Little Black Sheep

Chapter Twelve: Under the Turban
The person who stood in front of us was none other than Professor Quirrell himself.
“You!” Harry gasped.
“Me,” His voice was stutter free and casual, “I wondered whether or I’d be meeting you here, Potter. And such a delightful surprise, you brought her with you.”
Quirrell had a grin on his lips. His face was smooth and didn’t quiver at all.
“No, it can’t be you! We thought it was Snape-“ I cried out, but Quirrell interrupted me.
“Severus?” Quirrell chuckled, it was firm and icy, unlike his nervous giggle from before, “Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an over-grown bat. Next to him, who would expect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?” He mocked his own stutters and I gaped at him unbelievably. Snape couldn’t be the good guy!
“But he tried to kill Harry!” I yelled at him, afraid that I was wrong.
“Silly girl.” He tutted, “No, no, no, I tried to kill him. Your friend Miss Granger accidently knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match.” A replay of the memory ran through my mind, why didn’t I see it before? “She broke my eye contact with him. Another few seconds and I’d have got Harry off that broom. I’d have managed it before if Snape hadn’t been muttering a countercurse, trying to save him.”
“Trying to save me?” Harry sputtered incredulously.
“Of course,” Quirrell said with a wicked smile on his face, “Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn’t do it again. Funny, really… he needn’t have bothered. I could do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular… and what a waste of time, when after all that, I’m going to kill both of you tonight.”
Quirrell’s eyes glittered and he snapped his fingers, ropes bounded me and Harry suddenly. I froze, my mind not comprehending. Snape was trying to help us? Quirrell was the bad guy? How?
“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. You too, Little Emily. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you’d see me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.”
I suddenly realized, “You let the troll lose?”
“Certainly,” he sneered, “I have a special gift with trolls- you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off- and not only did my troll fail to beat you two to death, that three headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly.
“Now, wait quietly, Potter, Little Emily. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”
That’s when I suddenly noticed it wasn’t any old mirror standing behind him. It was the Mirror of Erised.
“This mirror is the key is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell softly muttered, his fingers gliding across the golden frame, “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he’s in London… I’ll be far away by the time he gets back…”
I glanced over at Harry. These were going to be our last moments. Despite me wanting to have it short and over with I decided we needed to give Dumbledore a chance to get her before Voldemort ran off with the Stone. But what to talk to him about? When was one of the times I saw him… I gulped and spoke.
“Harry and I saw you in the woods-“I tried to say and Quirrell cut me off.
“Yes,” Quirrell stepped away from the mirror, going around to the back of it, “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. Tried to frighten me- as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…”
Quirrell came out to the front and eagerly stared into the mirror, seeing his greatest desire.
“I see the Stone… I’m presenting it to my master… but where is it?” His voice became cold and hard at the end and he turned to us.
I watched as Harry squirmed against his bindings, them holding fast. Harry caught on to what I was trying to do and said something else to distract him.
“But Snape always seemed to hate me so much.” Harry said, gritted his teeth as he tried to pull away again.
“Oh he does,” Quirrell’s voice was lofty, “In fact, he hates both of you so very much. Heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with both of your fathers, didn’t you two know? Snape loathed your fathers and them in return. But he never wanted you dead.”
“But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing- I thought Snape was threatening you…” Harry let it trial off and I was utterly confused, who was threatening him then?
I watched Quirrell’s face closely and his cool, casual façade broke for a few seconds, fear running across his features.
“Sometimes,” Quirrell started, “I find it hard to follow my master’s instructions- he’s a great wizard and I am weak-“
“He was the one in the classroom?” I asked, astonished.
“He is with me wherever I go,” Quirrell softly murmured, “I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” I saw Quirrell’s shoulders quiver, “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me… decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…” Quirrell let his sentence trail on into his thoughts…
How could he be persuaded so easily? Was he so greedy, so helpless that he felt he needed a high power to control him like a puppet? Everything about this seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I heard Quirrell whisper profanities under his breath.
“I don’t understand…is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?” Quirrell muttered.
I looked back over at the mirror. What did I want more than ever right now? For Harry and I to have the stone. So… if I looked into the mirror, I would find where it is. I looked over at Harry to see he had the same idea and he tipped, straining to see the mirror and instead fell. It didn’t even seem like Quirrell noticed.
Quirrell was still mumbling to himself, “What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”
This seemed so surreal, like I’ve seen it before.
“Use the children… use the children…” the familiar crackly voice croaked.
Where did I hear it before?
Quirrell span around over to me and grinned, “Yes- Emily- come here, little one.”
He clapped his hands and the ropes vanished from my limps, causing me to fall.
“Come on, get up! Don’t want to keep the Master waiting. Come here,” Quirrell pointed to a spot in front of the mirror, “Tell me what you see.”
Quirrell stood up behind me, a malicious smile on his face, but it soon faded into something else. I could still smell something weird, it seemed to be coming from his head.
An image appeared on the mirror. I saw Harry smiling and I just knew that the Stone was tucked safely in his pocket. I was grinning right at him, Quirrell and Voldemort gone. I went through my brain to find a convincing lie.
“I see my father,” I forced my lower lip to tremble, “We’re at home, with my mum. We’re a family again.”
“Get away from the mirror, Potter, come here.” Quirrell commanded and clapped again. I saw Harry was free, “You even think of running away girl and you won’t even have time to take another breath.”
“Tell me what you see, Potter.” Quirrell commanded.
I glanced towards Harry’s pocket, remembering my desire. As if it was magic, something bulged. I tried to keep an anxious look on my face as I watched.
“Well?” Quirrell’s voice was losing its patience, “What do you see?”
“I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore,” Harry said, “I-I’ve won the house cup for Gryffindor.”
I almost whimpered. Even I knew that before this all Harry wanted was his parents. I hoped that Quirrell fell for it.
“Get out of the way!” Quirrell commanded and looked into the mirror.
Harry looked over at me and I could see the look in his eyes said ‘run!’ I only backed up three steps when the familiar voice came from Quirrell again.
“He lies… He lies…” The voice had an icy edge to it.
“Potter, come back here!” Quirrell bellowed, “Tell me the truth! What did you just see?”
Quirrell was glaring at Harry and the voice returned.
“Let me speak to him… face-to-face…”
“Master, you are not strong enough!” Quirrell cried in concern.
“I have enough strength… for this…” the voice continued to whisper.
I felt like glue stuck me to the spot. This was all too familiar, but I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Quirrell slowly started unraveling the purple cloth that was wrapped around his head. Quirrell’s face looked puny without the turban and he started to turn slowly in place. I almost screamed, but Harry and I remained silent, just staring at what was in front of us.
It was a face, a sheet white pale and glowing red eyes glared at Harry and I. It didn’t have a nose really, only two long wholes, which reminded me of a snake’s snout.
“Emily…little Emily…” the thing whispered, “Do you remember me? Your dreams…I’m there, aren’t I? You know my voice, but don’t know where. Little Emily, naïve girl. You will know your true destiny in time. You have a reason for being here.”
“What…what is t-that?” I stuttered.
“You’ll find out in time…” He turned his head back to Harry,“Harry Potter…” It whispered, paying no attention to me anymore.
"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor...I have form only when I can share another's body...but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds...Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks...you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest...and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own...Now...why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
I gasped, he knew. I saw Harry stumbled backwards.
“Don’t be a fool,” the voice snarled, “Better save your own life and join me… or you’ll meet the same end as your parents… they died begging for mercy…”
“LIAR!” Harry screamed into the face.
Quirrell was walking backwards and the face smiled wickedly.
“How touching…” the face seethed, “I always value bravery… Yes, boy, your parents were brave… I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn’t have died… she was trying to protect you… Now give me the Stone, unless you want to her to have died in vain.”
“Harry, don’t listen to him!” I cried.
“Shut up, silly girl!” He snarled at me.
“NEVER!” Harry shouted and lunged for the fire door.
“SEIZE THEM!” Voldemort shouted.
I was scrambling with Harry when suddenly, a hand clamped onto my wrist.
Suddenly, my scar felt like it was going to explode and I started to scream. I jerked my wrist away and the pain dulled a little. I looked to see Harry was fine, but Quirrell was gone. I glanced behind me to see he was whimpering, watching his hands become covered in mad blisters.
“Seize them! SEIZE THEM!” Voldemort kept screaming and Quirrell jumped towards us again, anger going wild in his eyes.
He knocked both Harry and I clean down and the air felt like was vacuumed out of my lungs. Quirrell had both what was left of his hands on Harry’s neck and I could hear Quirrell screaming in pain. My scar was unbelievable, my vision blurred and my brain was telling me to shut down, but I struggled against it. I had to be awake! For Harry! With all my might I shoved Quirrell off of us and Quirrell shrieked.
“Master, I cannot hold him- my hands- my hands!”
Quirrell jumped on us again, pinning Harry down with his knees, I was free, but I didn’t know what to do. Quirrell’s hands looked as if they were burned though…
“Then kill him, fool, and be done!” Voldemort cried.
As I saw Quirrell raise his wand, my reflexes came in. I pounced on top of him and Harry smashed his hands into Quirrell’s face. Quirrell shrieked in agony as our bare skin burned his face like a hot pan. Quirrell rolled away from Harry and squished me underneath him. The pain in my wrist was exploding and Quirrell was suffocating me. I feebly let go and Quirrell rolled off of my, screaming. My vision was doubling and so blurred, I couldn’t tell what was what. Black spots appeared in my vision, but I could still hear the screaming.
“KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” Voldemort’s cruel voice shrieked, but I could hear Harry’s voice, which was full of concern.
“Emily! Emily! Emily…” his voice faded away as I gave into the darkness, my limbs feeling like lead.
“Emily…little Emily…” the voice continued to echo in the black oblivion. “Little Emily, naïve girl. You will know your true destiny in time. You have a reason for being here.”
“What reason!?” I screamed, afraid. I could feel that I was a little girl.
“You will know in time!” It yelled, cackling and I saw Harry, on the ground, unmoving.
“Harry!” I wailed, thinking he was dead.
That’s when he suddenly cracked a smile, “He can’t kill me.”
I abruptly woke up to someone calling my name.
“Shhh, Emily. It’s alright. It’s all over now.” It was Dumbledore’s crackly voice.
“Professor Dumbledore?” I whispered, my throat sore.
“Yes, Emily, I’m here.” He reassured me, but then I panicked.
“The Stone! Sir! Where is it! Did Quirrell escape?! Does Vol-“ I started to shout.
“Emily. Calm down. Quirrell and Voldemort don’t have the Stone.” He laid a hand on my shoulder.
“Is Harry alright?” I asked, worriedly.
“Yes, quite alright, in fact, he woke up yesterday afternoon.” Dumbledore explained looking down at the back of the room, where a large cart of candies sat.
“Yesterday?” I asked, incredulous, “How long have I been here, sir?”
“Nearly four days.” Dumbledore answered and glanced toward my very own cart.
“Just like, Harry, it seems you have quite few people who like you. Knowing that this was a secret, the whole school knows now. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasely have already come to visit Harry, since he was already awake, but they have dropped off quite a few treats for you, too. It seemed like Mr. Wood was very concerned. I didn’t know if Madam Promfrey could take him away from your side. He kept muttering about how you warned him and he wouldn’t listen.” Dumbledore was smiling with a twinkle in his eye.
“Professor Dumbledore, where is the Stone now?” I asked, fearing the answer.
Dumbledore sighed, “You’re just like Harry. It seemed I had arrived just in time to take Quirrell off of Harry. You, my dear, were already out cold. You two seemed to have done very well, considering the circumstances.”
I blushed at his compliment, but then realized something, “Hermione got the letter to you?”
“Yes, I had just reached England when a white owl came to me and dropped off a note explaining everything. I rushed back over and came just in time. I feared I might be too late.”
“Well, considering Quirrell was on top of Harry, the Stone probably couldn’t-“ I was cut off.
“My, my, you are just like him. No, Emily, it wasn’t the Stone I meant. I meant you and Harry. When I found you two and I saw you there. I thought you were dead, Emily. Emily, actually, you were dead, but we were able to bring you back. I thought Harry almost was. The effort of keeping Voldemort away from the Stone required great effort from both of you. And for the Stone, it had been destroyed.”
I slumped in my bed in relief, but I was also confused, “But didn’t Nicolas-“
“It seems that all of you know about Nicolas Flamel,” Dumbledore’s voice was bright, “Well, I had a chat with him and he and his wife agreed it was for the best.”
“So Flamel and his wife will eventually die?” I asked, a little sad.
“They have enough Elixir stored to work out their affairs, but yes, they will die.” Dumbledore seemed to be a little troubled at the thought.
“Dumbledore… what did Voldemort mean… when he said ‘You will know your true destiny in time. You have a reason for being here.’ He said it like he already knew everything. He’s been in my dreams…Quirrell was there too…he would scream…’Nothing’s changed!’ What…what does that mean Professor?” I asked, worried to bits.
“I don’t know, Emily.” Dumbledore said, his voice full of concern.
“Does it mean he’ll be coming back, sir?” I asked, my voice timid.
“I don’t know if what he said connects to that, Emily, but I do know he’s not gone. He escaped after I lifted Quirrell off Harry and he left Quirrell to die. He uses his followers as if they were dispensable. This has delayed Voldemort’s rise into power, but yes, he will try again. But it only takes someone else to fight him and maybe Voldemort will never be able to come back into power.” Dumbledore explained.
I sighed, “Professor, why couldn’t Quirrell touch Harry and me?”
Dumbledore smiled again, “You see that scar on your wrist. It’s no ordinary scar, as you may have already found out. Voldemort is the one who gave it to you, but he didn’t kill you and Harry. It was Harry’s mother who saved you. Her sacrifice was out of love for you two and therefore, Quirrell cold not touch something so pure. Her love was so strong, it acted as shield against him, a person full of such greed and want for power, not to mention he was sharing his soul with Voldemort. He could not touch something so good. And your father’s gift did help, believe it or not.” Dumbledore winked.
I grabbed the locket, “My necklace?”
“Yes, it is infused with a small protective charm and a small amount of a luck potion, Felix Felicis, which is what gives your locket its golden color. You father was a smart man, very clever.” His blue eyes twinkled.
“So…I’m the Girl-Who-Lived?” I asked, “Why was I never told?”
Dumbledore’s smile turned to a frown, “It would be better if you read this.” Dumbledore stretched his arm out and handed me a letter.
I grabbed it, “Dumbledore, I still have two more questions, if you would please answer them.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well…I was wondering why Sn- I mean Professor Snape hates Harry and I so much.” I asked.
“Well, both of your father’s didn’t like him very much, it’s much like you and Mr. Malfoy. But, your fathers did something that Snape could never forgive…”
“What was that?” I asked, curious.
“They saved his life.” Dumbledore answered and my jaw dropped.
“No way!”
“Yes way, indeed. Strange isn’t it?” Dumbledore mused, “Snape can’t stand being in both of your dad’s debt. He worked so hard to protect Harry this year, probably so he could have that off his shoulders and despise Harry’s father in peace…”
“What about my father?” I wondered.
“We’ll have to see about that in time. Now, what is your second question?” Dumbledore asked patiently.
“Well, I was wondering why my father was in Azkaban.”
Dumbledore gave a huge sigh, “I was afraid you were going to ask, I knew you would one day, but you’re so young. Your mother does not wish for you to know and I cannot act against her wishes. I can only tell you that your father is a great man, despite what they say.” Dumbledore’s eyes were filled with sadness and I looked away.
“She’s been hiding things from me all my life. My scar, my dad.” My lip started to wobble, “I hate her.”
“No, Emily, you don’t. She’s just trying to protect you.” Dumbledore tried to convince me.
“She’s been lying to me. All my life I tried to stay away from hurting her and she does it, plain as day to me.” My eyes began to sting.
“You’ll thank her some day.” Dumbledore said and patted my shoulder, “You should get started on your sweets. There are quite a lot of them. Do you mind?” Dumbledore asked as he picked up a chocolate frog and I shook my head, “I have always loved these, although I am always quite surprised when I find myself in them.” He unwrapped it and pulled out the card, “Oh, Bowman Wright, the man who developed the Golden Snitch. I have a quite a few of him. Well, good afternoon to you, Miss Emily.”
And he got up and left. As soon as he was out of sight I took the sheets off and swung my legs over and groaned as every muscle in my body felt like it was dead. Despite that, I tried hop off the bed and instead slumped onto the floor.
“Miss Blarsh! What are you doing out of bed?” Madam Promfrey rushed over and scolded me.
“I wanted to see, Harry.” I huffed as she lifted me back onto my bed.
“You need to get some rest, honey.” Madam Promfrey said.
“Thank you, but I’ve been sleeping for four days. I really need to see Harry.” I gave her a pleading look as she opened her mouth to protest.
“Ok, but you’re staying in your bed, go it? I’ll wheel you over.”
I gave a weak smile as I saw Harry’s form get closer and closer.
“Hey, Harry.” I timidly greeted.
“Hey, Emily.” Harry replied and Madam brought our beds right next to each other so they were touching and she left to do her duties.
“Dumbledore said you almost died,” I randomly said, looking Harry up and down. He seemed to be alright, a little pale.
“Dumbledore told me he almost didn’t think you would wake up.” Harry said in return.
“You know about the Stone and everything?” I asked.
“Ya, I told Ron and Hermione too.”
I sighed and moved my arm towards Harry and whimpered. It hurt so unbelievably much, “I have my mother’s letter.”
I looked up at Harry’s emerald eyes to see surprise.
“Want to open it for me?” I asked him and he reached for the parchment and unfolded it, holding it out for both of us could see it.
Dearest Emily,
I knew this day would come, but I didn’t know it would be so soon. It pains me to say, but I’ve been lying to you all these years, which you have probably already concluded on your own. You see, your father and I were close friends to the Potter’s and we thought it was just adorable you and Harry were born in the same year. We pictured your future, you both being the best of friends, but there was a problem. Lily and James Potter went into hiding. One of their friends betrayed them, revealing their location to You-Know-Who. Your father and I were going out for a night out together and Harry’s mother said she would babysit you for the night. As soon as I heard the news, your father and I rushed over to the Potter house on his motorcycle. The house was in ruins, we could hear you two, you and Harry, screaming. Hagrid arrived shortly after and grabbed Harry and we took you home. Word started spreading around Voldemort was defeated by a little boy and we wanted it to stay that way. We wanted you to live a peaceful life, honey, but with what happened with your father, I bet it’s anything, but that. We did it to protect you…but yes. You were there with Harry and that’s where your scar came from, You-Know-Who. I hope you do forgive me, honey. I couldn’t bear to lose you too.
Love,
Your sincerely sorry Mother
Tears were running down my face when I finished. It was true, undeniably true. I shove my head into Harry’s shoulder and sobbed. Ever time my body racked, pain sprang up my spine, but I didn’t care. Finally, I calmed down a little.
I sniffled, “You know what this means now?”
“Ya.” He answered, his eyes looking worriedly at me.
“We’re in this together no matter what.” My voice cracked, but I smiled.
He grinned in return, “No promises.”
I wiped my tears away, ”Ow.”
Harry looked at me concerned.
“Don’t worry, Harry. It’s just everything hurts right now.” I reassured him.
“The end-of-the-year feast is today.” Harry reminded me.
“Really? Today? Madam Promfrey will never let me get out of this bed!” I complained.
“We’ll have to see, Madam Profrey?” Harry called and she scampered over and started organizing Harry’s candy boxes.
“Emily and I want to go to the feast. We can go, can’t we?” Harry asked.
“Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go,” Her tone sounded as if it was a ridiculous idea, “But after seeing Emily practically fall to the floor…”
“I’m fine, really, Madam Promfrey.” I hurriedly said and grinded my teeth as I swung my legs over and wobbly stood up, “See?” I tried to put on a smile, but she gave me a look. But she sighed, “I cannot defy the headmaster.”
I dropped back onto the bed, relieved and my legs felt like they would fall off.
“By the way, you have another visitor.” Madam Promfrey added.
“Oh good,” Harry said, a smile on his face, “Who is it?”
No sooner did the words leave Harry’s mouth with Hagrid’s form come into sight. Hagrid looked huge compared to the cots he was passing and he avoided looking at us. As he took a seat on the tiny stool that was next to us, the stool groaned under his weight. I smiled at Hagrid, but when he took one glance at us, he burst into tears.
“It’s- all- my- ruddy- fault!” Hagrid wailed, his hands covering his face, “I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn’t know an’ I told him! Yeh both could’ve died! All fer a dragon egg! I’ll never drink again! I should be chucked out an’ made ter live as a Muggle!”
“Hagrid! It’s ok!” I tried to sooth him, but I couldn’t reach him without whimpering pain.
“See, look at yeh! If I hadn’t told him, yeh wouldn’ be like this!” He continued to blubber.
“Hagrid!” Harry cried, an astonished look on his face as he watched large tears roll into Hagrid’s beard, “Hagrid, he’d have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we’re talking about, he’d have found out if you hadn’t told him.”
“Yeh could’ve died!” Hagrid resumed his sobbing, “An’ don’ say the name!”
“VOLDEMORT!” Harry suddenly shouted and I flinched. Hagrid jumped in his seat and immediately stopped crying in shock, “I’ve met him and I’m calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it’s gone, he can’t use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I’ve got loads…”
Hagrid sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve and said, “That reminds me. I’ve got yeh a present.”
“It’s not a stoat sandwich, is it?” I lightly laughed at the worry in Harry’s voice and Hagrid gave a small laugh too.
“Nah, Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. ‘Course, he shoulda sacked me instead- sorry, Emily, I couldn’t get anything for you, but you have that necklace of yours, of course- anyways, I got yeh this…” I grasped my locket as Hagrid handed Harry a book.
I looked at it closely. It looked new, with brown leather covering the cover. I watched as Harry slowly lifted the front and revealed wizard photos. It was filled with them and I immediately recognized Harry’s mother form my dream. I looked at Harry’s father, him almost a spitting image of Harry, except his eyes weren’t green like Harry’s. Harry’s mother had those. They were dancing and laughing. Each picture had them smiling and I looked over at Harry to see a beaming smile on his face.
“Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ fer photos… knew yeh didn’t have any… d’yeh like it?”
I watched as Harry just glanced up at Hagrid, speechless. Hagrid nodded and then left us. To give Harry some alone time with the pictures, I touched his shoulder smiling and called for Madam Promfrey to move me back.
As soon as I was moved into my old bed area, the door blasted open. Between the two doors was a burly boy and brought a smile to my lips as he searched the room. His eyes landed on me.
“Emily!”
It was none other than Oliver Wood.
“Hey, Oliver.” I croaked, my throat still sore.
“Oh, Emily! Are you ok? Do you need anything? Does anything hurt? Do you want me-“ He rushed to say, but I put a hand up.
I giggled a little, “I’m fine Oliver. Just sore and tired.” I yawned.
“I heard what happened.” Oliver’s voice wobbled, “I heard you were dead.”
“Does it look like I’m dead?” I smiled at him, “I heard the feast is tonight…is there any way you could help me get to the common room?”
“Ya, sure, But it’s only one o’clock, the feast doesn’t start for five hours.” Oliver’s voice was puzzled.
“Exactly. I want to get some rest in my own bed before the feast.” I explained and he nodded.
Oliver walked over to Madam Promfrey and they argued for a little until her shoulders slumped in defeat. Wood walked back over and smiled, “You’re ok to go. But, just tell me if you hurt at all.”
He then slipped his arms under me, my body cradled in his arms. I whimpered as it felt like a thousand needles were being pushed into my skulls and someone was pounded hammers all over my body.
“You alright, Emily?” Oliver asked, the concern back.
I gritted my teeth, “I’m fine.”
He walked through the corridors and people stopped to look. Whispers spread but I could have cared less. My eye lids were drooping and I continued to yawn.
“Tried, sleepy head?” Oliver playfully taunted and I nodded.
I was surprised when Oliver was able to walk up the girls’ dormitory stairs. I could just imagine the glitter in Dumbledore’s eyes and smile. I pointed over to my bed and he dropped me on to it, pulling the covers around my chin. I spotted the treats and presents form everyone were on the top of my trunk, no doubt the work of Professor Dumbledore.
“Good night, Emily.” I heard Oliver say.
“Good night, Oliver.” I mumbled and let sleep overtake me.
What seemed like minutes later, I could feel myself being shaken.
“Emily, wake up. You have to get ready for the feast.” It was Hermione’s voice and I opened my eye lids and gave her a lazy smile.
“Same old, same old hm, Hermione?” I asked.
“Ya, Emily. Same old.” Her eyes were joyful as she looked down at me, “But you have a few minutes to get ready.”
As I tried to push myself out of bed I groaned in pain, “Hermione? Could you help me get ready?”
“Oh! Yes, of course!” she rushed over to my side and I slung my arm over my shoulder, getting ready for the feast.
Minutes later we met up with Ron and were walking towards our table. I was putting most of my weight on Hermione and I could tell she was starting to have a hard time. I could hear the sudden silence and whispering started occurring.
“She’s the Girl-Who-Lived” I heard someone whisper close to me.
“Just great,” I muttered and looked over at Hermione,“Almost there,” I murmured to her.
Finally, we reached the benches and awaited for the point ceremony to begin, she Great Hall filled. I looked around curiously though, to see Harry wasn’t there.
“Where’s Harry?” I asked, but as soon as I said it, he came strolling through the Great Hall doors, limping a little, but seemed to be managing just fine. The silence came again, just like when I came in and whispers became even louder, people standing up to see us.
Harry slid next to us and I looked around the Hall. Silver and green was plastered everywhere, which was the only thing keeping my spirits from being completely happy. Slytherin would still win. I guess I should be happy I wasn’t expelled. This would be their seventh year and the Slytherin flag of a serpent was behind the High Table.
Just seconds later, Dumbledore took his spot at the table and stood up. The chattered soon ceased.
“Another year gone!” Dumbledore called out merrily, “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before the next year starts…
“Now as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with two hundred and fifty-two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy two.”
The Slytherin table went crazy, stamping and cheery. I even could see Malfoy, slamming his goblet. I wanted to puke.
“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” Dumbledore congratulated, but continued, “However, recent events must be taken into account.”
The room went deathly silent and I could see the smile’s on the Slytherins’ faces falter.
“Ahem, “ Dumbledore cleared his throat, “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…
“First- to Mr. Ronald Weasely…”
I looked over to see Ron was as red as a tomato that forgot to put on sun block.
“… for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many year, I alard Gryffindor house fifty points.”
Our table suddenly started roaring and I was pretty sure that the stars in the ceiling were going tobe rattled so much, they would fall down. I could still hear Percy form the Prefects table yelling, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”
Silence soon filled the hall again.
“Second- to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.
I watched as Hermione dove her head into arms, probably crying in joy. Every single Gryffindor was jumping up and down; we just earned another hundred points back.
“Third…to Miss Emily Blarsh…” The room went silent, “… for her Potions knowledge and stubbornness. Sixty points.”
The place went mad again. People were throwing their hates up, knowing we weren’t that far away from the Sytherins, but it was Harry’s that really made the tension in the room fill up.
“Fourth- to Mr. Harry Potter…” There wasn’t even a sneeze that echoed through the room, “…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor hour sixty points.”
This time, I thought the castle walls were going to break. A few people added the points up and screamed then into the air, “Tied with Slytherin! Four hundred and Seventy two!”
Dumbledore raised his hand and the cheering died down, “There’s all kind of courage,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”
It must have seemed like a war was going on in the Great Hall because the cheering that erupted form our table was so loud, it could have been mistaken for a boom. I jumped up with Hermione, Ron, and Harry, cheering as I watched Neville get smothered with people, his face pale in shock. Neville was always the one that teachers took points away from and this was just phenomenal. I grinned as I glanced over at Malfoy. He had a pout on his face, fully frozen in place and astonished.
“Which mean,” Dumbldore shouted over the cheering, because even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating Slytherin’s loss, “we need a little change of decoration.”
He clapped his hands together and suddenly the green and silver disappeared, the serpent nowhere to be found. Scarlet and gold took its palce and a lion roare don the flag. I saw Snape shake Professor McGonagall’s hand, her face beaming, but his face had a plastered, disturbing smile on it. As I caught his yes, I knew he still hated me, but I guess that would never change. In fact, it was a refreshing constant that I could always count on.
I couldn’t remember an anymore perfect evening, despite my aching body. This was better than getting Ron, Harry, and Hermione as friends, seeing as they were here with me. It was better than knocking out a troll. It was better than Harry’s defeat against Slytherin in Quidditch. That night, I feel asleep happily, no nightmares plaguing my sleeping mind.