Chapter 29 - Childhood Drama

Stats as of last chapter:

Aubrey Hawthorne

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Level 24

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Age - 12

Race - Human

Sex - Female

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SP - 7,216

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Str - 32

Agi - 56

Dex - 45

Con - 41

Int - 49

Wis - 45

Luc - 40 (68)

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Skill Points - 20

Stat Points - 85

Perk Points - 3

I wake on Sunday rested but unhappy. I attempt to do some reading for a while before giving up trying to stay focused, regardless of my Perks, and get dressed to work out. At exactly six, I leave the Common Room and exit the castle through a courtyard towards the back that’s always open in the morning as it’s how Hagrid gets into the castle.

By the time I’m physically exhausted and my brain is blissfully empty, breakfast is over and I’m covered in sweat. I make my way back to my dorm, getting looks of disgust as students see and smell me, where I wash, change, eat a good bunch of the snacks I’ve been saving in my Inventory, and go to the Come and Go Room to wait for Daphne.

Hopefully a completely different sort of studying and conversation will clear my mind!

She comes in while I’m so deeply absorbed I don’t even notice until she’s neatly sat herself across from me. I slam my book closed.

“I assume this is because of Malfoy?” She guesses.

I grimace. “Yeah. And I upset Sarah. So things aren’t going well.”

“Well, I can’t help with your friend, but I can answer some questions you no doubt have about Malfoy, if you like.”

“Go ahead.”

“I didn’t realise until this morning what had happened. Right before I left the Common Room to meet you, I overheard Malfoy attempted to threaten Adrian Pucey.”

Without warning, I burst out laughing. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” she smirks. “Apparently he overheard Pucey and Cedric Diggory on their way to Potions last week talking about some content they were struggling with, and they joked that they’d just have you explain it, as your notes are too advanced in that section for them to grasp. Malfoy put two and two together and recognised their stack of notes-” she holds her own up “-as identical to mine.”

“Has he been pestering you about it?”

“Oh, he tried,” she brushes away. Her eyes are amused though, giving her away. “Much like you, I put him in his place. I expect he’ll try with you again though.”

“That's annoying.”

“Agreed. On that note, I think it’s time I get the next instalment as your Greek is on par with mine now.”

I grin. I’d forgotten we were at that point. “Absolutely. Third Year Charms, or Second Year Potions?”

“That depends on what you want me to teach you, I suppose.”

I muse it for a moment. “Dance. I have a lot on my mind, so getting up and doing something would be nice.”

“I’ll take Second Year Potions then. We can dance and then brew.”

I stand and the room brings an ancient record player in behind Daphne, a Muggle record I’ve not heard before starting up. I offer her my hand. “Come on then. We’ll take it in turns with positions like we did over the summer.”

.*****.

I’m up late that night, waiting for Sarah so we can at least say goodnight, perhaps allow me to apologise for scaring her. I’m reading An Introduction to the Greatest Muggle Minds by a Greek Muggleborn Wizard, letting me practice the language and get some Skills in the process, staying up past my midnight alert. In the end, I admit defeat and go to sleep without her.

I wake alone, as expected, and figure I may as well use the room since I have it. I do all the yoga I know, stretch, do sit ups and push ups, all the exercises possible from one room. I get a wash in the shower after, greeting the older girls as they’re doing their makeup in the bathroom mirrors.

Down at breakfast, I find Sarah has sat herself with Heather, Cho and Marietta between some Fourth Years. I sigh and take my seat with the First Years.

“What happened with you?” One of the boys ask.

I take some of the mixed fruit into my bowl and glance at him. “Just a small disagreement. Pass the orange juice.”

We spend the day pretending the other isn’t there, which is very strange for me as I’m constantly battling the immature urge to pull her away and beg her to talk to me. She doesn’t come to our dorm that night, or the next, or Wednesday night, nor Thursday. I see Sarah as she’s coming down the stairs from our room once, but she flushes red and runs off because I can even attempt to say a word.

Quietly, I set my alarm and take my long nap before Astronomy.

When the alarm goes off, I groggily swear about education boards thinking midnight classes are acceptable for children before getting dressed into my winter uniform. It isn’t too cold in the daytime yet, but up on the Astronomy Tower at night it can get awfully chilly.

I meet with the rest of the Second Years as they’re leaving through the seventh floor, taking a place by some of the boys who really don’t care for what they’re calling our “girl squabble,” catching a look of Sarah standing with Marietta, Liv and Cho. They’d eaten lunch and dinner together too.

Nothing had felt like a betrayal until this. Now I’m hurt.

We meet with the Gryffindors on the way up, quietly mingling. The Slytherins, the punctual ones at least, are already sitting on the floor of the classroom with their conjured cushions to sit on and little desks to save their backs. I had been just using good posture and a softening charm, but when they’d started doing this, I’d joined and taught a few of the Ravenclaws how to do the same. As it is, I conjure my cushion - accidently dark blue from my melancholy mood - and the desk next to Myron.

“Still being broody?” Myron asks quietly.

I grunt, opening my workbook to the correct page.

“Owens seems happy with her new friends. What a bitch,” Myron mutters.

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like you care.”

She chuckles under her breath, unfolding her larger than standard star chart. Mine is the same - I’d updated it from First Year, and it’s a great addition. I wonder about my situation as Professor Sinestra began her lecture whether the idea of the larger charts was Myron’s idea, or if they came from her other school.

We’re quiet for the remainder of the lesson, listening to a long lecture on the difference between magically identified and Muggle identified constellations. By the end of the lecture I’m wide awake and in need of something hot to drink. As everyone else is packing away, I make myself a cup of instant coffee and Myron some tea to take with her. It’s black, of course, but still feels good.

“Hey, Aubrey,” Jake calls from the top of the stairs, “you got some for us?”

“It’s coffee, Jake. You don’t like coffee.” I sip the hot drink, feeling it trail down to my stomach. “You should start carrying around tea bags to make yourself-”

“No thanks,” he shouts back, getting some laughs from his friends.

I roll my eyes, only to catch sight of Sarah and Liv having an intense conversation coming down the stairs besides me. I stay quiet, trying to listen in.

“-not fair, you know that,” Liv is saying.

“No, it is!” Sarah says back rapidly. “Just because you think it’s funny doesn’t mean -”

“God, you are still such a-” and they were out of my hearing range.

I get drawn into a discussion about our class by Chris who wanted to discuss my take on Muggle and Wizard constellations. When he isn’t making fun of girls for doing what he called “girly things” or talking about sports, he’s actually quite pleasant to talk to. Unfortunately, he liked to do those other things a lot.

We enter back into the Tower through the library door, and I stand with Chris and a few others finishing our discussion. Due to this, we’re all present when a fight breaks out downstairs.

We run over to the stairs where all the other Second Year Ravenclaws are gathered, looking down at Liv and Sarah who are both furiously glaring at each other.

“-oh, come on, Sarah,” Liv is saying, “you’re such a priss about everything, you know that? Just give it up.”

“No! You can’t just insult someone because they’re not doing good at something, it’s horrible!”

“If you weren’t screaming about it, he’d never have found out!”

“He should know what you think! You’re a fake friend!”

Liv laughed meanly. “Well, I’m not a Hufflepuff, so what does it matter? I’m not his friend in the first place, he’s-”

“You’re a bitch! I hate you! I’m glad I hit you at the start of the year, and if you don’t stop, I’ll do it again!” Sarah shouts.

I push through the crowd on the stairs, muttering apologise to people I nearly send down with me. As I’m trying to get closer to stop Sarah doing something that’ll get her months of detention, their argument escalates, bringing in me and how Liv hates me - though that isn’t a secret to our Yearmates, Liv has been quite clear since September - and then the grades of others around them. Sarah continues to argue that Liv is mean for what she thinks, and Liv maintains that she can make a joke about other peoples failours because it’s stupid they’re in Ravenclaw and “dumb”.

By the time I’ve elbowed my way to the fight, a lot of people are mad. I grab Sarah and pull her away, Liv following after her. Thankfully, Liv’s annoyed so many Ravenclaws that I can pull her away to the side where some others are there to comfort her, Cho included.

“Sarah!” Cho gasps. “Are you okay? What happened? I thought you two were friends now?”

I only barely stop my eyes from rolling.

“She’s a horrible bitch!” Sarah growls, eyes filling with angry tears. “I hate her! She just pretended to be my friend, she tricked me! She just wanted to talk crap about everyone else!”

“Who was she talking about?” Cho asks quickly.

“Chris,” Sarah cries miserably.

“What a bitch,” Cho agrees, and then gets lost in the crowd as more people come to find out the full story.

I stand by her and try not to feel awkward as it becomes clearer no one is sure if I should be here. It makes me feel like I shouldn’t be here too. I mean, sure, I feel confident in how I can fight and what my body can do, but social situations with friends are still a bit difficult. I really need to up my Etiquette and other social Skills. What use is knowing what fork to use when I’ve accidentally scared my friend?

Things are put to an end when the Prefects come down from upstairs, angry for being woken on a cold Thursday night. Everyone scampers off to their rooms, and, as Sarah is about to go off down the stairs with the others, she’s called out to by Archer Smith, the Fifth Year male Prefect.

“Oi! It’s a weekday, no sleepovers, Owens. Christ, children…” Archer grumbles.

I wait for Sarah as she uncomfortably follows me and the Penelope Clearwater up the stairs to our dorms. At our dorm, I go in first and take a seat on my bed. I need to talk to her, and this is the best chance I have.

Sarah trails in and quietly closes the old wooden door, the bronze hardware clicking closed. After a few seconds tick by, then looks up at me and holds her breath.

“Can we talk?” I gently ask. “Please?”

She slowly nods and sits on the edge of her bed. “Sure. What about?”

Typical thirteen year old, utterly out of her depth. I’m at least braver than that. “About day. Look, I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have dragged you down to the dungeons with me after you said you didn’t want to go, I wasn’t thinking about what you needed nearly enough. I promise to listen better going forward.”

She nods slowly but doesn’t offer up any words, just begins to pick at a nail.

I feel the need to keep talking. “Um, I don’t know if I upset you in another way, but if I did, I’m sorry. I think I maybe upset you more by trying to talk to you when you didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to not try.”

“It’s okay,” she mutters. It’s more of an English way of saying she’s heard me than an actual forgiveness though. “I, er, guess I was… it was scary. What happened with the Baron. I honestly didn’t understand a lot of it and had to ask Professor Flitwick, and Heather and Cho. It was really bad stuff, and it scared me you knew about it.”

I nod, drawing up my legs and crossing them. “To be clear, in case it wasn’t, I don’t agree with anything the Bloody Baron said. I hate him, but I shouldn’t have let my anger take control of me. I need to work on my anger from now on, I know, so that I don’t burst like that again. It just made me so mad when I found out he’s been making kids be supremacists for centuries, I just couldn’t contain it. Still, it was never my intention. I figured, even if he was scary to us students, the school wouldn’t have an evil ghost in the castle around us.”

She sighs and looks at me. “I know. I knew it too, I was just scared.”

I smile very slightly. It’s starting to feel like Sarah converted all that fear of the situation into anger of me, which makes a lot of sense. “Do you want me to stop talking about the time travel stuff? I’m happy not to if it would-”

“No, no,” she interrupts me. “I’m okay with it. And I haven’t told anyone.”

“I didn’t think you would. I doubt anyone would believe it anyway, it’s crazy.”

She cracks a smile. “It is. But I do believe you. It all just got a lot for a while there.”

“Were the other dorms just, you know, calmer?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “I wanted to pretend like it wasn’t happening for a while, I suppose.”

I nod. “I get that. I don’t think I’d cope well if I were you, let alone believe it!”

“It was nice,” she nods.

“So how did you and Liv become friends?”

She grimaces and grabs her pyjamas, and I grab mine. Practised moves take us to opposite sides of the room to change facing away from each other. “Well, I was staying with Heather and Cho in their room, which was fine. We switched sharing a bed so someone got to sleep alone every third day, and the others found out really fast that I wasn’t staying with you, obviously. Liv actually came to me at lunch two days ago and we just spoke about class, and just kept talking I guess. I never really thought of her as a friend, but she was being nice, so I didn’t say anything. She started saying we were friends now though, and I didn’t mind as long as she was nice now, but then tonight she started saying mean things about Chris’ grades in Astronomy trying to say it was a joke.” We finish dressing at the same time and get into our beds. I cast a Wordless and Wandless teeth cleansing charm on myself before tucking in. “Now I guess she’s going to say mean things about us again.”

I shrug. “If she says anything mean to you, just don’t hit her okay?”

Her face flushes. “I wasn’t really going to do it. I just wanted to - well, I was just being mean. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“I’m glad. I was worried you’d get in trouble. If you want, we can visit Professor Flitwick on the weekend and talk about everything together? I’ll make sure to include you more so if you’re ever confused, we can talk about it more so you can know. I really want a friend to be with me through all this, so it’s really nice you’re here, but I don’t mind if you ever just want to not talk about it. Just being my friend is enough.”

“Thank you, Aubrey,” her voice flutters. “I’m tired.”

“I know. Go to bed.”

.*****.

That Saturday, Sarah wakes me joyfully, which is the mood she's been in ever since Friday morning when we woke up together.

“Wake up!” Sarah demands, jumping onto my bed.

I groan and pull my covers over my face in a petulant manner. “Bugger off.”

“Nope! Come on, we have all day to be together! And it’s Gryffindor versus Slytherin to start Quidditch off! I’m so excited!”

“I hate Quidditch,” I glare into my eyelids. “Go with the others.”

“Oh, come on. Harry Potter’s going to be playing as Seeker for the first time! Even you have to be excited for that. Please will you come?”

I throw the sheet back and it nearly whips her in the face. Still she grins down at me. “Fine. But you can never ask me to come to-”

She shouts her joy and jumps off of me, going to her wardrobe to look for something to wear. “Yes! I promise, as soon as you watch a match you’ll love it! I’ve never liked any sports before Quidditch either.”

“I like sports fine, I like running, yoga and swimming, and dance is a lot like a sport. They say Pool is a sport too, though it isn’t exactly a strenuous one.”

“You read weird stuff,” Sarah rolls her eyes, pulling out some thick leggings to go under a thick winter dress she’d picked already. “You should read a novel or two. I know we’re Ravenclaws, but still.”

I roll my eyes and get up, gathering some running clothes. “Yes, well, I think I’ll go for my run and meet you in the Great Hall, how’s that? I swear I’ll be in time for the match!”

She calms, obviously about to worry about that. “Good. I’ll be with Heather, Cho and Marrietta.”

I get dressed and leave her, which she is happy with. The only reason she’s up early is because she’s decided she’s got a crush on Chris, and he’s decided he has one on her, so they’ve been looking at each other at meals and avoiding talking to each other. It’s quite funny to watch.

Once I’m ready, Sarah is still messing with her makeup so I go off, running down steps and out of the castle without running into anyone, as is usual. To imagine only a week has gone by since I argued with the Bloody Baron! Hopefully I’ll get to see Professor Flitwick later and see if he has anything to say about what's being done about him.

As I’m running up to the lake to run on the edge of it - I don’t have time to go the whole way - I think about my Quests. Everything to do with class and grades has been Completed or is on task to Complete fully, as usual, but my other ones have been sitting stagnant. The Curse in the Green Grass has been sitting stagnant for months. I’ve just been making my friendship with Daphne clear to her and that’s been all, though I suspect I’ll be keeping it up. Daphne never has any bad words about her family, and she sometimes speaks fondly of her sister Astoria, who sends her regular letters. I haven’t taken a certain stand either way as far as the Quest goes quite yet, but there isn’t anything that makes me feel like I need to go against them yet, which is telling as to what I’ll probably do.

I haven’t glanced at Help Harry in First Year in weeks, so as I come up on the large tree at the edge of the lake the older students always lie beneath on hot days, I pull it up.

Quest Alert -

Help Harry in First Year

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Objectives -
Don’t let him die in First Year

See the Mountain Troll incident first-hand (Completed)

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Bonus Objectives -

Defeat the Mountain Troll yourself! (Failed)

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Rewards -

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Bonus Rewards -

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Failure -

Harry Potter will die

Knowing there had been an option to defeat the troll myself is strange - on the one hand, the gods and life itself obviously want to test Harry, and if he doesn’t learn to deal with at least most of it himself, he’ll never be able to do it.

‘It’s not that I want to be cruel to him, quite the opposite,’ I think to myself. I want the boy to grow so he can cope with what's coming. Life is clearly not going to be nice to him.

On the other hand, I want to protect him. He’s a child, a boy, and he doesn’t deserve this. It’s quite cruel of the gods to do this, but I know as well as anyone how cruel they can be. I have no choice but to aid his learning.

I slow my sprint, breathing deeply as I look over the lake. I need to help him and I haven’t so far. It’s time I do something about it.

I sprint back to the castle so I have time to rinse the sweat from my body. I expect Sarah is almost at breakfast and she’ll be angry with me if I’m too late, so I rush down to meet her.

I sit besides Cho, who along with Heather has welcomed me back into the fold as if nothing had happened, just as the Gryffindor team comes into the hall with little Harry in the centre of them.

“He looks terrified,” I comment, taking a shiny green Granny Smith and tapping my wand against it. It tumbles into bite sized cubes for my yoghurt.

“I’m sure he’s just nervous,” Cho says reassuringly. “He’ll be fine, I heard his friend Ron Weasley say he’s the best flyer to ever come to Hogwarts.”

“Yes, well, he would say that,” I roll my eyes.

Without any more preamble, the girls start gushing over and over analysing every aspect of every player, and I tune them out. While there’s so much cheer and excitement, I write out small letters to my study group friends and send them off, each landing on the table in front of their recipient. Angelina’s and Alicia’s both have messages of good luck, as they’re playing their first ever competitive Quidditch game. Neither tlook at all nervous, in fact, Alicia is leading a lot of the rowdy cheering at the table, encouraged massively by the Weasley twins.

The two teams, Gryffindor and Slytherin this year to begin, stand up at the same moment, creating an excited rush as everyone gathers snacks from the table and gets up to walk down to the pitch with the teams.

Heather excitedly shakes my shoulder. “Come on, come on, we need to go!”

I nod, stepping around her to avoid getting pushed about any more. We meet up with Cho, Marietta and Sarah by the front doors to the castle, where Sarah appears besides me.

“No funny business,” she commands.

“Take me away officer,” I say jokingly, holding out my hands as though to be cuffed.

She grabs my wrist and begins dragging me through the crowd. “The game starts in thirty minutes. If you want a covered seat we’ll have to hurry!”

I chuckle. “I’ll just cast waterproofing charms on us. No need to rush!” I tell her, keeping the pace to a polite walking speed. “We have plenty of time.”

She shakes her head vigorously. “No, absolutely not! In events like this, good things don’t come to those who wait!” She exclaims and begins to pull me harder, basically dragging me into a jog through the crowd.

I could resist, but there’s no point, really. If she’s this worked up, it’d just wind up causing more issues than it fixes. Instead, I focus on not getting an elbow in the face from some annoyed upper year student who Sarah is pushing out of the way.

Though I’m not sure if Sarah and the other girls deserve it, we get to the stands before a lot of the other students, so we’re able to get good seats. I pick a spot one-down from the highest seats and in the middle, near the aisle. I always do like to get an aisle side seat, as if anything were to happen, I want to have a clear exit. When I’d had young children - or been a young child myself in this life - and I went to the theatre with them, it was also a good idea as it always meant I could get them to the bathroom if I had to mid-performance.

“So what are we meant to do while we wait?” I ask them.

“We can play a game!” Sarah chirps.

“Of?”

She deflates. “I don’t know, do you have any on you?”

“Nothing I want getting lost in the stands.”

“Oh, oh!” Cho grins, getting all our attention. “I heard about this Muggle game some First Years were on about, where you clap hands! Look, look, I’ll show you.”

What commenced was Cho attempting to show us what Pat-a-Cake is, which we only worked out when Sarah had a brainwave. I’ve never played the game, but Sarah has, and shows us all several versions that has us switching seats around to play with each other and see how fast we can do the moves without messing up. Meanwhile on the other stands, the Gryffindors were obviously exceptionally excited to see Harry play and up in the top row, some students had made a banner out of what looked like a bedsheet with a few holes in it, flashing the painting “Potter for President” in obnoxious colours. The Slytherins were sitting neatly among themselves and between games with my friends, I spy Draco Malfoy in the seats right in the middle of the crowd by his hair. I can’t see exactly who’s around him though, as they’re far too far away.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Hogwarts!” A voice booms from the other side of the stands. “Are we ready to play some Quidditch?”

A full roar of cheers rage through every stand in such a cacophony, I cover my ears.

“Excellent! First things first, I’m Lee Jordan, the new commentator, the very one and only, supporting Gryffindor of course!”

The distinguishable voice of Professor McGonagall is clearly heard saying, “Mr Jordan, you will be impartial if you want to be the commentator.”

“Of course Professor, I am, I swear. Anyway, if you look down at the Slytherin lockers, the snakes are coming out now, with Marcus Flint as Captain-”

Jordan, a boy I know only as a friend of the Weasley twins and nearly as much trouble as them, continues to say the names of each player for the team, but I tune a lot of it out. The Gryfindors boo at the rival team, and when it’s time for Gryffindor to come out, the roles reverse. I roll my eyes and look down at Harry, the tiny dark haired boy besides Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Captain. The two teams are gathered in the centre of the pitch, strolling along so slowly I start to feel frustrated just watching how slow they are from this height. It takes some time for them to get to the point of mounting their brooms.

And finally, fifteen brooms rise up, high into the air. They were off.

I’m still not that entertained, but on the upside, I remember I have a lemon tart in my Inventory and pull it out to eat, since not one person is going to notice. It’s really good.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-”

“Jordan!”

I grimace into my tart, agreeing with the Professor. Not only is Jordan’s commentary already unsavoury, but also really demeaning! I know Angelina wouldn’t like that type of attention, especially not on her first match in front of the whole school. It’s disgusting.

“Sorry, Professor. And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he’s going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle - that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by Slytherin - that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she’s really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goalposts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins, and my attention is as good as broken. It’s freezing, I don’t like the commentator, I’ve finished my tart, and this could take hours.

The only thing keeping me in my seat is the fact some of my friends are playing and I owe it to Sarah to stay.

My eyes follow Harry around from up above us, where he’s come to a stop after doing some laps around the pitch. A Bludger goes after him but he just moves very slightly to the side and it misses him. It’s intriguing, because to me, it seems almost like he wasn’t scared of the things. I had assumed, given the obvious abuse he’s suffered, he’d be scared of being hurt. Instead, his actions seem to say he isn’t scared of getting hurt.

My watching is broken, only when the boy dives towards the ground, and I realise, as my heart jumps in my chest, that he’s spotted the Snitch.

By the boys side is Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, and every eye, even the other players, stare at them fixedly. I hold my breath, gasp as I see Flint diving in from the side, and Harry, who had his hand outstretched, pulled up so sharply I cry out thinking he’s got to have broken a bone from the speed he does it at.

As Harry flies off in another direction, going in circles as his fancy broom and physics protest Flints actions, the Gryffindors start screaming about it being a foul.

“Was that a foul?” I gasp out.

“I don’t know!” Sarah yells over the noise. “It might be!”

It takes Madam Hooch, the referee, only a moment to order the players around, at which point it becomes obvious Gryffindor are getting a free shot.

Lee Jordan’s commentary finally reaches the insides of my skull- “After that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-”

“Jordan!” Growls Professor McGonagall.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul-” I snort a laugh. He’s at least right in pointing it out for what it is!

“Jordan, I’m warning you-”

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble-”

I barely pay attention to it, watching Harry like a hawk instead to make sure he doesn’t have another player try to get him killed. My breath catches as I see a Bludger come flying towards his head, which he as good as glances at before moving slightly and ignores the thing! Then, I watch open mouthed, as he starts to lurch the broom and almost sends himself flying head over heels.

“What’s he doing?” I shout, pointing.

Several others look up, thinking the Snitch must be there, and shout in horror with me as we see Harry’s broom begin to revolt and Harry holding on for dear life.

“He’s not doing that,” I breathe, eyes wide. Christ, I’m going to get my first accidentally Failed Quest, I think, before thinking quickly about what could do this to a broom.

The other stands catch on when Harry begins turn over and over, flying up higher above us. Clearly it has to be some sort of Jinx or curse to get him killed, or let Slytherin win, but I know his broom is exceedingly expensive and well made, so it can’t be a student surely.

I look around the stands at the students I have bolded the names of, looking around wildly, but each is pointing or shocked, or I can’t see them from so far away. Jordans voice brings my gaze and it’s then, very suddenly, I swear and run from my seat.

I leap down the stairs and around the pitch towards the professors’ stand - I had seen Professors Snape and Quirrell staring up at Harry, eyes locked and speaking incantations. One of them has to be the person Jinxing the broom, if not the both of them!

I get around the pitch to the direct opposite side at the same time I see Hermione Granger leaping up the stairs to the professors. Biting my lip, I follow behind her, disillusioning myself as I go.

I follow Granger up to teachers, where Hermione keeps going up to where Professor Snape’s robe is visible, always a bit longer than everyone else's. She clearly thinks he’s the reason this is happening, so I’ll deal with Professor Quirrell.

I cast “Lentum,” a simple sticking charm that would keep both Professors Snape and Quirrell in place. With them secured for the moment, and Harry not yet fallen, I wait to see what Granger’s little fire on Professor Snape’s robe will result in, peeking out a crack in the wooded stand up at the boy. Granger rushes past my disillusioned form and just as she’s out of my hearing range, Professor Snape shouts out and his incantations are broken.

Harry instantly gets more out of control and the stadium becomes a panic.

Barely thinking, I snap my gaze to Professor Quirrell's shoes and use a Stinging spell to break his concentration, and instantly, Harry’s pulling himself back onto his broom.

Growling to myself, I Observe Quirrell and dash out of the professor's stand, as no doubt those in there will be coming down to end the game and I don’t want to get caught in the middle of it. I get as far as the Hufflepuff stand, which is between Ravenclaws and the professors - the four Houses are on each ‘edge’ of the oval pitch, so to speak, with the Professors stand on one side with it’s back to the Forbidden Forest - before cheers go up and the Snitch has been caught out of the air by Harry.

I slow and wait at the bottom of the Ravenclaw stand for Sarah, and when I see her, I snatch her hand and pull her into the pitch student bathroom and lock the door with a complex spell.

“We need to talk about that,” I hiss. “It was Professor Quirrell!”

“What?” She gasps. “What do you-”

“That’s where I went, I saw Professor Snape and Quirrell casting incantations on Harry or his broom, or whichever it was! I got up to the professor's stand and the Granger girl from Gryfindor, the one that hangs out with Harry you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She got ahead of me and cast Professor Snape’s robes on fire, stopping his spell.”

“Snape was trying to kill Harry Potter?” She gasped, taking a step back out of horror.

“No, no, Quirrell was. When Granger stopped Professor Snape, Harry got even more out of control, so I stung Quirrell and it stopped!”

“Oh my god,” Sarah breathed, holding onto the porcelain sink. “He was trying to kill him. We have to tell someone. We need to tell the police!”

“We have Aurors, not police, but it doesn’t matter, I agree. Come on, let’s get Professor Dumbledore, his office is closer than the Owlery anyway.”

We rush from the crowds and get ahead of most of them, and I’m able to drag her as far as past the greenhouses before she begs me to slow down.

Walking quickly for her sake, I think about why Quirrell would want him dead. I remember his profile, of course:

Quirinus Quirrell

Titles - Professor, Adventurer

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Level ??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Age - 24

Race - Human

Sex - Male

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Str - ??

Agi - ??

Dex - ??

Con - ??

Int - ??

Wis - ??

Luc - 0

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HP - ??

MP - ??

SP - ??
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perks -

Master of Defence

Master of Muggle Studies

Master Duellist

??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disadvantages -

Anxious

Uncertain Morals

??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite gaining a remarkable and respectable position teaching the young Wizards and Witches of Britain in Hogwarts as a professor, Quirinus Quirrell has a great amount of doubt in his heart. Raised by parents on opposite sides of the Wizarding War, he was exposed to two desperately differing political and moral views that now leave him constantly anxious over his place in the world. Still, he believes in the process of exploration to learn matters of the heart, and intends to continue until he feels at peace

He is unaware of you, having only seen you in the halls a handful of times

I had thought then he was a conflicted but harmless man, but clearly, despite seeming to be on the Lighter side of the argument, I’m wrong. I pull up the Observation I took at the stand to compare it to last years:

Quirinus Quirrell

Titles - Professor, Adventurer, Quaestor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Level ??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Age - 25

Race - Human

Sex - Male

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Str - ??

Agi - ??

Dex - ??

Con - ??

Int - ??

Wis - ??

Luc - 0

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HP - ??

MP - ??

SP - ??
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perks -

Master of Defence

Master of Muggle Studies

Master Duellist

??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disadvantages -

Oathbound

Compelled

Damned

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quirinus Quirrell is one of the few Wizards that achieve their dream of finding inner peace. His search for his moral compass, a purpose to life, an answer to which parent to follow was all achieved in one single moment in Albania when he came in contact with (Hidden). Not long later he was offered the Hogwarts position of Defence Against the Dark Arts, a prime place to start his journey alongside (Hidden) to get (Hidden) for (Hidden)

He believes you to be an arrogant and foolhardy Half-blood that thinks too highly of herself, but does not consider you a threat to (Hidden) so overall does not care for you

I growl to myself, utterly annoyed I’d never suspected the man. It’s not unusual for someone so young, born into a war with his parentage, to have the Uncertain Morals Disadvantage, so I’d never thought about it! After all, he’s working for Professor Dumbledore as the Muggle Studies teacher - I thought it fair to assume he was falling further for the Lighter side than the Dark.

Clearly I was wrong. So what does Quirrell gain from Harry dying?

I sigh frustratedly as I think back on Hallowe’en, when he came running in and fainted backwards - he’d been running forwards, practically about to fall over, only to faint backwards. I hadn’t considered Quirrell, so I hadn’t considered that action before now but… He was faking it. He had to make himself go backwards, so he didn’t really faint! And then the Troll was never in the dungeons. He must have let it in!

Did he do this just to create panic? What does he get from mass panic and poorly educated students?

Both lower the credibility of Hogwarts, I guess, and they lower the Governors and Headmasters credibility at the same time. It seems strange to work so hard to get a job at one of the most influential and powerful magical schools in the world only to make the final move of the plan tampering with a broom. Of course, it may be that he wanted to hurt lots of people at once, and killing a child in front of so many other children would do that.

Or it could be that it was Harry Potter specifically. It would have also lowered the credibility of the headmaster, who is seem by most as the leader of the Light prolical fraction - so was it perhaps some new Dark Wizard trying to become the next Dark Lord, or a follower of his?

Harry’s friends assuming Professor Snape was the one at fault does strike me as worrying though. What has he done to gain their suspicion? Purely him being a former Death Eater, his actions in class or something else? Granger seems the type that would cry in his class. They certainly aren't thinking it through though, what does he gain? He would get vindication for whatever grudge he has against Harry, as I do know the two have had some arguments and some detentions and Points have been had between them. For all I like him as a good student that hasn’t made mistakes in my work, I know he can be petty and vindictive to others, but I’ve never witnessed him to be downright evil in class.

Grinding my teeth, I go frustratingly slowly through a secret passage I remember from the map as taking us closer to the Headmasters office, only to stop.

I don’t have any proof but what I saw. The only ones that would have proof would be the other professors sitting with them, and I doubt they saw anything, as not one of them had taken actions to stop Quirrell.

I swear darkly and Sarah gasps. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“What is it, why have we stopped?”

“I don’t have any proof.”

“What do you mean, you saw him?” She frowns.

“Yeah, but it’s just my word. I don’t have anything to show for it.”

She chews her lips and hesitates over a response. “We can still tell Dumbledore though.”

It’s my turn to hesitate. “Will it help though?” I ask. “I mean, he isn’t really helping now.”

She shook her head. “No way.”

“What about the third floor? He doesn’t have to keep anything in the castle if it’s dangerous, so why…” My eyes widen. “That's it! The third floor! I never told you, but there’s a Cerberus in that hall! It’s guarding something important!”

“What?”

I grin at her confusement. “A three headed dog is in the third floor restricted area. I followed the Weasley twins thinking they’d get killed if they didn’t have someone with them, and we found it. It’s guarding a trapdoor, so obviously, whatever’s under that door has to be really important. And it wasn’t here last year, so whatever it is, it’s influencing Quirrell to act! Otherwise he could have hurt someone last year, right?”

“Right,” she catches up. “What would be in there that would make him want to kill Harry Potter, though?”

“I doubt it has anything to do with Harry, it’s just that it's making him greedy and evil. Maybe it’s something Dark or powerful, or related to You-Know-Who.”

“Okay, so why can’t we tell Dumbledore this?”

“Becuase if Dumbledores stupid enough to keep a Cerberus on top of a trapped door in the middle of a school, he’s stupid enough to keep it there. We need to take it to someone else.”

“Professor Flitwick,” Sarah nods determinedly.

I nod back and take off, her running behind me.

We arrive while the party is already in full swing, which is just as excited as when we ourselves won our games last year. Professor Flitwick is talking to a group of students already, but knowing what I do, I rush up to him and interrupt, “Professor, I need your help!”

He jumps, startled, and nods when he sees it’s me. “Of course, Miss Hawthorne, I’ll meet you in my office in just a moment.”

I go through, where me and Sarah take seats on the sofa where many of our talks have happened. It may be more professional to sit at the desk but I plan on going to professor Flitwick for all my related issues, so why not be comfortable.

That in mind, I turn to Sarah in the quiet office. “Are you okay? If you’re feeling overwhelmed by anything, you’re welcome to leave and I’ll tell you what he says later.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head. “I saw what happened too. I - it’s different than before. The Bloody Baron was just really scary, and the type of things he was saying were so weird, and the other stuff was just a lot to take in. But I saw this. I’m scared, but we have to, you know?”

I smile softly. My friend is trying hard, I can see, to be the mature young lady she’s growing into, but I can see her anxiety anyway. I gently squeeze her hand. “Well, it’s okay if you need to step out or if it gets too much. Just say and I promise I’ll tell you everything later when it’s not as crazy.”

She nods but doesn’t reply.

We don’t have to wait a long time for Professor Flitwick to come in, bustling on his little legs to the stack of chairs he climbs to sit across from us. From there, he sends spells around the office to ward it from anyone listening in before pushing his glasses up on his nose and levelling me with a look. “Start from the beginning, Miss Hawthorne.”

“It’s connected to the Troll incident on Hallowe’en sir. Not my travelling in time,” I specify, “but just as important. Do you remember that Professor Quirrell was the one to warn us of the Troll?”

As I relay my story, telling him of my suspicions his faint was faked from his body language, the way the Troll was not near the dungeons at all when it was discovered by the First Years, the way a Mountain Troll isn’t native to this part of the country - along with the fact they are only transported in illegally and there are a few loose known Mountain Trolls far from Hogwarts, but no breeding pairs - before going in about the Quidditch game today. He had been told of the game by the other students that got to the Common Room before us, but I tell him off Hermione Granger, looking at Harry through the stand and the incantations I witnessed.

“Professor Quirrell,” Professor Flitwick says slowly, “began working here two years ago, in the subject of Muggle Studies. After two school years in the position, he was transferred to Defence, and as a twenty-four year old that is quite the achievement. He travels often, enjoys finding Wizarding artefacts, and was a good student in this very House. He was my student in fact, and I taught him entirely through Hogwarts. To say he is an attempted murderer, roaming free at this moment, is incredibly disturbing. And for Professor Snape, I agree with your analysis, he was also a student of mine, a very talented one at that. I know he’s had a difficult past which you likely know of, but he is trustworthy.”

“I know you might not want to believe me sir,” I say slowly, politely, thinking. “Honestly, I never expected you to believe a thing I said from the start. But I am certain. I know there’s a Cerburus on the third floor-”

He squeaks and nearly topples from his chair. “How do you know that?”

I recount that tale also, before continuing. “I don’t know what he’s guarding, but it has to be something the Headmaster wants very close to him, but that the Headmaster has something wrong with him to think keeping that creature so accessible to children!”

Sighing, professor Flitwick removes his glasses, rubs his eyelids, and replaces them. “That is not something I can discuss with students.”

“Can you just add more defences, or try to get him to move it? If Quirrell’s motive is getting to whatever is being hidden in the castle, removing it would negate the issue.”

“If he wanted what the Cerburus is guarding,” Sarah interrupts slowly, “why try to kill Harry Potter?”

“A distraction? It could be related to You-Know-Who, or Harry himself. I don’t know what it is so I don’t know,” I say. “I just know what I saw, and I assume Quirrell changed because Harry’s now here!”

“You don’t need to worry over what’s being guarded,” Professor Flitwick firmly tells us. “There are multiple defences in place, including by myself and multiple other professors. The object is quite safe.”

My eyes widen. “Did Quirrell help with the defences?”

He freezes for half a moment and then answers with a simple, “He did. Perhaps… I’ll ask the Headmaster when we’re finished. Regardless of what Professor Quirrell may or may not have done, I can adjust my defence accordingly.”

I nod but sag. “I just wish I could give you more evidence. All I have is my word, and I know Granger saw some of it but she thinks it was Professor Snape. I just… how can I prove it? I have nothing.”

He thought for a time. “The only viable option I can think of that would help us corroborate your story is to witness your memory ourselves. Girls, have either of you ever heard of a Pensieve before?”

We glance at each other and shake our heads, leaning in to learn this new information.

“A Pensieve is an extremely rare and valuable item, only used by the most privileged of Wizards. Memories are extracted by a person, such as yourself Miss Hawthorne, and then placed in the Pensieve. Any person can then watch that memory to view it for themselves. There are discrepancies that make it somewhat unreliable, such as a person's ability to tamper with the magic of extracting a memory, people’s memories fading, a person not seeing the thing others wish to watch, and a few other varieties. But, by your account, if we were able to extract that memory, we’d then be able to view it.”

“How do I extract a memory?”

“It’s a difficult spell, so I will instruct you now, as this is a serious matter. Miss Owens, as you have not witnessed the same things Miss Hawthorne did, you will not be able to help and I’m afraid I cannot tutor you right now. Please leave the room. I’m sure Miss Hawthorne will find you when she’s finished.”