Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

The Sorcerer’s Stone

“Yer sure this i’ the door?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Locked. Alohomora!

Harry stuffed his wand back into his pocket and pulled the door open. The gentle strumming of a harp drifted out and he breathed, “’E’s already ‘ere.”

The four of them crept inside, closing the door behind them. Fluffy was asleep, all three heads snoring softly. Harry motioned at the other three and said, “We ‘ave ter move ‘is paw!” He pointed at the trapdoor, which was under one of Fluffy’s huge paws. The four of them grabbed a hold and pushed. They pulled the trap door open and looked down, seeing nothing but darkness gaping up at them.

Harry said, “Ni, ye go firs’.”

“Harry…”

“Go, Ni!”

Niamh nodded and jumped. Ron then asked, “Who’s next?”

Harry replied, “I’ll go.” He then froze. “Is’n i’ a bit…quiet?”

Jardin suddenly screamed in his head < Fly! FLY!!>

What?

The three of them looked up and saw three pairs of jaws lined with sharp teeth above them.

AHHHHHHHH!!!

AHHHHHHHH!!!

AHHHHHHHH!!!

< AHHHHHHHH!!!>

Ron dove for the hole as Fluffy’s middle head lunged at them. It caught the trapdoor and tore it off its hinges. Harry pushed Hermione in then grabbed Jardin and jumped as the left head snapped at him.

“Ooof!”

Caw! Caw!

Jardin escaped Harry’s hold on him and flew upwards, hovering. Ron suddenly said, “Good thing this plant’s here.”

Plant? LOOK AT YOURSELF, MAN!!” screamed Niamh.

Ron jumped as vines shot out and wrapped themselves around him, Harry, and Hermione. Niamh was already caught in them.

“‘Old still, Ron! This thing’ll kill ye if ye don’t!”

“Kill me? Well, gee, thanks, Harry. That makes me feel so much better!

Harry scowled and looked at Hermione, who was trying to get her wand out.

“Hermione!”

“It’s Devil’s Snare, Harry! It doesn’t like fire!”

So start one!” yelled Niamh before a vine covered her mouth.

“How?” cried Hermione. “There’s no wood!”

ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!!” bellowed Ron and Harry together.

Oh! Lacarnum Inflamarae!

Flames shot out of her wand onto the plant, which pulled its vines back in, releasing them. Harry staggered up and over to Niamh, pulling her to her feet. Ron glared at Hermione and muttered, “No wood. No wood!

“Oh, shut up, Ron.”

Ron looked taken aback and Harry rolled his eyes. He snapped, “Come on! If Quirrell ge’s the Stone, we’re done fer!”

Ron snapped back into life and the four of them continued.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Hear that?”

“Wha’?”

“That flapping sound.”

“Na.”

“I hear it too.”

“It’s coming from up ahead.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Doan know. Le’s find out.”

The four of them suddenly walked into a lit chamber with a high ceiling that vanished into the shadows above them. And flitting about, their wings glittering, where hundreds of what appeared to be birds.

“I’ve never seen birds like this before,” breathed Hermione.

“They’re na birds,” said Harry, his sharp eyes picking out what the so-called ‘birds’ really were. “They’re keys.

“Keys?”

“Yeh.”

“So,” began Niamh.

“…one must fit that door!” finished Ron, earning a glare from Niamh and ignoring it as he pointed at the door across the room.

“But which one is it?” asked Hermione, looking up at the keys.

Ron and Niamh crossed to the door and peered at the lock for a moment before Niamh said, “We’re looking for a big, old fashioned one – probably silver!”

Harry looked then pointed up at one key.

“There! Tha’ one!”

“Harry! Broomsticks!”

Hermione pointed at two broomsticks that were hovering behind them. They must have missed them when they came in.

“We’ve got ter catch ‘im!” said Harry, rushing over to the brooms and grabbing one. Ron grabbed the other one and they both swung onto them, kicking off into the air. Hermione and Niamh watched them and they dove after the key, it always dodging away from them.

Harry yelled, “Ron! I’m goin’ ter go after i’! Ye come up under i’!”

Ron nodded and replied, “Gotcha, Harry!”

“Goo’. One, two, THREE!

Harry dove after the key, which flew quickly away. Ron flew below them then shot upwards but missed the key. Harry cursed then yelled, “Switch!”

Ron now dove after the key and Harry shot up from under it. He caught it in one hand, a nasty crunch accompanying it. The two of them landed and Harry shoved the key into the lock, twisting it. As the door swung open, he released it. The key flew off, looking much more battered than it already had.

Jardin suddenly appeared again and landed on Harry’s shoulder. He cast a disgruntled look at the raven and snarled, We could’ve used you back there.

< Sorry, Harry.>

Oh, it’s alright, Jar. Where were you, by the way?

< Trying to get away from that plant. It obviously did not know I am a pyromancer.>

You’re a pyromancer?

Jardin gave him that strange smile he did with his eyes.

< One of my many talents.>

You’re amazing, Jar.

< Yes, I know.>

Just don’t get too full of yourself.

< Me? Full of myself? Never!>

Harry laughed inwardly at the raven then turned his attention back to what was going on.

“Where are we now?” moaned Ron.

Niamh peered into the dark chamber they had walked into and replied, “I think it’s a graveyard.”

“Wha’ in tha’ bloody ‘eck would a graveyard be doin’ down ‘ere?”

< Graveyard? It doesn’t look like a graveyard.>

Niamh scowled and snapped, Shut up, Jardin.

Jardin made an indignant sound and Hermione looked at him then at Harry.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Ni jus’ insulted ‘im.”

“I did not!”

“Tha’s ‘ow ‘e see’s i’, Ni.”

“Well, bully to him. I want to know where in the sod we are!”

“A chessboard.”

“Pardon?”

Ron said louder, “It’s a chessboard.”

Light suddenly flooded the room and they could see that it was, indeed, a chessboard. A giant chessboard.

“Um…” began Niamh.

“We have to play our way across,” said Ron. “Hermione, you take the place of the queen side castle. Harry, you take the queen’s bishop. Niamh….the king side castle.”

“What about you?” asked Hermione.

“I’m going to be a knight.”

The aforementioned pieces moved back and they took their places. A white pawn moved forward onto the board and Niamh suddenly asked, “Ron, is this going to be like Wizard’s Chess?”

Ron frowned then ordered one of the black pawns forward. The white pawn cut it down and dragged it off the board ruthlessly. Ron gulped and said, “Yes, Ni, I think this is going to be exactly like Wizard’s Chess.”

Niamh swallowed, Hermione looked fearful, and Harry muttered, “I hope ye know what yer doin’, Ron.”

A few seconds later, the game began.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Niamh shrieked and ducked as the white queen took out the bishop that had been standing a few spaces to her left, spraying her with dust and shattered pieces. Harry yelled, “’Old on, Ni!” Niamh smiled weakly and looked up into the white queen’s face, shivering as she did so.

Ron studied the board for a moment then said, “I’ve got it.”

Harry blinked and looked at the pieces. Then it hit him.

“Ron, no!”

“What?” yelled both Niamh and Hermione.

“’E’s goin’ ter let ‘imself be taken!”

What!” shrieked Niamh.

Hermione yelled, “You can’t!”

Ron bellowed back, “It’s the only way!! You want to stop Quirrell, don’t you?

Harry nodded and said, “Alrigh’. Jus’ doan get yerself killed!”

Ron smiled weakly then moved forward. The white queen turned towards him and moved, bashing him over the head when she was close enough then dragging him off the board. Hermione shrieked and would’ve moved forward if Jardin hadn’t yelled at her.

Harry looked at Ron lying crumpled at the edge of the board and moved towards the white king. He snapped, “Checkmate!” The white king threw his crown down at Harry’s feet and he ran for Ron, followed swiftly by Hermione and Niamh. They all gathered around him, each looking worriedly at him.

Harry finally said, “We ‘ave ter go on. Niamh, ye stay ‘ere with ‘im. Hermione and me’ll go on.”

“Harry…”

No! Stay ‘ere. Ye hear me? Stay ‘ere.

Niamh cowered, a part of her mind noting how much Harry’s snapping voice resembled Snape’s. She nodded and Harry turned to Hermione, tugging gently at her sleeve. The two of them quickly headed off, leaving Niamh with Ron’s unconscious form.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Now wha’?”

“Well, the Devil’s Snare had to be Sprout, Flitwick would’ve done the keys, McGonagall the chessboard, so…that just leaves Quirrell and Snape.”

“A Sickle says Snape’s i’ potions.”

Hermione frowned at him and Harry shrugged slightly, causing Jardin to give a disgruntled cry from his shoulder.

“Sorry, Jar.”

< Quite alright.>

Harry shook his head then pushed another door open, reeling back instantly. Hermione moaned, “What’s that smell?”

“Troll,” replied Harry, remembering the smell from when he and Ron had rescued Niamh from the troll that had been loosed in the school. The two of them crept forward, inching past the troll with their nose’s covered. A huge lump was on the troll’s forehead, showing that they had no need to worry about it.

Harry pushed open the door and slammed it shut as soon as Jardin flew through. He gave a little shake then looked over at a table with seven bottles, each of a different shape and size.

“Snape,” said Hermione and Harry nodded. As they stepped into the room a fire sprang up behind them and in front of them, the flames glowing purple and black. Hermione suddenly noticed a roll of paper lying on the table. She picked it up and they both read it as Jardin landed on the table, cocking his head at the bottles.

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line,

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you move onward, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, thought different at first sight.

Harry groaned, “Logic. I ‘ate logic puzzles.”

“But they’re so simple, Harry!”

“I can’ get ‘im! I was ‘opin’ you did.”

“Lucky for you, I do.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and watched as Hermione peered at the bottles, looking down at the paper from time to time and pointing at some of them.

“I’ve got it!”

Harry arched an eyebrow and Hermione continued with a grin, “The smallest bottle will get us through the black flames and that rounded one there will get us back through the purple one’s.”

Jardin bumped the smallest bottle gently with his beak and said to Harry, < There’s only enough for one of you.>

“I c’n see tha’, Jar,” said Harry irritably. He then turned to Hermione and said, “Ye go back. Take Jar with ye and send ‘im ter Dumbledore. I’ll go on ahead an’ ‘old ‘im off as long as I c’n.”

“But if You-Know-Who’s with him…”

Harry pointed at his scar. “I was lucky once. Maybe I’ll ge’ lucky again. Now get on wi’ ye!”

Hermione picked up the rounded bottle then suddenly threw her arms around Harry, who jumped.

“Hermione!”

Hermione pulled back and said, “Be careful, Harry.”

Go!

With a nod, she downed the potion and shuddered. “It’s like ice.”

“Ge’ on. ‘Fore i’ wears off.”

“Harry…”

Go, Hermione!

Jar, go with her.

< But…>

Harry fixed the raven with a fierce scowl. No buts about it, you. You’re going with her and that’s that! Now go!

Jardin flapped over to his shoulder and nipped his ear then flew off after Hermione above the purple flames. Harry looked after them for a moment then turned towards the black flames. He drained the little bottle and suppressed a shiver as a cold like ice moved through his body. Stepping through the flames, he looked down a flight of stairs into the chamber and saw the person he had expected to be there.

“‘Ello, Professor Quirrell.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Hermione ran back through the room with the troll and into the chamber with the giant chessboard. Niamh had pulled Ron’s head up into her lap and was staring off into the distance until Hermione came charging in.

“Hermione? Wh-where’s Harry?”

“Going after the Stone. C’mon. We’ve got to go owl – I mean – raven Dumbledore.”

“Raven? Oh. Jar.”

Jardin landed on Niamh’s shoulder and said to her, < Do not worry about Harry, child. He will be fine.>

Niamh smiled slightly at the bird and replied, I hope your right. Then she turned to Hermione and said, “Let’s go.”

Hermione nodded and cast a spell on Ron that made him float after them as they ran back through the other chambers to the key room where they sent Jardin off with a hastily scribbled note on a scrap sheet of paper. As they waited there, watching Ron twitch slightly in unconsciousness, they prayed Harry would be all right.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Quirrell turned from the large mirror standing in front of him to face Harry, who remembered the mirror. He had found it on one of his nightly outings in the castle while trying to escape from Filch before he had his invisibility cloak. Dumbledore had found him there once and told him about it. And that he should not go in search for it.

“Mr. Potter. How did you know it was me?”

Harry moved down a few steps and said, “Well, ye tryin’ ter kill me a’ the Quidditch match was a dead giveaway, was’n i’?”

Quirrell smiled coldly and nodded. “Yes. I suppose it was. And I would have succeeded if your little friend hadn’t hit me with that curse. Even with Severus muttering his little countercurse.”

“Yeh. I saw tha’ too. Some people though’ ‘e was tryin’ ter kill me.”

Quirrell laughed and said, “A pity you didn’t, Potter.”

Harry shrugged.

“I’m na most people.”

“Yes, yes, how true. Severus made himself rather unpopular trying to keep me from you. And such a waste of time too. After all, I’m going to kill you tonight.”

Quirrell snapped his fingers and ropes sprang out of thin air to bind Harry.

“Nosy little Potter boy. Sneaking around on Halloween, much like Severus.”

Ye let the troll in.

“Yesss.”

“Ye nearly killed me frien’.”

“A pity.”

Harry scowled at Quirrell, who looked taken aback for a moment then turned to the mirror. He said, “Now, how does this mirror work? I see myself giving the Stone to my master. The question is, how do I get it?”

Use the boy…” said a low, hissing voice that seemed to be coming from Quirrell. Specifically, the back of his head. Harry narrowed his eyes at it and got a flash of pain through his scar for his trouble. Two things that had been troubling him suddenly snapped together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

“Come here, Potter!”

Quirrell snapped his fingers again and the ropes from Harry fell away. He walked slowly towards Quirrell, eying the other wizard warily. Moving in front of the mirror, he saw his reflection staring back at him, looking a tad fearful but also a bit arrogant. Suddenly his reflection dipped its hand into his pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone with jagged edges. A streak of white-hot shock shot through Harry but he didn’t show it on his face, keeping his expression as it was before. His reflection winked at him then tucked the stone back into his pocket. Harry cast a glance downward and saw a slight bulge. He had the Stone…

Quirrell frowned and snapped, “What do you see?”

Harry replied, “Me mum an’ da’.”

Quirrell’s lip curled in rage and he threw Harry away from the mirror, looking into it himself. The snake-like voice from earlier hissed, “He lies…

Potter!

Quirrell whirled upon him and bellowed, “Tell the truth!”

Let me speak to him…

“Master, you are not strong enough.”

I have strength enough for this…

Quirrell suddenly began to unwind his turban (which Harry considered perfectly hideous). Harry crept backwards away from him, not liking the feeling he was getting. The last wind of the turban fell away and he saw a face, a ghastly face with chalk white skin. A pair of glowing red eyes glared at him from above slits for nostrils – snake nostrils.

Harry Potter…” said the face.

Harry rose to his feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in his scar, and said, “Voldemort,” in a calm, cool voice.

Voldemort smiled. “Yesss. You see what I have become? A parasite who must live off another. Shadow and vapor since the last time we saw each other. All I need is the Stone that just so happens to lie in your very pocket to give me back my body.

Harry smirked and said, “Well, ye won’t be getting’ i’.”

Voldemort laughed.

Bravery. Your parents showed as such.

Harry scowled.

Don’t be a fool, boy. Give me the Stone…save your own life. Or, meet the same end as your parents. They begged me for mercy in the end, you know.

“Liar!”

Voldemort laughed, coldly, harshly.

Silly, boy. You can’t fight me. Certainly your father put up a fine fight but he died in the end. And your mother…why, she died to protect you. Surely you don’t want her sacrifice to be in vain. So, just give me the Stone.

Harry snarled, “In yer bloody dreams.”

SEIZE HIM!

Quirrell spun and leapt at Harry just as he turned and ran for the door. Flames sprang up quickly and he staggered back, not because of them, but because Quirrell had grabbed his arm in a vise-like grip. Harry clenched his jaw as pain shot through his forehead from his scar and swung around, punching Quirrell with all his might. The wizard’s head snapped to the right and he pulled away from Harry. Harry staggered on the steps, not knowing he had hit Quirrell that hard.

Then he saw the man’s fingers. They were bursting with bright red blisters before his eyes.

Voldemort shrieked again, “SEIZE HIM!! SEIZE HIM!!” Harry had no time to dodge as Quirrell lunged at him, tackling him to the floor. Pain from his scar blinded Harry for a moment then he felt Quirrell’s hands on his throat, tightening. Choking, Harry threw his hands up and grabbed Quirrell’s face, thanking God for giving him such long arms. Quirrell screamed in agony and Harry felt the skin blistering and peeling away under his fingertips. Voldemort’s yells made up the background noise along with the flames but Harry could only hear Quirrell’s screams and his own choking. Through his pain, the man was still choking him!

Suddenly Quirrell was thrown away from him and he heard a voice cry, “Avada Kedavra!” and saw a flash of familiar green light before the blackness that had been closing in on his vision took him in its embrace and he gladly fell into it.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“I think he’s waking up.”

Harry opened his eyes and had to blink several times in order to see clearly. A whirlwind of black hair and blue eyes suddenly threw itself upon him, crying, “Oh, God, Harry! I thought your were never going to wake up!”

Harry smiled weakly at Niamh and mumbled, “Sorry ter worry ye, Ni.”

Niamh’s eyes suddenly narrowed and she snapped, “You had better be.” Then she turned back into the cheerful girl he knew and cried, “I’m just so happy your back!”

“‘Ow long was I ou’?”

“Three days. Nearly everybody sent you something. Everyone knows what happened down there.”

“Eh?” Harry looked to the foot of the bed and saw a pile of candies sitting on a trolley.

“Goo’ bleedin’ gods. They sen’ the whole candy shop!”

Niamh grinned slyly and said, “Fred and George tried to send you a toilet seat.”

Harry looked at her then burst out laughing. Niamh continued grinning then joined him in laughing.

“Good afternoon, Harry, Miss O’Feir.”

“Professor!” cried both students and looked up into Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes. He held up a hand and smiled behind his long white beard.

“By no means stop because of me. Laughter is a wonderful thing, you know.” The twinkle in his eyes brightened as he continued, “Miss O’Feir, if you may leave for a moment. I wish to talk to Mr. Potter.”

Niamh nodded and hopped down from where she had been sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed. She squeezed his hand and mouthed ‘I’ll be back’ before turning and dashing out. Dumbledore smiled after her and said, “Such an energetic child, isn’t she?”

Harry nodded than asked, “Wha’ ‘appened, professor? Down in the chamber? Does Quirrell ‘ave the Stone?”

Dumbledore smiled and waved a withered hand. “No, dear boy, he does not. My old friend Nicolas and I had a little chat and we thought it was best if it was destroyed. And so it has.”

“Destroyed? But Mr. Flamel…”

“Has enough Elixir to put his affairs in order then, yes, he will die. But, as he quoted to me, ‘Death is but the next great adventure’.”

Harry frowned then forced a smile.

“I ‘spose…”

Dumbledore chuckled then said, “You did a very brave thing down there, Harry. Unfortunately, it almost killed you in the process.”

“Yeh. Sir? Who got me away from Quirrell? Somebody was down dere and threw’ im off o’ me.”

Dumbledore smiled. “I arrived just in time.”

“So, Jardin foun’ ye?”

A spark of surprise flickered in Dumbledore’s eyes then he said, “We must have crossed in midair. As soon as I got to the Ministry, I knew I was needed here. I returned as quick as I could. It was almost not quick enough.”

Harry nodded, storing the flicker of surprise back in his mind for latter looking over.

“An’ Ron?”

“Fine, perfectly fine. As well as Miss Granger and Miss O’Feir, whom you have seen.”

Harry nodded again, thinking. Then he said, “Sir, wha’ about Voldemort?”

“Ah, I was wondering when you would ask that.”

“Is ‘e gone?”

Dumbledore sighed. “I am afraid not, Harry. He is still out there somewhere – being not really alive, he can’t be killed. He left Quirrell to die, which shows you just how ruthless he is – willing to give up those who follow him without a thought. But, you have delayed his return to power and is there are others who succeed in doing that, then he may never return to power.”

Harry nodded again.

“An’ why could’n Quirrell touch me?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he said, “I believe you already know the answer to that, Harry.”

Harry smiled. He did. He knew it had something to do with his mother dying for him. Somewhere in a book he had read about that. Or heard it. That love left its own mark on a person, giving them a protection of their own, leaving no scar behind. Only protection, embedded in one’s own skin. It had hurt Quirrell horribly to touch him with that protection on him from his mother. After all, Quirrell had been sharing his soul with Voldemort.

Harry nodded then asked, “Wha’ about the invisibility cloak?”

“Ah, your father left that in my possession. I thought you might like it. It is such a useful item, is it not?”

Harry nodded then asked the question that had been bothering him for a while.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why di’ Voldemort wan’ ter kill me in the firs’ place?”

Dumbledore sighed and said, “Ah, the one question I cannot answer at this time.” When Harry looked like he was about to protest, Dumbledore continued. “One day, you will know. But not now. The truth should be treated with caution as it is a beautiful – and a terrible – thing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, professor.”

“Good.

Dumbledore rose to leave and was at the door when Harry asked, “‘Ow did I ge’ the Stone out o’ the mirror?”

“Ah, one of my more brilliant ideas. You see, only someone who wanted the Stone but did not want to use it, could get it. A very brilliant idea if I must say so myself…”

Harry smiled and said, “Thank ye, professor.”

“No trouble, Harry. No trouble at all. Now, get some rest or I fear Poppy shall be hounding you.”

Harry laughed as the old wizard left the Hospital Wing then leaned back onto his pillows. As he did, he thought, Now, how on earth did Dumbledore know we’d gone after the Stone if Jardin didn’t get to him?

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Another year, gone!” said Dumbledore said a few days later at the end-of-year feast. Harry and Niamh were sitting together at the Slytherin table, Jardin perched on Harry’s shoulder. The hall was decked out in Slytherin colors, which had all of the Slytherin’s grinning and Snape looking rather proudly at them.

“And what a year! Perhaps your heads are a little fuller than they were…even if you do get them nice and empty this summer…”

“Now, as I understand it, the House Cup needs awarding and the points stand as thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six points and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

Draco banged his goblet loudly on the table in the wave of cheering that broke from the Slytherin table. Harry and Niamh simply smiled.

But, there are a few last minute points I have to award.”

The hall fell silent quickly as soon as this was said.

“Firstly – to Mr. Ronald Weasley, fifty points for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years.”

Harry saw Ron turn a shade of brilliant crimson and gave his friend a wide grin as he heard Percy yelled, “My brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

“Second – to Miss Hermione Granger, fifty points for cool logic in the face of fire.”

Hermione buried her face in her arms as the Gryffindors whooped loudly. Niamh and Harry looked at each other, each suspecting she had burst into tears.

“Third – to Miss Niamh O’Feir, fifty points for braving great peril to stand by her friends.”

Niamh flushed and Harry grinned at her, Jardin flapping his wings in applause.

“And fourth – to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage…I award Slytherin House sixty points.”

Cheers exploded from Slytherin as they realized they still had the cup and had won by an amazing five hundred and eighty-two points. Harry looked up at the Head Table and saw a rather angry looking McGonagall shaking a smug Snape’s hand. On his shoulder Jardin cawed and said, < Well done! Well done!>

Harry beamed and hugged Niamh, who returned it and kissed him on the cheek as well, which caused him to flush pink. He then laughed and said to Jardin, Perhaps being in Slytherin isn’t so bad after all.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Alrigh’, le’s go! On the train with ye!”

Harry and Niamh dragged their trunks onto the train, waving at Hagrid before getting on, and settled into the first empty cabin they found. Ron and Hermione joined them a few moments later, smiling weakly at their friends. Niamh said, “Oh, c’mon, Ron. Don’t tell me your still angry about Slytherin winning the Cup.”

Ron frowned and Harry smiled at his friend as he stroked Jardin’s inky feathers.

“Ye’ll ‘ave next year, Ron, doan worry.”

Ron smiled weakly and nodded. The passed the trip back to King’s Cross playing Exploding Snap and wizard’s chess. They changed out of their Hogwarts robes into Muggle clothes as the green fields changed into occupied pastures and scattered houses, putting things back into trunks and getting ready to get off.

When they finally did, Niamh asked, “Harry, where are you going for the summer? Not back to Argil?”

Harry looked at her in surprise and shook his head.

“Na. Professor Dumbledore contacted me aunt and uncle. Apparently, I was ‘sposed to be wi’ them all these years.”

Hermione asked, “Why weren’t you?”

Harry shrugged. “Who knows?” He then looked at the three of them and asked, “Ye’ll write ter me over the summer, righ’?”

Niamh and Hermione flung their arms around him at the same time while Ron grinned at him.

“Of course!” said Hermione.

“Why wouldn’t we, mate?” asked Niamh with a grin.

“We’ll we writing you nonstop,” said Ron.

Harry grinned and said, “T’anks.”

“No problem, Harry,” said his three friends and they walked through the barrier back into the real world.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Hermione waved goodbye as she left with her parents, bouncing up and down so she could see Harry and Niamh. Ron had already gone before, Mrs. Weasley lingering long enough to hug his three friends and ask Harry if he wanted to come home with them. As much as Harry wanted to revisit the Burrow, the first wizarding home he had been in since perhaps his parents, he was returning to his aunt and uncle’s.

A stern-faced man came and dragged Niamh away, sneering at Harry as he went. Niamh twisted and waved back at him, her face twisted into a grimace. Harry waved feebly in return then felt a large hand fall on his shoulder. Looking up, he was a rather portly man with blond hair standing there.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked.

“Uncle Vernon?”

Vernon nodded and said, “Come along, boy. I’ll take your trunk.” And so he did. They walked out to his car and Vernon shoved the trunk into the boot, motioning Harry into the passenger seat. Harry climbed in then waited, reaching back into the backseat to stroke Jardin’s feathers through his cage. He hated caging the raven because he felt more like a friend than a pet, but it was necessary.

Vernon climbed into the car and then they were off. They didn’t talk on the way, not even Jardin and Harry talked.

When they arrived Harry got out and retrieved Jardin’s cage while Vernon pulled his trunk out of the boot. They walked up to the house and Vernon opened the door. As they entered, a bony, horse-faced woman walked out of the kitchen and leveled a wooden spoon at Harry.

“You. Back again, are you?”

Harry arched an eyebrow in surprise. Again?

The woman curled a lip at him, taking in Jardin’s cage in his hand and his long hair. She then snapped, “You’ll be sleeping in there.” Harry looked where she was pointing and saw….a broom cupboard. He felt outraged. They were making him sleep in a broom cupboard!!

“And I want to hear nothing about that freak school of yours. Nothing!

Harry nodded and said, “Yeh, Aunt Petunia.”

Petunia curled her lip at his accent then stormed off into the kitchen. Vernon looked worriedly at him then dragged his trunk away upstairs. Harry looked after him then at the broom cupboard. Sighing, he silently vowed not to let his horrid aunt, terrified uncle, and still unseen cousin push him around. Looking down at Jardin, he said, Well, looks like we’re home, Jar.

The End.
Chapter End Notes:
Continued in Not Myself: Year 2.

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