Yo! Apologies for the wait. I had a hard time with this chapter for many reasons, so I hope it sounds okay. This also covers the rest of first year. Thank you to all readers so far!

"I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing this. I cannot believe I'm doing this!"

Violet Potter was sneaking through the castle, carefully making her way to the forbidden third floor charms corridor. She was going after Rose and Ron, but damn if she knew why.

Violet hadn't told anyone what she was doing, and she was sure she was going to regret it. She knew she should have gone to get Professor Snape, but despite him never having done anything to earn her distrust, Violet just had no real faith in authority figures.

Not after the orphanage. Not after the Headmaster. Not after Hooch. ...Not after realizing Quirrell was likely the one after the Philosopher's Stone in the first place.

No, she was still going to regret it.

"...Why aren't there any teachers around?" Violet wondered in a mutter. One would think the forbidden corridor would have spells to alert them if anyone entered it, and since Rose and Ron were nowhere to be seen, they must have already gone forward. They had been here before too and nothing had happened, and Violet had come poking around once before as well, only to face no consequences of any kind.

Did no one really know? Were there really no warning spells? Or had the adults simply ignored them? But that was incredibly stupid, wasn't it? Why do that? What if that three headed dog broke out of the room it was in? Were there spells to warn the adults about that? Or would the students be placed in even more danger

Reaching the door, Violet found that it was open. Well then. She stepped through and stopped immediately when she came face to face with the dog. It looked like Fluffy was asleep, perhaps because of the harp playing on its own in a corner. That was a lucky break for her at least.

Violet spotted the trapdoor, also open, and slowly inched closer, eyes locked on the sleeping animal, praying it wouldn't wake. That thing could devour her in one and she certainly had no desire to experience that. She wanted to stay alive, thank you very much.

Yes, because doing this won't kill me, or anything.

Wand in hand, Violet peered into the dark chasm below her and took a deep breath. "Still regretting this," she muttered.

And then she jumped.

Violet closed her eyes tight as she fell farther and father down beneath the school, and suddenly began to hear panicked cries. She landed suddenly with a funny sounding thump, bouncing twice before going still. Opened her eyes, she blinked a few times as her eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness around her.

"Violet!?"

"What the bloody hell are you doing here!?"

Violet looked around, quickly discovering that they were sitting on a plant, and odd looking tendrils were coiled around Rose and Ron. Wait, what? This...was this what she thought it was?

"Stop moving!" she hissed at them, trying to push herself to her feet even as a tendril slithered closer to her. The two didn't listen to her, naturally. Well, they didn't get very far, did they? And she wasn't going to either if she didn't do something about this right now. The oh so brave Lions obviously weren't going too. They were too busy panicking their little heads off.

And then Violet gasped, Neville's voice ringing through her head, cheerfully telling her all about the Devil's Snare during a Herbology lesson. "That's it!" she whispered to herself. This seemed to be that very same plant, and if so... "Lumos Solem!" A bright light like that akin to the sun itself, shot out the end of her wand and the tendrils nearing her backed off immediately, quickly followed by the others, freeing the Gryffindors.

The light vanishing, the three stood, staring at one another, and then an argument broke out. Well, more like Rose and Ron stood there yelling while Violet glanced around at their surroundings, looking for a way out of this room, the Gryffindors' voices washing over her. She honestly couldn't care less about what they had to say. She was still angry with their stupidity...not that her own actions were any better, really.

"-and you slimy Snakes are always getti-"

"Come on," Violet said abruptly, interrupting.

"...What?"

Violet bit back a scowl and moved towards the only doorway in the room, which was more a passageway than anything. "I said come on. We can't get out, unless you can fly without a broom or climb these walls. So that leaves us with one option-that door." She stepped through it herself, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. "You can stay here too, if that's what you prefer. I don't particularly care either way."

She just wanted to know why Quirrell was trying to steal the Stone. Because she knew it most definitely wasn't Snape, no matter what these two said about it. And if it was Quirrell, then she also wanted to know what the connection was to Voldemort, or if there was one at all.

Clearly realizing they had no choice, but still grumbling, Rose and Ron joined her and the three continued on together, keeping close.

"Shh!" hissed Violet suddenly.

The other two fell silent and now all of them could hear something odd among the dripping water. There was a strange sort of...chinking sound. It was Ron who reacted first, frowning.

"Are those keys? It sounds like keys."

Rose nodded and pointed up ahead. "There's a light there."

So they followed it, arriving in a brightly lit chamber with a surprisingly high ceiling. Opposite them was a very large wooden door, and soaring above were a strange assortment of-

"Keys!" Ron exclaimed. "I was right! ...Why do they have wings?"

Rose spotted a thick, heavy looking broom nearby and looked up with a frown. "Do you think we have to catch one?"

After a moment of hesitation, Violet crossed the room quickly. She expected the flying keys to attack or something, but she reached the wooden door without hindrance, only to learn it was locked. Now she understood. "The key belonging to the door is likely one of those up there, so yes Rose, you're right, it needs to be caught."

"Then I'll take care of that!" Rose had barely even finished her sentence when she mounted the broom, kicked off, and flew up into the air.

Violet rolled her eyes but didn't stop her. Rose was the youngest Seeker over the past century, after all. "Do you even know what the key you're searching for looks like?" she called out instead.

Ron, who had joined her at the other side of the room by now, shot her a glare upon hearing her, before describing the key for his friend, and Rose ducked and swerved gracefully, quickly spotting the right one-a silver key with blue wings. A moment later they had the door unlocked.

Stepping through, they found themselves in darkness. Curious and cautious, they took a second step forward and the door slammed behind them, causing all three of them to jump in surprise. But at the same moment, the room lit up, revealing what was immediately recognizable as a life size chess board, complete with pieces. Violet wasn't getting a good feeling about this room at all.

"What do we do?" Rose asked hesitantly.

"Play our way across, of course!" said Ron rather enthusiastically. "That door on the other side will probably stay locked unless we win, and I think we have to replace three of the black pieces here." His eyes were alight with excitement. He turned to the girls. "No offence Rose, but you're terrible at chess."

"None taken."

"You ever play, Potter?"

Violet merely shrugged. "No." She could play checkers just fine, but for some reason chess had always sounded too complex to her, and she had never managed to understand it, which irritated her to no end.

"Ugh, fine. Rose, you take the place of that bishop there, and you, that castle." And while the girls did so, he himself replaced one of the knights.

As all chess matches, white moved first, and then black. Ron directed them all around the board, actually surprising Violet with his skill, not that she particularly minded it right now, when they had an actual risk of dying (as far as she knew). Wizard's Chess was quite...violent. While it was obvious Ron didn't care much for Violet, he clearly didn't wish to be blamed for the death of a classmate, and was sure to keep Violet as safe as he was Rose.

None of them were sure of how much time passed before Ron paused in thought. "Aha!" he exclaimed softly, looking up at the queen.

"What is it, Ron?"

"I've got to be taken."

"What!? No!" Rose was not at all pleased, though Violet remained silent, watching.

"That's chess. Sacrifices have to be made all the time!" Ron retorted. "If I let her take me, then you can checkmate the king, Rose!" When Rose opened her mouth to argue, he cut her off before she could even begin. "You have to stop Snape from getting that Stone! This is the only way!" And before anyone could say anything else, he took a single step forward.

Immediately, the white queen attacked, catching Ron around the head and dragging him off the board. Trembling visibly, Rose moved towards the white king, who took off his crown and tossed it at her feet. The chessmen all bowed and then shifted away, revealing the door.

Rose however, rushed over to her friend. "Ron! Ron!"

Casting a longing look at the door, Violet decided to be a decent human being and joined her sister, kneeling down next to her. She reached out, took Ron's hand, and placed two fingers on the pulse point on his wrist.

"...He's alive," she said, causing Rose to fall silent. "Looks like he was knocked unconscious." Releasing his hand, Violet checked his head. Living in an orphanage with a bunch of children had given her good insight on injuries, not to mention all of the ones she had sustained herself over the years. "It looked like a glancing blow, which is better than it being full on. He's bleeding a little, but it's already pretty much stopped. He might have a concussion though. He'll be fine."

Probably. It wasn't like she was an expert.

Rose stared at her for a long moment as if judging her truthfulness, and then sighed, looking back down at her friend. Violet may not have liked either of them, but even she could see that there was a close friendship between these two-that they obviously cared for one another.

She couldn't help but feel a little jealous about that. She'd never had a friendship like that before, and didn't know if she ever would. Slytherins were always so...guarded, and she knew that included her too.

Sighing softly, Violet got to her feet. "Come on, let's go."

Despite appearing uncertain, Rose followed after her and the two left the room through the newly unlocked door, both wondering how much further they were going to have to go before reaching the end.

The next room however, was filled with the worst scent Violet had ever had the misfortune of smelling, and she quickly started breathing through her teeth. Lying unconscious on the floor was a massive troll. It seemed like it had a large bump on the head, and the girls didn't hesitate to run across the room and yank the door open, desperate to get out, wanting to get away from the smell more than they did the passed out troll.

Violet had now figured out that each...trial they had gone through was connected to one of their classes, or perhaps professor would be a better term, in some way. Sprout had clearly been behind the Devil's Snare, and Flitwick the keys. McGonagall had to do with the chess game, which meant the troll, as a dark creature, had been Quirrell's doing. Which left only two: Snape and Dumbledore. Assuming none of the more minor subjects were involved.

On the other side of the door was a small room, in the middle of which sat a table. On top of said table, seven differently shaped bottles were lined. Well, this was a break from the norm, wasn't it?

As soon as Violet and Rose stepped forward, purple fire erupted in the doorway behind them and black flames blocked the one in front. They were trapped.

Curiously and silently the twins carefully approached the table and Rose picked up a rolled sheet of parchment that had been laying beside the bottles. While Violet examined the oddly shaped containers, she unrolled it and began to read, only to release a sound of frustration a moment later and thrust the parchment at her sister.

"Here. Solve it," Rose demanded with a scowl.

Raising a brow, Violet lifted the roll and read through it. It was a riddle, she realized right away. When was the last time she had solved one of these? This was Snape's trial then, no doubt.

"Well?" said Rose impatiently.

"Wait." Violet read through the riddle again and then began matching the lines with the bottles, all the while wishing she had something to write with. It would have made things much easier. She was sure Theodore or Hermione would have already solved the bloody thing. Eventually though, she picked up a small, round, black bottle.

"I'll be taking that!" Rose made a grab for the bottle, but Violet pulled her arm back, dodging out of the way.

"There's enough for two swallows, meaning the both of us."

"I'm not taking you with me!" And using her Seeker reflexes, Rose managed to grab the bottle and raise it up to her mouth.

Annoyed, Violet watched dispassionately. "You'll poison yourself if you drink the whole thing," she said calmly.

Rose faltered and lowered the bottle slightly, glaring at her sister. "You're lying!" she accused.

Violet shrugged unconcernedly and brushed dirt off her shoulder. "Give it a try, if you like, though all you'll do is kill yourself and allow the thief to escape."

Rose's scowl deepened, but since she had no way of knowing whether Violet was telling the truth (She wasn't. Probably.), she relented and took a single sip, and then passed the bottle over. Violet hid a smirk behind it and downed the rest of the potion, a shiver crawling up her spine at the icy feeling that enveloped her.

Without another word, the Potter twins stepped forward through the flickering black flames.

A large, stone chamber met the girls, a strange mirror the first thing visible on the other side of the room. But standing before this mirror was a person and it wasn't, as Violet had already suspected, Professor Snape.

"You!?"

Professor Quirrell slowly turned around to face them, a little pleased smirk on his face. "Yes, me," he said calmly, not a single waver in his voice.

Rose couldn't believe it. "But-but Snape!"

Quirrell raised a brow. "What of him?" he asked without interest. "Consider him an unknowing decoy, if you will. After all, who would suspect p-p-poor s-stuttering Q-Quirrell next to him?"

"But-! But Snape tried to kill me!"

"Did he now?"

"He jinxed my broom!"

Violet remembered that. During the first Quidditch match, her sister had lost control of her broom, though she had still managed to catch the golden snitch, much to the displeasure of her housemates.

Quirrell's brow rose again. "I'm afraid I know nothing about that," he said dismissively. His gaze met Violet's now. "However it appears at least one of you doesn't seem surprised to see me. Why is that?"

"It was obvious once I actually bothered paying attention," said Violet. "Your behaviour was suspicious. Your stutter would vanish every time we spoke alone, and your personality would do a complete one eighty."

Quirrell just chuckled. "Very good, Miss Potter. Five points to Slytherin." His tone was almost condescending. "I suppose it should not be a surprise you didn't consider your own Head of House as a suspect. I hoped sending the staff running after a troll would have given me enough time to do as I needed, but Snape was too smart and saw through me immediately."

"You let the troll in on Halloween!?" said Rose with a gasp. Though her intonation made it difficult to tell whether she was stating a fact or asking a question.

"Yes." Quirrell snapped his fingers and out of nowhere, ropes coiled around the girls, restraining them both. "Now, silence children. I must examine this interesting mirror. I know it's the key to finding the Stone." He wandered around it, staring hard and tapping the thick frame. "Trust Dumbledore to rely on something this foolish. But he's in London and will be far too late in arriving to stop me."

Violet frowned. What the heck was the Headmaster doing so far away from the school? And was the mirror not a normal mirror? How would it help locate the Philosopher's Stone anyway?

Rose started talking again. "But Snape hates me!"

...Is she still going on about that?

"Of course he does. He and your father went to school together and they loathed one another. He has never wanted you dead though."

Oh. Violet supposed that explained why he was so cruel to Rose. But then, why didn't he treat her the same way? Was it just because she was in Slytherin? That sort of made sense, and at least it gave her an explanation for all those odd looks he would give her when he thought she wasn't looking.

Violet was pulled out of her thoughts abruptly when Rose fell over beside her. What was she even doing? She wasn't going to be able to get out of magical binds like this so easily.

"Use the girl!" came a sudden, hoarse whisper from Quirrell, though his mouth didn't move. "Use Rose!"

Quirrell whipped around, vanished the bonds keeping Rose in place, and ordered for her to approach and look into the mirror. Violet's own bindings disappeared, but she remained where she was, unsure of what to do. Why hadn't she gone to an adult first!?

"What do you see?" said Quirrell in a dangerously soft voice.

"I-I helped Gryffindor win the House Cup!"

...Really? Was that the best thing she could think of? Violet barely knew her sister and even she knew she was lying!

"She lies... Let me speak to her, face to face. I will get the truth from her myself."

Where the heck was that voice coming from!?

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

...Master?

"Do not question me!"

Violet had no idea what exactly she had gotten herself into, but she was starting to get another new suspicion now, and watched as Quirrell reached up and began unbinding his turban. Why was he doing that? She blinked, expecting to see a normal head, well, the back of his head. But, that wasn't what she saw.

Rose screamed and Violet didn't realize that she did too, both girls staring, matching green eyes wide with pure shock. Resting on the back of Quirrell's head was a face. It was pale, practically white, the eyes were glowing crimson, and his nose was snake-like with two slits.

"Rose and Violet Potter," the face said hoarsely, giving away that it had been the mysterious voice all along. "See what I have become? Shadow and vapour, forced to become but a parasite, feeding off a host's body." His gaze focused on the Gryffindor. "Now, Rose, why don't you give me that Stone you have hidden in your pocket?"

"No!" Rose took a step back and stumbled, but Quirrell reached out and caught her by the hand before she fell, pulling her back up. "Let me go!"

"Stun her," Voldemort, because it couldn't be anyone else, ordered calmly.

With his free hand, Quirrell pulled out his wand and pointed it at Rose. "Stupefy!"

Rose collapsed onto the stone floor, leaving Violet alone with her Defence professor, who just so happened to be possessed by the Dark Lord himself.

...Well, wasn't this a fascinating situation?

Then Violet wondered if she should have been a little more concerned that her sister had just been knocked unconscious. It also looked like she'd been right in suspecting Voldemort and Quirrell were working together-or rather, that Quirrell was working for Voldemort. And why did her thoughts keep straying like this?

Violet blinked, only to find red eyes boring into her own green, and she blinked again, finally understanding that the man she had had all those discussions with over the past year hadn't been her professor at all.

"Are you scared, Violet?" said Voldemort softly. "Do you hate me?"

And it was at this very moment that Violet realized something for the first time since she had found out about Voldemort. "No. I'm not scared, and I don't hate you."

"I killed your parents."

"I know," she said in agreement. "I may only be eleven, but I've learned a lot about the war that was taking place and as far as I can tell, my parents were your enemy, as everyone from the other side was. They were the ones who chose to take part in an active war despite having two children, and like anyone who fights in wars, they became targets. They were casualties. They were in your way, and you killed them."

Violet paused and took a breath. It felt strange to be admitting what she had been thinking for the past few months. "I'm sure my parents were very good people," she continued, "and while I can't really miss them since I don't remember them, it's...hard to know they chose to continue fighting, even though Rose and I had been born."

Voldemort looked at her, an odd expression on his pale face. He said nothing for a long moment, before finally breaking the silence. "There is much I wish to tell you, and it is unfortunate we currently lack the time. I have no doubt Dumbledore is already aware of what has occurred here and is sure to arrive at any moment. I cannot be here when he does. However, there is one very important thing I feel you have the right to know, though what you do with that knowledge is up to you."

Violet blinked, uncertain but curious to know what he had to say, not really sure what to say in return.

"You, Violet Potter, are the Girl-Who-Lived."

Green eyes widened. "M-me?"

"Yes, you. It was declared otherwise because your sister has that scar on her forehead and you were unmarked. But Dumbledore made a mistake. It was you I struck with my curse, not her. You moved in front of her as the curse was in the air, and it was you who banished me. You who survived me."

Violet couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did that mean everything she had gone through had been for nothing? Rose had gotten everything because she was thought to be the Girl-Who-Lived, while Violet suffered in silence. Had there really been no point in any of that? And all because Rose had a scar on her forehead? She set a hand on her middle, over her secret rune. It had been her the whole time...

"I cannot linger here much longer," said Voldemort suddenly, drawing the girl out of her thoughts.

"Oh...right." What was she supposed to do in this situation? Should she stop him, or let him go? ...Did she even want to stop him? Violet looked down, spotting a jagged, blood red stone that had fallen out of her sister's pocket. The Philosopher's Stone. "Are-are you going to take it?"

There was a pause, and then the Dark Lord said, "There is no point. The stone is a fake."

It actually took a moment for the words to register in Violet's mind. "Fake?" she repeated, astonished. "But what about Nicolas Flamel?"

"His stone is indeed real. You have all the clues. I will allow you to find the answer on your own." Voldemort smiled slightly. "You are a very intelligent girl. I have no doubt you will learn the truth before long. But I must go now."

"O-okay..." What was she supposed to say, what was she supposed to think!?

Quirrell walked backwards until Voldemort was right in front of Violet. Having saved up his power, he once again took control of the man's body. He reached up, over his shoulders, and took hold of both of Violet's hands, his skin beginning to sizzle like bacon on a hot frying pan. Saying nothing, he brought her hands up to the back of the professor's head, to his own pale face, and held them there.

Violet watched in horror as the flesh burned and Quirrell screamed. It was clearly hurting him far more than it was her. But it was the calm look in the Dark Lord's eyes that began to ease her fear.

"This is proof," Voldemort said softly, his voice audible despite all the screaming. "Proof that you are the Girl-Who-Lived. Rose was touched as well, skin on skin, and did not have the same reaction."

Violet had noticed that as well. A few moments ago, when Rose had stumbled, Quirrell had reached out and caught her by the hand, and nothing had happened at all. Yet she remembered when the professor had come to the orphanage to tell her she was a witch and had a place at Hogwarts, he had made no move to shake her hand, as most would have done. She herself had merely assumed it was for a religious reason, coupled with that turban, and so she hadn't questioned it. And look at what the truth was!

"I have no time at the present to explain it," said Voldemort, "but there is a reason you and only you are unable to touch me."

Coloured spots appeared before Violet's eyes as darkness edged into her vision and she began to feel the tell tale signals of unconsciousness approaching. Her hands were released and the pale face had vanished, leaving only burned flesh behind.

Quirrell collapsed and Violet knew, even without looking, that he was dead. Voldemort had vanished. Violet could see no sign of him, but she could still hear his voice, low and lingering in the air around her as she dropped to her knees, suddenly exhausted and unable to keep herself up.

"We will meet again, Violet. Someday soon."

A dark veil settled over her and Violet knew no more...

When Violet finally woke, it was a slow and rather confusing affair, and it felt as if her brain was working slower than ever. Unsure of where she was exactly, she fought to keep as still as possible while she tried to focus, and it was now that she realized she could hear voices. There were two people speaking and since one of the voices sounded suspiciously like her own, she realized it must have been Rose. But then who-

"-dmaster?"

Ah. Dumbledore. That made sense. Frowning slightly but keeping her eyes closed, Violet listened closer, curious to know what the two were talking about even as, somewhere in the back of her mind, she understood they were in the hospital wing (the scent was familiar from when she had brought Theo). It seemed she had woken in time to hear the two speak of the Dark Lord.

"But, do you really think he'll be coming back?" Rose was asking.

"Once he finds a new method of return, yes."

"Why didn't he take the Stone, then?"

There was a pause before Dumbledore answered. "Perhaps he realized doing so would cause him to become easy to trace. That is the only Philosopher's Stone in existence for a reason. He would have been forced to rely on the Elixir of Life as well, and would die upon missing a single dosage. It is not a full-proof method, and he knows this."

Violet frowned. Hadn't Voldemort said the Stone was a fake though? Why wasn't Dumbledore admitting that? Surely he must have known, right? A sudden thought struck her. Nicolas Flamel was over six hundred years old, right? Which meant he must have been taking care of the Stone himself all these centuries. Dumbledore was old, yes, but not that old, so after dealing with the Stone by himself for so long, why suddenly entrust Dumbledore with it? Yes, Gringotts had been broken into, but in what universe was a school filled with children safer that a dragon guarded vault?

...Unless the Stone had been a plant the entire time. The real Stone had been swapped out, and Hagrid had, likely unknowingly, been sent to pick up the fake-perhaps to draw out the Dark Lord. The vault had, after all, nearly been burglarized. Then there was Dumbledore's words at the start of term feast, those words about the third floor charms corridor being banned to those who didn't wish to die painfully. Everyone knew if you told a child not to do something, they generally did the opposite. So informing them all of the vague hazard, there was always a chance for one of them to be killed by that three headed dog.

Rose and Ron had made it to that corridor, into that room, and down that trap door long before Violet had and yet, there hadn't been a single adult in sight. Why? She had thought this as she had made it there herself, but were there really no alarms or counter measures up there? Why hadn't anyone known that the three of them had gone there? Twice! What if that blow to the head had killed Ron?

And how in the world did Dumbledore not know the Defence professor was possessed by the Dark Lord? How could he just...miss that fact? All year everyone said that Quirrell had changed recently, but had none of the adults actually thought to question the change?

"Professor? Why didn't he kill me or Violet?" asked Rose suddenly, drawing the other girl out of her thoughts.

"Ah." For a brief moment it almost seemed as if Dumbledore didn't know how to answer that, but then said, "There is one thing in this world that Voldemort does not understand, and it is that one thing that saved the two of you."

"What is it?"

"Love, Rose, love. Voldemort does not, cannot understand love, and it was the love of your mother that protected you girls, the love that helped you all those years ago and continues to protect you even now to this very day."

Then why was Rose the one praised for what happened that night and not their mum?

"Do you know anything about the Invisibility Cloak I got at Christmas then, sir?"

The old man chuckled a little here. "Your father left it in my possession not long before his death. I thought it was due time for it to be returned to his blood kin."

"Oh."

...That still didn't answer why Rose got it instead of Violet. Honestly, she really hoped it was just because Rose was older than her and not special treatment. Ask dammit! Ask! But Rose didn't bother questioning it, clearly having no concern because she had been the one to receive the cloak.

"...Sir?"

Oh, she actually sounds hesitant. I wonder what she's about to ask...

"Yes, my dear?"

"Why does Snape hate me?"

"Professor Snape, Rose," Dumbledore corrected, mild admonishment in his tone.

"Yes sir." Rose didn't sound particularly repentant.

The Headmaster sighed softly, sounding morose. "Your father and Professor Snape were...akin to yourself and Mister Malfoy in many ways. They argued, and they fought, and then James did something Professor Snape could never forget or forgive."

"What was that?"

"He saved his life."

"...Oh."

Oh is right. I always knew there was something there with Snape, but I didn't realize how...deep it was. Violet was still confused though, because now she was wondering if her Head of House was really that caught up in a schoolboy rivalry. With someone who was long dead no less! ...How was that even healthy?

Feeling tired again, Violet sighed softly and allowed herself to fall asleep once more, too many confusing thoughts swirling through her mind...

"VOLDEMORT!"

Violet jolted awake at the sudden cry. "Holy, jeez," she muttered, setting a hand over her rapidly beating heart. What was Rose yelling about? Yawning widely, she missed the next few seconds of the conversation, but once she was able to hear again, she froze. Hagrid was giving Rose a photo album containing pictures of their parents, obtained by people who had known them. Pictures...

"Thanks, Hagrid! I've seen pictures of them, but only the Muggle kind! These are brilliant!"

"I knew yeh'd like it!"

When neither of them made an effort to include her, Violet shut her eyes and tuned the voices out. She hadn't realized her sister could be so cruel. She knew she was there in the same room. It would have been simple to have shown her too. But she hadn't. And while Hagrid wasn't a bad person, he was just very prejudiced against all Slytherins. He'd been kind to her when he had first seen her, but that was before she had been Sorted. He hadn't spoken to her since.

An hour later, while Rose was taking a nap, Violet headed to the loo, pleased Madam Pomfrey had told them they were allowed to leave in time for the Parting Feast in a handful of hours. She couldn't wait to get out of here.

Glancing into the mirror while she washed her hands, Violet noticed how much paler she was than usual, and noticed how large and dark her eyes looked. It was clear that while she felt fine, not all had been well in that room with the Stone. She sighed, then looked away from her reflection.

When Violet returned to her bed, she paused in place at the sight of something sitting on her pillow. Frowning, she reached out and picked up what was clearly a photograph. A moving photograph of a man and woman dancing hand in hand among the falling leaves of autumn. She hadn't seen one in person like this before-only in the newspaper and in her textbooks.

Curious about how it got there, she was about to set it back down when a flash of green caught her eye. Frown deepening, Violet raised it up to examine it closer and froze. Those eyes…

The red haired woman in the picture had a pair of very familiar green eyes. Now Violet looked even closer, almost greedily, taking in every detail she could. The man's hair, the woman's nose, the man's mouth, the woman's jawline, the man's knees, the woman's shoulders.

Violet's breathing was quick and shaky as her fingers gently passed over the pictured faces of who she knew were her mum and dad. This was the first time... She hadn't even known what they looked like all these years, and now that she was seeing them, she didn't want to look away. She wanted to soak in each and every detail, terrified the photo would be taken from her. She didn't bother questioning its presence anymore, simply thankful to be able to see it.

She knew she had told Voldemort she didn't really miss them, but that didn't change the fact that they had given their lives for her and her sister which meant, in her mind, that they must have loved them. Loved her. Tears pooled into her eyes and one by one, slid down her cheeks, but she didn't even realize, too caught up in her tumultuous emotions.

So focused on the picture of her parents, Violet didn't notice the dark eyed man hidden in the shadowy corner of the room, watching her with confused emotions of his own swirling through his mind...

It wasn't until that evening that Madam Pomfrey finally allowed the Potter twins to leave the hospital wing. The two hurried out together, only to turn and go in the opposite direction without a word once they were in the corridor.

Violet was making her way to the dungeons when she suddenly heard a call of her name. With the voice sounding familiar, she turned around and saw Theodore and Hermione jogging over to her, both of them looking more than a little relieved. The two had been very worried for her, and despite being in different Houses, had been waiting for her together.

"You should have told us what was happening! Or at least told a teacher!" Hermione admonished, hugging her tightly.

Violet, who stiffened at first, unused to being touched, relaxed and awkwardly patted the other girl on the back. "Er, sorry?" But when Hermione finally pulled away, Theodore suddenly punched her, catching her arm. "Ow! What was that for, Theo!?" she questioned, rubbing her upper arm.

Blue eyes as cool as ever, Theodore merely raised a brow. "I'm fulfilling a promise, that's all."

Both girls blinked. "A promise?" they said in unison.

"You don't remember?" Theodore smirked. "The day of the flying lessons, you made me promise to punch you if you ever tried to save your sister again. You did try, so I punched you."

There was a moment of silence before all three began to laugh, the sound filling the corridor and causing many of the portrait people to look round in shocked astonishment.

Seeing the concern and then the relief on the faces of Theodore and Hermione, Violet, for the very first time, realized that she had no reason to be jealous of her sister and Ron, because she too actually had friends. A smile stretched across her face and the three headed off together.

As Violet sat at Slytherin Table in the Great Hall (which had been decorated with Gryffindor banners after Slytherin's win had been snatched away from under them) a little while later, eating the feast set before her, she couldn't help letting her thoughts stray to the Dark Lord. What happened to him? Was he...was he okay?

She knew everyone would be shocked if they found out what she was thinking, but she could still remember each conversation she had had, not with her professor, but Voldemort...not that she'd known that at the time.

The Dark Lord, the man who had killed her parents, tried to kill both her sister and her, had been kinder to her, more considerate to her than the Headmaster of her own school. And solely because Dumbledore thought Rose was the 'Girl-Who-Lived', Violet was but a mere afterthought! It was infuriating! Especially since Rose wasn't even the actual 'Girl-Who-Lived'!

No, Violet wasn't going to tell anyone about the truth. She didn't want all the attention her sister got from everyone. But at the same time, she found that she sort of wanted to...prove herself to Voldemort.

All those little compliments and praises he had given her had always made her so happy and proud, though she hadn't understood why. Knowing it had been Voldemort the entire time did nothing to change that feeling either. Actually, the fact that the Dark Lord Voldemort himself had been impressed by an eleven year old girl, no matter their previous history, was shocking!

Violet had heard so many members of her House talking about him as if they revered him, so many of their parents or family had become his followers, and many of them spoke as if it was their life goal to do the same thing, if he ever did return in some way. Violet didn't want to become one of his followers though. Honestly, she didn't really know what she wanted, so she figured she would just wait and see what happened.

She knew this was insane, knew her House members had influenced her thoughts somewhat, but she really couldn't care less what others would have to say or think about this. She did briefly entertain the thought of her parents being disappointed, but they had been the ones who chose to continue fighting.

After the feast, Violet approached Dumbledore, having something on her mind she was desperate to ask. "Headmaster?"

The old man blinked and peered down at her from beneath half moon spectacles. "Good evening, Violet. What may I do for you?" he asked with a smile.

Violet hesitated, wondering how to word her question, and then decided to just be blunt about it. "I was just wondering, would it be possible for me to...stay at Hogwarts over the summer? Sir?"

Blue eyes widened slightly before clouding over, the smile fading. "I'm afraid not," he said finally. "All students must return to their homes. The professors all do the same, and students cannot remain here unsupervised, you understand." He reached out and set a gnarled hand on her small shoulder. "Forgive me, Violet, but you must remain at the orphanage. It would not be safe for you anywhere else."

"...I understand, sir." But as she turned and walked away, a frown found its place on her face. And she did understand. Understand what the old man hadn't been saying, that is.

Despite her not being the Girl-Who-Lived, Dumbledore was probably worried she would get a little too close to the Slytherins. If something were to happen to Rose, she knew she was probably going to become the new Girl-Who-Lived, with him likely saying a mistake had been made, or something along those lines. There was also a chance he was suspicious about what had happened during the whole 'Stone incident'.

Or perhaps she was completely wrong and the castle was truly going to be devoid of life all summer.

That didn't mean she was happy about it though. Starlight was the last place she wanted to return to.

On the Hogwarts Express, Violet shared a compartment with Theodore, Hermione, and Neville, the latter of who appeared rather nervous to be there. Though he beamed and blushed brightly when Violet thanked him for telling her all about the Devil's Snare earlier that year. She honestly wouldn't have known about it otherwise, and then she would have been as stuck as Rose and Ron.

Neville's reaction however, had clearly told her he wasn't used to receiving compliments (much like herself), and she made a mental note to rectify that. He...was a friend too, after all, she decided.

There really wasn't much conversation between them, all four of them being the quiet types (depending), and Violet gazed out the window, hiding her sadness. She watched London get closer and closer, and with each passing moment the happiness in her heart faded more and more. She didn't want to go back, but she had nowhere else to go.

Dumbledore had insisted she remain at Starlight, Theodore's father was more likely to kill her than welcome her, Hermione was going away for the vacation, and Neville's gran didn't like having guests over. Not really knowing anyone else, Violet didn't think she had any other options.

She could run away from the orphanage, take money out of her vault and rent a room, but she couldn't use magic outside of school, and honestly?-she had no idea how to live on her own. How would she survive? Did she even have enough money to do something like that? Not to mention no one in their right mind would give a room to an unsupervised eleven year old, no matter how well behaved and respectful they were.

So it was with a deep sigh that Violet stepped off the train and onto platform Nine and Three Quarters. Still concealing how upset she was, she said her goodbyes to her friends, watching as Theodore left with his father, Neville with his grandmother, and Hermione with her parents. She saw Ron and his three older brothers be greeted cheerfully by their mother and younger sister, tight embraces all around. And then she saw her sister.

Rose was standing with a tall, thin faced woman, a very large man with no neck, and a boy about the same age as them who had clearly taken after his father.

So those were the Dursleys, huh? While the little family appeared quite happy and pleased, Violet found herself glad she didn't have to stay with them. She wasn't sure how things would have turned out if she had, but for some reason, something was telling her that if that had been the case, then neither she nor her sister would have turned out very well.

Perhaps feeling the thoughtful gaze on her, Rose turned around, her green eyes meeting Violet's. The two merely regarded one another for a moment before their aunt wrapped a caring arm around her niece, drawing her away as she began to walk. Rose followed after them and then glanced over her shoulder, eyes meeting her twin sister's again, and she shot her a smug grin before turning back around and leaving the station with her aunt, uncle, and cousin.

Left alone once more, Violet turned around and took one last look at the barrier leading to the hidden platform before she too departed the station with her head held high. She began her walk back to the orphanage, already missing Hogwarts, missing home.

There we go, finally done first year! Next chapter will start off second year, so yeah, progress. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!