Can Things Change

James wasted no time opening the book to the correct page and starting the next chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN The Man With Two Faces

It was Quirrell.

Alastor looked smug, while James and Sirius looked at the man in confusion. Sirius was the one who asked what several people were thinking though. “How did you figure it out?”

“They’ve always had a reaction whenever he is mentioned,” Kingsley said.

“The lassie knocked him over during the Quidditch match,” Alastor grunted. “That’s what sealed the deal for me.”

“You!” gasped Aurora.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn’t twitching at all.

“Me,” he said calmly. “I wondered whether I’d be meeting you here, Potter.”

“But I thought — Snape —”

 “Severus?” Quirrell laughed, and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp.

“Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?”

“He faked that ridiculous stutter for a whole year,” Remus gaped in indignation.

“Yep,” the trio all said. “Made it impossible to learn anything either,” Aurora added.

Aurora couldn’t take it in. This couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. 

“But Snape tried to kill me!”

“No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match.” 

Alastor looked at the others in what could be assumed as a smug way for him.

“She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I’d have got you off that broom. I’d have managed it before then if Snape hadn’t been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you.”

“Snape was trying to save me?”

“Thank you Severus,” Lily whispered, her throat clogged with emotion, as she nudged James.

James sighed, “Thank you for saving our daughter.”

“Of course,” said Quirrell coolly. “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 couldn’t 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 you tonight.”

Remus growled lowly. This man had tried to kill his cub.

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Aurora.

“This is that little second year in Ravenclaw right?” Barty asked. At the nods of confirmation from the time travelers he added, “I’ve tortured him, he had very low power levels, there is no way that he can conjure ropes and direct them to wrap around Aurora.”

Aurora smirked, and nodded to the book. He can have those power levels if he is sharing his body with Tom, she thought to herself.

“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.”

“But that’s not what you were doing,” Marlene said, looking confused.

“Yes well I’m always getting blamed for things that I didn’t do or wasn’t doing,” Aurora shrugged.

Columba scowled, “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

“You let the troll in?”

“Certainly. 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 to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly.”

“But if Sev had suspected Quirrell, surely he would have let the Headmaster know,” Regulus muttered, confused. 

Aurora looked at Regulus and gave a slight nod that no one else noticed. This just made the younger Black scowl. Why was nothing done about Quirrell sooner if Dumbledore knew about him, or was everyone correct in saying that this was all a test for Aurora?

“Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

It was only then that Aurora realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the 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…”

All Aurora could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

“Good,” Alastor praised, “You always want to keep your enemy distracted.”

“I saw you and Snape in the forest —” she blurted out. 

“Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me — as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…”

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

“I see the Stone… I’m presenting it to my master… but where is it?”

“I'm afraid it’s not going to be that easy,” Dumbledore said with a slight chuckle. He now realized why he had asked Phineas for his permission to use the mirror.

Aurora struggled against the ropes binding her, but they didn’t give. She had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

“But Snape always seemed to hate me so much.”

 “Oh, he does,” said Quirrell casually, “heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn’t you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead.”

‘How could I ever want the child of Lily dead,’ Severus thought to himself. ‘Even if that child is also the child of James Potter.’

“But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing — I thought Snape was threatening you…”

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell’s face.

“Sometimes,” he said, “I find it hard to follow my master’s instructions — he is a great wizard and I am weak —”

“You mean he was there in the classroom with you?” Aurora gasped.

“He is with me wherever I go,” said Quirrell quietly. “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.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “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…”

“He was in the school?” McGonagall asked, shock coloring her tone.

The time travelers just nodded. Aurora clutching onto Fred’s hand. She hated Quirrell, hated what he had made her do at 11 years old. All because he didn’t like being laughed at and thought that Voldemort would give him recognition.

Quirrell’s voice trailed away. Aurora was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley — how could she have been so stupid? She’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron.

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

“I don’t understand… is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?” 

Aurora’s mind was racing.

What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, she thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it — which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I’m up to?

“When you think things like this I’m reminded why you were in the top five of our year,” Draco chuckled. He knew Aurora was smart, but there were times when it was so easy to forget when she did something so incredibly stupid.

Aurora glared at him playfully while Hermione and Ron nodded their heads in agreement with Draco. 

“It's the same way with James,” Remus scowled. “He doesn’t even try and he’s ranked number three in our year.”

She tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around her ankles were too tight: she tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored her. He was still talking to himself.

“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”

And to Aurora’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

“Use the girl… Use the girl…”

Everyone was staring at the book in James’ hands. Lily was clutching onto his arm, hiding her face.

Quirrell rounded on Aurora.

“Yes — Potter — come here.”

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Aurora fell off. Aurora got slowly to her feet.

“Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

Aurora walked toward him.

I must lie, she thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.

Lucius let out a dark chuckle, while Dumbledore said, “That won’t work.”

“The Dark Lord knows when someone is lying,” Lucius muttered.

Aurora nodded her head, “I didn’t know at the time about Legilimency or Occlumency.”

Quirrell moved close behind her. Aurora breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell’s turban. She closed her eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

She saw her reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at her. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket — and as it did so, Aurora felt something heavy drop into her real pocket.

Somehow — incredibly — she’d gotten the Stone.

“How?” Sirius and Regulus both asked.

“It’s explained in a bit,” Aurora assured.

“Well?” said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?”

Aurora screwed up her courage.

“I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore,” she invented. “I — I’ve won the quidditch cup for Gryffindor.” 

“That’s rather believable,” Frank said. 

“Why didn’t you tell him what you saw over Christmas?” Marlene asked. “Then you wouldn’t have technically been lying, that just wasn’t what you were seeing at the moment.”

Aurora looked confused for a moment, before stating, “I didn’t actually think of that in the moment.”

Quirrell cursed again.

“Get out of the way,” he said. As Aurora moved aside, she felt the Sorcerer’s Stone against her leg.

Dare she make a break for it?

But she hadn’t walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn’t moving his lips.

“She lies… She lies…”

“Potter, come back here!” Quirrell shouted. “Tell me the truth! What did you just see?”

The high voice spoke again.

“Let me speak to her… face-to-face…”

“Master, you are not strong enough!”

“I have strength enough… for this…”

Aurora felt as if Devil’s Snare was rooting her to the spot. She couldn’t move a muscle. Petrified, she watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Aurora would have screamed, but she couldn’t make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face Aurora had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

“Dear Merlin…” Most people in the room gasped. Dumbledore leaned forward, not quite able to cover the curiosity on his face in time before the Auror’s, Amelia, and the time travelers saw it.

Aurora, seeing the state that her parents were in, went over to sit in front of them again, although this time she was joined by Fred and Neville on either side of her. Neither of them wanted her to be too far from them at the moment. She had never told Fred the full story of what had happened her first couple of years at school, and for Neville it was clear that Aurora had left a lot out of her retelling of what had happened. He was now even more worried about what happened in their second year.

“Aurora Potter…” it whispered.

Aurora tried to take a step backward but her legs wouldn’t move.

“See what I have become?” the face said. “Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another’s body… 

“How is that possible?” Columba asked.

“Very old, very dark magic,” Pandora, Luna and Aurora all said together.

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?”

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Aurora’s legs. She stumbled backward. 

“Don’t be a fool,” snarled the face. “Better save your own life and join me… or you’ll meet the same end as your parents… They died begging me for mercy…”

“We would never,” Lily snarled. Aurora shook her head sadly. Her mother had begged for mercy in a way, but not for herself. Again Aurora marveled at the way that Tom was able to twist the truth just enough.

“LIAR!” Aurora shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at her, so that Voldemort could still see her. The evil face was now smiling.

“How touching…” it hissed. “I always value bravery… Yes, girl, 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 her to have died in vain.”

“If you are alive then my death would never be in vain,” Lily assured, putting her hand softly on Aurora’s shoulder.

“And I would have done everything in my power to try and keep that mad man away from you,” James said.

Aurora couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. Here were her parents telling her how they would protect her and die for her, and she couldn’t even tell them that the reason they were dead was sitting in the same room as them. Couldn’t tell them that James didn’t even have his wand on him when they were attacked because they trusted a rat. Couldn’t tell them that Lily didn’t need to die because Severus was so obsessed with her that he begged Voldemort to save her for himself as a war bride.

Fred and Neville tried to soothe her as best as they could, but motioned for James to continue reading. The quicker he read, the sooner this confrontation with Voldemort was over.

“NEVER!”

Aurora sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed “SEIZE HER!” and the next second, Aurora felt Quirrell’s hand close on her wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Aurora’s scar; her head felt as though it was about to split in two; she yelled, struggling with all her might, and to her surprise, Quirrell let go of her. The pain in her head lessened — she looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers — they were blistering before his eyes.

“Seize her! SEIZE HER!” shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Aurora clean off her feet landing on top of her, both hands around Aurora’s neck —

“YOU NEVER MENTIONED THAT MADMAN WAS CHOKING YOU!” Neville and Hermione shouted. Fred had pulled Aurora on to his lap and was stroking her hair, more to soothe himself than Aurora at this point.

Aurora’s scar was almost blinding her with pain, yet she could see Quirrell howling in agony.

“Master, I cannot hold her — my hands — my hands!”

And Quirrell, though pinning Aurora to the ground with his knees, let go of her neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms — Aurora could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

“Then kill her, fool, and be done!” screeched Voldemort.

Lily and Alice both whimpered in fear.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Aurora, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face —

“AAAARGH!”

Quirrell rolled off her, his face blistering, too, and then Aurora knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch her bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain — her only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. 

Alastor gave a grunt and nodded his head approvingly. This girl was very clever for an eleven year old, figuring out how to prevent herself from dying against an older opponent who had Voldemort on his side.

Aurora jumped to her feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as she could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Aurora off — the pain in Aurora’s head was building — she couldn’t see — she could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL HER! KILL HER!” and other voices, maybe in Aurora’s own head, crying, “Aurora! Aurora!”

She felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched from her grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down… down… down…

“Were you okay?” Marlene asked.

“Just severe magical exhaustion,” Aurora assured.

Something gold was glinting just above her. The Snitch! She tried to catch it, but her arms were too heavy.

Aurora received several incredulous looks from her fellow time travelers in the room. Fred just let out a chuckle, that was his mini-Wood.

She blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

She blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above her.

“Good afternoon, Aurora,” said Dumbledore.

Aurora stared at him. Then she remembered: “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick —”

“I highly doubt Dumbledore would be so calm if Voldemort had the stone in his possession,” Fabian and Gideon assured.

“Calm yourself, dear girl, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.”

“Then who does? Sir, I —”

“Aurora, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.”

Aurora swallowed and looked around her. She realized she must be in the hospital wing. She was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to her was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

“Ahh, my first time in my bed,” Aurora joked.

“Tokens from your friends and admirers,” said Dumbledore, beaming. “What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. 

“The rumors were ridiculous,” Draco scoffed.

“I can only imagine how some people spun it too,” Regulus sighed. As a Black he knew how things could be twisted from good intentions to something nefarious very easily.

I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.”

The tokens that she had received made more sense now. Everyone wanted to be associated with the Girl-Who-Lived again after hearing some fabulous story of what happened. Of course any stories told would be a complete fabrication, like those children's books about her, as she was the only one other than Quirrell in that room, and from the lack of his presence in the Hospital Wing, Aurora could assume that he had died. She would deal with the fact that she had killed a man later.

“Oh Rory,” Sirius murmermerd, “you didn’t kill him.”

“In a way I did,” Aurora said, “But you are also correct because he was dead that minute he let Voldemort share his body.”

“How long have I been in here?”

“Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried.” 

“We were worried, yes,” Ron started.

“But I don’t think anyone came close to being as worried as Neville was,” Hermione finished.

“I couldn’t help but think that if I had been a better wizard you would have taken me with you,” Neville groaned. “Maybe I could have helped you in some way, or had your back or something.”

Alice got up and hugged her son, whispering, “You helped her keep her peace of mind, sometimes that’s all the support a person needs.” Neville nodded his head. He knew that too, but at eleven it was something that he was still learning.

“But sir, the Stone —”

“I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say.”

“You got there? You got Hermione’s owl?”

“We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you.”

Sirius and James both growled, reading between the lines of what the Headmaster wasn’t saying. Instead of apperating back when he realized that he hadn’t been called to the ministry, he flew back. All of the happenings could have been prevented if Dumbledore hadn’t taken his time in return to the castle.

Kingsley, Alastor, Amelia and Andromeda had come to the same conclusions as James and Sirius. Kingsley and Amelia wondered what Dumbledore was playing at, more convinced than ever that those protections weren’t there to prevent people from getting to the stone but as a test for Aurora and her friends.

“It was you.”

“I feared I might be too late.”

“You nearly were, I couldn’t have kept him off the Stone much longer –”

“Not the Stone, dear girl, you — the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed.”

“I highly doubt that,” Alastor chuffed. He also had his suspicions that the stone that was hidden in the castle was not the real Philosopher’s Stone.

“Destroyed?” said Aurora blankly. “But your friend — Nicolas Flamel —”

“Oh, you know about Nicolas?” said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. “You did do the thing properly, didn’t you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it’s all for the best.”

“But that means he and his wife will die, won’t they?”

“They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die.”

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Aurora’s face.

“To one as young as you, I’m sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all — the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.”

“There are more important things in the world than money,” Arthur said.

“And life is not worth living if you don’t have someone you love to share it with,” Molly agreed. 

Aurora lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling. 

“Sir?” said Aurora. “I’ve been thinking… sir — even if the Stone’s gone, Vol-, I mean, You–Know-Who —”

“Call him Voldemort, Aurora. Always use the proper name for things. 

“Then why don’t you call him Tom?” Aurora asked. When there was no answer for several long moments, James continued reading.

Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”

“Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?”

“No, Aurora, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. 

“Sometimes it’s his enemies that are better off than his followers,” Draco sighed, unconsciously rubbing his left forearm. This action drew the attention of his parents, causing them to wince. 

“He is much more merciful to his enemies than his followers,” Aurora agreed. “A couple cruico’s, if you’re unlucky, a killing curse and it’s over for his enemies. If you are a follower it’s mental invasions and torture and taking your fortune for his own use and destroying your manor and syphoning your magic from you so slowly that you don’t even realize it till many years later and you are almost a squib.”

Barty, Severus and Regulus all looked at Aurora with terrified faces, even with their expressionless masks on their faces, there was no mistaking the terror in their eyes. While Lucius and Narcissa looked at each other sadly. 

Nevertheless, Aurora, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time — and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”

It took all of Ron, Hermione, and Aurora’s willpower to not look at Peter.

Aurora nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made her head hurt. Then she said, “Sir, there are some other things I’d like to know, if you can tell me… things I want to know the truth about…”

“The truth.” Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you’ll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.”

“Well… Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?”

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

“Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day… put it from your mind for now, Aurora. When you are older… I know you hate to hear this… when you are ready, you will know.”

“I was ready at eleven,” Aurora sobbed. “Waiting only made it worse.”

“Trying to preserve the childhood of someone who has never had a childhood only causes more pain to all those involved,” Luna said airily.

And Aurora knew it would be no good to argue.

“But why couldn’t Quirrell touch me?”

“Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.” 

“He doesn’t even know a mother’s love?” Molly asked, sympathetically.

All the Weasley’s looked softly at their mother and how caring she was for anyone who needed it. 

“He was born in an orphanage,” Aurora said. “You’ll learn more in the next book and in the sixth book.”

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Aurora time to dry her eyes on the sheet. When she had found her voice again, Aurora said, “And the invisibility cloak — do you know who sent it to me?”

“Ah — your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Useful things… your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here.”

“But why would I let him have it?” James asked. “It’s been in our family for centuries.” He wondered if Dumbledore believed the legends behind the cloak. It was rubbish in his opinion, his cloak wasn’t Death’s own invisibility cloak.

Luna stared at him for a moment, a small smile on her face, and said “Every tale has elements of the truth in them, and all families have hidden secrets.”

“Luna,” Aurora warned softly. Luna just smirked back at her before  

“And there’s something else…”

“Fire away.”

“Quirrell said Snape —”

“Professor Snape, Aurora.”

“Yes, him — Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?”

“Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.”

“What?”

“He saved his life.”

“That is not what happened,” Severus snarled.

“Now is not the time,” Aurora said, letting her power permeate the room. “It will be discussed more in the third book. Until then I want to hear nothing else about that incident that you know nothing about other than your own preconceived notions,” she added with a glare at Severus, daring him to continue.

“What?”

“Yes…” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace…”

Severus glared at the Headmaster. Aurora shook her head sadly at how well she had been played.

Aurora tried to understand this but it made her head pound, so she stopped.

“And sir, there’s one more thing…” 

“Just the one?”

“How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?”

“Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone — find it, but not use it — would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. 

“That is rather clever,” Alastor grumbled, still upset with his friend.

My brain surprises even me sometimes… Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them — but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”

“Probably not toffee,” Sirius and Remus chuckled.

“If it looks like toffee,” Fabian said.

“It’s probably ear wax,” Gideon finished.

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, “Alas! Ear wax!”

The Prewitt twins had smug looks on their faces.

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

“Just five minutes,” Aurora pleaded.

“Absolutely not.”

“You let Professor Dumbledore in…”

“Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest.”

“I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey…”

“Oh, very well,” she said. “But five minutes only.”

“She actually let you have visitors?” Remus asked, shocked.

“I’m special like that,” Aurora joked.

“More like Ro tried to get up and leave when she was told that people couldn’t visit her,” Neville snitched. Aurora shot him a glare that he just ignored.

And she let Neville, Ron and Hermione in.

“Aurora!”

Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around her again, but Aurora was glad she held herself in as her head was still very sore.

“Oh, Aurora, we were sure you were going to — Dumbledore was so worried —”

“The whole school’s talking about it,” said Ron. 

“What really happened?” Neville asked.

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Aurora told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. The three of them were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Aurora told them what was under Quirrell’s turban, Hermione screamed out loud. Neville had gone pale and was gripping her hand so hard that it hurt, not that Aurora would ever tell him that. 

“And yet even with your retelling,” Hermione grumbled, “you seem to have left several details out.”

Aurora looked down sheepishly. She didn’t like worrying her friends, and what she had told them already had them worried and scared, she didn’t want to add to that by telling them how Voldemort taunted her with her parents, or how a Professor had tried to choke her to death, and when that didn’t work tried to kill her with magic instead.

“So the Stone’s gone?” said Ron finally. “Flamel’s just going to die?”

“That’s what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that — what was it? — ‘to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.’” 

“I always said he was off his rocker,” said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

“So what happened to you two?” said Aurora.

“Well, I got back all right,” said Hermione. “I brought Ron round — that took a while — and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall — he already knew — he just said, ‘Aurora’s gone after him, hasn’t she?’ and hurtled off to the third floor.”

“He really did set you up didn’t he?” Lily and Sirius asked sadly.

Aurora just nodded in return. 

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Neville. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?”

“Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Aurora thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…”

“It is terrible,” Amelia stated angrily.

“He set you up to face a full grown wizard, with Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head, with no training, other than the basics of first year,” Kingsley said.

“Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron proudly. “Listen, you’ve got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course — you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you — but the food’ll be good.”

“How did you miss the last match?” James asked. “It’s usually much earlier than the last month of school.”

All the time travlers looked at him confused. The last match had always been held in the last week of school as long as they had been there.

Seeing the confusion on their faces, James sighed, “I guess the schedule was changed at some point.”

“1984,” Luna stated. “That was the year that Professor Snape complained that his Slytherins weren’t getting enough study time in for exams, because of Quidditch practices and the final, so Dumbledore had the final moved to after all the exams were done.”

“But that makes no sense,” Sirius said, sending a look at both Dumbledore and Snape. “If you don’t have to worry about the Quidditch final in the last month of school, you have more time to study for your exams.”

No one had anything to say, so James continued.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

“You’ve had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT” she said firmly.

After a good night’s sleep, Aurora felt nearly back to normal.

“I want to go to the feast,” she told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened her many candy boxes. “I can, can’t I?”

“Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go,” she said stiffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn’t realize how risky feasts could be. “And you have another visitor.”

“Oh, good,” said Aurora. “Who is it?” 

Hagrid sidled through the door as she spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Aurora, took one look at her, and burst into tears.

“It’s — all — my — ruddy — fault!” he sobbed, his face in his hands. “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 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!”

“I don’t think Hagrid told him anything that he didn’t already know,” Alice said.

“I think it was just confirmation of what he had already found, as well as a way to distract people because there would be a dragon on the school grounds,” Lily agreed.

“Hagrid!” said Aurora, shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. “Hagrid, he’d have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we’re talking about, he’d have found out even if you hadn’t told him.”

“Yeh could’ve died!” sobbed Hagrid. “An’ don’ say the name!”

“The only name he hates more than Voldemort, is calling him Tom Riddle,” Ron said.

“VOLDEMORT!” Aurora bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. “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 wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, “That reminds me. I’ve got yeh a present.”

“It’s not a stoat sandwich, is it?” said Aurora anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

“Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. ‘course, he shoulda sacked me instead — anyway, got yeh this…”

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Aurora opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at her from every page were her mother and father.

“Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ fer photos… knew yeh didn’ have any… d’yeh like it?”

“Did you bring it with you?” James asked. 

Aurora nodded, “I’ll show it to you tomorrow.”

Aurora couldn’t speak, but Hagrid understood.

Aurora made her way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. She had been held up by Madam Pomfrey’s fussing about, insisting on giving her one last checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin’s winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. 

When Aurora walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. She slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at her.

“They really are fickle aren’t they,” Peter fumed.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

“Another year gone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “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 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 and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Aurora could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

“Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin,” said Dumbledore. “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

“No,” Lily and Alice gasped.

“He’s not going to do what I think he is, is he?” Andromeda demanded.

“He is,” Draco sighed, he was still upset about what had been done. The least Dumbledore could have done was award the points before the feast, instead of getting Slytherin’s hopes up by saying they won and then taking it away from them right after.

“Well that’s not going to help anyone,” Sirius growled. 

“Especially not the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor,” Remus said.

“Or Aurora, who is getting rewarded for breaking the rules instead of being punished,” Lily added.

“It really did make things a lot harder on me with the rest of the school for my following years,” Aurora admitted. “I just didn’t realize it at the time. It took me until mid summer to realize what had been done and the consequences of it.”

The room went very still. The Slytherins’ smiles faded a little.

“Ahem,” said Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…

“First — to Mr. Ronald Weasley…”

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

“… for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

Ron and Fred looked at each other with wry smiles on their faces; it wasn’t often that Percy praised any of his younger siblings, or even Charlie half the time.

At last there was silence again.

“Second — to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Hermione buried her face in her arms; Aurora strongly suspected she had burst into tears. 

“I did not!” Hermione exclaimed, though the redness of her face belied her words.

Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves — they were a hundred points up.

“Third — to Miss Aurora Potter…” said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. “… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

“Why give you 60 points, when Ron and Hermione only got 50 points?” Peter asked.

“Becasue she faced Voldemort obviously,” Sirius said, like he was talking to a child.

“But no one knew that,” Fred interrupted. “Of all the stories that went around the school, not one of them involved her fighting off Voldemort.” Adding under his breath, “at least not until several years later.”

“To separate her even more from her fellow year mates,” Regulus sighed, looking everywhere in the room but the Headmaster. “By giving her more points than Ron and Hermione, who’s deeds he actually said what they were earning points for, but leaving Aurora’s more ambiguous and giving her more, he’s saying that she’s more important and that you don’t need to know what she did.”

James just scowled at his Headmaster. Meanwhile Alastor and the other Professor’s in the room were looking at Dumbledore with extreme disappointment. They were far from pleased with the man, and this was only the first book. What else would he put this young woman through in her remaining years at school.

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points — exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup — if only Dumbledore had given Aurora just one more point.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

“There are all kinds of courage,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “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.”

Alice beamed at her son, while Frank gave a cheerful whoop. Neville blushed in embarrassment, yet was happy at the praise from his parents.

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Aurora, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. Aurora thought that he deserved more than just 10 points for what he did. He was the one who should have received the most points in her opinion. It didn’t matter to Aurora about the stupid house cup, though winning was nice, what really mattered was Neville finally getting the recognition that he deserved from someone other than Professor Sprout. 

Frank just sighed sadly at the reminder that the only people to build his son up were Aurora and the Head of a different house than the house that he was sorted into. Not even his son’s own grandmother could bother building up his confidence, and what little confidence he did have was crushed whenever he had a potions lesson. 

Alice made a vow right then that no matter what she would change her son's future for the better. Never again would he son be put down or belittled, whether by family or by a teacher. And the first person to try it would face the spell end of her wand.

Aurora, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn’t have looked more stunned and horrified if he’d just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.

“We couldn’t believe that he had actually just done that,” Blaise sighed.

“It was beyond unfair,” Draco added. “We would have been angry, but we would have accepted that we lost if the points had been given before the feast.”

“We all heard the rumors, and knew that something major had happened with those three that was really worthy of the points that they earned,” Blaise said, pointing at Aurora, Ron and Hermione.

“But by not awarding the points until the feast, and literally taking Slytherin’s win away from them right then and there…” Draco trailed off. Everyone in the room nodded in agreement with him, they could all see how unfair to the Slytherin’s Dumbledore had been by doing what he did.

“Which means,” Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, “we need a little change of decoration.”

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall’s hand, with a horrible, forced smile.

“This really could have been done before the feast, Albus,” McGonagall said.

“There was plenty of time from what Miss Potter has described,” Sprout added, feeling for the children who had just been robbed of a fair victory.

“Tensions were very high next year between Slytherin and Gryffindor because of this,” Amice admitted.

 He caught Aurora’s eye and Aurora knew at once that Snape’s feelings toward her hadn’t changed one jot. This didn’t worry Aurora. 

“Only way to change his feelings about me is to change my father to him,” Aurora grumbled to Fred and Neville.

It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.

The time travelers all burst out laughing. 

“I’m not sure I like this,” Sirius sighed. If the rest of Aurora’s school years were like this one he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t talk James and Lily out of sending her to Hogwarts to begin with.

“I don’t know,” Neville laughed. “Third year was pretty tame.”

“Best year I ever had at school,” Aurora beamed.

It was the best evening of Aurora’s life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls… she would never, ever forget tonight.

Aurora had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great surprise, both she and Ron passed with good marks; Hermione, of course, had the best grades of the first years.

Remus looked at James and Sirius, “Sounds like us.” James and Sirius both nodded in agreement. They always did better than expected on their exams, even without all that much time spent revising.

Ron quickly covered Hermione’s mouth with a kiss, while Aurora said, “Yes we know and we thank you for making us revise. We would be lost and alone without you.”

Hermione pulled away from Ron blushing. She knew they were teasing her, but she also knew how much they valued her as well.

 Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn’t have everything in life. 

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville’s toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays (“I always hope they’ll forget to give us these,” said Fred Weasley sadly); 

“We always hoped they would forget them too,” Fabian said.

“But it’s people like us,” Gideon added.

“That are the reason those notes are given out in the first place,” Aurora finished for them, sending a knowing glance at them as well as Fred. This caused the time travelers, as well as the other Weasley’s in the room to laugh.

Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King’s Cross Station.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

“You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron, “both of you — I’ll send you an owl.”

“Not that you actaully got the stupid letters,” Ron grumbled. 

Everyone looked at the two, what could have happened that prevented Aurora from getting her letters. She had mentioned something the night before about a mail redirection ward, was that the reason?

“Thanks,” said Aurora, “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

“Bye, Aurora!”

“See you, Potter!”

“Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at her.

“Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Aurora.

Everyone was reminded that Aurora was going back to the Dursleys.

Lily didn’t even want to think about what her sister and her whale of a husband would do to her baby during the summers now that she was actually learning magic. It had been bad enough when Aurora had no idea that she was a witch.

She, Neville, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mom, there he is, look!”

It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.

“Aurora Potter!” she squealed. “Look, Mom! I can see —”

“Awe, that’s so cute,” James and Sirius teased.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Fred and Ron both warned when they saw their sister pull out her wand.

The two Marauders chuckled, but let it go for the moment.

“Be quiet, Ginny, and it’s rude to point.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.

“Busy year?” she said.

“Very,” said Aurora. “Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Oh, it was nothing, dear.” 

“Ready, are you?”

It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Aurora, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Aurora.

“You must be Aurora’s family!” said Mrs. Weasley.

“They are not your family,” Amice argued. “They don’t know the meaning of the word family.”

Aurora really wanted to point out that Dudley now did, but she didn’t think that would be well received at the moment. She also didn’t want to spoil things for everyone who didn’t already know that her cousin had actually turned out to be a decent human being.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Uncle Vernon. “Hurry up, girl, we haven’t got all day.” He walked away.

Aurora hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione.

“See you over the summer, then.”

“Hope you have — er — a good holiday,” said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

“Oh, I will,” said Aurora, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over her face.

“They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…” 

“But Petunia would know that you couldn’t do magic outside of school,” Lily protested.

“Her and Uncle Vernon refused to even admit that I had magic, so I don’t think she ever told him that I wasn’t allowed to use it outside of school,” Aurora said. “And the only person I ever taunted about using magic against that summer was Dudley.”

Lily nodded in understanding. 

“That’s the end of the book,” James sighed. “Please tell me that they are not all that bad.”

“They aren’t all that bad,” Aurora said confidently, while thinking to herself, all but third year are much worse.

“For some reason that isn’t that comforting,” Sirius sighed. Many others in the room agreed with him.

“I think we all need to head to bed,” Hermione spoke up. “We can sleep in late tomorrow, and start the next book around 10 tomorrow morning.”

After everyone agreed they all headed to their respective rooms, noticing that a few more doors had appeared in the hallway. Apparently Aurora was bringing in more people from the future.