Forgotten Memories

Y/N was let out of the Hospital Wing three days after the events of Halloween had passed. She was still a little out of it from the concussion but other than that she was fine. When she was released, she was bombarded by Ron, Harry, and Hermione asking her if she was okay, with a few apologies for her injuries sprinkled within the worried questions of her friends. "Guys, I’m fine, don’t worry! The only thing Madam Pomfrey wants me to watch out for is my concussion. I have it covered. What happened while I was out?” She questioned the trio, who looked between each other.

“You kind of sort of had a rumour started about you.” Hermione said quickly before trying to change the subject.

Y/N stopped them, “What? You can’t just leave it at that. I deserve to know the details of the rumours about me.” She gave the three, especially Hermione, sad puppy dog eyes and pouted.

Harry gives a panicked look to Hermione and Ron; he can’t resist such a sad face!

Hermione sighs and decides to elaborate—Y/N was right after all. She has a right to know what the rumours being spread about her are. “I don’t know the exact details, none of us do. As you know, word spreads fast and gets twisted very easily. The rumour we heard was along the lines of, ‘Y/N was the only one injured, therefore she must have been the only one to have done something that night with the troll.’”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. “B-but I did nothing! That’s totally unfair to you and the boys. It shouldn’t be me getting all the credit because I managed to get hurt!” She massaged her temple in frustration.

“It’s fine. We should head to the Great Hall now; breakfast is about to start.” Ron said, patting her shoulder to reassure her that they didn’t mind.

Time passed quickly. It was now November, the weather got colder, and the sun was often covered up by clouds. The Black Lake had become an ice bath, the water was so still it could be assumed to have frozen over. The grass was covered in a light frost that crunched under students' feet as they walked to their next class. A light glaze had started covering the windows in the wee hours of the day and later at night when the sun went down.

Quidditch season has begun. Y/N planned to go see Harry play in the first Quidditch match of the season that Saturday: Gryffindor Vs. Slytherin. While Y/N loved flying, and found Quidditch fun, she would rather stay by the side and watch—besides, she was a first-year and Harry was the only exception to the rule that forbade anyone younger than Second-year from playing in the tournaments.

Y/N was one of the few people who got to see Harry in action. He was astonishing. A real natural. She had visited during some of their training sessions to watch the Gryffindor team practice, and their hours were long and gruelling. She doesn’t love Quidditch that much to spend 40 hours a week training.

Even though they were in separate houses, Y/N and the Gryffindor trio she had become friends with had spent as much time together as they could. Harry had taken a liking to the book Quidditch through the Ages which Hermione had lent him. More often than not, you’d see his nose stuck in that book, looking over whatever he could before practise. While Y/N hadn’t needed help with her homework—given her study habits that were drilled into her by the mom she has in Twisted Wonderland and the mom she has in this world—Harry had found Hermione’s help to be a life saver. The one thing that hasn’t changed no matter the world she’s in is that both of her mothers are very strict when it comes to her academic success.

On the day before Harry’s first Quidditch match the trio and Y/N were hanging out in the courtyard with their backs to the jar with bright, blue fire that Hermione had conjured up. The courtyard was freezing, Y/N was shivering and rubbing her hands together to warm up. Just as she was blowing more warm air into her gloved hands to heat her arms up, Snape walked across the yard and to the group. He was limping, which Y/N found odd. Why hadn’t he gone to the infirmary?

Snape walked straight up to Harry and said, “What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?”

Harry showed him his copy of Quidditch through the Ages.

“Library books are not to be taken outside the school,” said Snape. “Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.”

“He’s just made that rule up, he’ll come up with any reason to take points from Gryffindor!” Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

“Did anyone else notice Snape was limping? What’s up with that?” Quietly asked Y/N.

 “Dunno, but I hope whatever it is, that it’s really hurting him,” Replied Ron bitterly. Y/N just looked at Ron with a disappointed face and he went silent.

The day of the Quidditch match Y/N was walking with her three Gryffindor friends to the Great Hall when Harry spoke up.

“Last night I went to get my book from Snape, and he was talking with Filch. His leg was a bloody mess and Filch was giving him bandages. He was complaining about keeping his eyes on ‘all three heads at once.’ When he saw me, he yelled at me to get out.”

He went on to summarise the conclusion him, Ron, and Hermione had come up with the night before together in their common room.

“Snapes after whatever that three-headed dog is hiding!”

“There’s no way Snape would go after something that’s being protected by the school! No way.” Y/N said in a hushed voice.

“That’s exactly what I said!” Hermione sighed.

“What is up with you two and thinking all teachers are saints?” Ron groaned.

“I do not!” Y/N snapped back, “For your information, I have taken quite the disliking to Professor Quirrell. He’s smelly and there’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way. I met him before school and he was talking to himself, but he wasn’t at the same time, I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It does”

“It doesn’t” Two voices say at once (Hermione and Ron)

Harry just looks at the two but urges Y/N to continue. “It was like there was another person there, and I saw his turban moved a little when the other ‘person’ spoke. I think he’s hiding something under his turban and lies about it to keep what actually hides under it a secret.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear something that’s so confusing, but it makes sense at the same time.” Harry says, baffled at the word's Y/N spoke.

In the Great Hall, Y/N had joined the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

“Come on Harry, eat something, today’s a big day!” Y/N said, holding a piece of toast out to him, trying to encourage him to eat something.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just a bit of toast.” Hermione tried to persuade Harry to eat the piece of toast Y/N was holding out to him.

“I don’t want anything”

“You have to eat something.” Y/N whined, putting the hand holding up the toast down.

Harry just shook his head and stared off into the distance. Y/N could tell he was feeling jittery by the way his leg bounced up and down and how he was fidgeting with his fingers.

She just sighed.

“Harry, you need your strength,” Seamus Finnigan butted in. “Seekers are always picked on by the other team.” 

“Thanks, Seamus,” said Harry, watching Seamus pour globs of ketchup on his sausages.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose but decided against saying what she was going to.

It was a good thing Y/N chose to wear earmuffs today. Even if their intended purpose wasn’t to block out the loud cheers and screams of her peers. The Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch and the girl immediately began her search for the one and only, Harry Potter. Once she had found him, she let out a breath of relief. He looked fine, anxious, but fine. She had thought that with all of his nerves leading up to the match he would’ve thrown up by now.

In the middle of the pitch was Madam Hooch, who was refereeing the game. She was holding her broom and Y/N saw her mouth moving, though combined with the loud crowd, her earmuffs, and the fact that she was at least twenty feet below her, she couldn’t hear a word Madam Hooch was saying. Whatever it was, it was probably directed towards the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint. He gave Madam Hooch a nasty look before mounting his broom. Y/N had only known of Flint because Harry talked about the other Quidditch teams and their players. Flint was also known by most of the girls in the school as ‘repulsive’ and a ‘harasser’. That being said, Y/N didn’t really believe the rumours about him, or anyone, matter of fact. Things get twisted into what they aren’t more often than not. If she was going to form an opinion about someone, she rather it be because she has a general understanding of their character rather than something she heard in passing. She was giving him grace, if you will. That was, until she actually met him three weeks ago.

Y/N had just finished History of Magic, and thankfully managed to stay awake the entire time. She even took notes! Because it was Friday, she had no more classes scheduled. Walking to the Great Hall alone—Natalia still had Herbology to get through—she accidentally ran into a student, causing them to drop their wand and bag.

“I am so sorry,” Y/N managed out, panicked. “I run into people a lot, it’s a problem, let me help you with your books!”

The student scowled at her and pushed her away, grabbing his wand and then gathering his items with magic. “Watch where you’re going, brat.” Y/N had taken notice of the fact he was in Slytherin and that he was quite muscular looking. She backed away from him with her hands up and apologised once more.

“Once again, I am sincerely sorry for running into you. I could try to make up for it?” She said, questioning her life choices. Sometimes she was too nice for her own good.

The student gave her an awful grin, showing off his rather large teeth. “Well then, I wouldn’t mind that, you’re not too shabby, what year are you in?”

Y/N’s eyes widened just a little, but she tried to stay composed and schooled her expression. “I am a first-year.” She held back from telling the Slytherin student her name, she had a bad feeling about him.

“Well, then. Quite scandalous of you, just a first-year and you’re already offering yourself to someone?” The Slytherin's grin became more malicious the longer she was in his presence.

“I don’t understand what you’re implying, and I don’t know if I like that.” Y/N replied coolly.

The boy just cackled and grabbed her wrist, dragging her with him. “You can’t back down now, can you? You’ve already offered yourself up to me.”

Y/N tried to break free, but his grip was too tight. He had to have been in Quidditch or some other sport to have such grip strength. “Stop it, you’re hurting me! I don’t like this; I’ll scream for help if you don’t stop.”

He rolled his eyes and tugged her along, farther from the Great Hall. Y/N had no clue where they were going, and quite frankly, she didn’t care. She was coming up with an escape plan when a tall, dark haired Hufflepuff student with grey eyes stopped the two of them.

“What’s going on here? This girl seems to be trying to break away from you, she looks extremely uncomfortable.” The very handsome student asked.

Y/N lightly swooned over him, but then scolded herself when she realised what she was thinking ‘This is not the time to be thinking about stuff like that when you’re about to get assaulted.’ Her train of thought was interrupted by the Slytherin snarkily saying, “Butt out of it, Puff, she offered herself, now she is going to serve what she offered.”

“No, I didn’t. I accidentally bumped into you and asked if I could make it up to you because it was a genuine mistake. This is sexual harassment.” Y/N quickly responded, trying to tug her now red wrist from his grip, once again failing.

“Forcing yourself upon another student is a means for expulsion. You should know that, Flint.” The pretty boy said as he tugged Y/N’s wrist out of the Slytherin boy’s grip and away from him. Y/N hid behind the Hufflepuff student as the Slytherin got defensive.

“Who are you, anyway? Why do you care so much about this girl, Puff?” He bared his teeth at the grey eyed boy.

“This girl looks to be a first-year. To subject her to what you’re about to do is monstrously disgusting. You’ll be lucky if she decides to not report you.” The boy said, protecting Y/N with his arm. The Slytherin just scoffs and walks off, but not before giving Y/N a smirk and a wink. In response, and to retaliate, she made a gagging noise so he could hear.

The brown-haired boy watched the Slytherin walk off and then turned to Y/N. “Are you okay? He didn’t lay his hands on you right?” He worriedly asked and looked her over to make sure she’s not injured.

“No, other than a sore wrist, I’m fine. Thank you. You saved me. What’s your name?” Y/N asked, now allowing herself to swoon.

 “I’m Cedric Diggory, third-year. You are?” He replied.

“Y/N HalleWell. I’m a first-year. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Cedric. Once again, thank you so much. I cannot express my gratitude enough, honestly.” Y/N gushed to Cedric. Now that they were in conversation, he wouldn’t mind too much if she stared deeply into his gorgeous grey eyes, would he?

Cedric laughed and waved her off, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll protect you from scum like Flint. There are so many people at Hogwarts who truly don’t deserve the privilege of being here.”

The girl was pulled out of her memory when the sound of Madam Hooch’s loud whistle reverberated around the pitch. All the players rose to the air, and the game began. The sound of Lee Jordan’s voice startled Y/N. She didn’t expect a student to be a commentator.

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

“JORDAN!” Y/N heard McGonagall through the microphone and giggled.

“Sorry!”

Already so much was happening. It was almost too much for Y/N to comprehend. The Quaffle went back and forth between the Gryffindor chasers before Flint’s grubby hands snatched the ball and he tried to score. Key word: tried. He was blocked by Oliver Wood with an excellent manoeuvre. The Gryffindors take back the Quaffle, but then the Gryffindor chaser with the Quaffle—Katie Bell—is hit in the back of the head with a Bludger. Y/N gasps, her eyes widening as covers her mouth. 

The game moves on as if nothing had happened, and through all the back and forth, Gryffindor finally scores a point. “—Keeper Bletchley dives—he misses! GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”

Cheers fill the air and everyone around Y/N shoots up out of their seats in glee. A slight smirk sneaks its way onto the girl’s face as she hears the Slytherins groan in annoyance.

More time passes and the momentum of the match slows down, while still being rather fast paced. Y/N glanced at Harry, through all of the commotion of the Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers, Harry has yet to make a move for the Golden Snitch. He did a few loops earlier but that’s about all he’s done other than scan for the Snitch.

“Chaser Pucey ducks under two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell. He speeds towards the—wait a moment, was that the Snitch?” Lee Jordan quickly asked as everyone looked for the Snitch, with Adrian Pucey dropping the Quaffle to see the Golden Snitch had just grazed his left ear.

Time stopped for a moment. Y/N saw exactly where the Snitch was, and she felt a rush of adrenaline. She wasn’t even in the game, but in that moment, she finally understood why Harry was so enamoured with Quidditch. The race to get the Snitch first had begun, and both Seekers were head-to-head, neither behind nor in front of the other. Everyone had stopped what they were doing, the Chasers watched mid-air as the Gryffindor and Slytherin Seekers raced towards the Snitch. Harry gained a little extra speed and hurdled himself towards the snitch, reaching out and—WHAM!

The crowd booed. Marcus Flint had caused Harry to spin off course and the poor boy held on for dear life.

“FOUL!” Screamed the Gryffindors.

The Gryffindors, in response to Flint’s foul, were given a free shot into a goalpost. Also because of Flint’s foul, the Snitch got lost in the confusion. Disappearing from sight.

“So, after that obvious bit of disgusting cheating—”

“Jordan!” growled Professor McGonagall.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul—” 

“Jordan, I am warning you— “

“Alright, alright!” Lee continued his commentary, but Y/N wasn’t paying attention all too much, although she did giggle at the banter between Lee and McGonagall. No, instead of watching the game, Y/N was searching for the Snitch, much like Harry and the Slytherin Seeker.

Her search for the Snitch was interrupted by gasps from the crowd. Harry’s broom was trying to buck him off! She let out a horrified gasp at a rather close call, with Harry almost ending up splat on the ground, and most likely dead. Y/N frantically looked around to see if anything was interfering with Harry, and then she noticed Professor Quirrell muttering something and keeping his eyes locked onto Harry’s form. ‘Suspicious. If I were to make a guess, I’d say Quirrell is the one making Harry’s broom act up!’ She thought. Suddenly, the bucking stopped, and Harry regained control of his broom.

Snape stood up quickly and tried to put out the fire on his robes, knocking Quirrell back and stopping Harry’s broom from going berserk. Her suspicions were confirmed. Just when Y/N thought Harry was safe, he went speeding toward the ground, and then his hand flew to mouth, as if he was going to throw up. ‘I KNEW IT! I TOLD HIM TO EAT!’ Y/N thought angrily. He fell onto the pitch, his hands and knees becoming dirty. He started gagging before he coughed out something gold. The thing fell into his hands, and he looked at it with amazement.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” Harry yelled to everyone, waving it in the air and pumping his fist happily.

In the end, Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to Slytherin’s measly sixty. 

It was after the game, and the Gryffindor trio and Y/N were in Hagrid’s hut.

“It was Snape,” Ron accused. “Hermione and I saw him cursing your broom and muttering something. He wouldn’t take his eyes off you!”

“Wait, but that’s not what I saw!” Y/N complained. “I saw Quirrell doing the exact same thing you’re accusing Snape of! He only stopped when Snape’s cloak caught fire, and he was pushed back in favour of putting the cloak out.”

“You can’t still be on about Quirrell.” Ron groaned.

“I could say the same thing about you guys and your obsession with Snape being the bad guy!” Y/N retorted.

“Rubbish.” Hagrid said, “Snape wouldn’ do somethin’ like that.”

“I found out something about him,” Harry told Hagrid. “He tried to get past the three-headed dog in the Third-floor Corridor at Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”

The thump of the teapot was heard as it hit the ground. Hagrid had dropped it.

“How do you know ‘bout Fluffy?” He asked incredulously.

“ Fluffy ?”

“That thing has a name!?”

“Yeah, he’s mine. Bought ‘im off a Greek chap I met in the pub las’ year. I lent ‘im to Dumbledore to guard the—”

“Yes?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Don’t ask me anymore, I’ve said too much. It’s top secret, it is!” Hagrid said hurriedly.

“But Snape’s trying to steal it!” Harry said.

“Rubbish,” Hagrid grumbled. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he wouldn’ do nothin’ like that.”

“Now we don’t know if it’s actually Snape—” Y/N tried to say before the trio gave her an ‘are you serious’ look.

“Then why did Snape try to kill Harry during the match!” Hermione cried out. “I know a jinx when I see one Hagrid! I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking! I saw him!”

“How do we know it wasn’t a counter-jinx to whatever Quirrell was muttering?” Y/N asked. She was getting quite upset at the fact that her ideas kept getting dismissed as stupid, as if their idea that Snape wanted whatever Fluffy was guarding wasn’t just as crazy.

“Y/N why do you keep opposing us! We know what we saw! All the evidence is against him!”

“And I know what I saw! You sound just as crazy as I do, thank you very much. Stop dismissing me!” Y/N said, her voice raised a little, before she sighed and backed down. “Things aren’t black and white, it’s not always what it seems. Maybe all of us are wrong, maybe you’re right. Whatever the answer may be, you can’t just be ignorant to all other possibilities because you don’t like Snape.” She said before going quiet and looking down, bummed that her friends aren’t even trying to see her side of the story.

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” Hagrid butt in, “I don’ know why Harry’s broom went crazy, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now listen to me, the lot of yeh. Yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh! It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you’d do well to forget what it’s guardin’! That’s between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel—”

“Ha!” Harry exclaimed, “So there’s someone named Nicolas Flamel involved?”

Hagrid’s face dropped, and then it went red—he looked furious with himself.