey. The healer stood and watched her patient from a safe distance until the girl calmed down. Mary was hyperventilating.
"Slow breaths, Mary," Madam Pomfrey instructed. "In through your nose…there, you've got it. And again…"
Still coiled for escape, watching for any hints of betrayal, Mary did as this familiar witch told her, and she steadily relaxed. When she came to her senses, she looked around and saw that the hospital bedding was wrapped around her many times, and she'd even tangled an arm in one of the privacy curtains.
"First, I'm going to remove the tethering charm," said Madam Pomfrey, still keeping a respectful distance. "You will feel the flat sheet tighten around your right leg when it releases, as you've wound it around yourself twice."
Mary made sense of these words and nodded her ascent.
"If you would like, I can also hold onto this curtain so it can't pull you out of bed."
Again, Mary nodded.
"I'm going to take hold of the privacy curtain," said Madam Pomfrey, gathering the fabric in one hand, "and now I'll remove the tether."
With a flick of her wand, the charm broke and Mary sank into the mattress. Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtain towards Mary and she slipped her arm out.
"Now, may I help you with the rest of these restraints?"
Once Mary was free, Madam Pomfrey handed her a large mug of water. As she drank, Mary remembered that her hands had been badly burned. Not breaking for air, she stared at her free hand.
"Yes, they were in awful condition when you arrived," said Madam Pomfrey. "You were burned up to your elbows, and that only accounts for the damage we could see."
Mary handed the empty mug back to the healer and inspected her arms, twisting them every which way to find evidence of her ordeal. Not one mark, and they were perfectly smooth. As she ran a finger over her forearm, Madam Pomfrey said, "It will take a few days for your hair to grow back. Your arms should be itchy by tomorrow."
"How long have I been in here?" Mary rasped, voice raking her throat like sandpaper. She cringed back and Madam Pomfrey handed her another liquid.
"Three days. You inhaled some poisonous fumes. Your lungs are clean, but even magic can't rush some of the healing that your body is better equipped to handle."
Mary sipped what tasted like a sort of tea, but thicker. Her throat stopped stinging, and her body released the last of its tension.
"What's in this?" she asked.
"You'll need to be in your fifth year and taking Advanced Herbology before you learn about this brew."
Mary suspected that a couple of third years were already wise to this concoction.
"You may rest some more," said Madam Pomfrey, "or Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you, now."
"Yes, please!" Mary said, straightening up.
The healer pursed her lips and gestured with one hand. She gave the Headmaster a warning glare and stepped away. Mary watched her go, and her eyes fell on a table piled high with candy and various curiosities, including what appeared to be a plush recreation of a Cerberus.
"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore explained.
Mary shook her head. "At least half the school hates me."
"What happened between you and Professor Quirrell in the dungeons is a complete secret, so naturally, the whole school knows. You've really impressed your peers."
He gave Mary a moment to comprehend his words.
"Misters Fred and George Weasley thought a toilet seat would amuse you, but Madam Pomfrey confiscated it on the basis of hygienic concerns."
Mary smiled and pulled the Cerberus into her lap. "Professor, what did happen? What happened to the Stone? Is it safe?"
Dumbledore sighed. "The Stone is safe. After you fell through the trapdoor, your friends ran for help. Several professors and I were unfortunately in a conference with very powerful dignitaries, so it took Ms Granger far too long to get through to us. Mr Longbottom ran for Hagrid, so he and Professor Kettleburn were able to heal Fluffy. They were both impressed by your fortitude in protecting the puppy."
"Puppy," Mary repeated, flatly.
"Yes, he's only one year old, this summer."
Mary stared at him, failing to reconcile her idea of a puppy with a creature that could swallow her whole.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. "Ms Granger impressed our guests. She broke through enough of our warding charms to get our attention, and I arrived just in time to separate you from Quirrell before you collapsed. I feared I might have been too late."
"You nearly were!" Mary cried. "I kept the Stone from him as long as I could–"
"Dear girl," Dumbledore interrupted, "not the Stone. The effort it took you to hold Quirrell off nearly killed you. We secured the Stone, and it is going to be destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Mary asked. "But what about your friend, Nicolas Flamel?"
"Oh, you know about Nicolas, do you?" Dumbledore said, beaming.
"Hermione does," Mary said with a blush. "I read about him on your chocolate frog card."
"Truly my greatest achievement," said Dumbledore, solemnly.
"But why destroy the Stone when there's so much it can do?"
"As your ordeal has demonstrated, it has become more of a burden than a blessing."
"But he and his wife…they're going to die, aren't they?"
"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."
Dumbledore smiled over Mary's sorrow and said, "I will be sad to lose my friends, but to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You, on the other hand, are only beginning yours, and I dare say it's been more eventful than anyone could have bargained for."
Mary hugged the stuffed animal and said, "He tried to offer me power. How could anyone accept him after everything he's done?"
"Desperation breeds desperate measures," said Dumbledore.
"But he's barely alive, and Quirrell couldn't even touch me." Mary didn't want to think about that, but she needed to know, "Why couldn't he touch me without getting burned?"
"Ah, that. When your parents died protecting you, they cast one of the most powerful protection spells known to the magical world. Their love left a mark in your very skin, so that someone as corrupt as Quirrell, sharing his very soul with Voldemort, could not touch you without ultimately risking his own demise."
"You use his name," Mary observed with a flinch.
"Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."
Mary turned this over in her mind and asked, "He isn't gone, yet, is he? He'll try to come back again?"
Dumbledore gave her a sad smile. "I'm afraid so. As he is not truly alive, he cannot be killed. You may have only delayed his return, but while he shows just as little mercy to followers as he does his enemies, our interference may ultimately prevent his return to power."
"And he'll never be able to use the Stone."
"Precisely."
"Professor, how did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"
Dumbledore preened and said, "I'm glad you ask. It was one of my more brilliant ideas. Only someone who wanted to find the Stone, but not use it, would be able to retrieve it."
"I almost ruined everything," Mary admitted. "I wanted to show him that I didn't need it, and it dropped into my pocket." She scrubbed her hands over her face. "I was only down there because I was angry that Quirrell hurt Fluffy. I tried to fly back through the trapdoor when I found the broomstick, and the vines stopped me."
"From now on, you will remember that Devil's Snare is heliophobic. Casting the Lumos charm would have made it shrink away from you."
Mary threw herself back into her pillow and groaned. "I did know that! Professor Sprout should fail me."
"And how would that help you learn?" Dumbledore asked, gently. "Now, I recommend you make a start on these treats."
To appease him, Mary selected Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She popped a green one into her mouth – chocolate peppermint – and held the bag up to Dumbledore.
"I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them — but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" He selected and bit into a golden-brown and coughed. "Alas! Ear wax!"
Hermione and Ron were relentless in begging to see Mary. Madam Pomfrey acquiesced only when Hedwig flew into the hospital wing and settled on Mary's chest for a nap.
"Mary!" they cried, and tempered their enthusiasm when Hedwig fluffed and hissed. They pulled up a couple of chairs and asked for the true story. The school had its own version, including a theory that Mary had known about the Philosopher's Stone from the beginning and tried to somehow save it.
"How would that even work?" Mary asked. "It was safe where it was, and I only got it on accident. He could have taken it from me if touching my skin didn't hurt him."
Mary told them all about her parents' protection spell, and how she used it to prevent Quirrell from taking the Stone. As she finished that part of the story, Mary felt dizzy as the realization broke through.
"I killed someone," she breathed.
"You were protecting the Stone," said Ron. "You didn't…know that's what would happen."
Mary's mouth went dry, and she admitted, "I didn't really care. I just knew I needed to stop him, and it didn't matter how."
"The school has decided that Quirrell turned to dust by touching you, even if they don't know why it happened," said Hermione. She looked away and said, "If I've learned anything from History of Magic, this year, it's that records can be influenced by those who tell the story."
"Exactly!" Ron cried.
"So what happened to you and Neville, Hermione? Dumbledore told me that you broke through warding charms."
"Well," said Hermione, raising her chin, "they were only privacy charms. One of them was the baffle, so that hardly counted. Malfoy's father was in that conference, so that was interesting, but so were important people – like Kingsley Shacklebolt!"
Ron smiled, but Mary didn't know who that was. "Shacklebolt?"
"Full name: Darius Omar Kingsley Shacklebolt," said Ron, reverently. "His great grandmother had a flare for irony, so when she came to England – by her own choice! – she chose a surname that would make a point. She had a thousand reasons to hate the Secrecy Act, and she made sure everyone knew it."
"Do you have any idea what the meeting was about? " Mary asked.
Ron looked to Hermione, who said, "I couldn't hear anything. When Professor McGonagall saw me, she called for a recess. When we got back to the trapdoor, Neville already had Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn there to help Fluffy. Hagrid saw the pan flute and knew it was Quirrell, and he thinks Quirrell must have been the one who gave him Norbert. He said he needs to have a lot of conversations with the staff to figure out the extent of Quirrell's design on that egg."
Mary suddenly felt exhausted. She ran her fingers through Hedwig's feathers, trying to process everything they'd told her. She was so tired of being in bed, but she would need to sleep on this information before her brain would accept it. And speaking of things her brain couldn't accept…
"Did you guys know that Fluffy is still a puppy?"
Mary slept for a few hours and awoke in time for supper. She shared scraps with Hedwig, and Madam Pomfrey led another visitor in. She didn't seem pleased with all the activity, but Mary was happy to see him.
"Hello, Hagrid!"
"You're certainly looking a lot better than ya did yesterday," said Hagrid, thickly.
"I'm fine," Mary promised. "See? Not a mark."
Hagrid shook his head. "I never should have sat down to that table. Should've known it was trouble as soon as I saw the egg."
"But now you have Norbert," said Mary.
Hagrid shook his head, again. "It's stuff like this that got me into trouble back in my studious days. Always finding creatures that I shouldn't have been bringing into the school, even if – but that doesn't matter. Someone got hurt, and I got my wand snapped in my third year."
Mary's jaw dropped. "How could they just–"
"It was a different time, and Dumbledore wasn't Headmaster," said Hagrid. "He found an apprenticeship for me, and I'm happy with my lot in life. In some ways, it's a lot more than I deserve.'
"I don't believe that," Mary snapped, and slapped a hand over her mouth. "I mean – no, it doesn't seem right."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence. Now, before Madam Pomfrey throws me out, I have a present to add to your hoard."
He handed Mary what appeared to be a leather-bound book. She was far too fatigued for reading, but she politely lifted the cover to show appreciation for the thought. It was full of magical photographs of a couple, smiling and waving to her from every page. Some pictures included more people, and these held labels and notes to tell the story behind the image.
"I sent owls to all your parents' old school friends, askin' for photos. They all answered quickly, but it took a couple of months to compile. There's a contact page in the back, if you want to reach out to any of them."
"Thank you," Mary whispered.
Hagrid gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and Madam Pomfrey decided his visit had gone on long enough. She took Mary's empty dishes and drew the privacy curtain.
The album told a story. Older photos showed her parents at Hogwarts among their own friends. Mary laughed when one picture showed her father with three other boys, and her mother nearby in the background. She was looking in their direction, and she did not seem to like them. A later photo showed her mother wearing the red and gold shawl! A message explained that it had been made by Lily's mother, out of yarn spun by her father. She suddenly and very badly wanted to hold the treasure, but told herself that it would still be in her trunk when she needed it.
What must have been hours later, Mary only put the photo album down when Madam Pomfrey dimmed the lights. Heart full, she curled herself around the stuffed Fluffy and fell into pleasant dreams of her parents as they might have been.
"I'm feeling better," Mary told Madam Pomfrey, standing next to the bed, arms outstretched. "Nothing hurts and I don't feel dizzy, anymore."
The nurse completed her assessment and gave Mary a clean bill of health. "If anything feels off, anything at all, you come right back here!" she said with a severe wave of her finger.
Mary held up one hand, crossed her heart with the other, then beat a hasty retreat. Her first stop was the dormitories to stow her gifts away. Anything edible, she could share with her classmates, but everything else required a reworking of her trunk. She pulled everything out and began tightly packing fabric items. This included the invisibility cloak and baby blanket, but she wanted to keep the shawl out, even if it was too warm to wear. Maybe she could find a cooling charm.
Next, she organized her textbooks, now that classes were over. The past week was spent leisurely by Hogwarts students, as written exams were graded and larger projects were assessed. Mary was sad that she had missed it. Furthermore, the Gryffindor match with Ravenclaw was a bust, as they didn't have enough time to train a secondary Seeker. They'd found a fifth year Gryffindor who frequently played pickup games back home, but it wasn't the same as competing with a team.
"He did his best," said George, sitting with Fred in the middle of their crowd in the courtyard. "And for someone who'd never competed before, he wasn't half-bad."
Fred made an indecisive sound in his throat and quietly said, "Maybe half-bad, but we won't hold it against him."
"I thought Oliver was going to cry," said Ron. "It was awful."
"Why don't you play Seeker, then?" Hermione huffed.
"I didn't say he was terrible! I just meant that the match made Oliver want to cry!"
Of course Oliver happened by just then, and hit Ron squarely in the back of the head with a wadded up piece of parchment.
"I can't wait to get home," he muttered, glaring at Oliver's retreating back.
Mary's eyes went wide.
"Fred, George," she said in a low tone. "You remember when you enchanted those snowballs to hit the back of Quirrell's head?"
"And served a bunch of detention for it," said Fred, "as though half the faculty didn't want to do the same."
She scooted closer to them and told them about Quirrell's nigh-demonic possession. The twin's shared a shocked expression and reacted the only way they knew how: doubling over with laughter.
The following day ushered in the end-of-year feast. Mild hostilities resurfaced as students observed the Great Hall bedecked in Slytherin colors, but most remembered that someone might have been trying to kill Mary when she and her friends lost all those points. Percy sat next to her at the Gryffindor table, and Gemma watched her back from Slytherin's. When the feast began, a Ravenclaw attempted to launch a bread roll at Mary, but it shot back at the student and exploded into a messy radius of crumbs. Several students cried out in dismay, and their Prefect had to sit with them to prevent internal mutiny. Gemma shot Percy her conspiratorial smile, and he nodded back in appreciation.
With stomachs full, Professor Dumbledore awarded the House Cup to Professor Snape, and the assembly gave a round of half-hearted applause. Mary's appetite disappeared when dinner was cleared and desserts filled the table. Would it be rude of her to leave and continue packing? Most everything was ready to go, but she was missing a pair of socks, she was sure someone still had one of her quills, despite weeks of looking, she couldn't find Hagrid's owl whistle, and they would all be leaving tomorrow.
Something dropped around Mary's neck and knocked against her sternum. As though conjured by her thoughts, the wooden whistle was suspended from a thin leather cord. Mary looked down at it in confusion, and Percy said, "Fred and George found that while getting into who-knows-what. They thought you might want it tethered, so they were careful threading it."
She handed the whistle to Ron and Hermione for inspection. Hermione was impressed while Ron grumbled about his brothers having too many talents for anyone's good.
"It worked out, this time," said Hermione. "The whistle will be useful if we keep working with Fang, next term."
Ron shuddered. "I'll take dragons over a slobbering monster like him."
"Wait, is that all?" Mary laughed. "All this time, I thought you were afraid of dogs, and all you hate is his slobbering?"
"It's gross! It gets everywhere, you can't clean it off, and you can't get away from it!"
"I think you're confusing dog slime with fur."
"No," Ron insisted. "Fur is fine. It might cover stuff, but slobber sinks into everything!"
He visibly gagged and said, "I can't keep talking about this. Can we change the subject?"
Final report cards were handed out the next morning, as students did one final check around their dormitories and finished packing their luggage. Mary was relieved to see documented evidence that she did, in fact, pass Potions – a sentiment strongly shared by Neville. Ron grumbled about his History of Magic grade, and Hermione passed everything with the highest marks. She glanced nervously around at her peers, but they all congratulated her.
"I'm going to study more on Transfiguration, this summer," said Lavender. "I've seen what we'll be doing next year, and I want to be ready."
Hermione smiled appreciatively and they exchanged a hug.
At the entrance to Hogsmeade station, Prefects were handing out letters listing an acceptable set of spells that they were allowed to use over the summer.
"I always hope they'll forget about these,"said Fred.
"Don't pretend you and George don't find ways around it," said Ron.
"I think we're stronger for it," said George.
Mary joined a mob of students taking turns giving Hagrid a hug before boarding the train, and they all waved as it pulled away from the gate. Mary wished she could share in her friends' excitement, but returning to Privet Drive didn't feel like returning home. She wouldn't see home again until the beginning of September. From the back of the seat, Hedwig gave a soft hoot and nibbled the corner of Mary's glasses.
"Cheer up," said Ron. "You can come visit me, this summer. You all can."
"I can't," said Neville. "Gran has me in trainings and retreats, and we have family visiting between each one."
"Oof, sorry about that, mate."
Neville shrugged. "If you ever meet Gran, you'll understand."
"Won't we see her at King's Cross?" Hermione asked.
Neville shook his head. "One of her nephews is picking me up. She's almost always doing something important."
Mary was reminded of Lily's family, and she promised to write to him as often as possible. "I'll need to hear from all of you," she said. "This is going to be a slow summer."
"You can pretend to cast spells on your cousin," Ron suggested.
"That goes without saying."
Mary shared the remnants of her infirmary stash, and collected snacks from the food cart to save for later. That finished off the last of her allowance for the year, and she wouldn't have money until she returned to Gringotts in Diagon Alley. Her heart ached when she mentally noted the weeks between her and that day.
"If you promise to read them, I can send you books," said Hermione. She pulled a paperback with the silhouette of a tyrannosaurus rex out of her bag, and said, "This one was really good. Send it back to me with Hedwig, and I'll send you another."
Mary accepted the book and stored it away. She had to admit, that did make her feel a little better. "Maybe a little lighter, after this one."
Then they pulled into King's Cross station, and a wave of sadness washed over her. Older students handed her luggage out of the baggage car, and she closed Hedwig into her cage. She pulled the curtain shut and cast the baffle charm so the owl could get some sleep. Another pair of students helped her stack everything onto a cart, and still more waved and called, "See you in September, Mary!"
She smiled and waved back, deciding a break from the notoriety might be nice. Waiting their turn, a wizened teller metered their departure in twos and threes. What a sight it would be if a mass of mages poured through the solid barrier into King's Cross station. Once through, Mary looked around, not really expecting to see her family, but there they were. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and even Dudley stood across from Platform Seven, trying for all the world to appear calm.
"Mother!" Percy called, and Mrs Weasley, along with Ginny, came running over to wrap the boys in a hug. Ginny jumped and began talking excitedly to Mary, who wasn't sure she caught half of what the younger girl was saying.
"That's quite enough, Ginny," said Mrs Weasley. "Take a breath."
Mary gave her a grateful smile. The matronly witch took her by both hands and gave them a friendly squeeze. "Well, look at you! Successful year?"
"I think so," said Mary, still smiling. "Thank you for the gifts over Christmas."
"Oh, it was nothing, dear. I'm glad you enjoyed them." She released released Mary's hands as Uncle Vernon approached and gave her a stiff nod. Mrs Weasley returned the gesture and told Mary, "We will see you later."
"Ready, are you?" Uncle Vernon asked, impatiently taking Mary's cart. She stiffened, watching Hedwig's cage, but he was carefully. He probably thought the luggage might explode if he bumped into something.
Mary held back for one more moment with Ron and Hermione.
"We'll see you in a few weeks," said Ron, encouragingly.
"You'll be all right, until then?" Hermione asked, watching uncertainly after Uncle Vernon.
Mary was still sad, but her heart felt noticeably lighter. "Yeah, I think so." She gave them a quick hug and followed after the Dursleys. She might feel lonely in their absence, but Mary was sure she could bear it, as long as she remembered that she had friends.