Twisted Fascination

I felt quite annoyed as I stared at Quirrell, who was still stuttering through a basic lesson.

Over the course of the past few weeks, he had been getting shakier and shakier. It was like he was losing his remaining marbles and the will to even live, which affected his already bad teaching.

I felt my fingers tapping against my thigh under the desk as he struggled to say a single sentence. I was vaguely aware of a very faint crackling in the air, and I'm sure the others were subconsciously aware of it as well, as they kept shifting uncomfortably.

Quirrell, however, seemed to be oblivious to the air of the room, as he kept stuttering away, occasionally throwing a shiver in there for good measure.

I paused then before sitting up carefully. I narrowed my eyes at the man, and I came to realize something that hadn't even crossed my mind before.

That man had a fake stutter.

I blinked once before slouching down just slightly in my seat. I began to observe Quirrell closely and noticed a few other things as well.

His shudder was equal parts real and fake. He would give a fake shudder between real shudders. He wasn't shivering because his topic scared him, though. He was shaking because of his bad health. His skin was pale, and there were bags developing under his eyes. He was in bad health, both physically and mentally. He would occasionally shift nervously, wincing as if something was physically hurting. He also made sure to avoid looking at me, which really caught my attention.

I briefly glanced at the watch Zabini wore before looking down at my notes. I looked back up at the man and decided that I still had enough time. I straightened up and raised my hand, causing Quirrell to come to a halt.

The man seemed hesitant to call on me, his eyes flicking around nervously. "Y-yes, M-Mr. Potter?"

"Does the Gytrash have any relation to the Grim?" I inquired.

He swallowed thickly as his eyes finally landed on me and lingered for more than a brief second. "Wh-what do y-y-you mean?"

"Though being documented white in color, I find that Gytrash has a few similarities to the Grim," I answered honestly, "I was wondering if you had any personal knowledge to either prove or disprove my findings."

The man shifted nervously. "W-well, I-I wouldn't s-say I have e-experience w-with either…"

I narrowed my eyes sharply. "Not even in the forest of Romania? I heard that Grims run wild there."

He winced as if I physically hit him.

"Are you alright, sir?" I asked as I straightened up even more.

"Y-yes," he said faintly, staring at me with a mix of anticipation and growing horror.

I heard the clock chime, signaling the end of class. As everyone else packed up, I abandoned my desk to approach the man. "Professor, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, have you ever come across a Grim?"

"W-well, yes," he replied, albeit hesitantly.

"How did you deal with the Omen of Lord Death?" I inquired curiously.

He narrowed his eyes a bit at the last part. "Lord Death?"

"Og, sorry. I assumed you would have done research into some of the quote, 'Dark Arts,' unquote," I said as I looked at him with mild disappointment.

"They're not Dark-" Quirrell cut himself off as he watched me give a twisted smile. "Wh-what's th-that expression f-f-for?"

"Oh, nothing," I waved off dismissively, "I simply received validation for my thoughts."

"V-validation?" Quirrell repeated questioningly as I turned heel and headed to my desk.

"Indeed," I approved as I packed up my things. I then put my bag's strap over my shoulder and headed to the door. I paused there, before looking back at him with a lazy grin. "You sound better without the fake stutter." I left his classroom behind, not at all worried about the dark expression he wore.

At lunch, which was the next part of the school day, he failed to show up.

I ate calmly, knowing the man was likely regrouping from his encounter with me. I had a normal rest of the day, and the week continued as if our chat didn't happen at all. I was in the library on Saturday, as I typically was when the rest of the school was watching Quidditch, when Professor Quirrell approached me. I looked up at him with a kind smile. "Are you not interested in the Quidditch match, sir?"

"No," he denied, his stutter gone, and his voice rather cold. "I wish to show you something."

"Very well," I said as I moved my chair back. I packed up my bag and followed the man from the library.

We walked through seemingly abandoned halls before coming to an empty classroom.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, are you truly as you said in your interview?" The man asked as I closed the door behind us.

I chuckled softly. "Words and actions don't typically add up when in Slytherin, though I'm assuming you know about that. You're basically a walking contradiction."

"Yes, I would…" He agreed softly as he held his hands behind his back. "Do you know why I would do such a thing?"

"I don't particularly care," I admitted honestly, "So long as you stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours."

Quirrell's lips curled up into a dark smile. "Is that so? What if I cut your way off here?"

"Is that a threat?" I asked as I forced my body to remain relaxed. "I don't take threats lightly."

"Oh, it's no threat," he said dismissively.

I hummed softly before straightening up. "Well, Quirrell, I'd have to say that my way can't be cut off so easily."

"And how is that?" He pressed.

"Well, you may try now, but I must say that you'll be sorely disappointed," I stated. "I will not be cut down quietly."

"I figured you'd say that," Quirrell said as he looked down at me with a calculating gaze.

"Forgive me for cutting this little chat short, but what did you wish to show me?" I inquired. "I still have homework to do, after all."

He gave a low laugh. "My master wishes to meet you."

"Does your master have a name?" I questioned.

"You'll know soon enough," he said as he began to unwrap his turban.

My brow furrowed before I realized he and his master shared a body. "Your master… Did he attach himself to you after the break-in at Gringotts?"

"Very astute," he praised in a rather mocking tone.

I felt a bit irked, but I quickly pushed that aside as I watched the last of the wrappings leave his head.

He turned heel abruptly, showing the snake-like face on the back of his head. There were red eyes, a slitted nose, and lips curled into a cruel smile. The lips opened, and a raspy voice began to speak. "I see you're not too surprised, Colton Potter."

"I try not to show such emotions on my face," I waved off dismissively. "Tell me, though, which title do you prefer."

"Title?" The second face pressed.

"What do you wish for me to address you as?" I clarified, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Dark Lord, perhaps something else?"

"You may address me as the Dark Lord," the second face said, confirming in my mind that it was truly him.

"Very well, why reveal yourself to me?" I questioned.

"You have potential," the mere shell of his former self said. "It would be a shame to waste your potential early, so I wish to make a deal with you."

"Very well," I said, "Name your terms and conditions."

His lips curled up. "I will not kill you today, and you will stay out of my way for the foreseeable future. It's as simple as that."

"How foreseeable is this future?" I inquired.

"Until I get the Philosopher's Stone," the Dark Lord stated.

"Ah, so that's why Harry was asking," I realized, "He must have heard information on it and believes that someone, probably Snape, is after it."

"Yes, that is the plan. After all, who would suspect Quirrell when compared to Severus?" The Dark Lord questioned.

"I would," I said without hesitation, "Quirrell should really work on his stutter. I'm sure a few others have figured out that it's fake by now, but they just choose to ignore it. Besides, even though Snape may just hate me, I doubt he would actively put a student in danger by helping to revive you. Call it an instinct if you will."

"Yes, Severus had seemed to lose his loyalty," he mused, "I fear Dumbledore has truly warped him during my absence."

I gave a hum of false interest, not particularly caring about the man in one way or another. "Well, this has been truly enlightening, but I fear that I must be getting back to the library. My papers won't write themselves."

The Dark Lord actually chuckled. "You act as though your grades will suffer. Rest assured, you won't be failing any of your classes by a long shot."

"Yes, but there's a difference between passing and being on the top," I pointed out. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bunch of first-years to dominate."

"I will be keeping an eye on you, Potter," the Dark Lord warned.

"I believe the feeling is mutual," I said as I confidently turned heel. I left the room behind, heading back to the library. I abandoned my previous studies and quickly began to look over different types of attachments spirits and/or non-beings could have to humans. After a long while, I eventually discovered that humans could be possessed by spectrals, which were basically humans who had departed from the world, though their souls still lingered. I was curious as to what made spectrals different from ghosts, so I did even more research.

It was close to dinner when another Slytherin approached me as I was pouring over another book on the subject. That Slytherin was Zabini, and he seemed interested in the books I was reading.

"I take it that we lost," I said softly as I flipped the page.

"Flint's in a rather sour mood," Zabini replied just as softly, confirming my thoughts.

I hummed in false interest as I continued to read through the large paragraphs explaining the differences between non-beings and spirits.

Zabini sat down beside me and picked up a book that I had already flipped through. He casually began to go through the pages, only to roll his eyes part of the way through. "These books are outdated."

I paused in my reading before looking at him carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, this book on the spectrals is out of date," Zabini said as he closed the book and put it back down on the table. "I expect them all to be out of date, really."

"Why?" I pressed. "What research has been done to disprove these books?"

"It's less research and more personal experience," Zabini waved off dismissively, "I'd equate spectral possession to the Imperius Curse."

"In what ways are they similar?" I asked.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk as he said, "Well, for starters, people under the Imperius Curse and those possessed by a spectral don't have any free will. They will simply follow the orders of the one who holds power over them."

"Do they have any free will?" I inquired.

"That depends on the power of the one who holds power," Zabini answered, "Both are conscious of the fact they are being played like a pawn, but most cannot resist the power being held over them. Those that can resist, even a bit, will have some free will in their decisions. However, their will to remain free will wane over time, and they will likely succumb to playing the part of the pawn."

I found that interesting as I sat back in my chair. "The strength of the individuals on both sides… What if someone should feel the need to be possessed? Will they retain any free will?"

Zabini eyed me carefully. "That depends on the spectral doing the possession. Should they feel their host is weak, they'll allow them to have some free will. The amount truly depends on what the spectral wishes to do."

I hummed softly before realizing he seemed to be waiting for something. "What information do you want from me?"

"Our agreement from earlier in the year…" He trailed off, looking at me expectantly.

I chuckled as I looked him in the eyes. "I remember the very last moments of my mother. I remember her screaming, pleading even, before a flash of brilliant green ended her life. If you were hoping for more, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

He shook his head. "Sacrificial magic is very powerful."

I remained silent, waiting for him to explain himself. When he didn't, I decided I'd look into that branch of magic as well.

"If I may…" Zabini looked at me curiously. "Will you tell me who's possessed?"

"That wasn't a part of any agreement," I denied, "Though I'm sure you should be able to figure it out based on your personal experiences."

He nodded once, accepting my words. He then took his leave, seemingly contemplative.

I cleaned up my area, putting my books back, before moving on to a different section of the library. I found that there was little on sacrificial magic to be discovered. With that disappointment, I headed down to the Great Hall and ate a quick dinner before returning to the Slytherin common room. I finished my earlier homework assignment before moving into the next one.

"Lights out, Potter," Farley called a few hours later.

"Understood," I said as I packed up my writings and returned to my shared dormitory room. I quickly set my bag down and changed into my pajamas before returning to my bed. The next day, I quickly ate my breakfast and read my newspaper over before returning to the library to do my homework in peace and quiet.

The Easter holidays came soon enough, and the teachers made sure to pile much more homework on everyone in preparation for the final exams.

I was in my element, already having good study habits. I was more than glad to throw myself into my work, and I couldn't wait to crush my main competitor for the best grades - Hermione Granger.

Quirrell was still getting paler and thinner, and Snape began to get quite irritated as the year slowly got closer to the end.

I figured that the two would soon have a battle for the Philosopher's Stone, but I refused to get involved in one way or another.

Nott ended up coming back from the Easter holidays looking surprisingly calm considering he probably got chewed up and spat back out by his father.

Malfoy came strutting up to me one day after break while I was in the common room. "I overheard your brother saying something funny, Potter."

"I'm not too surprised. It comes with being a fool," I commented dryly as I continued to flip through my book on the twelve uses for dragon's blood.

"He said that Hagrid's hatching a dragon," Malfoy said, clearly expecting me to have some interesting reaction.

"That so?" I asked.

"I saw it myself," Malfoy said casually.

"Fascinating," I lied.

"How would you feel about helping me get your brother expelled?" He asked, finally getting to his point.

"I have papers to write," I said, not at all interested in his little schemes.

"You're always writing," Malfoy pointed out.

"If you truly wish to get a leg-up on my brother, I suggest finding out what they're doing about the dragon. If you can catch them in the act, then I'm sure you can get them expelled," I offered, wanting nothing more than for him to leave me be.

Malfoy rubbed his chin before nodding, finding my suggestion to be a good idea. He then headed off, attempting to use his smooth brain to come up with a nefarious plan.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that Harry would manage to get lucky enough not to get expelled. I didn't particularly care to get involved, so I continued on with my homework essays.

About two weeks later, Malfoy eagerly came into the common room and over to me. "Your brother is going to get rid of the dragon on Saturday at midnight."

"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked incredulously, "Notify the Ministry?"

Malfoy paused for a moment, clearly considering my joke as an actual offer, before shaking his head. "No, I want you to help me catch them in the act."

"You think I want to run around the castle at midnight on a weekend, just to satisfy your childish urge to get Harry in trouble?" I reiterated, hoping he'd realize just how idiotic he sounded.

"First of all, it's not childish," Malfoy said, clearly a bit offended, "And secondly, yes."

"Why, in Merlin's great name, would I ever agree to that when you clearly don't have a solid plan?" I questioned.

"How do you know I don't have a solid plan?" Malfoy retorted.

I looked at him blankly, not at all amused by his childish response.

"Fine, I don't have a plan-"

"Which is why you shouldn't go in the first place. If you had a brain, you'd go and tell a professor-"

"I do have a brain, and that's why I can't tell a professor. Do you think they'd believe me without evidence?" Malfoy questioned.

"Do you think I actually believe you?" I asked incredulously. "I mean, come on. That bumbling fool has been hiding a dragon for how long, and his hut hasn't caught on fire-"

"I saw it!" Malfoy objected loudly.

"And how did you see it? Were you up close and personal, or did you only take a glimpse from through a window? How do you know it isn't some sick joke they're pulling to try and make a fool out of you?" I pressed, desperately hoping he'd see the logic in what I had said.

"Gryffindors aren't smart enough to pull those kinds of pranks," the blonde waved off dismissively.

I stared, gobsmacked, before pointing out, "I don't know about you, but when going against Granger, I'd at least take a hint of caution."

"Granger's some mudblood. She couldn't possibly-"

"Malfoy, do you know how many wars the muggles have been involved in worldwide?" I asked, hoping to put some logic in his head through other means.

He obviously didn't know the answer. "Er…"

"Two," I replied immediately, "There were two World Wars. They used some of the most underhanded tactics this realm of existence has ever seen, muggle or otherwise. Entire lineages were killed, just because of their religion. People had to lie and kill their way to survival. You're telling me that a girl who comes from a muggle family couldn't possibly be clever enough to create some underhanded tactic to make you make a fool of yourself?"

Malfoy looked quite contemplative before saying, "I'm sure I saw the dragon, and I'm sure that they're going to get rid of it Saturday evening."

"Report them to Filch, or, better yet, McGonagall. If she catches even a whiff of them out of their common room that night, I'm sure she'll give them all a severe talking to and quite possibly, several points off," I offered to the blonde.

He gave a slow nod before trailing off, looking like he was still in thought about the muggle World Wars.

I forced back a sigh as I continued to write my essay.

Saturday night came, and Malfoy sat down across from Nott. The two of them playing chess, seemingly engrossed with the subject of the upcoming exams, which were a few weeks away.

As time grew closer and closer to midnight, Malfoy seemed more and more squirmish.

When lights out arrived, I calmly crawled into my bed, all while ignoring how Malfoy seemed eager for action. I would learn the next day that Malfoy snuck out despite my warnings and lost Slytherin 20 points.

That, of course, paled in comparison to the 150 points my brother and his two friends lost Gryffindor.

With that, Slytherin was sure to win the House Cup at the end of the school year.

I felt a bit satisfied as Malfoy bemoaned his detention, as it was he who didn't listen to me. I nevertheless continued as usual, doing my work and otherwise keeping my head down.

As Harry walked in the halls, others didn't shy away from insulting him and pointing at him in jeering manners.

I briefly took note that the one Weasley stood by him, no matter what. I quickly dismissed it as unimportant, however, especially as the year wound to a close. I had more important things to worry about than some House points.

A week or so before exams were due to start, Malfoy had to leave at night for his detention. He left while dragging his feet, only to return at dawn looking as though he were truly traumatized.

I felt it was quite humorous, but didn't dwell on it much.

At least, not until Malfoy stalked over to me the next night, looking paler than usual. "Do you know of anything that drinks unicorn blood?"

"You are asking me because…?" I trailed off expectantly.

"Because you're undoubtedly the only one who believes in confidentiality," Malfoy answered, causing me to look up at him with a raised brow. "Look, do you know-"

"Wizards and witches drink unicorn blood," I answered as I returned my focus to my essay on Jupiter's moons and their meaning in Astrology.

"Why?" He pressed.

"To expand their lifespan," I answered honestly, "If you're close to dying, drinking unicorn blood will allow you to live longer. On the downside, you'll start to lose your physical prowess and magical abilities."

Malfoy was silent for a moment before saying, "There were a few centaurs out there, and they said something funny…"

"And that is…" I trailed off expectantly.

"Mars is bright," he quoted.

I paused before looking up at him seriously. "Are you sure they said that?"

"Erm - yes, why?" He inquired.

"War is coming," I answered honestly, "That's what they were saying."

His gray eyes went wide. "War?"

"Wars happen all the time," I said soothingly, "It'll probably be another muggle war, so don't worry."

Malfoy still looked worried as he departed, probably going off to write to his father or something to that effect.

I tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread that was growing in my stomach, but I eventually went to bed with a knot in my gut. As I tried to sleep, I was greeted with a screaming woman, a flash of light, and even a raspy cackling. I decided to give up on sleep early into the night and simply returned to the common room to stare into the fire.

The morning before exams started, Harry managed to drag me away from the other Slytherins, but only because he looked exceptionally worried. "Colton, have you seen Snape do anything important?"

"Important?" I repeated questioningly, raising an eyebrow to get my point across.

"Suspicious?" He reiterated, looking quite nervous as he glanced around.

"You're the most suspicious thing I've seen in the past week," I said honestly, "That, and Malfoy looked paler than usual after getting back from the Forbidden Forest."

"Look, I think Snape is trying to get the Philosopher's Stone here, and he's helping Voldemort," Harry blurted out just loud enough for me to hear.

I sighed heavily at that. "I think you'll be sorely disappointed-"

The bell rang, signaling that exams were just about to start.

"Look, I have to get to my Transfigurations exam," I said, "Don't do anything that'll get you expelled. I'm sure it'll all work out if you don't interfere." I then quickly rushed off, hoping to any higher being that Harry would keep his nose out of trouble.

There were both paper exams and practical ones. For the paper exams, one had to use Anti-Cheating Quills, which were charmed to, as you have probably guessed, prevent cheating. For the practical exams, each class had a different task. Flitwick had people make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. McGonagall had people turn noises into snuff boxes - points were based on how beautiful it looked, though they could be taken away based on any mouse-like features that may have remained. Snape had everyone boil a Forgetfulness Potion.

I was in my element, easily dominating the other first-years. I was annoyed by frequent stabbing pains coming from my scar on my collarbone, but those subsided once I focused my attention elsewhere.

The very last exam was written out. One had to simply answer questions about the wizard who invented Self-Stirring Cauldrons from memory. Once Professor Binns told everyone to put their quills down, a large majority of students cheered loudly.

I, unlike the vast majority of students, went back to the library and began to check my answers from the exams. Once I was satisfied that I got everything correct, I decided to enjoy just a bit of sunlight. I was meandering down to the front doors of Hogwarts when I spotted Professor Snape hovering over Harry and his two friends. "Good afternoon, Professor."

Snape turned his gaze toward me with a raised brow. "What are you doing inside?"

"Checking my answers on my exams," I answered honestly.

He hummed softly before turning to the other three. "I doubt you three are doing the same."

"I don't know about the other two, but I requested Harry to see me," I lied smoothly, "Come along, Harry."

My brother looked immensely relieved as he motioned for his friends to follow after me. He waited until we got back outside to sigh in relief. "Thanks, Col-"

I turned sharply and gave Harry a stern look. "I told you to keep your nose out of trouble, did I not?"

Harry winced away from me. "But-"

"I don't care what you think Snape is doing. He's not going after the Philosopher's Stone. If I were you, I'd send a covert letter to Dumbledore explaining everything. Then, I would keep my head low until he comes back. You don't know where the Stone is being kept and/or all the obstacles that are involved in getting the Stone," I lectured.

Harry tried to keep a straight face, but failed.

"Ah… So you know at least partially how to get to the Stone, and you don't think Snape is smart enough to have gotten there by now," I realized before shaking my head. "Harry, you realize that Dumbledore is more than capable of beating another professor and even the Dark Lord if push comes to shove, yes?"

"Dumbledore is gone," Harry blurted out fretfully, "He's flying to London right now."

"Then send him an owl," I said with the utmost exasperation. "So long as the owl is more intelligent than Goyle, it should be able to not only catch up with, but also find Dumbledore in the process."

"We should," Granger said, clearly seeing the logic in my point.

"In the meantime, you should keep your heads low," I warned, "There's no need to draw attention to yourself and get in trouble."

Harry gave a nod, though that look in his eyes told me that he'd be getting himself in all sorts of trouble.

I internally sighed as I nodded once before leaving him to his idiotic plans. I returned to my original path and headed over to the Black Lake. I eventually rested a bit of a ways from everyone else and sunbathed like a lazy snake in the summer.

Soon, dinner arrived, and with it, the end of an otherwise uneventful day.

I was sitting around in the common room casually when I began to grow frustrated with the noise. I waited until the common room was empty before realizing that my scar was aching fiercely. I felt quite annoyed with the pain, which turned out right burning the more time passed. I left behind the common room with the intent to go to Madam Pomfrey, only to stumble upon the stairs as I watched a certain girl sprinting toward the entranceway of the castle. "Granger! Where's Harry?"

The girl stopped briefly to quickly rant, "Harry's in danger! He went to go stop Snape all by himself-"

"Idiot boy!" I hissed angrily, "It's Quirrell after the Stone!" I quickly left her behind and quickly rushed toward Snape's office. I basically barged in, ignoring how the door should have reasonably been locked.

"Potter!" The man yelled furiously as he looked up from grading the exams piled up on his desk. "T-"

"Harry went after the Philosopher's Stone!" I interrupted before he could yell at me. "Quirrell's bound to kill him!"

The man paled rapidly before standing up. He grabbed his wand and went to a nearby shelf, grabbing a potion bottle, before sprinting past me.

I followed after him urgently. "Should I get McGonagall?"

"She's asleep by now," Snape said with a grimace. "Go to Pomfrey and have her ready for the worst case scenario."

I quickly left his side as we reached the stairs to the forbidden third floor corridor and over to the hospital wing. I all but broke the door down, my scar aching fiercely as I continued to move until I made it to her office. "Madam Pomfrey! Wake up!"

The woman quickly came out while making sure her bathrobe was tightly tied over her nightdress. "What in heaven's name-"

"Harry and his ridiculous friends went after the Philosopher's Stone," I interrupted quickly, "Snape wants you to get ready for the worst case scenario."

"Understood," she said seriously.

I nodded once before turning heel and running off. I had a brother to keep alive. I didn't want to have to go back to Privet Drive alone, no matter what I may have said about him to indicate otherwise.

At the third floor, a monstrous three-headed dog was teetering between awake and asleep.

"Sorry," I apologized before using the Confundus Charm on it. I jumped through the trapdoor by its front paw and landed down on some moving. I remained still for a moment before identifying the wriggling plant as Devil's Snare. I whipped my wand up as I yelled, "Lumos Maxima!"

The ball of light from the tip of my wand caused the plant to quickly squirm away from me.

I pulled myself to my feet and rushed through a long corridor, making the wand light disappear as I did so. I rushed past the door with a key with wings that was still wriggling in the keyhole. I made it to a large room with a chess board that had several broken chess men on it. I was going to pass the board by, but I saw Weasley on the side. I internally cursed as I begrudgingly hurried to his side. I patted his cheek a few times, soliciting a groan of pain from the boy. "Good, you're alive. Stand up."

"It hurts-"

"It wasn't a question, Weasley," I hissed at the boy. "My brother went after the Dark Lord, and you were stupid enough to let him."

The redhead remained silent for a moment before his brown eyes snapped open. "Wait - what?!"

"You didn't realize the Dark Lord was already with him, did you?" I asked in disappointment. I tutted loudly before saying, "No matter. Snape is cleaning up your mess-"

Just as I said that, Snape came clambering out of the next chamber, holding my unconscious brother in his arms. He saw me, scowled, and said, "Twenty points from Slytherin. I told you to go to Madam Pomfrey's, did I not?"

"And I did," I stated, "I came as your backup."

The man looked exasperated with my response. "I am more than adequate-"

"I'll help Weasley if you carry Harry," I interrupted.

"He's awake?" Snape asked, forgetting any pathetic objections he may have had. He hurried over and looked down at Ron with the utmost disapproval. "You and your dunderhead friends have quite an explanation to give."

Ron groaned as he closed his eyes.

"Get up," I demanded.

"I can't move my leg," Weasley said as he lifted his head to look down at his left leg.

I cast a quick "Lumos" and looked down at his pant leg, which was torn and exposing a mildly bleeding wound. "I'll levitate-"

Without even speaking, Snape flicked his wand and caused Weasley to levitate into the air.

Harry floated from his arms and floated next to Weasley.

The redhead looked at my brother with the utmost anticipation. "Is… is he-"

"He's alive," Snape said as he began to walk, making the two float before him.

"Is Quirrell dealt with?" I asked as I followed behind Snape.

"He was adequately taken care of, yes," Snape assured me.

"Quirrell?" Weasley repeated as if shocked.

I scoffed at the boy. "You think any other professor would be willing to host the Dark Lord on the back of their head?"

Weasley looked like he still had several objections. "B-but… Quirrell was always trying to protect the Stone-"

"Incorrect," Snape tutted as we moved past the room with the keys and the Devil's Snare with the help of a light from my wand. He walked over the wall on the other side of the chamber and began to feel around the stone.

Before I could ask him what he was doing, the wall suddenly opened, revealing a secret corridor.

The four of us moved into it, using my wand's light to navigate the corridor before coming out in the dungeons.

I hummed softly as I made a mental note of that. I quickly abandoned the thought as we made for the hospital wing.

We were just getting to the first floor when Hermione came sprinting down the stairs toward us, Dumbledore right at her heels.

"How are they?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

"They're alive, but they need medical attention," Snape explained.

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed before turning heel. "Let us hurry then."

The six of us made our way to the hospital wing, where Hermione, Ron, and Harry were given beds as Pomfrey began to feet over them.

I was happy to leave it at that, as my scar had stopped hurting so badly. I was unable to simply leave, however, as Snape rounded on me.

"How did you know that blasted-"

"Severus," Dumbledore said warningly.

"Your brother went with his dunderhead friends. That, I can understand," Snape said before narrowing his black eyes at me sharply. "What were you doing when you happened upon Miss Granger?"

"I was heading to Madam Pomfrey's to get a potion for my pain," I said honestly, "I've been dealing with an ache all exam week, and it's driven me to the point of actually seeking help."

The man with black hair frowned. "What's been aching?"

"My scar," I said dismissively.

"Scar?" Dumbledore echoed, sounding surprised.

"Harry and I have matching scars," I stated as I pulled down the collar of my shirt, revealing the lightning bolt-shaped scar on my left collarbone.

"I see…" The old man said softly, a worried look in his blue eyes.

"I believe it's connected to the Dark Lord," I said honestly, "Whenever the back of Quirrell's head faced me, I frequently felt the pains. I dismissed the aches as unimportant so long as I wasn't in any danger, though I believe now that they indicate the Dark Lord's power usage."

"What do you mean by that?" Snape asked.

I decided explaining wouldn't hurt. "Whenever the Dark Lord's using his power to influence Quirrell, I believe I have been feeling this ache. I also felt it strongly ache tonight as Quirrell made his way through the various enchantments, though it became quite painful around the time I believe that Harry began to fight against Quirrell."

"You should have a pain potion just in case," Snape said as he ushered me toward where Pomfrey was working on Weasley.

"I'll live now that the pain's dimmed down," I said before looking back at Snape. "The Dark Lord simply retreated, didn't he? He isn't dead like Quirrell, correct?"

The grim face that Snape made answered my question without any need for words.

"I figured," I said as I turned my head forward.

"How did you know that Quirrell and the Dark Lord were one and the same?" Snape pressed.

"Oh, I confronted Quirrell on his fake stutter, and he ended up showing me the Dark Lord on the back of his head. Quite a disappointment, if I must say," I lamented with a heavy sigh, "I was expecting the point of my fascination to be more… overwhelming. There's another interest of mine wasted."

"Have you had interests in others before?" Snape asked with little tact.

"Just one," I answered honestly, reminiscing about the one that I still occasionally found lingering interest in, "I don't remember anything about him, really, just his image. He's an older man, around fifty. He has short, black hair, dark brown eyes shaped like almonds, and a rather charming smile, though it's obviously fake. He was pale, but not in a sickly way. I believe he wore a suit, but everything below the face is a bit fuzzy for me."

Snape looked pale as he stood beside me, looking like he was growing quite ill from the mention of the man. "Do you recognize him from anywhere?"

"No," I answered with another sigh, "Though, I do find myself wondering about him every now and then."

He looked a tad bit worried, but didn't open his mouth to further the conversation. He didn't know it, but he had given me my first glimpse into what I wanted to know.

Pomfrey chose that moment to approach me. "Were you injured, too?"

"No," I denied, "I simply have an ache that I wish to have a pain potion for."

"How bad is the ache?" She pressed as she put her hands on her hips.

"Not bad, at least not anymore," I waved off dismissively.

"It is better to be safe than sorry," Snape stepped in.

Pomfrey nodded in approval. "You give me a few minutes, and I'll get that potion for you."

"Of course," I agreed at once. I was left to stand there as she turned her focus back toward Weasley.

"If you're allowed to go back to the common room, I expect you to go straight down," Snape said, "Dumbledore and I must deal with Quirrell."

"Yes, sir," I said as I nodded politely.

He looked suspicious of me before turning heel and walking off toward Dumbledore, who seemed to be waiting for the younger man.

I refocused on the floor before me and eventually was given a potion for my pain, along with strict instructions to come back should I start feeling pain again. I was then dismissed and told to be careful on my way back down to the dungeons. I quickly left the hospital wing behind and went down to the Slytherin common room. I was more than grateful to return to my own bed and lay down, tired from the events of the night.

The next morning, news began to spread throughout the school that something had transpired the night prior.

I was reading my newspaper calmly as I waited for someone to come confront me with the news that I had basically run all over the school last night in an attempt to save my foolish brother. Once breakfast was finished, I went outside to soak up more sun.

Oddly enough, it was Greengrass that first approached me. She had her hands on her hips as she narrowed her green eyes at me. "You were busy last night," she accused as she stood over me.

"Your point, if you will?" I asked lazily.

"Rumor has it that you faced the Dark Lord last night," she accused right away.

"Those particular rumors are false," I said honestly.

She gave a suspicious hum before sitting down next to me. "You surely wouldn't have gone to save your brother if you didn't know something was wrong."

"I have a reputation to uphold," I stated as I closed my eyes, going back to relaxing before the summer holidays.

"No one here believes that," she tutted, "I want your real reasoning."

"Who are you to demand such information from me?" I questioned, my tone light despite the graveness of the situation.

"I'm the only one brave enough to demand answers," she answered sharply.

I barely held in a snort. "You doubt Nott and Zabini both?"

"They were strictly forbidden by Snape from pressing you for answers about last night," she informed me.

I hummed softly before finally sitting up, opening my eyes as I did so. "Very well, I can see that you're persistent. I did, in fact, assist in saving Harry's life. I didn't do so out of compassion, but rather because I happened across Granger on my way to the hospital wing. If I didn't jump into action, I would have surely been seen as a danger to the rest of the witches and wizards in the school, which would leak to the outside world. I only did what I did because it would allow me to remain in the good graces of the wizarding world. Nothing more, nothing less."

She took that all in before sighing in a rather unladylike manner. "I expect that you'll pretend like you had Harry's best interests in mind."

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Would I truly be a Slytherin if I did anything less?"

Her lips curled up into a small smirk. "I suppose not."

"Exactly," I said as I turned my gaze to the Black Lake. "Now, I'm sure you'd like to go gossip about this to the other Slytherins."

"I can make them wait," she said as her smirk grew. "You're not too bad of company, quieter than Parkinson for sure."

I chuckled as I laid back down, getting comfortable on my patch of grass, basking in the sun.

"Oh, yes," she said as if suddenly remembering something. "How long have you known about the Dark Lord's presence?"

"I'd say a little while before the exam week," I answered honestly, seeing no harm in doing so.

She hummed softly before sitting back a bit.

Silence drifted between us for a few minutes, and we both basked in the peace while we could.

Eventually, that peace was broken by Davis stomping over. "Daphne, you said you'd watch me beat Parkinson in Chess!"

Greengrass gave a heavy sigh before standing up, gently wiping the lingering grass in her skirt as she did so. "Duty calls."

"Have fun," I said as I gave her a lazy grin.

She huffed before taking her leave with Davis.

I got comfortable as she did so, having no intentions of leaving that spot until absolutely necessary.

As it turned out, it became absolutely necessary to leave my spot as Snape briskly approached. "Potter, Dumbledore would like to have a word with you in his office."

"Of course, sir," I said as I got up. I flicked my wand at my robes, causing all residual grass to fall to the ground. I followed after the rather tense man through the castle and to a large gargoyle that blocked a doorway.

"Black Licorice," Snape said to the gargoyle, who nodded once before stepping aside. He turned to me, his face devoid of emotion. "Go ahead."

I nodded once as I stepped into the moving spiral staircase. I ascended up, trying to ignore the nerves in my mind as I did so. I straightened up as I reached an oak door and knocked before being permitted to enter. I did so, and I approached the desk of the headmaster, not at all diverting my gaze towards the various knickknacks and other devices that littered his office.

There were various portraits of former headmasters, all of whom appeared to be sleeping, but obviously weren't considering it was the middle of the day.

"You asked to see me, sir?" I asked calmly as I stood before the desk of a surprisingly stoic Dumbledore.

"Yes," he confirmed as he straightened up. "I was wondering how you feel?"

"I… feel alright, sir?" I replied in a questioning manner, not knowing exactly what he was referring to. "Yourself?"

"I am a bit distressed," he admitted to me, "I received word that you know Voldemort was amongst our midst."

"Ah, that," I said, relaxing myself. "Yes, I knew. In exchange for him not killing me before my exam week, I wouldn't interfere in his plans to get the Philosopher's Stone. I imagine that deal is completely null now that the Philosopher's Stone is out of reach." I gave a smirk as I looked down at the shock blatantly across the old man's face. "Come now, surely you knew the Dark Lord was amongst us as well. After all, why tempt my Gryffindor brother with the Philosopher's Stone in the first place if you didn't have a plan?"

"I don't know what you're referring to," Dumbledore said, his voice suddenly cold.

"Ah, perhaps Hagrid orchestrated it then," I mused as I rubbed my chin. "I mean, how would Harry know all about the Stone, its location, and how to get it within his grasp without some guidance?"

His blue eyes were like ice as he stared at me cautiously. "Do you honestly believe that Hagrid would do such a thing?"

"Sir, I find it hard to believe Harry wasn't coerced, be it intentionally or otherwise, into playing the part of the hero," I said honestly, "My brother is just gullible enough to believe it for the greater good to defeat the Dark Lord and greet the wizarding world as some sort of savior."

"Do you believe it wise to allow the Dark Lord to live?" He inquired.

"Merlin knows he's too pathetic to achieve his goals as he is now," I commented, waving off the notion of being a danger to anything but the truly weak.

He hummed as his blue eyes pierced deep into mine. Finally, he sighed before sitting back in his seat. "I see. You are dismissed."

I left without feeling any pity for the old man that still looked a bit distressed.

The last quidditch match happened that Saturday, and Gryffindor was crushed, and the End-of-Year feast was soon upon the school.

The Great Hall was decked out in the colors of silver and green, celebrating Slytherin's victory over winning the House Cup for a seventh year in a row.

All of the other students had arrived by the time Harry showed up. He seemed quite small as he sat between Granger and Weasley, clearly trying not to be seen as people stood up to look at him like he was some exhibit at the zoo.

Fortunately for Harry, Dumbledore arrived mere moments later. He smiled cheerfully as he made it to his seat at the high table. "Another year gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth onto our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads a little fuller than they were… You have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

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

A storm of cheering and stomping broke out from the Slytherin table.

Malfoy even banged his goblet against the table, a true display of childish pride.

"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin," Dumbledore said as he gave a wry smile, "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The hall fell silent as everyone processed those words.

"Ahem! I have a few last minute points to dish-out. Let me see. Yes… First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley!" Dumbledore exclaimed, "For the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Gryffindors' cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver.

After a long moment, there was silence again.

Dumbledore smiled as he continued, "Second - to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Gryffindor was just beside itself, having increased their ranking by one hundred points.

"Third," Dumbledore said, "To Mr. Harry Potter…"

The room went quiet again, eager to hear any inkling of the truth of what happened that night.

"For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points," he stated.

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four-hundred and seventy-two points, the same ass Slytherin.

It was a shame that it was a tie, but I was certain that Slytherin would lose in the end. Resigned to defeat, I sat back in my seat some.

Dumbledore raised his hand, silencing the Great Hall once more. With a smile, he said, "There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up for our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

The sheer loudness of Gryffindor's explosive cheers basically damaged peoples' eardrums.

Harry, Granger, and Weasley stood up and cheered for Longbottom, who while in shock, disappeared under the pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before, and now he had just won them the House Cup.

I hummed softly before shrugging. "Well, we aren't last, at least."

"Our win was stolen from us," Zabini said with a dark look of annoyance.

Snape looked quite cross as he stared at the headmaster, who tapped his chin.

"I believe…" He said softly, and the noise quickly stopped as everyone looked at him, "We need a little change in decoration." He clapped his hands together.

In an instant, the green and silver turned to crimson and gold. The large serpent on the banners turned to a towering lion.

Poor Snape had to shake hands with McGonagall, clearly upset over having lost in such an unfair manner.

The feast tasted good, regardless of who won the House Cup.

Finally, exam results came back.

Naturally, I had the best marks out of everyone in the first year, barely beating Granger in some subjects.

It was a miracle that even Goyle and Crabbe passed, but they did.

And so, trunks were soon packed, and the common rooms left barren. Of course, before leaving, everyone was given a strict warning to not use magic during the summer. There was no use risking exposing the Wizarding World over the summer, as expulsion was imminent. First-years went across the lake once more in boats, and everyone got on the Hogwarts Express to return to their normal homes and houses.

I got comfortable with Davis, Greengrass, and Zabini in my compartment, reading to begin getting ahead on the summer homework that was due at the beginning of next year.

"Typical Potter," Davis said in a teasing sort of tone.

"I won't crush the competition by playing nice," I tutted.

She gave a bark of laughter, and Zabini snickered softly.

Greengrass just smirked as she shook her head.

The other three soon fell into a conversation that allowed time to pass peacefully.

I just continued reading until the train inevitably arrived at the platform. I tucked away my book and made sure my trunk was locked. I then sighed as I said, "Another two months with muggles…"

"You sound so happy," Davis said sarcastically.

"Would you be happy if you lived with muggles?" I asked as I raised an eyebrow.

"Fair enough," she said with a shrug.

I nodded once before straightening up. "Well, at least they don't know about my inability to use magic over the summer. Well, so long as Harry doesn't tell them, that is."

Zabini grinned as he asked, "So, you'll be keeping them in line this summer?"

"Of course," I said with a nod.

People leaving the station through ordinary means had to leave by pairs of three.

I ended up going out with two Ravenclaws, and they immediately departed from my side to go find their awaiting relatives. I, meanwhile, headed over to where Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were waiting with Harry and some dumpy-looking witch that was probably a Weasley if the red hair was anything to go by.

"You sure took your time, boy," Vernon said with gritted teeth.

"Patience is a virtue," I tutted, and he glared fiercely at me.

"Let's go," Vernon snapped before leading us out to his car.

I gave a sharp grin as I followed, eager to scare his family into submission during the upcoming summer.