Happy New Years everyone! Hope ya'll been safe :D
For those recently joining us, welcome! For my long time readers - thank you for being patient with me. I hope this is worth it!
Oh that reminds me - guest reviewer (Neve) asked me a question. The events of this story somewhat follow the events of the Philosopher's Stone. I say somewhat because this is mostly occurring in Meissa's point of view. Because she's in Slytherin there's room for creativity in my opinion. And I do plan on writing the other books as well. I think I'll be safe if I mention there will be materials that do not appear in the canon - that probably should've been obvious from the moment ya'll realize this is about an OC. Anyway, I hope this answers your question Neve.
SenHajime - hi! I remember your previous review and this time you commented about Meissa, Draco and Daphne being the Slytherin Golden Trio (I think someone would probably call them the Silver trio) and I have to say I rather like this idea! Thanks for it, would you be okay if I incorporate it? And I hope Draco will be less affected by his father's decisions as well. I think it's a likely thing but only time will tell :D
Onwards to the Story!
Chapter 31: What Just Happened?
"You!" Harry exclaimed as she held her wand out, watching the wizard with a wary look on her face. She could see that there was something off about him - the vibe she had felt from him actually stronger this time around.
Tension vibrated through her body as she watches him, noticing the way his face stayed still as he smiled at them. "Me," he said rather calmly, "I had wondered if I'd be meeting you here, Potter." He looked sharply at her, his eyes seemingly tearing through her - searching for a weakness. "Although I had not expected a daughter of the Black family to be joining you."
"Harry," Meissa hissed lowly as she gripped her wand tightly, subtly edging herself into position to protect him. "Your wand! Take out your wand!"
"Oh!" she saw him move from the corner of her eyes as she kept her gaze on Quirrell.
"So there was a reason," she started blandly to distract Quirrell, "for Professor Snape to be confronting you so much."
He laughed, a cold and sharp kind that dug straight into her spine and told her that this was a man who was up to no good. This was a man who was willing do desperate things. "Yes, Severus has been a thorn in my side," he looked practically furious for a long moment. "But he served a purpose. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering, P-Professor Quirrell."
She didn't care for the mocking tone.
"So, Quirrell, is it you who jinxed Harry's broom that first game?"
"Yes," he grinned, quite proud of himself for the attempt. "It was a pity that Miss Granger broke my concentration - though setting Snape on fire was quite something." He sneered. "Another few seconds and I'd have got him off that broom. Even sooner if he hadn't been muttering a counter curse."
There was a sharp inhalation from Harry as he took that bit of news by surprise.
"He was trying to save me?" Harry mutters.
"Of course," Quirrell said in an extremely icy tone of voice. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match?" Meissa had to admit, in the privacy of her mind, that this was something he would do. But why he would do such a thing - when it's no secret that he was often nick picking on Harry.
Meissa tenses as she sensed him gathering his magic about him and was ready when he jabbed his wand forward - thick ropes conjured and trying to wrap around them.
"Confringo!" she fires off immediately before snapping out a "Reducto!" (1) (2)
In the next instant she shoves Harry to the side, causing him to land behind a nearby pillar as she moved - her 'Reducto' rebounding off the Protego she had expected him to cast. The conjured ropes long since ashes.
"You think you can fight me!" she hears Quirrell laugh. "You must've seen what I did to the troll in the chamber back there!"
"Langlock! Obscuro!" she hisses, flicking her wand at him as she cast spell after spell at him in hope of seeing where his skills lie. (3) (4)
A muffled shout was encouraging in her opinion but when she moved to take advantage of that she saw his eyes glitter angrily at her as he moved his lips - forming some sort of spell.
She scarcely had a thought to move when she found herself being thrown backward.
Her back slamming hard against the ground with a sickening crack and a sharp flare of pain that had her fighting to suppress a scream. Dark spots clouds her vision as she struggled to get up, Quirrell's vicious laughter ringing in her ears, nearly drowning out Harry's worried calls.
"You think you can fight me?" Quirrell was saying, "I know more spells than you've lived!"
Her lip bitten raw as she struggled to get to her feet, "Sh-shut up," she mutters lowly as she held her wand tightly.
"You still wish to fight," Quirrell notes drily. "I cannot tell if you have spunk or if you lost a marble or two when you hit the floor."
Everything was blurring - she was pretty sure she gotten a concussion when she was thrown - but she couldn't, she wouldn't let this end. What chance did Harry have if she couldn't do this? She could buy more time for Hermione - she can do that much.
"Ex-Expelliarmus!" she manages to snap out, "Expulso - Stupefy!" She just threw spell after spell at him, hoping to keep him on the back foot if it was even possible to do so. (5) (6) (7)
Yet, with every spell she threw he simply batted it aside as if it was mere child's play. And a distant part of her recognized that for him, an experienced wizard, of course it would be child's play.
It only made her that much more determined to get better and stronger.
"Avis! Confringo! Confundus!" (8) (9)
He still batted them aside.
She could feel the pain raising and a distant part of her mind seemed to be screaming - and it was growing louder as she fought to distract Quirrell. But there was something else - just underneath the screaming - it felt familiar.
It was a red hot boiling sort of feeling and she knew that it was just the thing she needed to stay focus and not pass out. So she reached for it as she dove to the side under a sickly green spell. Hesitating only briefly when she felt the familiar taste of rage - but the darkening spots in her vision pushed her to ignore the rage and embrace the feeling.
What could go wrong?
~MJB~
Harry had been behind a pillar, thinking as he tried to come up with a plausible plan besides Meissa exchanging spells with Quirrell. He was stumped - he didn't know what to do and Meissa had already taken a bad hit, being thrown like that, and he could see the pain in her movements. She was actually starting to slow.
But right when he had an idea he saw something in Meissa's eyes. They had turned completely glassy and it was bad because she was just kneeling there. In perfect view of Quirrell and his wand.
Just as Quirrell was about to capitalized this he saw something. Something that would stay with him for as long as he lived.
Just as a spell - it was a sickly pale white color and he completely missed the incantation - left Quirrell's wand he saw pure and adulated rage spill through Meissa's eyes. At the same time there was practically an explosion of pure magic that just bounced the spell away and when it hit the pillar he was hiding behind he saw the impact of the spell. Watching as the stone pillar just crumbled away as it turned to sand.
"What in!" Quirrell cried out in shock.
"I. HATE. YOU!" Meissa screamed as her magic lashed out - except, Harry couldn't recognize her voice. It was deeper, almost, it sounded different. And he wasn't sure if it was because she was screaming. "DIE!"
"What are you!" Quirrell cried as he actually blocked the magic being directed at him by the furious Slytherin.
She gave no answer - just screamed furiously as she did some kind of motion with her wand that shot a bright red colored spell.
"Enough…" Harry suddenly heard - it was nothing like Quirrell's voice and yet it came from him. Quirrell's wand moved in an elaborate gesture and the spell from Meissa just trickled off into nothing. Harry could practically see the rage simmering off of Meissa's form. "Power… You have power just like your mother…"
Harry stilled as the words registered and he saw Meissa do the same.
"You… You're… you're him…"
"Let me speak to her… face-to-face…"
"Master, you are not strong enough!"
"Yu should know not to speak back against your betters," Meissa sneered and Harry could only watch, petrified, as Quirrell trembled and reached up to unwrap his turban.
The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot. Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
Meissa had a distinctly impassive look on her face but there was that thick heavy rage surging forward at the sight. Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move.
"You are… much like your mother…"
"You would know," Meissa said in a tone that was dismissive and Harry - as he watched on - saw a flicker of outrage on the face. "Seeing as you're the reason I don't see her anymore."
"Join me… Join me and have unimaginable power…"
"Join the mad man that took away my mother? I think not!"
"Then you shall have to die!"
Harry shouted for Meissa just as the two magical auras clashed together into something that was practically visible for him to see. He shuddered at the colors in the two auras - one had a film appearance of something like oil while the other one reminded him of a thunder storm.
"HAHAHAHA! YOU THINK YOU CAN OUTMATCH ME!"
Harry ducks around, realizing that this was an opportunity to get the stone. He had recognized the mirror during the duel between Meissa and Quirrell and he remembered what Dumbledore said when he had last seen it. He snuck around to the mirror, glancing over to the conflict between Meissa and Quirrell. He didn't like that it looked Meissa was being overwhelmed.
He steps in front of the mirror, holding his breath. He saw his reflection, pale and scared looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket - and as it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow - incredibly - he'd gotten the Stone.
Now he just needed to keep it from Quirrell and get Meissa out of this alive.
That shouldn't be a problem, right?
~MJB~
Meissa slowly came to with the sounds of screams echoing in her mind. Her entire body ached and she felt like there was something wet clinging to her left side.
"AAARGH!"
She blinks the spots away, slowly realizing that she wasn't hearing that inside her own head.
Screams of 'KILL HIM! KILL HIM!' was just barely audible against these terrible shrieks that hurts her ears. She squints against the glow of the fire around them to find that Harry was clinging onto Quirrell and he was… crumbling to ashes?
She pulls her arm close to her and tried to push herself upward, her eyes focused on Harry and the stone in his hand. It was while she was looking at him that she noticed a dust cloud with the face of - what is that?!
"Harry! Behind you!" she calls out weakly, coughing when she felt something shift in her side.
She watched him turn and gasp just the dust cloud rushed forward, going through Harry.
"ARRRHHHHHH!"
"AHHHHH!"
"Harry!"
She watched helplessly as he fell back in a dead faint. And the cloud vanished, wailing/screeching loudly.
She grits her teeth against each other and forced herself up onto her feet, an arm pressed protectively against her left side as she shuffled forward.
In what seems like forever she finally reaches him and gratefully drops to her knees next to him, her fingers pressing briefly against his neck. Finding herself grateful for the fact that he was still alive.
"Thanks for not making a liar out of me," she muttered tiredly before she took notice of the stone in his outstretched hand. "The Philosopher's stone," she whispered breathlessly, gingerly picking it up. She holds it up to the flames, looking through the red uncut stone about the size of her fist.
She vaguely remembered reading something about there being fake stones - and that the best way to know if one is holding a true stone or not. A true stone would be able to handle any sort of feats - even, from what she had heard, resurrection. But on top of that it would be impervious to any attempt to destroy it.
After a moment she nods to herself and sets the stone away from her and Harry. With a deep breath she took up her wand - she was glad she hadn't lost it in between passing out and waking up - and tapped the stone with the tip. Muttering a mild version of a blasting curse - expecting the stone to simply amplify the spell.
What really happened was the stone exploded into tiny little pieces, slicing into her exposed flesh and embedding into the dragon hide dueling clothes she had on.
"Whoa," she muttered, brushing herself off. "That's…" she frowns as she considered what this meant. "That's bad…" She shakes her head and looks at Harry's unconscious form and considered her injuries and magic levels.
She felt wiped out - like she expended all of her strength into something… It wouldn't be too far of a stretch to claim she'd be sleeping for a week. Except - she didn't want to be unconscious when they get rescued - because she didn't exactly see a way out from the room surrounded by fire in every direction…
"I'm in so much trouble when Uncle Sevy gets here," she mutters in a matter of fact tone, idly picking at one of the bleeding injuries she had. "I'll be lucky to be able to go to 'Mione's house for the summer."
She looks at Harry for a long moment. "I think I know a spell that could wake you up - but… I'm so bloody tired… I don't suppose you know what happened after I passed out?" She rambled for a long time before the flames finally went out and she saw the silhouette of her godfather, accompanied by Albus Dumbledore.
"Hi!" she called cheerfully as she waved to her godfather - her movements jerky as she started to list off to the side. The pain in her side was actually worse than it had been when she first gain consciousness.
"You foolish girl!" he exclaimed as he went immediately to her side. Leaving Harry to Dumbledore. She didn't mind - she didn't think she'd stay awake much longer to be honest.
"Sorry…" she blinks up at him. "Is… is Potter going to be ok…?"
She could practically feel him sneer at the mention of Harry but the low hum she got from him told her stories. And so she allowed her eyes to close, comforted by the fact that they were safe.
Maybe in hindsight, she'll regret a lot of what happened in the room but right now, with a possible concussion addling her mind, she couldn't really bring herself to care about staying awake.
So she allowed the darkness to reach up and carry her down into sleep, an old lullaby thrumming in the back of her mind.
~MJB~
She slowly became aware, of what she wasn't quite sure but it was gradual awareness. First it was the heavy sensation of her limbs. Just trying to move her arm felt like a lot of effort. She felt a bit ill as she tried to regain control over her body, trying hard to push away the cotton sensation in her mind.
Second was trying to open her eyes, she could tell that there was light where she was - it didn't have the same harsh light as the flames from before so she knows she's safe. She could feel the weight of a blanket on her - the sensation familiar to her from when she was suffering from the stone flesh curse. Once she identified where she was she knew - she knew that she was safe but instantly wanted to get away.
So she turned her attention inward and reached for the cause of the sensation - taking it and slipping it into the pools in the back of her mind, tucking it out of the way so that she could think with clarity.
Almost instantly the heavy sensation along her limbs faded and she could feel what she couldn't before.
Pain.
Exhaustion. Physical. Emotional. Magical?
But she couldn't afford to focus or feel any of them so she slid them away and into the pools, focusing only on getting up and getting out of the Hospital Wing as soon as possible.
It was slow going, moving about and even sitting upright was a struggle. It had her questioning how long she was out. It felt like she had been unconscious for more than a day but until she got to a calendar the chances of her knowing is slim unless she spoke with someone. So long that someone wasn't Madam Pomfrey…
"What are you doing?" she suddenly heard, causing her to tense before she realized who spoke.
She turns towards her best friend who was standing by the curtains that surrounded the bed - she hadn't noticed that they were drawn, giving her some measure of privacy. She saw that she had a bundle of what looked like the school's uniform in her hands and found herself grateful for this.
"I was planning on leaving," she answered honestly, testing her arms. She found no bandages and not a single scar marred her skin. Though she had to wonder if the glamour on her earrings could be expanding to any new scar she acquires… She'll have to question her aunt about that one since she has no idea what were the parameters of the glamour spells.
"Your ribs are still healing," Daphne told her in an icy voice as she walked over to her. "In fact, you shouldn't even be able to move."
"Did Madam Pomfrey use a spell to keep me from leaving the bed?" she asked - recalling a moment when the Medic-Witch had done that after she refused to cooperate and stay in bed.
"No, but you should be in too much pain to be moving."
Meissa pauses as she connected Daphne's words to the pain she had felt earlier. The pain would have kept her bed ridden if she had not chosen to ignore it. "So I should be," she remarked idly, pushing the blankets off of her legs and moving to grab her clothes.
"You're not going to stay here are you," she heard Daphne sigh before the blonde reappeared in her line of sight. She gave the other Slytherin girl a regretful smile only to get an eye roll in retaliation. "Let me help."
"I can handle it."
Daphne gave her a glare that told her not to be dumb and to not question everything. Meissa simply smiled at her and watched as the blonde picked up her shirt. She arched an eyebrow at the other girl as she sorted it out so that it was no longer inside out.
It was when the other girl reached out for her that she had to lean back to avoid her. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Helping you change?"
"I don't need you to change my clothes for me," she protested.
"Can you even lift your arm without hurting?" Daphne retorts darkly.
She wasn't even sure if she could but she wasn't in the habit of allowing someone to undress her, or even to dress her. She didn't like the concept of being vulnerable. "Can't I just dress myself?" she narrowed her eyes at the other girl.
"Can you prove to me that you can lift your arm over your head?" Daphne questioned in a tone that burked no arguments. With an irritated look on her face she raised her right arm. "The other one too."
She narrows her eyes even further at the other girl she raised her left arm but only got as far as her shoulder before her side exploded in pain, causing her to gasp out in shock.
"Oh Merlin…!" she gasps lowly, struggling to breathe through the pain. A distant scream building in the back of her mind - until she shoved it all aside and into the pools
She felt Daphne's hands on her shoulders and looked up at the blonde. "I'm sorry," she heard her say through the haze clouding her mind. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable… but… can you honestly tell me you can dress yourself without help?"
"I…" she closed her eyes tightly, a shiver running through her body and caused a spasm of pain to spear through her mind. She hated this weakness but couldn't she trust Daphne? She trusted her to help her with her potion regime - she can trust her to help her during this moment of weakness… right? "I can't do it by myself," she admits softly and felt Daphne squeeze her shoulder before her touch disappeared.
"Can you focus past the pain?" Daphne asked quietly, gently touching Meissa at her bicep.
She took a moment but she eventually managed to gather up the pain and poured them into the pools, setting them aside so that she could focus on the now. Once she had managed to do that she nodded her head to Daphne's question and told herself that Daphne only wanted to help her.
"I'm going to undo the top," she heard the blonde tell her quietly before she felt her fingers brush against her neck, snagging onto the material and gently undoing the buttons before sliding it off. "Arms," she heard her mutter and she silently lifted her arms so that she could slip her arms into the sleeves. She averts her eyes as Daphne adjusted the shirt to align the buttons.
Both girls averting their eyes from each other as the shirt was buttoned up.
Once that was done all that was left was the trousers, and both weren't sure how they were going to handle this. Meissa was already uncomfortable allowing someone else to dress her and Daphne had to admit - in the privacy of her own mind - that she hadn't really thought this through.
She just knew that Meissa couldn't do a lot of things on her own due to her ribs still being bruised despite the magic Madam Pomfrey had worked on her. She had questioned the Medic-Witch about her friend and knew that it was too early to say that Meissa was completely healed from her ordeal - something about her body being resistant to being healed by external magic.
So she knew that for the Medic-Witch to release her Meissa would have to spend more than a few days in the Hospital Wing. But the chances of the Black heiress doing something like willingly once she woke up? It was slim and it was simply better to keep an eye on her after she wakes up instead of having to chase her down. So that's why she was helping Meissa get ready to make an escape from the Hospital Wing instead of scolding her and fetching the Medic-Witch.
Once the last button was done Daphne reached for the trousers.
"So… how do you want to approach this?" she asked instead of ordering Meissa to stand up so she could take off the pajama bottoms.
"I imagine I won't be able to bend," Meissa remarked drily.
"Likely not."
"Close your eyes?"
Daphne arched an eyebrow but nodded her head slightly in agreement. So she helped Meissa up to her feet and - shutting her eyes - fumbled in helping Meissa remove the bottoms. She held the trousers out for Meissa to step into them, supporting her when she felt the other girl's hand on her shoulder.
It didn't take them long to get the trousers on right and for Meissa to button them up properly. After that it was a simple matter of getting Meissa's socks and shoes on.
"Finally," Meissa breathed, grateful that the whole experience was finally over and that she could now make her grand escape from the Hospital Wing. She picks up her wand holster, strapping it into place but frowned when she saw that her wand wasn't secured within the leather holster. "Where's my wand?"
"Huh," Daphne looked at the table that held Meissa's dragon hide clothing. She quickly rummaged through them but found nothing but blood for her trouble. "It's not in here."
Daphne looked over to the other girl and saw how her eyes darkened as something akin to pure rage began to grip her friend.
If there was one thing she had learned about her friend, Meissa was deeply possessive about her wand. She wasn't sure about the reason behind it but she knew that if Meissa's wand doesn't show up any time soon, the whole wing will be turned to shambles.
"Let me go check and see if Madam Pomfrey has it," she told the other girl, hoping she could ward off the explosion of anger.
The dark glitter in her friend's eyes told her that she best hurry.
The blonde Slytherin turned about and all but ran for the Medic-Witch's office, grateful that she was out of the wing for the moment. "Accio Meissa's wand!" she intoned, desperation coloring her words against her better judgment.
She felt an immense sense of relief when she saw one of the drawers rattle in response to the spell. With a glance around to reassure herself that the Medic-Witch hadn't shown up in the last few seconds she enters the office and made her way to the drawer. With her wand in hand she tested the drawer, reassuring herself that it was locked and hoped that a simple 'Alohomora' would work.
She hissed the spell under her breath but frowned when she didn't hear the click that indicated that the drawer had unlocked. Of course it wouldn't be that easy…
"Daphne," she heard Meissa's voice behind her, nearly causing her to jump from the suddenness of hearing someone behind her. "Step aside."
The blonde looked at her best friend, stunned to realize that the dark glitter in her eyes had turned into open rage. And at the same time she realized that she could scarcely recognize her friend's voice. It sounded deeper - almost guttural as opposed to the expressive one she normally had, it was the kind that inspired protectiveness from those who truly knew her. Except right now, it sounded like someone took her voice and pushed it through a meat grinder and then tried to put it back together with tape and glue.
"Meissa?"
Dark eyes cut into her and all she knew was rage burning deep through her. "Move. Aside. Now."
Daphne hastened aside, aware that in the deepest part of her mind that something was wrong as the Black heiress reached her hand out to the drawer. "Accio!" The drawer rattled but didn't budge. "ACCIO!" The rattle was even more violent than before but it still did not budge. Daphne watched as her friend narrowed her eyes even more and the thick feeling of rage surrounding both of them grew even worse.
And the pure magic that apparently belonged to Meissa seemed to thicken even more strongly than before. She felt like she was going to suffocate. It was feeling that worsened as Meissa reached her hand out for the drawer and clenched her hand into a fist and yanked.
The explosion of magic threw her back and she lost all sense of thoughts.
~MJB~
Spells
1) Confringo - explodes flames at the target (curse)
2) Reducto - blasts solid objects aside (spell)
3) Langlock - glues opponent's tongue to the roof of their mouth (spell)
4) Obscuro - blindfolds the victim (spell)
5) Expelliarmus - disarms your opponent (spell)
6) Expulso - makes objects explode (spell)
7) Stupefy - knocks out opponent (spell)
8) Avis - launches birds from your wand (spell)
9) Confundus - used to confuse opponents (charm)
Please let me know if there's any questions you have about the fic (or if you just want to leave a comment) The review button is right below and I'll respond to any reviews if it's not a guest review.