#it's been a while since i've seen such a nightmare that i've woken up and actually cried

[tripably]

.

[everybodyshusband]

Hiiii, first of all how are you doing? I hope you are okay.

Can I ask a SwissDrop angst/comfort? I was craving some and couldn’t really found

Have a great day 🤍🌸

hi! i'm doing alright, i hope you're doing well <3 thank you for your request, it's been very fun to write ! i hope you don't mind that i've used it as a mushy may prompt?

comfort after nightmare / thunderstorms

mushy may ; day thirteen !! (approx. 1.6k words)

read under the cut or on ao3 :)

They’ve been fighting for a week.

Swiss can’t even really remember what started the fight in the first place; all he knows is that Dewdrop’s mad at him for some reason, and he is mad at Dewdrop for the same reason. Whatever the reason is, Swiss is sure it’s something dumb and pointless; it usually is, when the two of them fight. But regardless of how annoyed he is at Dew—for whatever reason that may be—he hates it. This. Fighting. He hates having to spend time away from his partner, considering that, in any other situation, the two of them would be joined at the hip.

He can’t see an end in sight, either. Dewdrop is a spiteful being—he can hold a grudge forever; Swiss has seen it happen before—who, when fighting with someone, can and will refuse to talk to them until the other person approaches him first, and Swiss isn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of apologising to Dew, especially since he’d have to admit that he doesn’t even remember why they’re fighting; it probably won’t end well for either of them. So, naturally, it comes as a surprise to Swiss when he’s woken up in the wee hours of the morning by none other than Dewdrop himself.

- - -

The knock on Swiss’ door is so quiet that the multi ghoul wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t awake already; or maybe it only seems quiet because the soft sound is drowned out by a poorly-timed thunder clap. As it is, the multi ghoul is sitting on his window sill, watching the thunderstorm outside, when the knock sounds.

“It’s unlocked!” He has no idea who could be knocking on his door this late—he knows Sunshine is scared of storms, but she usually goes to Cumulus if she’s scared… Maybe it’s Rain, or Aether, he thinks; something on one of their minds keeping them awake as the storm rages on, so now they’ve come looking for a distraction?—but he’s glad he doesn’t need to get up and open the door for them, whoever they are; it’s cold, and he doesn’t want to move from the sill, despite knowing that the window is the coldest place in his room.

At the sound of the door squeaking open—he really must ask someone to get that fixed—he turns to his intruder, opening his mouth to greet them before all sound dies in his throat, save for the wary growl in his throat as his tail begins to sway from side to side uneasily.

“Uhm, h– hi, Swiss…” Dewdrop stands in front of the open door, a blanket around his shoulders, shivering slightly. His voice shakes when he speaks, and any instinct Swiss has to yell at the fire ghoul to get the fuck out vanishes into thin air along with his growls the moment he notices just how scared Dewdrop looks. “I– I didn’t know who else to go to. ‘M sorry.”

As nervous as the little ghoul sounds, Swiss can’t help but admit how nice it is to hear his voice again. Especially after a week of only being granted the pleasure of hearing it from a distance, echoing down the Abbey’s hallways in the opposite direction.

“I– I can go. I shouldn’t’ve– Fuck, ‘m sorry… I’ll– I’ll go. I’ll go.”

Swiss watches as Dewdrop begins turning around and shuffling out his door slowly. “Dew, wait–” The fire ghoul turns back around slowly, the slightest touch of hope on his face. The obvious hope on Dewdrop’s face doesn’t stop him from flinching back when Swiss approaches him. He crouches down until his face is level with Dewdrop’s. “Sundew, what’s going on?”

“Can– Can I stay for a while?” Dewdrop wraps the blanket tighter around his shoulders; he’s scared Swiss will turn him away. His avoidance of the question doesn’t go unnoticed by Swiss either; he files it away for later. “Please?” He adds, almost as an afterthought. “I– I won’t stay long, I promise.”

Swiss moves to reach for his partner, but stops just shy of his shoulders, recalling the terrified look on Dewdrop’s face when he approached him without warning. “Can I touch you, baby? Can I give you a hug?”

Dewdrop nods hesitantly, subconsciously leaning towards Swiss’ outstretched arms, and immediately, the multi ghoul envelops him in a hug.

Swiss whispers a “thank you” in Deewdrop’s ear and then goes quiet, giving the fire ghoul time to wrap his arms around him and reciprocate the embrace. It’s only after a few minutes have passed that Swiss realises Dewdrop is shaking in his arms; crying. He’s doing an impressive job of hiding it, but now that Swiss is aware of it, he can’t let his partner suffer in silence.

He pulls away and Dewdrop lets out the saddest, most pathetic little cry of anguish Swiss thinks he’s ever heard, his hands scrabbling to grip onto Swiss’ shirt, presumably in an effort to keep the multi ghoul close.

“No, no you can’t!” His cries are so quiet that Swiss can barely hear his words over the sound of rain against the windows. “Swiss, you can’t leave! That’s how it– You just– you can’t!”

Swiss stares down at Dewdrop in confusion, still holding the little ghoul’s arms; he’s not sure if a lack of physical contact will make Dewdrop worse or better, but he doesn’t want to risk distressing him even further. “‘That’s how it’ what, baby? What’s going on, sundew?”

Dewdrop curls in on himself and grabs onto Swiss’ shirt even more tightly; Swiss is surprised the fabric hasn’t ripped from the grip of the fire ghoul’s claws. “I– I had… I had a nightmare…” 

His voice is so quiet—almost ashamed—that Swiss has to ask him to repeat the question.

“I had a nightmare,” Dewdrop repeats, his face buried deeply into the multi ghoul’s chest. “Dreamt that you– that you left and I tried to find you but  I couldn’t and… and–” The fire ghoul cuts himself off, sobbing pathetically into Swiss’ shirt, and the multi ghoul can’t find it in himself to do anything but comfort his distressed partner. “Then I woke up and there was this fuckin’ storm, and you weren’t with me and I–”

“Oh, baby, no,” Swiss interrupts, desperate to stop Dewdrop from spiralling any more than he already is. “No, I’m here, see? Yeah, look up at me if you can… That’s it. You can feel my shirt in your hands, too, yeah?” Swiss’ shirt tightens around his chest in lieu of an answer; Dewdrop must have balled it even tighter in his fists. “Focus on that, ‘kay, baby? That’s it, well done, sundew. I’m here. You’re with me. You’re safe.”

The multi ghoul tightens his hold around Dewdrop as the little ghoul cries into his chest, rubbing his shoulders and back comfortingly until his sobs have time to subside; until Dewdrop pushes himself away with an embarrassed squeak, as if he’d barely registered what he’d been doing.

“Fuck, sorry. I’ll– I’ll go now, it’s– Shit, I’m sorry, I– Ah!” Dewdrop jumps right back into Swiss’ arms at the clap of thunder that now accompanies the pattering of rain against the multi ghoul’s windows. “Sorry. I’m sorry. There– there was a storm in– in my dream…”

“Oh, sundew,” Swiss coos, again rubbing the fire ghoul’s arms over the blanket still draped over him; Dewdrop’s shivering, but Swiss doesn’t think it’s from the cold, despite his open window. “How ‘bout we go back to bed, hmm? I’ll keep yah nice and safe,” Swiss promises, kissing Dewdrop’s head to solidify his words.

“Y– yeah,” Dewdrop agrees. “That– that sounds nice.” His words are interrupted by little squeaks of fear that have him burying his face in Swiss’ chest again and again every time a clap of thunder rolls in through the window.

“Yeah, I thought so. C’mon, sundew. Let’s go to bed.”

Swiss leads Dewdrop over to his bed, slowly unwrapping the blanket from around the fire ghoul’s shoulders. He makes sure to place it over the rest of his sheets once he’s tucked Dewdrop in. He knows the little ghoul has trouble sleeping without this specific blanket near his person, although he’s never managed to figure out why. Swiss thinks it might have been a gift from one of Dewdrop’s old packmates; the ones that Dewdrop still, to this day, spends sleepless nights crying over; the ones who make the fire ghoul’s eyes light up with joy whenever he talks about them; the ones Swiss never got to meet.

It doesn’t take long to get Dewdrop to settle into the bed with him, and before Swiss even has so much as a chance to ask if the fire ghoul would rather talk about his dream or be distracted from it, he’s curled up into Swiss’ side and snoring softly. Swiss chuckles to himself, making a mental note to speak to Dewdrop in the morning—they still have a lot to talk about, and most of it isn’t related to the fire ghoul’s dream—before allowing himself to snuggle down next to his sleeping partner. He pulls the blankets tighter over them both and wraps an arm around Dewdrop’s waist, keeping the fire ghoul tucked cosily into his side as he feels his own eyes beginning to drift closed.

He has just enough time to whisper a soft “goodnight, sundew” against Dewdrop’s hair before he’s drifting off to sleep himself, allowing his eyes to slip closed into a world of blissful, calm, dreamless sleep.

[quigonswife8]

Stiles Stilinski x reader who suffers from nightmares

Warnings: nightmares.

gif creds: @mercheswan

Gotten obsessed with teen wolf again after years. I've been a fan since I was 13, it means a lot to me :)

A/N: This is Stiles now, not when he was in highschool.

-----

-The first time Stiles had seen you suffer from a nightmare, was 2 years ago.

-The first time you had stayed over- correction; the first time he'd made you stay over after the large influx of murders circulating the area. You'd fallen asleep before him.

-He'd stayed up to check through papers when he'd hear your muttering.

-He'd not realised this was a nightmare, rather than a dream.

-Until the muttering got louder and you screamed, and woken in a cold sweat.

"Nightmare."

-Stiles rushed over to you.

"(y/n)."

-His worried face was the first thing you saw when your eyes fully adjusted.

-But you were too shaken up by the nightmare to say anything. The tears fell, your face pale.

"I'm here."

-His hands had rested against your arms.

"I'm here."

-

-When Stiles finds out that you not only suffer from nightmares, but frequent ones, he'll be surprised but also apologetic.

-He suffers from nightmares but not as much as he used to, but he does know how it feels.

-He'll stay with you while you go through it, and afterwards.

and he can tell when you have a nightmare pretty quickly.

-but he won't touch you because he won't want to freak you out.

he will stay by your side and wait for you to either settle down, or wake.

-The only time he'll wake you is if the nightmare is too serious and you'll risk hurting yourself.

-Will hold you if that's what you want, but if not, then he'll just talk to you to get your mind off the nightmare.

-Likes to tell you about his day and gets you talking, too.

-He always has such a way with words so he always knows what to say.

-He likes pulling out your favourite boardgame, sometimes, and you'll play until you're both too tired or you'll fall asleep.

-He also doesn't sleep [if it's like 3 in the morning] until you're okay.

Who cares if he has work that day, he cares more about your wellbeing.

-Besides you do the same for him, so he wants to do the same for you.

-Is your shoulder to cry on, and your rock, in general, but if your nightmare is really bad, he's just that.

-Loves you + cares for you more than anything, which is why it hurts this much to see you suffer from nightmares.

----

[randomly-a-fan]

Malon's Guardian Angel Pt. 2

Part 1

MJ didn't have a choice, Malon and Jason voted her out to keep the dog for a while. Once the dog entered the house, he immediately hopped onto the couch. "Well, there goes my seat." MJ said glumly. "I'm going to take a nap." MJ added, as she walks towards her room and shuts the door. Jason just stares at the door for a few minutes until he turns back towards Malon and the Saint Bernard. "Dad... How come mom doesn't like dogs?" Malon asked while snuggling against the dog. Jason doesn't exactly know how to answer her question, since it's been a while since MJ's parents came over, and showed him some family photos, then the subject came up to how MJ hated their dog. So, he only shrugged to Malon's question.

In the middle of the night, MJ was tossing and turning, as she was having a nightmare; thank goodness that Freddy Krueger wasn't the one responsible. But her nightmare was how a Saint Bernard that same into their home, was actually the murderous dog that attacks people, and it charged right at her. MJ jolted up in shock and fright before lying back down to sleep. That is, until she heard panting.

The Saint Bernard was standing next to MJ's face, which indicated that Jason forgot to shut the door on his way back from the middle of the night perimeter check. "Shoo! Get!" MJ snapped in a silent but loud tone. "Get out!" MJ added in a loud tone. When the dog didn't move, MJ got up and escorted her out of the room, until the dog jumped onto her spot on the bed. "NO, GET OFF." MJ yelled in a quiet tone. Only, the dog fell asleep. "Stupid dog!" MJ said as she barged out; she would have slammed the door, but she didn't want to scare Jason.

MJ was sitting on the comfy recliner and decided to sleep on that, since the dog didn't lie on it. MJ doesn't like the warm feeling of the spot that the dog was on; she doesn't know why, but in her head, it's like having a naked guy sitting or lying down on the couch, no thank you. When morning finally came, Jason woke up with, for some strange reason, he doesn't find his wife on her side of the bed, but the dog on the bed. Jason isn't cold-hearted though; he gives the Saint Bernard some love in the morning. Now, he needed to get up to look for his wife.

Jason's heart broke when he saw MJ sleeping awkwardly on the recliner, the position she was in looked so uncomfortable. Jason gently woken up his wife and escorted her to her room, so she can get proper rest. "After I get some sleep, I'm going over to Eric's place for the day; I want to be away from the stupid dog!" MJ said angrily. Jason nodded, while thinking that she's just saying that because she's tired.

Malon then woke up and happy to see the dog again. "Hi girl!" Malon called excitedly, giving her a hug. "Where's mommy? I thought I've heard her voice." Malon asked her dad. Jason pointed towards the door then placed a finger on his lips, telling her to be quiet. "Oh, okay... I'll take her out for a walk then." Then she made the dog follow her. "Come on girl, let's go for a walk." She called out to the dog. The dog barked before she followed.

As Jason was about to check on his wife, he heard the door knock. He took a peek and saw that it was Papawise. Since the summoning, he was all weak and helpless, he can barely stand. Jason lets Papawise in and gave him a hand. "Now, Bucko! I may be weak, but I'm not dead yet." He laughed. "Actually, I came because I'm looking for my dog, a Saint Bernard, you haven't seen it around didn't yeh?" Papawise asked. Jason was shocked, could the Saint Bernard that Malon befriended with, be Papawise's dog? "Cujo is his name, he terrorizes people, and kills and brings back some children for me, he's a big help since my condition." Jason sighed in relief that Malon's Saint Bernard wasn't Papawise's; since he said 'he' and the dog that Malon found is a girl. But then he was shocked to what else Papawise mentioned. 'Cujo? is that the dog that the rumor talks about?' Jason asked himself in his head. "Ah, so you did hear about him, yeah, that was Cujo, he's a real savage beast and I love him. Well, can't stay for long, do inform me if you've seen him, would you? his complexion can't be too hard to spot, he's all dirty and covered in dried up blood." Papawise described.

Hearing about Cujo gives him shivers, he hoped that he, or/and his family, didn't have to face that dangerous dog. Malon was just outside of her home when she saw Papawise. "Hi Papawise!" Malon greeted. "Hello Malon, you're looking well..." He said as he petted her head, then he turned to look at the dog that Malon was with. "I see that you've found a missing dog." Papawise notices with a smile. "No, she's a stray, I know because she's not wearing a collar." Malon explained. Papawise chuckled. "That's not what I have smelled, she had the same scent as that little victim that I've gone after..." The Saint Bernard was barking angrily, remembering the time what that clown did to her little master. "Girl, shhh! What's the matter?" Malon tried to calm the dog down.

Papawise chuckled, as he assumes that the dog remembered that day when he tortured the little master and then ate her. "I better get going... OH... And Jason, do give me a shout--uh... or uh... Give me a call--uh... Well... I'll check in on yeh, okay goodbye." Papawise left after that. Jason shook his head slowly to Papawise's ignorance. Then he saw that the dog whimpered as she lower herself, missing her family. "I think she misses her home, daddy." Malon said in concern. Jason crouched down to look at the dog, he then petted her to calm her down. "If what Papawise said is true... Do we need to return her to her real home?" Malon asked. Jason placed his hand on her back and nodded slowly; only because it's the right thing to do.

MJ was going to snap from the window from hearing the dog barking at Papawise; it reminded her of the time when her parents had a boxer, and she keeps barking at random people that come by, it drives her insane, it kept her out of the family bond because of that stupid dog. Still, MJ does feel sorrow when she sees Malon looking so sad, she didn't know what to do. So... She decided to not go over to Eric's and try to get used to the dog for a while longer, for her daughter sake.

***

A couple of hours later, MJ was still with her family. Jason was glad that MJ decided to stay home, since he's worried about her running into Cujo. "Malon, I thought that maybe later, we can take the dog out to the park, so I can at least try to get along with the dog." MJ suggested. Malon smiled big. "Really? That's great... But, if you don't mind me asking... How come you don't like dogs?" Malon asked. Jason turned his head towards MJ, as he wanted to know the reason for her hatred to dogs. "It's not that I hate dogs, I'm alright with small breeds and well-trained dogs. My parents had a puppy a long time ago, a boxer; they got her because my baby niece has experienced death of her previous boxer that she loved so much. She's not a good dog as she grew bigger. She sniffs the inappropriate area, she jumps every time I come back home for a visit, and she doesn't even let me hug my mom, she'll just jump up and ruin the bond..." Then I took a few breaths. "That's why I have no likings to dogs, and I never want to own one." MJ explained.

Malon and Jason stared at each other as they started to understand her point of view. "Well... I know dogs do strange things, but they're just being themselves, you just have to be patient with them, I got the love for animals from my daddy." Malon explained. Jason sits proudly to what his daughter just said. "I know sweetie, it's just hard for me to get used to that doggy behavior, which is why I thought I make it up to you and the Saint Bernard." MJ admits.

So, it turns out that MJ and Malon go out for a walk with the Saint Bernard by their side. "I'm sure you'll grow to like her mom, I understand what you've been through, and I understand that I can't make you love dogs." Malon assures. MJ giggled. "Well, there are some dogs that I'm alright with; such as small breeds of dogs, since they can't reach the crotch." MJ knows that it's okay to say that word, since in school, Malon was in the age where they learn about the male and female anatomy. "And I respect well-trained service dogs, since they're well-trained and know how to behave; they're good for people with a mental disability." MJ explained. Malon was fascinated by what her mom just told her, even though she already knew what service dogs do and stuff like that.

As they all got closer to the park, they didn't realize that they were being watched, and it wasn't Jason, but a furry animal with the tendency to attack.

Jason was just checking the perimeter of the camp until he heard two girls screaming. "JASON!" When Jason heard his wife, he knew that she and their daughter are in danger. Jason quickly speed walked as fast as he could to reach his two girls, while MJ and Malon were running for their lives from the murderous dog. But then, Malon tripped on a gopher hole. "MOMMY!" Malon cried. "MALON." She screamed as she ran back for Malon. That's when Cujo leaped and was about to finish them, until the other Saint Bernard leaped out of nowhere. "Girl!" Malon exclaimed. Jason came to the scene as MJ and Malon watched in panic when their Saint Bernard attacks roughly with Cujo. Jason doesn't think the girls should see this scene, so he strongly picked his two girls up like they were logs on each shoulder. "Daddy wait! What about my friend!" Malon cried. Jason knew that she was talking about the Saint Bernard, but he knew that he needed to keep the girls safe and bring them back to the house.

After Jason left the girls to check on the Saint Bernard, MJ was checking to see if Malon sprang her ankle. "It doesn't look swollen..." MJ observed. "I don't care about my ankle, I'm worried about Jewel!" Malon exclaimed. "Jewel?" MJ raised her eyebrow. "That's what I'm naming the Saint Bernard." Malon explained. Just then, they both heard a noise.

They took a peek out the window and saw that Jason is coming back with the injured Saint Bernard in his arms. "Jewel!" Malon rushed out in panic. Jason kneeled down and placed the Saint Bernard gently on the ground. "She's hurt, we have to do something!" Malon cried as tears run down her cheeks. MJ crouched down to Malon's height. "We'll take her to the animal hospital, they'll save her." MJ assures, even though deep inside, she's not sure if she will survive this serious case.

To Be Continued

[rosebergs]

Hey guys!

So I've been trying to get into writing again after taking a break for a while during university, and I've been so inspired by so much of the work that is on this F1 space. This is a snippet from an ongoing word document and university au that I've been using as stress relief while studying, and is just a bit of fluff with Nico and Jenson.

As I've said, this is a draft and I have taken a long break from writing so I do not make any promises that is anything decent and please don't hold back from any criticism! It is absolutely out of character for them and my only defence is that they are both very tired postgraduate students and I may be projecting as a very tired postgraduate student.

Words: 1831

It was quiet between them, the weight of feelings unsaid for six years heavy between them. Nico could barely breathe, afraid that he would ruin this once again. Jenson seemed as tentative as him, blue eyes flicking back and forth to him, for once not running his mouth at the slightest hint of a silence. They both held onto the rail in front of them, hands gripping on from fear.

Fear of what, Nico wondered. The worst had already happened for both of them. He still had nightmares of that night at the pier, and each and every time he had woken up to Jenson beside him, pulling him out of the water all over again. He had spent too long being afraid of what could happen, he had become a passive participant in his own life, letting himself get used to pain and distance. His Dad had always laughed and called him demanding as a child, an only natural occurrence when you are brought up in his wealth. When had he stopped that? When had he stopped expecting the best for himself and started accepting the worst? Where had that stubborn, blond haired boy been when Alex had hit him the first time, where had been the certainty that he was loved enough for it to matter? When did he start to believe that he was no longer worth the care and love he had taken for granted as a child? Why did he believe that he was so incapable of being treated with devotion that he had stopped loving himself?

He couldn’t answer that, nor could he go back.

He could only forgive the twenty-year-old he had been, the young man heartbroken enough at losing one of his best friends from his own stupidity that he had forgotten he was deserving of every devotion and more. The boy so lost and confused that he had run head first into the pain and hurt Alex had disguised as affection. The terrified student lost in the waves until his best friends had been there to drag him back to land.

He could forgive himself. And he knew the best way.

Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand over Jenson’s.

The light from inside the apartment fell perfectly onto their joint hands, illuminating them against the darkness. Jenson shuddered and turned his hand over, taking Nico’s back and bringing it to his mouth. The touch of his lips to the freckles on his knuckles felt holy.

Nico wanted him so badly it hurt. It ached within him, a six-year-old wound being soothed by the gentle kiss of a man who had seen him at his worst and stayed.

Jenson kept a hold of his hand, keeping his eyes locked with Nico’s, his blue mirroring the love he was sure was present in his. They were searching for something Nico didn’t have words for. What else could he do but nod.

Jenson reached down, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close as Nico’s found their way around his neck, one hand cupping his face.

“Is this okay?” Jenson whispered, close enough now that Nico could trace his freckles under his stubble. He nodded, a smile breaking on his face as easy as a wave on the shore.

“It’s okay.”

Like a prayer, their lips met. Nico gasped at the feeling of the other’s against his own, his hand falling and flying into Jenson’s hair, a touch he had committed to his most shameful nights since that fateful day in second year. This time, he could have it.

He had it.

“I have you,” he realised, breathless in the gap that opened between them as their chests heaved. Jenson’s face split into a grin, one of his hands coming up to cup Nico’s face and wipe away the tears he didn’t even realise had fallen.

“You have me.”

The dam was broken, and they came back together, Nico not even bothering to hide his delighted giggle at the thought. He was light, he was sensation itself, he was his lips on Jenson’s, his ribs between his hands, his hands locked into the blond mop of the other man, his eyes burning now with tears of a love realised.

He was Jenson’s. He was free.

He didn’t know how long they had been out there until a resounding bunch of cheers came from the open window by the fire escape. He collapsed back into Jenson’s arms, laughing in their shared delight and trusting Jenson enough to catch him again. Jenson was laughing too, pressing his lips into his hair and holding him close enough to pull him into his ribcage should he so wish.

Nico would let him at this point.

Mark and Lewis were hanging out the window, hollering and seemingly uncaring of the weight of Sebastian and Fernando on top of them.

“Fucking finally!” Mark yelled, the street light catching the glee in his eyes as he hoisted a cheering Sebastian higher on his back.

“Only took you six years!” Lewis screamed, and Nico was so full of love for him, for them all, for holding onto him when he started to get lost. The thought wasn’t accompanied by guilt for once, just a bone- deep affection for the men he was lucky enough to call his friends.

“Go away!” Jenson cackled, spinning them around so he could see them all better, “I’m getting my boy here!”

Nico couldn’t stop laughing, half- heartedly hitting him on the shoulder but delighting in the sentiment. He reached up, pulling Jenson back down and kissing him again because he could, because he could now, and barley noticed the ensuing hollers from the window. Jenson reciprocated as eagerly, pushing deeper and deeper with his mouth as if he wanted nothing more than to lay claim to Nico, lay claim to every inch of his mouth and his whole body.  He didn’t even hear the others going back inside, only registering the quiet broken only by their shuddering gasps and the muffled sound of music from indoors. He held onto Jenson, burrowing into that wide chest and letting his arms pull him even closer.

“Just in case it wasn’t clear,” Jenson murmured, dropping his nose into his hair and speaking the words into the top of his head, “I love you.”

Nico could only let out a shuddering breath, clinging even tighter to Jenson. The ache in his soul disappeared, soothed by the very words he had longed for.

“I love you too,” he whispered, kissing the patch of skin where Jenson had left a shirt button unopened and enjoying the shudder that ran through the older man. “I’ve loved you for six years.”

Jenson huffed out a laugh at that, pulling Nico back and cupping his face with nothing but tenderness and care.

“I can’t believe you waited,” he choked, tears beginning to pool in his own eyes. It was Nico’s turn to wipe them away.

“You were worth it,” Nico could only get out, his own tears spilling over again. Jenson smiled at him again, thumbs brushing gently across his cheekbones. He choked a bit, gathering himself in a way Nico had only seen before he did presentations or spoke to students.

“I doubt that, but Nico I-”

“No don’t do that-”

“No, let me speak, let me be brave Nico, please, you’ve been so brave already darling.”

Nico couldn’t hide his grin at the pet name, but nodded for him to continue.

“Nico, I have been an idiot. I liked you from the minute you walked into the kitchen with your, I don’t know, your Chanel luggage in first year. I was so scared, not just because you were a boy but because you were, well, you. You were so put together Nico, it was terrifying. I wanted you in a way I didn’t know how to say, but I was an idiot. I was so scared of you not wanting me back and of you seeing me for the mess I am, it was easier to shove it down. It was easy to keep dating and sleeping with girls, and I kept trying to find you in them. And then you kissed me that night, and it felt so right, that for a minute I nearly let myself have it. Then I woke up, and I felt awful for taking advantage of you when you were drunk, and it was the easy option to call Jessica.”

He paused, gulping for air. Nico reached up and kissed his cheek, gently tracing the line of stubble and waited for him to continue. He knew this next bit enough to know it would hurt.

“And then you met Alex, and we stopped talking, and it felt like the worst year of my life. I was so worried for you, we all were, and I was so jealous of him I couldn’t see how much you were hurting until it was nearly too late. God, Nico, I’ll never forget that night, you know? I thought you were dead for a minute when Mark brought you up and it was the most terrifying minute I’ve ever gone through. And I was so proud of you when you broke it off and when you went to therapy, you have no idea how proud I was. I just accepted then, that I was in love with you, but I promised to wait until you were ready.”

Tears were cascading down Nico’s face now. Jenson was staring down softly at him now, matching tear tracks on his own face.

“I love you, Nico,” he whispered, bringing him back in again.

“I love you too, Jenson,” he breathed, letting him. When they kissed this time, it didn’t feel like a triumph,

It felt like coming home.

They parted again, Nico shivering at the slick sound of their lips parting. Jenson seemed to feel it too, swallowing and gripping even tighter if that was possible. He could only blame that for the idiotic sentence that came from him.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Jenson let out one of his signature barking laughs, kissing the pout on Nico’s face that followed the outburst.

“I think that’s a given, darling.”

“Jenson-”

Another quick kiss shut him up and left him boneless.

“Of course I’ll be your boyfriend.”

The pout tipped upwards into another grin.

“I have to wine and dine you properly now, don’t I?”

“I expect nothing but the best.”

“And you deserve it Nico. You deserve the best.”

“You’re the best.”

A fond smile. Another kiss. Nico’s thoughts had shattered into fragments by now.

“And you’re my best. My love.”

He didn’t know what to say in the face of such devotion given wholeheartedly to him. All he could do was steal another kiss from Jenson’s red, bitten lips. Jenson was only too happy to let him, dipping him back and kissing through the grins on both their faces.

“My Nico.”

[h-a-r-t-k-e]

Alright this is random but I want yalls thoughts out there

Also TW: if your uncomfortable with paranormal or anything relating to death do not read this one and read some of my other things.

But the picture above is not a random guy, I've been living in a house for around 6 years now, and that guy is said to be buried in our basement. Weird huh?

But I didn't think much of it until today when I was talking with a friend, and I realized 'oh this may not be as coincidental as I thought' because as some of you may know. I was suicidal in the past. And "ghosts" can normally get ahold of people with a low mental state than other people.

But ive seen people looking at me through doorways, I've been touched a couple times, I've heard voices.

But the creepiest thing is that this case goes unsolved TO THIS DAY. And I don't know about you but some spirit randomally reaching out to some teenager while their entire family can't hear or see a thing is a bit weird

Especially since over the years ive been waken up by literal knife sharpening noises. And the mob that was said to of murdered him, said he was killed by acid. But I wouldn't believe the people who killed him would you?

Plus if that was the case how is there a body? And why would the spirit be reaching out to people, wouldn't it just move onto the afterlife no issues?

Why is it bothering somebody? Because my guess is those people were lying theres gotta be a reason I have frequent nightmares to a point where I have a phobia of sleep, I've woken up to knife noises, ive seen people peek around doorways at me.

My guess is, he was stabbed. And is mad that his case and death were overlooked I mean this is barely a thing online as far as I know. And the case still being unsolved has gotta mean something.

But let me know your guys' opinion and I know some yall out there don't believe in the paranormal and are gonna call me crazy but whatever. At least I'm sharing my opinion and to those who are curious let me know your thoughts

[littlemochix17]

Epilouge

Words: 15K

Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. As Hermione dragged (Y/n) from their dorm. In a matter of seconds, though, Ron was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him, (Y/n), and Hermione what had happened in the forest.

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.

"Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich...."

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious.... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen...They must show that Voldemort's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me... I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"Harry calm down a bit and let's think about what we're going to go about Vol- You-Know-Who" (Y/n) tried to reason with the boy to prevent Ron from screaming but her words fell on deaf ears.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone,"

Harry went on feverishly, "Then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over.

When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his Invisibility Cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:

Just in case.

In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but (Y/n), Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying that they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds.

"It was alright I guess" (Y/n) shrugged as Hermione continued

"I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterwards, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass.

"You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily.

This made his friends worried and (Y/n) caressed his shoulder gently

"Are you alright? Harry" the boy shook his head

"My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Harry.

"I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming...."

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important.

When he tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy . . . never . . . but -

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white.

"We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope,

"The only thing I think is a bit odd right now is your mood swings" (Y/n) said which made Harry glare at her and she made a zipping motion as if she zipped her mouth shut so he continued

"That what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" said Ron, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, but Harry cut him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

He saw the three of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's one o' the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember.

"Yeah . . . he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. . . . He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after . . .so I told him . . . an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon . . . an' then . . . I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. . . . Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted . . . but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home. . . . So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy. . . ."

"And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep -"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out.

"Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Harry.

"Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They looked around as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to -" Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely, Harry, Ron and (Y/n) thought.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do.

"Why?"

Harry swallowed - now what?

"It's sort of secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly.

"He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" said Harry frantically.

"Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," said Harry, throwing caution to the winds,

"Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's Stone -"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know - ?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally.

"I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor -"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books.

"I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot.

"Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we -"

Hermione gasped while (Y/n) swallowed nervously. Harry and Ron wheeled around.

Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were -" Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say and (Y/n) picked on trying not to make them look suspicious.

"Trust me, Professor," she said, addressing Snape,

"Even on a day like this, some people prefer not going outside. Plus, I will miss the school's library over the summer, so I am trying to read more books while I can." The sudden interruption surprised the other three, as the girl was usually quite reserved and avoided attracting attention from teachers.

Severus Snape, the professor in question, regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "And I think you know how me and my friends always stick together," she continued, meeting his gaze.

"I do know that a group of four friends rooming around brings nothing but trouble," Snape said coolly, causing the four kids to feel a bit nervous.

"You want to be more careful," he continued.

"Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?" The girl gave him a forced smile, trying to hide her annoyance.

"Of course not," she said, glancing at her friends.

"We were just leaving."

Harry flushed and he could tell (Y/n) was as well so he tugged her with him. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

"Be warned, Potter - any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom. Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently.

"One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape - wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that."

"Why me?"

"It's obvious," said Ron.

"You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice,

" 'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong. . . .' "

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.

"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Ron and (Y/n).

"Come on."

But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" She stormed.

"Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own House!"

Harry, (Y/n), and Ron went back to the common room. Harry had just said,

"At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed.

"Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.

The other three stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're going!?" Said (Y/n)

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione.

"After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted.

"Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you three say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?" He glared at them.

"You're right, Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"I'll use the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"But will it cover all four of us?" said Ron.

"All - all four of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"He's right you would an idiot to think we would just stand there and watch you throw yourself to the Dark Lord just like that" (Y/n) said

"How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful. . . ." said Hermione

"But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly.

"Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

Harry looked at Ron

Ron cracked a joke and said,

"Do you really think I did let you get expelled and leave me with Hermione alone? I did die suffocated with the library books before I reach my fourth year." Hermione glared at him for his comment, and (Y/n), who was standing beside Hermione, raised an eyebrow and said,

"Am I that invisible to you?"

"Shh, don't ruin the moment." Hermione rolled her eyes with an amused smile while Harry couldn't help but laugh a little and looked at the (H/c) haired girl, who then looked back at him.

"What? You think I did care about being expelled?" (Y/n) said, raising her eyebrows and walking closer to him.

"Harry, we entered this magical world together, and no matter how beautiful it is, if you leave it, I will too," she said seriously, which made Harry's heart swell with happiness as he felt grateful that she wanted to stay by his side.

After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn't been upset by it.

Hermione was skimming through all her notes and (Y/n) decided to help her, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Harry and Ron didn't talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory.

He pulled out the cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy - he didn't feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own -"

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room.

Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," he said.

"No, no, no," said Hermione.

"No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"

Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out," said Neville,

"you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important."

"Neville we have to do this" (Y/n) said trying to convince the boy.

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot -"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville.

"I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation.

"Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists.

"I'm ready!"

Harry turned to Hermione.

"Do something," he said desperately.

Hermione stepped forward.

"Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."

She raised her wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville. Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

"Hermione!" (Y/n) said running over the boy.

Hermione followed her turning him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.

"It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably.

"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry.

(Y/n) sighed and stood up "Sorry Neville I promise we will tell you everything once all this is over"

"You'll understand later," said Ron as they stepped over him and pulled on the Invisibility Cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, and every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them.

At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered,

"Ron not right now!" (Y/n) Whisper yelled at him. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs Norris turned her lamp-like eyes on them but didn't do anything.

They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Harry had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he said greasily.

"My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't, you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again.

"Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."

And he scooted off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispered Ron.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door was already a jar.

"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to the other three.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said.

"You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Ron.

"And leave you here? No thanks" said (Y/n)

"We're coming," said Hermione.

Harry pushed the door open.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Snape must have left it there."

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Harry.

"Well, here goes . . ."

He put Hagrid's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note, the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!"

"All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Ron. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."

Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds of silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

As he was walking to Ron, (Y/n) took hold of his hand "Wait I am coming with you" which made Harry nod.

Harry climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom. He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and (Y/n) and said,

"If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"

"Right," said Ron

"See you in a minute, I hope. . . ."

And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and -

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump, he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.

"It's okay!" he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor,

"It's a soft landing, you can jump!"

"I am going" (Y/n) said jumping inside and landing in front of the boy.

Ron followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to Harry.

"What's this stuff?" were his first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!"

"I don't think that's why it's here Ron," said (Y/n) feeling something warp around her leg

The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry's other side.

"We must be miles under the school," she said.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ron.

"Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. "Look at you three!"

She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry, (Y/n), and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the others fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them.

"I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.

"Never thought we would give at the hands of a plant" (Y/n) said freaking out when the plant started going up her arm.

"You're not helping!" Ron shouted

"Shut up both of you, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione.

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare . . . what did Professor Sprout say? - it likes the dark and the damp -"

"So light a fire!" Harry choked.

"Yes - of course - but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

"Are you serious?" (Y/n) asked

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the other three felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," said Harry as he joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off his face.

"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis- 'There's no wood,' honestly." That made (Y/n) chuckle

"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Harry was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough . . .

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.

Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know . . . sounds like wings to me."

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around

the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.

"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once . . . well, there's no other choice . . . I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked. The other three followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora Charm.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"These birds . . . they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.

They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering - glittering?

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly.

"They're keys! Winged keys - look carefully. So that must mean . . ." he looked around the chamber while the other three squinted up at the flock of keys.

". . . yes - look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!"

Ron examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle."

"Maybe the oldest one of the bunch"

They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.

Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others.

"That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.

"Be careful!" (Y/n) warned him holding onto her own broomstick as hard as she could to prevent falling from her broom as much as possible

"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing.

"Ron, you come at it from above - Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down - (Y/n), fly behind it in case it tries to turn around - and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, while (Y/n) got behind it, and the key dodged all of them, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, and Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n)'s cheers echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned - it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Harry asked the other three, his hand on the door handle.

They nodded. He pulled the door open. The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, the light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces, they could see another door.

"How?" said Hermione nervously.

"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

"Can't we just play instead of replacing the chess pieces?" Asked (Y/n)

"Wait let me ask"

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?"

The black knight nodded.

Ron turned to the others.

"This needs thinking about. . . ." he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces. . . ."

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally

he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop and Hermione, you go there instead of that castle and (Y/n) you'll be the queen so you can help if needed."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, a castle, and the queen turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes... look"

A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry's knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Harry - move diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry and Hermione were in danger and (Y/n) wasn't really in grave danger but if he moved one wrong piece one of his friends would most likely be taken. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think -let me think..."

During the game of chess, Y/n was intently observing the board when she noticed that her friend Ron was in a position to checkmate their opponent. However, she also realized that the only move she could make was to sacrifice her queen, which would divert the attention of the opponent's queen towards her. Despite the risk involved, Y/n saw that this move could give Ron a better chance to win the game. With this strategy in mind, Y/n quietly said to Ron not wanting Harry and Hermione to hear her,

"I can take the last Knight so you can checkmate."

As Ron pondered the situation at hand, he realized that there was another way out. However, he knew that his friends wouldn't agree with his plan. But he couldn't stand the thought of (Y/n) being crushed by the menacing white queen. So, he made the decision to safeguard their black queen, no matter what the cost.

"No" said Ron softly, "There's another way... I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Harry, Hermione and (Y/n) shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I make my move and she'll take me - that leaves one of you free to checkmate the king,"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron -"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron was hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor - Hermione screamed but stayed on her square while (Y/n) looked the other way flinching when she heard the sound of him crashing - the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet.

They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's - ?"

"He'll be all right," said Harry, trying to convince himself more than the two girls.

"What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's . . ."

(Y/n) let out a deep breath, feeling exhausted.

"All right three down and two more to go"

They had reached another door.

"All right?" Harry whispered.

"Go on."

Harry pushed it open.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making the three of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs.

"Come on, I can't breathe."

He pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

"Great to know we will be cooked alive," (Y/n) said sarcastically, trying to make light of the situation. Harry gave her a deadpan look as if asking how she had the nerve to joke at a time like this. The temperature was soaring, and the air was thick with humidity, making it difficult to breathe. It seemed like there was no escape from the oppressive heat, and (Y/n)'s comment was a reflection of the hopeless feeling that everyone was experiencing.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles.

Harry looked over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind you,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however, slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"Well that's comforting"

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," said Hermione.

"Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them.

At last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - toward the Stone."

Harry looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."

They looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"Both of you drink that," said Harry as (Y/n) was about to protest.

"No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy - go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really."

"But Harry - what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

(Y/n) stayed silent looking at the small bottle while Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

"Hermione!"

"Harry - you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

"Me!" said Hermione.

"Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful !"

"You drink first," said Harry. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Positive," said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered.

"It's not poison?" said Harry anxiously.

"No - but it's like ice." She said giving the rest of the potion to the other girl.

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

"Good luck - take care -"

"GO!"

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Harry drew in a deep breath and turned to the other girl in the room, who had been uncharacteristically silent.

"You've been quiet," he observed, prompting her to meet his gaze.

She looked visibly concerned, her forehead creased in a frown as she contemplated the potential dangers that lay beyond the fire door.

Harry sensed her unease, understanding the unspoken desire in her eyes that begged to accompany him, even though he knew that the two of them would stand no chance against You-Know-Who. So he held her close, his arms enveloping her small frame, hoping to offer some solace and reassurance.

"You always worry about me," he whispered, feeling her embrace tighten around his shoulders. She let out a soft chuckle, her laughter echoing soothingly in his ears.

Unbeknownst to him, she muttered something under her breath and discreetly pointed her wand at the small vial he was about to drink from.

"How could I not worry?" she replied, her tone tinged with worry and affection.

"All you do is get yourself into trouble, everywhere you go. Seriously, you're going to get yourself killed one day." Harry chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, before rummaging in his robes for something. Finally, he pulled out a bright orange azalea, the very same one she had gifted him at his last Quidditch game.

He handed it to her and said,

"Here, take this."

The girl was hesitant and started to say something, but he interrupted her,

"I will come back for it. For now, it will be safer with you." He took hold of her hand and placed a small flower in her palm before closing her hand around it. She nodded and smiled at the boy. He turned to walk towards the potions and picked up the smallest bottle.

As he looked back at (Y/n) one last time, he took a deep breath and turned to face the black flames.

"Here I come," he said, and he drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, and saw the black flames licking his body, but couldn't feel them - for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire - then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there - but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.

it was Quirrell.

"You!" gasped Harry.

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?"

Harry 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. 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?"

"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."

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

"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."

"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, but that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly"

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

It was only then that Harry 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 Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

"I saw you and Snape in the forest -" he 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?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He 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."

"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?" Harry gasped.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly.

"I met him when I travelled 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. . . ."

Quirrell's voice trailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley - how could he have been so stupid? He'd seen Quirrell there that very day, shaking 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?"

Harry's mind was racing.

'What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he 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?'

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without

Quirrell noticed, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight:

he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

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

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

"Use the boy . . . Use the boy . . ."

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes - Potter - come here."

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

"Come here," Quirrell repeated.

"Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked toward him.

I must lie, he thought desperately.

I must look and lie about what I see, that's all.

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again. He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. 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, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow - incredibly - he'd gotten the Stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry screwed up his courage.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he invented.

"I - I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell cursed again.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Harry moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it? But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies . . . He 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 him . . . face-to-face. . . ."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough . . . for this. . . ."

Harry felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, he 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. Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter . . ." it whispered.

Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapour. . . I have form only when I can share another's body . . . but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. . . . Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks . . . you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest. . . and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own. . . . Now . . . why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He stumbled backwards.

"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. . . ."

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backwards at him so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching . . ." it hissed. "I always value bravery. . . . Yes, boy, your parents were brave. . . . I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight . . . but your mother needn't have died . . . she was trying to protect you. . . . Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

Harry shouted when he heard a sudden voice from behind him.

"Filipindo!"

He turned around and saw a girl with (H/c) hair, holding a wand and pointing it at Quirrell, who appeared to be stunned.

"(Y/n)! But how-"

"No time to explain, let's get out of here!" She interrupted, taking Harry's hand and running towards the fire door.

But Voldemort's voice echoed in the chamber,

"FOOLISH GIRL! SEIZE THEM!" and in the next instant, Harry felt Quirrell's hand grasp his wrist, the one that (Y/n) wasn't holding. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his scar, as if his head was about to split in two. He screamed and struggled with all his might, but surprisingly, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head subsided, and he looked around to see where Quirrell had gone. He saw him hunched in pain, staring at his fingers, which were blistering before his eyes.

Voldemort's piercing command echoed through the chamber,

"Seize them! SEIZE THEM!"

In response, Quirrell launched himself towards Harry, causing him to quickly shove the girl aside. As Quirrell tackled Harry, he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, with (Y/n) anxiously holding onto her wand, trying not to accidentally hit Harry. Her hands shook, as she struggled to aim at Quirrell, who was gripping Harry's neck, leaving Harry writhing in pain. Despite the agony in his scar, Harry could see Quirrell screaming in pain as if something was causing him intense discomfort.

"Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!" And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms - Harry could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face-

"ARGH!"

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

(Y/n) watched in shock as Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off - the pain in Harry's head was building - he couldn't see - he could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe in Harry's own head, crying,

"Harry! Harry!"

He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down . . . down . . . down . . . Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses.

How strange.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry stared at him. Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick -"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore.

"Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I -"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"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. 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."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Your friends will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried especially Miss (L/n)."

"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 -"

"It was you."

"I feared I might be too late I came just as Miss (L/n) was about to pull him and helped her get you here."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer -"

"Not the Stone, boy, 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."

"Destroyed?" said Harry 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 Harry'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."

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

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking . . . Sir - even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who -"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. 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, Harry, 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. Nevertheless, Harry, 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."

Harry nodded but stopped quickly because it made his head hurt. Then he 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, Harry. When you are older . . . I know you hate to hear this . . . when you are ready, you will know."

And Harry 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."

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Harry 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."

"And there's something else . . ."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape -"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"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."

"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. . . ."

Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he 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. My brain surprises even me sometimes. . . . Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie 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?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth.

Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

"Just five minutes," Harry 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."

And she let (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione in.

"Harry!"

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

As for (Y/n) she sat beside him looking for any injuries on the boy's body and when she found none she sighed in relief and held his hand.

"You all right?" She asked which made him nod.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to - Dumbledore was so worried -"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron.

"What really happened?"

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. As (Y/n) just stayed silent having heard and seen some of what happened Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud.

"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 Harry.

"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, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

He then turned to the girl who was holding his hand.

"How did you get past the fire?" He asked which made Hermione berk she have been wanting to ask the same thing.

The girl just smiled and shrugged her shoulder

"Refilling Charm although it took a while to refill it worked in time and I am glad it did on time" She explained making Hermione gasp

"Genius! How didn't I think of that!"

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "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 Harry 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"

"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."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After a good night's sleep, Harry felt nearly back to normal.

"I want to go to the feast," he told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes. "I can, can't I?"

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said sniffily, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have two visitors."

"Oh, good," said Harry. "Who is it?"

Hagrid sidled through the door with (Y/n) behind him as he spoke. As usual, when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him, 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!"

(Y/n) leaned in and whispered into Harry's ear, her voice barely audible above the noise around them. "I tried to calm him down," she said, her tone laced with frustration and disappointment.

"I did my best, but it was no use. He was too angry and upset at himself."

"Hagrid!" said Harry, 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!"

"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked that he stopped crying when (Y/n) started murmuring quietly about having a headache in the morning.

"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 Harry 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. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his 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?

Harry couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.

(Y/n) smiled at her friend's face.

"Hagrid was collecting them for a while now and he told me before Christmas which gave me the camera idea thought you would want to add some of your own memories here"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry and (Y/n) made their way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night.

Harry had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last checkup while (Y/n) waited outside for him when he finished, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colours 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 Harry and (Y/n) walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat beside Ron and (Y/n) sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table and he tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.

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, has four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry 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."

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's 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!"

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; Harry strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up.

"Third - to Miss (L/n) for the great use of Spells to protect and help her friends, I award Gryffindor House fifty points"

(Y/n) smiled as people from the table cheered again clapping loudly.

"Fourth - to Mr Harry Potter," said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet.

"for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had five hundred and twenty-two points - exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the House Cup - if only Dumbledore had given Harry 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."

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. Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. Harry, 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.

"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. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape's feelings toward him hadn't changed one jot. This didn't worry Harry. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts. It was the best evening of Harry's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls . . . he would never, ever forget tonight.

Harry had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but they did. To their great surprise, both he and Ron passed with good marks; Hermione, of course, had the best grades of the first years and (Y/n) came after her because of her average score in history. 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); Hagrid was with Eleanor who was going to stay at the castle for sometime before going home. Both of them were 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 Bertie 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,

"All of you - I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry, "I'll need something to look forward to."

"I will make sure to come after all I promised Ginny I would" (Y/n) said

People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them are called:

"Bye, Harry!"

"See you, Potter!"

"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at him.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Harry.

He, Ron, (Y/n), 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.

"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see -"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Ginny pouted but soon her pout turned upside down when she saw (Y/n) and the girl greeted her happily.

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Ready, are you?"

Harry was greeted by the sight of his Uncle Vernon, who was still sporting his signature purple face and bushy moustache. Harry could tell that his uncle was absolutely livid at the audacity of him carrying a caged owl through the crowded station. As he looked past Vernon, Harry noticed that Aunt Petunia and Dudley were also present. They appeared to be absolutely terrified by the sight of (Y/n), who was walking alongside Harry and had her own pet owl perched on her arm.

"You must be Harry's family!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

After bidding farewell to his friends, Harry lingered behind to exchange some final words. Meanwhile, (Y/n) received some money to hire a cab and head back home. Apparently, her grandma had refused to pick her up, and she was convinced that the Druselys would not want her around anymore.

"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 Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face.

The mischievous glint in his eye made it clear that he had some plans in mind for the summer, particularly involving his cousin Dudley.

"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"

Harry knew that they were not allowed to use magic at home, but that didn't stop him from planning to have some fun during the summer. (Y/n) smirked and added,

 "Hey, don't have too much fun without me!" Harry nodded in agreement, bidding a small 'see you later' before leaving.

Mrs Weasley turned to the young girl standing next to her and asked, 

"Isn't there anyone here to pick you up, dear?" The girl shook her head, causing a frown to appear on Mrs Weasley's face. 

"It's alright," said the girl, trying to reassure the older woman. "I have money to go home by myself."

Ginny, who had been listening to their conversation, tugged on the girl's sleeve excitedly.

 "Oh! Oh! Can you come back home with us right now?" she asked, turning to her mother. 

"Can she, Mum?"

Mrs Weasley smiled at her daughter before turning to the girl.

 "Of course, dear, but you have to agree first."

The girl hesitated for a moment before replying. 

"I don't mind, but sadly, my grandmother is expecting me to come home soon. However, I can come back two weeks before the next school year starts. How about that?"

Ginny looked a bit disappointed but still nodded in agreement.

As (Y/n) watched Ron bid farewell to Hermione, she overheard him saying something that caught her attention. 

"You know you can just ditch her right?" he whispered to her. 

She turned her gaze towards him, surprised at his sudden remark. 

"Oh trust me I would love to but that would just earn me an earful later on," she replied with a wry smile, knowing exactly what Ron meant. Just then, two boys approached them, and the two greeted them.

"(Y/n)! Ron!" 

(Y/n) watched as Cedric and Regulus approached them, greeting Mrs Weasley before turning to the group. Ginny's hand gripped her arm tightly, and when she looked at her, she saw that Ginny was staring at Regulus, who hadn't noticed her yet. 

"Pretty..." Ginny whispered, burying her face in (Y/n)'s arm.

Cedric gave them his usual smile and said, 

"Hey, we wanted to say goodbye to you guys, but it seems like we were a bit late."

"It's alright," (Y/n) replied, smiling warmly.

 "Just make sure to owl me. I would love to see you guys during the summer."

Ron joined the group, and they all chatted for a bit before Regulus noticed Ginny, who was still holding (Y/n)'s arm. 

"Oh hello there" Ginny blushed furiously as he talked to her with his gorgeous eyes, which she thought looked as bright as the stars. 

"Hi-i," she managed to stutter out.

(Y/n) decided to help the little girl not to embarrass herself.

"Oh, Regulus, this is Ginny. Ron's little sister," she said, introducing them.

After bidding everyone goodbye, Cedric and Regulus left to join their families, and (Y/n) decided to go home after saying her goodbyes to the Weasleys. She looked for a cab to take her home and leaned her head against the window, her eyes drifting to sleep. As she drifted off, she thought to herself, 

"What a year..."

[canidkid]

sorry you're not having a very nice time, friend:( but! i'm here to send some more superstore stuff if that's alright! :)

Kelly;

seems to be a big fan of lifetime/hallmark movies, so i just imagine her setting up a movie night! making popcorn and bringing out the warmest blankets to make sure you stay cozy while watching the movie.

she also just seems like the type to go all out for any holiday! like having a small easter egg hunt at easter, or dressing you up in cute matching costumes at halloween! she'd definitely be the type to get personalized stockings with your name on them for christmas, and do adorable little christmas crafts.

Jonah;

small hc that after the golden globes party, jonah was just so excited to show kelly all of the old commercials she hadn't seen so he could rant about them and so that she would 'be in the know'.

also just the quote, "i never yell. even when i'm mad. i just push it down really deep, and then sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night panicked and sweaty for no reason. " it just seems like something that would cause him to regress. i like to think it was something that happened while he was still with kelly (since he said it after they had broken up), and she helped calm him down afterwards. just like she'd do after a nightmare.

*weep* thank u for this TwT

I've been missing superstore stuff hehuhehe

This somehow spawned a whole little fic,, so,,, for everyone's reading pleasure

I'd say it's more agere adjacent than anything explicitly mentioned, but I really really love the idea of Kelly jumping to calm Jonah down like "No questions asked, you're getting a kissy on the head. Ok, goodnight."

cw: brief description of anxiety

Kelly turned over in bed, throwing her arm over her face. What time was it?! And why was she awake again?? She tried to glance at her alarm clock, only to realize it wasn't there. Moreover, she wasn't in her own bed, or her own home for that matter. She'd been spending the night with Jonah more often than not recently. She almost let herself drift back to sleep when she remembered why she'd been woken up in the first place.

She propped herself up to look at her partner through sleepy eyes.

Kelly startled slightly when she saw the state he was in. Sitting upright against the headboard, staring at the opposite wall, hardly breathing. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. His blankets had been kicked far from where they should be, and Kelly could see him trembling even in the dark.

“Jonah..?” Kelly whispered, not wanting to scare her boyfriend. “Did you have a nightmare, what's wrong?” Jonah physically flinched when she spoke up, which sent a pang of something unpleasant straight to Kelly's stomach.

“I'm-good. No nightmare. I'm fine, I'm good I'm-” Jonah's hasty response caught in his throat and he brought his hands up to hide his face. He fell silent again, and all Kelly could hear was his ragged breathing. She tentatively placed a hand on his back, like her own mother had done when she'd had a bad dream as a kid. She felt her boyfriend sob silently in response.

“Whatever it was, um, you're safe here? Yeah?” The sleepy fog in Kelly's brain was steadily lifting as she tried to understand the situation. She moved her hand in slow circles against Jonah’s back in an attempt to comfort him. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and turned to look at her, still teary. “S’ too much, sometimes,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and small, “..everything.”

Kelly nodded. She understood. “Oh, I know,” she cooed, “you've been dealing with so much lately. Work's been crazy and with trying to find a place to live and-”, she stopped in her tracks. “C’mere.”

Jonah readily let himself be pulled into her arms, immediately tucking his face against her neck. Kelly noticed how tense he felt, and instinctively began to rock slightly from side to side. One of her hands found purchase in his hair, her baby blue manicured nails drawing soothing circles across his scalp. She pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “You don't have to think about any of that now.” She whispered.

They stayed like that for a while as Jonah's racing heartbeat slowed down, his muscles relaxed bit by bit - certainly aided by Kelly's expert comfort. Until, eventually, he just felt like a pile of sleepy goop in her embrace, instead of an anxious mess.

“Thanks”, he mumbled against her, feeling his cheeks heat up with the embarrassment of the whole situation. He felt so stupid and immature, like he should have rejected the comfort she offered and just…dealt with it. Like he always did.

Jonah shifted to sit beside Kelly, vehemently avoiding eye contact. “You should go back to sleep now. Sorry- sorry I woke you up.”

Kelly wasn't having that. She turned Jonah's face up with a gentle touch of her hand to make sure he was listening. “You don't have to go through everything by yourself, Pumpkin.” Kelly mentally kicked herself for letting the sillu pet name slip, but Jonah didn't seem to mind. He only responded with a tight-lipped nod, not wanting to cry again. She was just so sweet. Kelly gave a small smile before settling back down into her pillow. She held the corner of her blanket up, and Jonah accepted the invitation, crawling underneath and letting Kelly pull him close again.

…maybe it wasn't so bad to be fussed over.

[star-going-supernova]

Prompt on Annie comforting Gregory after he had a nightmare, Ness is not present cause she is busy surviving the night at the plex, so Annie helps Gregory by letting him cuddle with her

These all involved siblings AU and Gregory having a nightmare, so I've lumped them together! Vanessa's not actually in this one, tho. But best roommate Annie strikes again!! This ficlet takes place only a few weeks after Gregory was dumped on Vanessa’s doorstep. Enjoy!

Unfamiliarity

It was Friday night, so Annie was staying up later than normal to finish the last few episodes of a new show some friends had recommended. It was good, good enough to forsake her sleep schedule.

She was just setting aside her laptop to take a quick bathroom break when Gregory flinched hard and jerked awake with a strangled gasp. He was breathing loudly, and when his scrambling at the sheets took him too close to the edge of his top bunk, Annie quickly flicked on the fairy lights that crisscrossed over her own bed. 

There was pure confusion in his eyes when he twisted to look over at Annie. For a moment, it was like he wasn’t even seeing her. 

“You all right?” she asked quietly. 

He looked around the room, and Annie could see the moment he remembered where he was. She’d woken up like that before, and the panic of unfamiliar surroundings mixed with the disorientation of waking suddenly was never fun. 

Gregory nodded at her and pushed himself into sitting up all the way. He was shaking a little, though not crying. Annie didn’t ask what he’d been dreaming about, just slid off her bed and grabbed him a bottle of water. He took it with a whispered thanks. 

She went to the bathroom as planned to give him a moment to himself, and he looked way better when she poked her head back in. He smiled shakily at her. 

Gregory had only been living in the dorm with her and Vanessa for a few weeks, and he was still pretty twitchy and generally suspicious of new things. She didn’t know him too well yet, but even Annie, with all her unfamiliarity with him, could tell he didn’t want to go back to sleep just yet. Maybe it’d be different if Vanessa was here, but it was past midnight. She was busy at her night job. 

“Hey,” Annie said, rifling through her snack shelf. “Wanna watch a movie?” She pulled out a pack of microwavable popcorn. 

“What movie?” he asked, and for as jaded of a child Gregory had so far seemed, he sounded very young now. 

“Hmm… ever seen The Secret of Kells? It’s one my favorites.” 

He shook his head, hesitating with his hands on his covers. “You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.” 

“It’s no bother,” Annie assured him. She shoved on her slippers and wrapped the lanyard with her dorm key and ID card around her wrist. “It’s been a while since I last watched it, anyway. I’ll be right back, okay?” She waved the popcorn at him. 

He nodded, and when Annie slipped back into the room a few minutes later, he was sitting a little tensely on her bed, wrapped in one of Vanessa’s blankets. She dumped some M&Ms into the bag, winking conspiratorially at him, then joined him. 

“I’ve never had chocolate in my popcorn before,” Gregory said, peering into the bag. 

“No? It’s good, I swear. I bet you’ve never tried it on caramel corn either. Now that’s a tasty treat.” 

He side-eyed her as she clicked through Netflix to find the movie. “You put caramel on popcorn?” 

Annie paused. “You’ve never had caramel corn? Like, at a state or county fair?” 

“I’ve never been to a fair,” he said. He popped a few pieces of popcorn and two slightly melty M&Ms in his mouth. His eyes immediately lit up. He looked down at the bag in awe. 

“Told ya,” Annie said, nudging the bag closer to him. She pulled her earbuds out of the port and made sure the volume wasn’t too loud. Pulling the laptop with her, she sat back against the pillows propped against her headboard, taking care to stay relaxed and not react when Gregory inched closer. 

“Ready?” she asked, finger poised over the play button. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, mouth full. 

Before she started the movie, she deliberately flicked her eyes between him and the popcorn. “Not a word to Ness.” 

He mimed zipping his lips closed, mischief replacing the last of his tension. 

She grinned and hit play. Not ten minutes into the movie, Gregory was both enthralled and leaning against her like he had recently started to do with his sister. 

[digimonghostgame]

𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖊 💭💀

Holograms, a new technology. In the near future, paranormal phenomena frequently occur. Humans began to refer to them as...Hologram Ghosts.

𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝕿𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖗,

It's been a while, hasn't it? We haven't had a single instance of Hologram Ghost activity since that encounter with Archnemon. It felt really good to kill someone as remorseless as her. 😈 I hope I get a chance to delete another Digimon again soon...I've been keeping score actually. My kill count is 2! 💪 I'm coming for your record Michael Myers. *ahem* Where was I? Oh, that's right. Things have been radio silent ever since that day, but I was certain that we hadn't seen the last of Digimon ending up in the human world. It turns out I was right, as something truly horrifying happened to Ruli and Kiyoshiro while visiting a local park full of cherry blossom trees. Finally, some action! Unfortunately, Hiro and I weren't there to see said action unfold. We went to a phone repair store for an "exciting" day of smartphone surgery, which left us blissfully unaware of their dire situation. The store was also close to the phone shop I stole my phone from a few weeks ago, so the risk of me getting recognized, even as Gammamon, was there. Curse my luck. 😒

What's even worse is we were only there because a certain Child level evolution of mine couldn't control himself. I just haaaad to make Hiro's phone my personal chew toy, didn't I? My biting habits as Gammamon have gotten out of control. Hiro has resorted to bribing me with chocolate as a reward for not biting things, it's gotten that bad. Why am I such a sucker for chocolate? And for that matter, why do I behave the way I do as Gammamon?...I'm really glad that I inexplicably become Gulus Gammamon at night these days. It gives me some much needed reprieve from those childish antics and other nonsense. 🙄 So yeah, we missed out on all the fun today thanks to that. We only got the word that those two were in trouble once Hiro's phone was working again and he saw a mountain of texts from Kiyoshiro. Bakumon flew out of his phone unexpectedly while we skimmed through Kiyo's texts, which startled us a bit! The messages looked serious, but given how far we were from the cherry blossom park, Bakumon offered to go there in place of us by traveling through a reply sent to Kiyo's phone. There was no way Hiro or I would make it to the park in time to help those two, so we took Bakumon up on his offer.

It wasn't until we got back to Hiro's dorm room that Kiyo and Ruli filled us in on everything that happened. Ruli and Angoramon took a trip to a nearby park to look at some cherry blossom trees. Ruli saw photos of these trees on social media a year ago and wanted to see them in person. Jellymon had the bright idea of messing up the flow of wealth again by starting up a "sleep tour" buisness at the park, where customers would come to experience a relaxing deep slumber under the cherry blossom branches. I'll admit, it's not a terrible sounding idea, but what made it sketchy was the fact that Jellymon was using bubbles from a Digimon called Pillomon, which, when touching someone, would send the person to sleep instantly and into a happy dream. She even had Kiyo playing pretend as a "sleep expert", with a lab coat and everything, to help sell her service. She's lucky this plan of exploiting Digimon for profit fell apart, Majiramon could have easily gotten involved. You'd think she wouldn't have forgotten about him, given what happened after the last money making stunt she pulled.

Was she really that lucky though? She didn't notice Pillomon having a nightmare, which Kiyo explained to us. Apparently his bubbles went from clear colored to an evil looking shade of dark purple. (If only I was there to see it...*sigh* 😔 I'm quite a fan of evil colors.) As one could guess, nightmare inducing bubbles were the result. Jellymon didn't notice this until several people had woken up from these nightmares; angry, frightened and sporting injuries they received during their dreams. Unfortunately, this realization was not made before Ruli and Angoramon were put to sleep! Jellymon was hoping Ruli would rave about her new buisness on her social media page, Lirurun, in exchange for what should have been peaceful sleep. This was when Kiyo sent Hiro all those text messages, letting him know about the situation. Kiyo noticed afterwards that Ruli had a scrape on her hand, and Angoramon evolved into Symbare Angoramon! They were clearly in danger...Jellymon and Kiyo decided they'd hit themselves with one of Pillomon's bubbles in an attempt to enter Ruli and Angoramon's nightmare to rescue them. Here's where things got really interesting though...Kiyo and Jellymon landed into a giant purple ocean, and rising out from its depths was...

SKULL GREYMON!! Of all the days to miss out on the action, damn...according to Kiyo, he was humongous as well! I suppose since anything is possible in a dream, Skull Greymon took full advantage of it! He kept uttering "Rot and decay", over and over, a clear reflection of the process that led to his skeletal body. Kiyo and Jellymon fled the area, with Ruli and Symbare Angoramon doing the same from where they were located in this nightmare. Kiyo noticed Symbare Angoramon in the distance running from another Skull Greymon (!!) and the four of them all ran to meet up with each other. All of a sudden, in a burst of white light, they found themselves back at a cherry blossom tree on a floating island. Symbare Angoramon explained this was the beginning of some sort of loop they were stuck in. If they got too far away from Skull Greymon, they would end up teleporting back here in an endless cycle. Not only that, but Kiyo informed Ruli and Symbare Angoramon that this was a dream, and that their injuries carried over into the real world! Thus, by extension, if they died in the dream, they'd die in real life too!! Right on cue, Skull Greymon rose up behind them after this discussion, and the four of them fled once more, together.

Symbare Angoramon put two and two together while everyone was fleeing, and figured out the nightmare they were in was Pillomon's. If they could somehow wake Pillomon up, they would escape this nightmare. Jellymon thought defeating Skull Greymon would do the trick, and the team readied themselves for the challenge. Jellymon evolved into Tesla Jellymon, and along with Symbare Angoramon, a combination of Breakin' Stream and Punischöne was thrown at Skull Greymon! Unfortunately, the attack was so ineffective that it made Skull Greymon even bigger than he already was, this time towering to the heavens!! Kiyo scurried away with a full sprint, leading the others to run after him so he wouldn't be teleported somewhere where he'd be by himself, which led to everyone being sent into a loop that threw them into the ocean...Kiyo sunk to the bottom while everyone else swam up, as Skull Greymon returned once more, right in front of Kiyo!! He wasn't afraid this time though, as he had made a stunning realization that would give him the strength he needed to overcome Skull Greymon...everyone in this nightmare was in a dream, and they were fully aware that they were in a dream...this could only mean one thing...

It was a lucid dream!! Kiyo began to use this to his advantage, lifting his bandaged hand up high and parting the ocean like Moses!! The power of lucid dreaming gave him full control of the dream world around him!! Man, I cannot believe I missed this...I'm as salty as that ocean about it! 😤 Anyways, if you thought that was wild, Symbare Angoramon cloned himself half a dozen times and shot six simultaneous Jives and Breakin' Streams into Skull Greymon!! And if THAT wasn't enough, Tesla Jellymon grew to the size of a kaiju and made Skull Greymon look like a pipsqueak!! She wound up a punch so hard it cracked his skull, and unleashed a Vorsprite so powerful that it blew him to pieces!!! With Skull Greymon defeated, it was time to wake Pillomon up. Bakumon arrived at this time after rescuing everyone else from Pillomon's nightmare, ready to help Ruli and Kiyo escape. Things seemed to be drawing to a close, when all of a sudden, Skull Greymon started reviving himself!! "Rot and decay", he uttered once more!! Everyone began shouting at Pillomon to wake up, which thankfully did the trick, waking everyone trapped in his nightmare from their slumber...

It wasn't much of a day for me and Hiro, but it sure was one for the rest of the gang. Bakumon was there too, I wish I could have been there with him. Maybe I'll be around for the next Hologram Ghost encounter...I hope I get to kill some Digimon again soon... 😈 I can't wait for the day I'm finally free again. Once Hokuto's plan falls into place, I will be. It'll be like Pillomon's nightmare, only real!! And I'll be there in place of Skull Greymon!! Mwahahaha!! *ahem* I, uh...I better wrap this up. The night is still young...there's a lot I could do before returning to Hiro's dorm...things neither Hiro nor Gammamon need to know about...perhaps I could...kill again afterall...broaden my potential prey beyond Digimon, something that coward Sealsdramon never dared to try...I think I could get away with it...I'll stir up some Hologram Ghost activity on some unlucky fools wandering the streets tonight...that sounds delightfully devilish! I'll see you all again soon...but be careful...watch your backs out there...you never know...I might be just around the corner...hahahaha! 😈

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞, 𝕲𝖚𝖑𝖚𝖘 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖓

[dark-nymphs-fanfiction]

Every day a bat dies - Beginning

I recently claimed this prompt on AO3:

"Jason gets stuck in a time loop that always ends in one way - the Batman dead. It gives Jason time to come to terms with his relationship with his adoptive father and whether or not he actually hates him."

So far I haven't finished the fic, but I've already started writing, which is why I'm giving you the first draft of the beginning under the cut. Have fun reading!

Jason jumped up, startled. Sweat ran down his forehead and his covers slid off his body as he put a hand on his chest and tried to catch his breath. Nightmares were nothing new to him, but it had been a long time since, he had reacted so strongly to one. Experience showed that there was one thing he didn't want to do: Think about it. Instead, he got up, but instead of jumping in the shower, he grabbed his boxing bandages and slipped his thumbs into the loop, wrapping the rest of the band around his hand moments later. It was dark in his safe house, with only a few working streetlights and passing cars illuminating the room through the windows. Jason didn't mind. He didn't need any light at the moment because he could see the punching bag and, without much hesitation, he struck. A year had passed since Bruce had chosen Joker over him. Jason had spent a few months outside Gotham after that, licking his wounds. But it had taken another three months until he had the Lazarus Pit so far under control that he could think of Batman without wanting to set something on fire right away. Now he had been back for half a year, but had avoided confrontations with the bats. He could forget about his reign over the drug trade, but he went out often enough that no one forgot that many of his rules still applied to Crime Alley. Jason struck out. And again. And again. If his hands hurt, he didn't feel it. He could have started over. Could have tried to get the Joker out of the Asylum again, this time to kill him himself. The only problem was that Jason realized by now that he had no idea how many of his thoughts were his own. Some seemed to have come from Talia, others seemed to have been amplified by the Lazarus Pit. Damn. He had beaten Robin up and laughed while doing it. Once you did something like that, and thought it was a good idea at the time, you had to question all your other decisions. Jason was far from done with the list, though, and whenever he decided that forcing Bruce to shoot Joker had been a good idea, he remembered how it had turned out and suddenly wasn't so sure. "Shit!" he cursed loudly and turned away from the punching bag. He swung something else in the air, but instead of paying attention to it, he ripped the bandages off his hands and disappeared into the bathroom. A quick glance at the clock on the wall, told him that by now it was seven in the morning. Actually, he should lie down again and sleep (four hours of sleep were not enough), but he knew that it would be useless anyway. Jason needed a shower for now. --- Jason rubbed his hair dry as he walked into the kitchen. The shower hadn't done as much good as he had hoped, but at least the sweat was gone now. The nightmare still seemed to haunt him, even though he tried to think of something else every time his head drifted in that direction. He didn't need to know what he had seen this time, and he definitely didn't need to analyze it. Instead, he preferred to crack open a couple of eggs, enjoy how they smelled with the fried bacon, and devour them afterwards as if he hadn't eaten in days. Only then did he go back to his bedroom, make his bed, and look at his phone. Surprisingly, he found that he actually had a missed call from an unknown number. Usually no one called him, which was partly because he didn't give anyone his number. A shiver ran down his spine when he saw the time. 10 o'clock. That had been three minutes ago. Just like in his dream. In his dream, he had woken up just before noon and had also had a missed call at that time. Jason frowned. He could call back. He probably should call back. In his world, there was no such thing as coincidences. Once you knew that gods, magic, and meta-beings really existed, you couldn't hope that a dream was just a dream. And yet Jason deleted the notification and grabbed his book to read a round. In the dream he had gone shopping, and although his refrigerator was indeed somewhat raided, he just didn't want to have to think about how weird this whole day had been.

[cuntyqueerleondraisaitl]

Sambucky confession post #279

Ship: Sambucky

Fandom: Marvel

Warnings: Some mild description of gore

Fluff level: OMG

Summary: Sam is spending some quality time with his family, but a distressing call from Clint may just change his life forever

Note: Sorry for spelling errors. I've had this idea for a while and I thought it would be nice to get it out there. Sorry for any inconsistencies.

Sam chuckled, he didn't know why. He was just so happy. It had been only a month since he had last seen his sister, but it felt like forever. “Good morning“ Sarah walked into the small kitchen and placed a loving peck on his forehead “You look like you slept well”

Sam nodded, he had definitely had a good night. No nightmares, no waking up for no reason, He'd had slept for a solid, uninterrupted 10 hours. ”Any news from your boyfriend?” Sarah asked

Sam laughed again “He's not my boyfriend. Bucky and I are best friends but I just don't like him like that.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “You’re in denial, “ She said, but too softly for Sam to hear,. “The boys will be back in a couple hours, they're staying at a friend's house tonight.” He nodded.

His nephews were the closest thing he had to kids of his own. And Sam loved them like it too.

”You've got a call from Clint,” Sarah said, handing Sam his ringing phone. ” He probably just wants to give me some more information,” Sam said, still grinning “there was something about another Captain America meeting. They keep inventing more forms for me to sign.”

Sam tapped to open the call. Clints face appeared, it was choppy, like there wasn't service wherever he was.

"Sam, get here right away, my place. It's Bucky, I don't know If he'll make it. He was shot-" The connection fizzled out. Sam shot up out of his chair, crashing his bowl to the floor. "I have to go" Sarah looked concerned. "What happened?"

"I have to go RIGHT NOW." Sam had tears in his eyes. "Bucky- I can' lose Bucky. Not another one." Sam never even got to tell him- No. Bucky was going to live. "I need a way to get to Missouri fast."

Sarah tilted her head at him. "Oh. right." Sam ran up to the room he had slept the night before and took his wings out from underneath his bed. As he soared off into the early morning sun he wondered if Bucky would still be alive the next time he saw him.

Sam burst into Clints house, his face covered in sweat and his eyes brimming with tears. “WHERE IS HE?” Sam yelled it as loud as he could “I NEED TO SEE HIM.” Clint nodded, unfazed by Sam's yelling.

“Sam… You have to understand. He's only alive by a miracle really . The bullets, six of them, managed to miss his spine and his organs. He lost a lot of blood. You have to understand…” Clint didn’t finish his sentence. Sam ignored him, and pushed his way to the back room. Bucky lay face up on the bed, the blood of six bullet wounds apparent through his bandages. Sam gripped Bucky's limp hand, and shut his eyes tight. Throughout the next few hours Clint described what happed, and Sam had to admit, if the situation had been different he would have been quite smitten with what had happened. Clint had gotten a choppy sounding call from an unknown number. The person claiming to be Sam. The impersonator claimed to have been tied up in a warehouse a couple hours away from Clints place. Bucky had not taken any extra time and rushed in immediately, blinded by ”some unknown desire to save his teammate“ as Clint called it. Following the callers instructions he had walked all the way into the back of the warehouse where he had been ambushed by a lone person and shot six times. Clint had shot an arrow at his feet and asked him who he was working for, to which he answered for nobody. Clint threw him off the balcony and killed him, before taking Bucky back to his place. Sam stayed by Bucky's side until late that night, when he drifted off, still gripping Bucky's hand he was only woken by a faint groaning sound. “Bucky” Sam sat up, peeling his cheek from Bucky’s sheets “Are you awake? Oh god, I have to go get Clint. Aw man this is-“

”No, Sam listen to me. I can't stay awake much longer. Listen I don't know if I'm going to make it. I just have to tell you-“ Bucky took a shaky breath, his face contorte, he was obviously in intense pain. “I have to tell you, I love you Sam.”

Sams eyes widened. Ok Sam. Calm down. He probably doesn’t mean it like that. Don't jump to amazin, wonderful conclusions. “I love you too Buck, you're a great friend.”

”No, not like that. Ever since I met you, ever since we started being, you know, friends. Sam, I wanted to be more. The only reason I'm telling you this is I don’t know if I'm gonna make it through this, but-“ Bucky never got to finish his sentence. Sam pressed his lips to his, letting him feel Bucky’s warmth and them merge into one.

Sam didn’t remember falling aslee, all he knew was Clint shaking him awake. “Sam, SAM.” For a horrible , horrible moment, Sam thought Bucky was gone. But then he saw Clints face “It’s a miracle, I think he's going to be ok. What did you do to him?” The memories of last night came flooding back. Sam looked away, embarrassed. ”Nothing, nothing at all.” He could feel the color rising in his cheeses, and also somehow felt the peircing of Clints eyes bearing into his neck. He knew, but somehow, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that Bucky was going to be okay.

Part 2? Idk, maybe it would be cute.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Epilogue 9

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Content warnings: brief restraint, minor panic attack, minor flashback/moment of unreality

Morgan still missed the familiar gardens of the Necropolis. They had been impressive; orderly and carefully maintained, each plant with its own purpose and uses. But these gardens here in Scosglen, the heart of the Druids' homeland, were something altogether different. The only criterion for a specimen's inclusion was its ability to grow and thrive, no matter its utility. Medicinal herbs grew alongside ornamental flowers, the leaves of edible plants peeking up through the spaces between them. It was chaos, breathtaking and vibrant and fervently living. It was paradise.

Given his new personal quest to memorize every inch of the gardens, it was difficult for Morgan to find any time to rest. Blaise had woken him from a doze more than once, having worked past his limits and passed out against a sturdy tree or other inviting space in the greenery. Here he dreamt mainly of nature, of the beauty surrounding him. It would probably, he thought from time to time, be a good idea to get more sleep while it seemed almost guaranteed to be free from nightmares. But those thoughts were easily pushed aside in favour of learning, exploring, taking in all the Druids could offer.

Morgan was admiring the petals of a striped orchid when unfamiliar footsteps interrupted his concentration. Rather than tearing his eyes away from the flower, he split his attention a little to cast a glance at the person's frame with his mind's eye instead. They were small for an adult, though not as small as him. Older, it looked like, based on the erosion of the joints. The left hand was missing. They were definitely approaching him, so he reluctantly turned away from the orchid to face them.

"I've seen you in here several times now, but I didn't want to disturb you. Are you enjoying our gardens?" It was an older woman, grey streaking the auburn hair at her temples. She wore a friendly smile and robes with some sort of clan symbol embroidered above the heart. It looked as though she would have been clasping her hands behind her back, if she'd had both of them. Morgan gave a shallow bow.

"Yes, very much. It's beautiful here. I've never seen anything like it."

"We do have an impressive diversity," she replied. "My name is Enid." She pressed her palms together in a gesture of greeting. "I can answer any questions you might still have, or I can continue to leave you be."

Until a moment ago, Morgan hadn't had any questions. But in the greeting she had revealed her left hand, which appeared to be composed of some sort of fibrous vines. She was close enough that he could make out the offset pairs of spines along their tightly twined lengths.

"Are those assassin vines? Do you have to eat much more than usual to maintain them?"

Enid chuckled. "Those aren't the first questions people usually ask. But yes, they are. And no, not much. I just need to make sure I drink plenty of water."

Fascinating. They were a carnivorous plant by nature, but if they were rooted into her system that would certainly satisfy their needs. Perhaps with an adequately nutritious diet it would simply be a matter of maintaining sufficient blood volume. Oh - but perhaps he'd missed a socially significant question.

"What do people usually ask?"

"What happened, if it hurts, that sort of thing." It was difficult to tell from her expression whether or not she approved of that sort of inquiry.

"Oh. What happened is none of my business, and I assume the other answer is yes." Morgan's own prosthesis produced a certain base level of pain, anyway, which he generally did his best to ignore. "How do you keep them in the right shape? Are they autonomous?"

Enid's smile did not falter, so it seemed fair to assume she didn't mind this atypical line of questioning. "I use the Caoi Dúlra, like all Druids. They do whatever they like when I'm not actively using them, but since they don't need to hunt, that isn't much. You can touch them, if you like." She extended the hand toward Morgan.

"No, thank you." He did have further questions, though. "I thought the Caoi Dúlra was a philosophy. Harmony with the cycles of nature. How do you use it for this?" As far as he'd gleaned, it was just another way to understand what he knew as the Great Cycle of Being, the larger picture of the way individual lives and deaths rolled into the constantly changing force of existence.

"It is also a philosophy. But through practice and deep understanding we can bond with the natural entities of our world. It looks like manipulation, but at its heart it is more of a cooperation than anything else. Anyone can learn, but it takes most a great deal of time and effort to master."

"Anyone?"

"Yes. It isn't like other magic, where you need to be born with a certain aptitude. I could even teach you a little now, if you like."

"I would like that very much. How do we start?"

"Come over here, place your hand on this trunk. She's good for beginners. There, now close your eyes and reach out with your mind. You're connected, you're the same. Her sap is just the same as your lifeblood. Feel it flow under your hand."

Morgan tried. He was not the same as the tree, however nice it might be to imagine, but he set that aside and tried to make the mental connection. However, just like the vines enshrouding Kurast, his reaching will found no answer. He knew there was sapwood there under the bark, drawing nutrients up from the earth to carry throughout the tree just as his own vascular system kept blood flowing through him. The similarity was easy enough to conceptualize but when he tried to open his mind and connect there was simply nothing on the other end.

"Do you feel it yet?"

"No. I'm trying, but I can't feel anything."

"Here, let me help you get started." Morgan opened his eyes just in time to see Enid reach out to place her hand on top of his. He did not flinch away as she pressed his palm more firmly against the tree. His curiosity about this new type of magic potential outweighed the discomfort of the contact.

Enid frowned, a deep furrow forming between her brows. "Something is wrong with you," she declared.

Morgan tried gently to remove his hand but Enid didn't budge. He shuffled his feet, anxiety suddenly twisting down through his stomach.

"Could you please let go of me?"

She did not. Instead she seized him by the wrists and turned him to face her, surprisingly strong for her age. He smothered a yelp as the spines on her left hand pricked through his skin. The vines squeezed tighter, sensing prey. Morgan swallowed and tried with all his might not to pull and twist and yank his hands away. Logically, he knew that wouldn't do him any good. Logic had nothing to do with the fear that stabbed through him like ice, urging him desperately to free himself.

"What are you?" Enid hissed. "What are you doing here?" Her face was too close, her voice too rough. Too similar to the memories dragging themselves up out from where he'd tried to bury them. He'd been restrained at the wrists then, too.

"I, I'm just," Morgan stammered, heart hammering at his ribs, "I'm just a person. I'm not doing anything, I only wanted to be in your gardens. Please let go, you're hurting–"

"Don't lie to me." Enid's eyes were flat and cold. "You're severed from the Caoi Dúlra. That takes a great and terrible power to accomplish. If you mean to spread your vile corruption here, in the heart of our home, in the very–"

"I don't, I don't, I swear, please, I'm not lying!"

Panic won out and Morgan wrenched back with his shoulders. All it earned him was the sickening sensation of the spines piercing deeper into the meat of his wrist. Their hungry points dug even further into his flesh with each panicky gasp. Even when he managed to still himself, trying and failing to breathe deep and steady, the vines continued to constrict.

Just like coils of serpentine muscle, tightening slowly and inexorably as he struggled to breathe. He was going to snap and shatter into pieces, and then he would be put back together to be broken apart again, and he couldn't bear it, and it didn't matter that he couldn't bear it because it was happening anyway, and it would happen over and over and–

"Please," Morgan heard himself begging distantly. "Please, just let–"

The sun came out from behind a cloud, sending beams of light shining down through the canopy in a beautiful display. The shift was just enough to edge Morgan back into reality. He clamped his jaw shut around the shape of the next words as he tried to swallow back his terror. It stuck in his throat like sand. Enid glared at him with raw disgust, and the heat of it started to make a dent in the impenetrable ice of his fear.

"Please just let me go," he said instead, voice still audibly trembling. "I swear I don't intend any harm. I'll go, I won't – I won't even touch anything, I'll leave peacefully, please."

"How," Enid demanded. "Tell me how you became severed and I'll decide if you get to leave peacefully or not."

Morgan struggled to think over the whirl of thoughts and memories, over the urgent drumbeat of pain pulsing in his wrist with every too-fast contraction of his heart. "I don't know, I – my arm? The left. It's, ah. I. Modified it."

He sagged in relief as Enid released his right wrist, pushing up his loose sleeve to run both of her hands up and down his golem arm in apparent evaluation. She prodded and squeezed at the part where it hooked into the original limb in a snarl of displaced tissue. Morgan hissed a soft breath through his teeth but did not dare protest any further.

"This isn't it. It's crude, and the metal is unnatural, but it wouldn't be enough to cause a rift like this. Something else," she demanded.

Even with the fresh pain tugging at his attention, it was easier to think with his wrists free. Morgan spared a glance at the pinpoints of blood beading up where the spines had pierced him. They were stark, the contrast against his skin almost like ink on parchment. They were also very small, completely out of scale with the fear they had induced in him. How ridiculous. This situation warranted nervousness at most, not the crushing dread that had descended on him. He flexed his hand and stretched his fingers as he gave his next guess.

"I once made a deal with an ifrit. It said it would take my fertility in exchange for a boon."

Enid scowled disdainfully as she released him, taking a step back. "That must be it. They're powerful enough. You didn't think that through, did you? Fertility is more than just your seed, reproduction more than just your spawn. Only fools think they can get the better of an ifrit. Whatever you got, it can't have been worth it."

Morgan remained silent, eyes deferentially cast down. It had been crucially important, and he would make the deal again in an instant if he had the choice in front of him now. But Enid seemed unlikely to either understand or sympathize. That didn't matter, so long as she didn't touch him any more.

"I believe you're a coward and a halfwit, but not a malicious one," she said next. Morgan could not object to her brusque but accurate assessment. "Still," she continued, "you need to leave. You are in violation of the Caoi Dúlra. I want you gone by this time tomorrow, otherwise you will be forcibly ejected."

"Thank you," Morgan said, bowing respectfully.

"Don't thank me," Enid scoffed, "just be on your way. Get your blight away from my home."

"Yes, of course, madam."

Leaving this verdant paradise was just about the last thing Morgan wanted to do, but the point was not worth pushing. At least Enid had been generous, allowing him a full day to prepare. More than long enough to plan his next steps with Blaise. Their next steps together. That still beggared belief. But there she was, time and time again, choosing to travel with him despite everything. Just thinking about it felt like holding a warm mug of tea on a cool morning.

Morgan cast a final glance at the lush foliage of the gardens, took one last deep breath of the sweet green alive smell of so many plants all thriving together. It had been much too good to last, of course. Nothing lasted forever anyway, but it had been a very pleasant fantasy to entertain at the back of his mind. To stay here, to be permitted to help with what little tending the gardens required. To find a place he could fit into this perfect picture. Of course it wasn't possible, could never have been possible. But at least he still had Blaise, and the future. That was better anyway. He set off to find her.

[bi-bard]

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Song Drawn: peace

Word Count: 746 words

Warning(s): hallucinations, past trauma

Summary: (Season 7) Sam had been struggling since he had come back from the cage. As his condition worsens, (Y/n) tries everything to help him.

Author's Note: This is part of my folklore/evermore writing challenge! You can read about it by clicking here and read what I've written for it so far by clicking here!

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I walked down the stairs of Bobby's house slowly. It was late but I had woken up thirsty and finally convinced myself to go get some water. So, I carefully tried to avoid the squeakiest parts of Bobby's stairs as I walked toward the kitchen.

I was shocked to see Sam awake and sitting at the kitchen table. He looked like he was staring at something on the other side of the room.

"Sammy," I asked.

He looked up at me, shocked to see me too.

"You look awful," he said.

"Shut up, I just woke up," I replied. "And it's three in the morning."

He seemed surprised by that.

"You haven't been to bed, have you," I asked. He looked at the table. "Sam."

"I can't sleep," he explained. "I haven't been able to since... I got my soul back."

I didn't even think about it. Death said the wall in his mind was delicate. I should've thought that there's going to be something that snuck through the cracks.

"Is it nightmares," I asked. He shook his head. I pulled the other dining room table over to him.

I could tell he was uncomfortable. I carefully reached over and touched his hand. He finally made full eye contact with me. I gave him a gentle smile.

"What's going on in your head, Sammy," I mumbled.

I had seen the boys as part of my family forever. Sam and I have always had a different bond than Dean and me. I remember grieving for months after he was gone. I remember letting him stay in my room after his brother was dragged to hell... before he ran off with Ruby for a while.

Sam looked over my shoulder for a second too long. I looked over my shoulder. Nothing was there.

"Sam," I said, now nervous. "What is it?"

"It's... Lucifer," he closed his eyes. He seemed embarrassed. "I've been seeing him since I got my soul back."

"He's tormenting you," I added. Sam nodded at me. I held onto his hand tighter. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I... I don't know," he said.

I scooted closer to him and laid my head on his shoulder. A silent form of comfort. I bit my lip for a moment.

"Do you remember the first time we stayed at Bobby's at the same time," I asked. I could tell that Sam was confused, even though he wasn't looking at me. "I was coming down the stairs as you guys showed up. I tripped down the stairs and almost knocked Bobby over."

I felt Sam's shoulders shake as he chuckled.

"Or when I got mad at Dean and tried to punch him," I continued. "You tried to grab my hand but you couldn't stop me so I ended up making you hit him."

"Thank god I was only like 14," Sam added, now laughing genuinely.

I continued telling stories, keeping his mind off of the vision in the corner. I couldn't save him completely, but if I could take some of the weight off of his shoulders, I would be okay with that.

"(Y/n)," Sam said softly after our latest fit of muffled laughter had died down. I hummed.

He turned his body so he could actually look at me. I just grinned at him. He leaned over and gently pressed his lips against me. In complete shock, I pulled back slightly.

"Crap," Sam mumbled. "I'm sorry... I thought-"

After I recovered from the shock, I leaned in and kissed him again. I let my hand creep up into his hair. The kiss was pretty short but it was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. It felt like everything around us heated up.

We both just kind of looked at each other.

I slowly rested on his shoulder again with a smile, "That was... really nice."

"Yeah," Sam mumbled.

"Are you tired yet," I asked.

"I don't think I've ever been so awake," he chuckled.

We fell into a comfortable silence after that. I tried to keep an eye on his behavior just in case Lucifer popped back up. We ended up creating a quiet and understanding place. The past and the fears of the future were shrugged off, saved for another time as Sam and I relished in our forever changed situation.

It was as close to perfect as we were ever going to find... at least that's what we both believed at the time.

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[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 12

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3rd Person POV

The days creep by, and there is no doubt that Fluffy is still alive and well behind the locked door.

It is sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watches them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox is, but taken away if it still had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while Harry, Ron, and Hermione remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion, and when they finish, watch as (Y/n) practically sweats her whole body weight as she is instructed to make a Fire Protection Potion.

(Y/n) walks out of the Potions classroom an hour after everyone else and trudges up to lunch, her robes sticking to her. When (Y/n) slumps down at the table between Hermione and Harry, the other five look at her.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asks as (Y/n) grabs a peanut butter sandwich.

(Y/n) sighs. "Well, Snape didn't exactly say anything good or bad about it, so," she shrugs. "I could have failed or just achieved the highest grade of any first year ever." (Y/n) pulls a vial of blackish purple liquid out of the pocket of the robes. "I could set myself on fire and then drink it."

"Not a good idea, (Nickname)," Fred says, passing by and sitting across from her. "Everyone might not like you much, but you don't need to solve that problem by setting yourself on fire."

"For once, my brother's right," Ron says.

"If my potion worked, I wouldn't be setting myself on fire," (Y/n) points out, smiling for the first time in weeks, and everyone else seems to cheer up at the smile.

Over the last few weeks, (Y/n) and Harry had been trying to ignore the stabbing pains in their neck and head, respectively, which had been bothering them since (Y/n)'s trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry was having a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept begin woken by his old nightmare, except that is was now worse than ever because he was now seeing a hooded figure dripping blood in it that (Y/n) had described.

Maybe it is because they hadn't seen what (Y/n) had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their necks or foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry and (Y/n). The idea of Voldemort clearly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying that they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam is History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invested self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful wee until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns tells them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry can't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," says Hermione as they join the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds.

"We didn't need to study the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or Elfric the Eager," (Y/n) adds.

The two always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron says this made him feel ill, so they wander down to the lake and flop under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan are tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which is basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighs happily, stretching out on the grass.

"You two could look more cheerful, (Y/n), Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet," Hermione adds.

Harry was rubbing his forehead, and (Y/n) had her hand pressed to her neck, rubbing slightly.

"I wish I knew what this means!" Harry bursts out angrily.

"Same, my scar keeps hurting," (Y/n) adds. "It's happened before, but not this often."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggests.

"We're not ill," retorts Harry. "I think it's a warning . . . it means danger's coming . . ."

Ron wouldn't get worked up, it's too hot, "Harry, (Y/n), relax. Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy."

"It's not Snape," (Y/n) interjects but Ron just continues.

"He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

(Y/n) nods, but she can't shake the lurking feeling that there is something she'd forgotten to do, something important. When she tries to explain this, Hermione says, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

(Y/n) is sure that the unsettling feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. She watches an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in it's beak. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluff . . . never . . . but -

(Y/n) suddenly jumps to her feet.

"Where are you going?" asks Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought," (Y/n) says and Hermione studies her sister, who's face had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" pants Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," says (Y/n), sprinting up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid want more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if they're against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, right? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" asks Ron, but (Y/n), sprinting across the grounds towards the forest, doesn't answer.

Hagrid is sitting in an armchair outside his house, his trousers and sleeves are rolled up, and he is shelling peas into a large bowl. "Hullo," he says, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," answers Ron, but (Y/n) cuts him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," answers Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off." He sees the six of them looking stunned and raises his eyebrows. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head —that's one o' the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

(Y/n) sinks down next to the bowl of peas, "What did you talk about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," replies Hagrid, frowning as he tries to remember."Yeah . . . he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. . . . He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after . . . so I told him . . . an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon . . . an' then . . . I can'remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. . . . Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted . . . but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home. . . . So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy. . . ."

"And did he — did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asks, trying to keep his voice calm

"Well — yeah — how many three-headed dogs d' yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep —" Hagrid suddenly looks horrified. "I shouldn't a told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey —where're yeh goin'?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and (Y/n) don't speak to each other until they come to a halt in the entrance hall, which seems very cold and gloomy after the warm, summery grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," says Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it might've been easy, once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They look around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to —" Harry begins, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

What are you four doing inside?"

It is Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," says Hermione, rather bravely, the others think.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeat, as though it is a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallows - What now?

"It's sort of secret," he says, but he wishes at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flare.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she says coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" asks Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," says Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's Stone -"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she is carrying tumble out of her arms, but she doesn't pick them up, so (Y/n) darts over, picks up the books, and silently holds them out to her head of house, but she doesn't take them.

"How do you know -?" McGonagall splutters.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn - that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk with Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall eyes him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she says finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor -"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she answers shortly. She takes the books from (Y/n). "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they don't.

"It's tonight," says Harry, once he is sure Professor McGonagall is out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we -"

Hermione gasps softly, and the others wheel around.

Snape is standing there.

"Good afternoon," he says smoothly.

They stare at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he says, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were -" Harry begins, without any idea what he is going to say.

"You want to be more careful," says Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

(Y/n) flushes. They turn to go outside, but Snape calls them back.

"Be warned, Potter - any more nighttime wanderings and I personally make sure you are expelled," Snape then turns to (Y/n). "(L/n), come with me," he says and she nods.

Snape strides towards the dungeons and (Y/n) jogs after him.

Once in the Potions Master's office, Snape sits down at his desk, and gestures for (Y/n) to sit down across from him. (Y/n) sits down nervously as Snape opens a folder and slides it in front of her.

The Potions Master nods encouragingly, and then (Y/n) takes a hold of the folder, gazing down at the paper inside.

Name (Last, First): (L/n), (Y/n)

DOB: October 31st, 19879

Year: 1

Exam: Potions 1

Score: 327%

Next Class Recommendation: Potions 4

(Y/n) stares at the score, "How?"

"You automatically get an extra hundred percent added because you took a harder exam," Snape tells the girl.

"What about the other 127%?" (Y/n) asks doing quick math.

"It's for making a Third year level potion," Snape says.

"So next year I'll be taking Forth year Potions?" (Y/n) asks and Snape nods.

Then the Potions Master smiles, slightly unsettling (Y/n). "I've impressed by your performance this year, (Y/n)," Snape says. (Y/n) beams at the compliment from the teacher that never gave compliments. (Y/n) stands up to leave and when she gets to the door, Snape says something, "You look a lot like your parents, you know? You have your mother's eyes," (Y/n) turns around, a sad expression on her face.

"Nobody's ever told me that before," (Y/n) murmurs her eyes flashing silver, walking back to stand in front of her Professor's desk.

What the two didn't know was that Hermione was waiting outside the door, listening - not on purpose, of course - to the conversation.

(Y/n) sits down in the chair across from Snape and the Potions Master continues. "I was friends with your mother when she was at school." (Y/n) sits straighter in her chair, interest flickering in her eyes. "(M/n), she was a Gryffindor," (Y/n) smiles at the thought. "Even though they were from different houses, you could never separate the two. (M/n), she was best friends with Lily Evans, who married James Potter," (Y/n) could sense her Professor tense at Harry's father's name.

Snape, looking at the girl, notices her eyes slowly turning back to their brilliant emerald green.

"Your mother was a great Quidditch player, and excelled at Transfiguration. She was an amazing friends" Snape's voice turns wistful and (Y/n) studies her Professor with gentle eyes.

"Thank you for telling me about her, Professor," (Y/n) says.

"It was no problem," Snape says gently, he and (Y/n) standing up, (Y/n) grabbing the Potions Exam paper, and the two walk out of the classroom and are met by Thora and Hermione standing on either side of the door.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asks sharply.

"I came to wait for my sister," Hermione answers.

(Y/n) flashes her a questioning look before nodding to her Potion's Master.

Hermione walks slightly behind (Y/n) as they walk up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swings open and the duo walks in, Harry and Ron turning to look at them.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione wails from behind (Y/n); (Y/n) sits down on the arm of Harry's chair. "Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so we said we were waiting for (Y/n). We don't know where Snape went."

(Y/n) groans in exasperation, "You really think it's still Snape?"

"Yep," Harry says.

"So, that's it then, isn't it?" (Y/n) says finally, as a stab of pain pulses through the scar on her neck.

The others stare at her. (Y/n) had turned pale and her eyes are glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first," (Y/n) says, a frown on her face.

"You're mad!" says Ron.

"You can't!" says Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"So what?" Harry shouts.

"Don't you understand?" (Y/n) asks, her voice softer, her gaze flickering silver. "If whoever gets the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over?" The others gaze at her, eyes wide. "There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it! Losing points doesn't matter anymore?If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to find somewhere else to go," catching Hermione's shocked glances, she continues, "I'm not letting anyone else I care about die for me." (Y/n) swallows thickly, "It's only dying a bit later than I would have. I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you can say is going to stop me!"

"I'm going too," Harry says and (Y/n)'s silver gaze shifts to him. "Voldemort killed my parents too." (Y/n)'s gaze softens.

"You're both right," Hermione says in a small voice.

"We'll use the Invisibility Cloak," says Harry.

"But will it cover all four of us?" asks Ron.

Harry turns to Ron. "All - all four of us?" Harry asks.

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" Ron asks.

"Of course not," says Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful . . ."

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," says Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me and (Y/n) in secret that we got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner, (Y/n), Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit apart from the other three in the common room. Nobody bothers them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to (Y/n) anymore, after all. This was the first night she hadn't been upset by it. (Y/n) darts upstairs, and pulls out the small trunk where she keeps extra potions. The only one she had was the fire protection, which she pockets into her hoodie, pocketing her wand and she straps small knife in a sheath on her left forearm, making sure her hoodie covered the sheath.

(Y/n) scampers downstairs and over to her three friends, who were standing around the Invisibility Cloak.

"We'd better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on it's own -"

"What are you doing?" comes a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appears from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looks as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," answers Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back.

Neville stares at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," Neville realizes, looking into (Y/n)'s green eyes.

"No, no, no," says Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go back to bed, Neville?"

Harry looks at the grandfather clock by the door. We couldn't afford to waste any more time, Harry thinks, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out again," Neville tells (Y/n), "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," says Harry, "this is important."

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. "I won't let you do it," he says, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron explodes, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot—"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" retorts Neville. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," answers Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

He takes a step forward and Neville drops Trevor the toad, who leaps out of sight."Go on then, try and hit me!" says Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Harry turns to Hermione."Do something," he whines desperately.

But it's (Y/n) who reacts, drawing her Alder wood wand out of her pocket, "I'm sorry about this Neville." She raises her wand, "Petrificus Totalus." Neville's arms snap to his sides, and his legs spring together. His whole body rigid, he sways where he stands and then falls flat on his face, stiff as a board.

(Y/n) runs to turn him over. Neville's jaws are jammed together so he can't speak. Only his eyes are moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Harry whispers.

"It's the full Body-Bind," says (Y/n) miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," says Harry.

"You'll understand later, Neville," says Ron as they step over him and pull on the Invisibility Cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor doesn't feel like a very good omen.

In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looks like Filch, and every distant breath of wind sounds like Peeves swooping down on them.

At the fit of the first set of stairs, they spot Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispers in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climb carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turns her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They don't meet anyone else until they reach teh staircase up to the third floor. Peeves is bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" Peeves asks suddenly as they climb towards him. He narrows his wicked black eyes, "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?" He rises up in the air and floats there, squinting at them.

Harry has a sudden idea. "Peeves," he says, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost falls out of the air in shock. He catches himself in time and hovers about a foot off the stairs. "So sorry, you bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he says greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaks Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," says Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you." And he scoots off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispers Ron, an impressed look on (Y/n)'s face.

A few seconds later, they are there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door is already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Harry says quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

"It's not Snape," (Y/n) hisses, never feeling more correct after her talk with her Potions Master earlier.

But seeing the open door somehow seems to impress upon all four of them what is facing them. Underneath the Cloak, (Y/n) turns to the other three.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," she says softly. "You can take the Cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," says Ron.

"We're coming," insists Hermione.

Harry reaches over and pushes the door open the rest of the way.

As the door creaks, low, rumbling growls meet their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniff madly in their direction, even though it can't see them.

"What's that at it's feet?" Hermione asks in a soft whisper.

"Looks like a harp," replies Ron. "Snape must have left it there."

Deciding not to argue anymore about Snape, (Y/n) keeps her mouth shut.

Harry puts Hagrid's flute to his lips and blows. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note, the beast's eyes begin to droop. Harry hardly draws breath. Slowly, the dog's growls cease - it totters on its paws and falls to its knees, then it slumps on the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warns Harry as they slip out of the Cloak and creeps towards the trapdoor. They can feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as the approach the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," says Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!" Hermione snaps.

"I'll go first," (Y/n) whispers. She steps carefully over the dog's legs. She bends and pulls the ring of the trapdoor; the trapdoor swings up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione asks anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop," (Y/n) whispers. She swings her legs into the trapdoor. She looks directly at Hermione, meeting her sister's gaze. "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, okay?"

Hermione nods, a flash of fear showing in her brown eyes.

"See you in a minute, I hope . . ." (Y/n) slides the rest of the way into the trapdoor and lets go. Cold, damp air rushes past her as she falls down, down, down and -

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump, she lands on something soft. She sits up and feels around, her eyes not used to the gloom. It feels as though she is sitting on some soft of plant.

"It's okay!" she calls up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Ron and Harry follow right away. They land, sprawled next to (Y/n).

"What's this stuff?" are Ron's first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing," (Y/n) rasps. "I suppose it's here to break the fall."

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry calls as something snakes it's way up (Y/n)'s neck and (Y/n) tries to pull away, but whatever it was, tightens around her.

The distant music stops; there is a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped, landing on (Y/n)'s other side.

"We must be miles under the school," Hermione comments.

"Luck this plant thing's here," Ron says.

"Lucky!" shrieks Hermione. "Look at the three of you!" She leaps up and struggles towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist, snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

(Y/n) however, had the tendrils had wrapped around her neck and Hermione watches in horror as the three fight to pull the plant off themselves, but the more they strain against it, the tighter and faster the plant wounds around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione orders them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

(Y/n), panicking, begins to strain more, and the Devil's Snare tightens around her chest. (Y/n) thrashes around in the plant's grasp and the Devil's Snare tightens painfully around her, the vial in her pocket pressing into her stomach, ready to shatter.

(Y/n) begins feeling faint from the loss of air, hears Ron bellow, "HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

A few seconds later, the three feel it loosening its grip as it cringes away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravels itself from their bodies and they are able to pull free.

(Y/n)'s chest heaves as she regains her breath, Harry holding up her up.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," (Y/n) rasps.

"Yeah," adds Ron, "and lucky (Y/n) doesn't lose her head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly."

"Only my breath," (Y/n) jokes, once her breath completely returns, though the others could see the dark bruise beginning to form on her neck. "Right, this way," says (Y/n), pointing down a stone passageway, which is the only way forward.

All the four can hear, apart from their footsteps is the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passage way slopes downward, and Harry is reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembers the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough . . .

"Can you hear something?" Ron asks in a soft whisper.

(Y/n) listens, hearing a soft rustling and clicking noise seeming to come from ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Harry wonders.

"I don't think so," (Y/n) answers. "It sounds like wings."

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving," Hermione adds, exchanging a look with (Y/n).

They reach the end of the passageway and sees before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high them. It is full of small, jewel-bright things, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the room is a very heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" wonders Ron.

"Probably," answers Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once . . . well, there's no other choice . . . I'll run." He takes a deep breath, covers his face with his arms, and sprints across the room. He expects to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happens. He reaches the door untouched, and he pulls on the handle, but it's locked.

Hermione and Ron follow but (Y/n) gazes up and around the chamber.

"Guys!" (Y/n) calls, her voice echoing around the room, and the other three turn to look at her. The three catch (Y/n) gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "They're not birds! They're keys - winged keys." Her emerald gaze studies the chamber again and she catches sight of three broomsticks. "We've got to catch the key to the door." (Y/n) jogs over to the door and studies the lock.

"But there are hundreds of them!" Ron exclaims.

"We're looking for a big, old fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle," (Y/n) says. "Probably has a crumpled wing," she murmurs. (Y/n), Ron, and Harry grab brooms and soar into the midst of the cloud of keys.

Not for nothing, though, was (Y/n) the youngest Seeker in a century. She had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, she notices a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole. "That one!" she calls. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side.

Ron goes speeding in the direction that (Y/n) is pointing, crashes into the ceiling, and almost falls of his broom.

"We've got to close in on it!" (Y/n) calls, not taking her eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above - Harry, stay below and stop it from going down - and I'll try to catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dives, Harry rocket's upward, the key dodges them both, and (Y/n) streaks after it; it speeds towards the wall, (Y/n) leans forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pins it to the stone with one hand. Ron, Harry, and Hermione's cheers echo around the high chamber.

They land quickly, and (Y/n) sprints for the door, the key struggling in her hand. She rams it into the lock and turns - it worked. The moment the lock had clicks open, the key takes flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" (Y/n) asks the other three, her hand on the door handle. They nod, and she pulls the door open.

The next chamber is so dark they can't see anything at all, so (Y/n) casts the Lumos charm, but then light floods the room to reveal an astonishing sight, (Y/n) extinguishing her wand light.

They are standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller then they area and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, across the chamber, are the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) shiver slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispers.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" says Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they can see another door.

"How?" asks Hermione nervously, (Y/n) placing a comforting on her friend's shoulder.

"I think," (Y/n) says, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

Ron walks over to a black knight and puts his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone springs to life, the horse pawing the ground and the knight turns his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?" Ron asks. The black knight nods and Ron turns to the other three. "This needs thinking about . . ." Ron mumbles. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces . . ." The three stay quiet, watching Ron think. Finally, he says, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of the three of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," says Harry quickly.

"Just tell us what to do," (Y/n) says gently.

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there, instead of that castle, (Y/n), you take that knight there."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be that other knight," answers Ron.

The chessmen seem to have been listening, because at these words both knights, a bishop, and a castle turn their backs on the white pieces and walk off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione take.

"White always plays first in chess," says Ron, peering across the board. "Yes . . . look . . ."

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron starts to direct the black pieces, occasionally asking (Y/n) for advice, but mostly on his own, the pieces moving silently wherever he sent them.

Harry's knees are trembling, What if we lose?

"Harry - move diagonally four squares to the right."

The first real shock comes when their other bishop is taken. (Y/n) lets out a cry as the queen smashes the bishop - who was beside her - to the floor and drags him off the board, where he lies quite still, face down.

"Had to let that happen," explains Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you to take that bishop, (Y/n), go on."

Every time one of their pieces is lost, the white pieces show no mercy. Soon there is a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed that Harry, Hermione, and (Y/n) were in danger. He himself darts around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," Ron mutters suddenly. "Let me think - let me think.

The white queen turns her blank face towards Ron.

"Yes . . ." says Ron softly, it's the only way . . . I've got to be taken."

"No!" Harry, (Y/n), and Hermione shout.

"That's chess," snaps Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I'll make my move and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron -"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron calls, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He steps forward, and the white queen pounces. She strikes Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashes to the floor - Hermione and (Y/n) scream but stay on their squares - the white queen drags Ron to one side. He looks as though he's been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moves three spaces to the left.

The white king takes off his crown and throws it at Harry's feet. They had won. The chessmen part and bow, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry and (Y/n) and Hermione charge through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's - ?"

"He'll be alright," (Y/n) soothes, trying to convince herself, as well as Hermione.

"What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare," Hermione begins.

"Flitwick must've put charms on the keys and McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive," (Y/n) continues.

"That leaves Quirrell's and Snape's," Hermione finishes.

They had reached another door.

"All right?" (Y/n) whispers.

"Go on."

(Y/n) pushes it open, her wand drawn.

A disgusting smell fills their nostrils, making the three of them pull their robes over their noses. Eyes watering, they see, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they tackled, out cold with a blood lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispers as they step carefully over one of its massive legs.

"Tell me about it," (Y/n) mutters.

(Y/n) pulls open the next door, the three of them hardly daring to look at what comes next - but there is nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," Harry says. "What do we have to do?"

They step over the threshold and immediately, a fire springs up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shoot up in the doorway leading onward. They are trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seizes a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and (Y/n) look over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione lets out a great sigh, and Harry, amazed, sees that she and (Y/n) are smiling, the very last thing he feels like doing.

"Brilliant," says Hermione.

"This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle," (Y/n) continues.

"A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever," Hermione adds.

"But so will we, won't we?" Harry asks nervously.

"Of course not," says Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper, and with our Potions expert."

"Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple," (Y/n) says, then pulls the vial of Fire Protection Potion out of her pocket. "And this. Who knows which fire this'll get us through."

"But how do we know which of the seven we can drink?" Harry asks his friends.

"Give us just a minute," Hermione says, exchanging a look with (Y/n).

The two read the paper several times. Then walk up and down the line of bottles, exchanging soft words and pointing to them. At last, Hermione claps her hands.

"Got it," (Y/n) says. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - towards the Stone."

Harry looks at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he says. "That's hardly one swallow."

They look at each other, (Y/n) fiddling with the top of the vial in her hand.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Harry asks and Hermione points to a rounded bottle at the end of the line.

(Y/n) walks over and uncorks her vial, studying it. It does look a lot like the smallest bottle's potion, (Y/n) thinks. She drains the little bottle in one gulp. She shivers, it felt like ice. She puts the empty bottle in her pocket and braces herself. She could see the black flames licking her body, but can't feel them. For a moment, all (Y/n) can see is nothing but dark fire, then, she's on the other side, in the last chamber.

There is already someone there - but it isn't Snape like the others though. It wasn't even Voldemort.

Word Count: 6766 words

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Untold Future 4

Clarity

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings:  Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Here is a gore free chapter. These will be very few and far between. 

Author’s Note: Yay! It’s Friday and here is another update! This chapter had been partially written well before I even finished Forgotten Alliance. Hell there are several chapters that are partially written. ANYWAYS! I do hope you guys enjoy this one!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

"We should talk about Hope's dreams." Klaus said as he walked into Elijah's room. He had barely taken note that his brother had been preoccupied with what he was currently reading. When he stopped in front of Elijah's bed, he realized what his brother had been doing. "You've found her contract."

Elijah looked up from the paragraph he had been reading. He was trying to read each line carefully, looking for anything and everything that would give him something to work with. But so far there was nothing standing out to him. 

"Only moments ago." Elijah said with a nod. "What did you see in Hope's dreams?" 

Klaus sighed. There was no easy way to tell his brother what he needed to. "Going into her dreams confirmed everything. I watched as my daughter ran into a building looking for her Aunt. When we found her," Klaus shook his head wanting to spare his brother from the details that he had seen. "While I would do anything to help you find away to get Elizabeth back, I'd rather not have my daughter having dreams of her."

Elijah looked off to the side. Part of him hoped that whatever dreams Hope had weren't of reality. That if anything they'd be glimpses of Elizabeth and nothing of the truth that Klaus had seen. After a moment, Elijah nodded. 

"It is what is best for your daughter." He looked over at Klaus. 

Klaus could easily see the hurt in Elijah. May it have been in his words or even the way he looked away to look at nothing in particular. His brother was in pain as well, even if he wasn't physically in pain. And here Klaus was making the decision to cut off the only way that Elijah may get a glimpse of Elizabeth. 

"If there was another way," Klaus shook his head. "I wouldn't be doing this. I fear for what Hope might see."

Elijah's jaw clenched at the words. The words had ignited something with in the bond. While Elizabeth may have closed off her side of things as much as she could, it was still there. Anger pulled through Elijah at the thought of what Klaus must have seen. 

Elijah ran his hand along his chin as he tried to calm the fire that was beginning to rage of control within him. His mate was being tortured and there was nothing he could do to save her. "I'll find another way. It may be time to follow clues elsewhere."

Klaus nodded his head in understanding. He knew that eventually his brother would decide to leave in search for Elizabeth. He just selfishly hoped it wouldn't be just days after they had been reunited. He placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. 

"You do what you need to to ensure Elizabeth's return home." Without another word, Klaus left the room. 

Elijah watched as his brother had walked out of the room before his eyes landed back on the contract in front of him. He lifted the page he had been reading before Klaus had come into the room. "Give me something, Elizabeth." He said to himself as he dived back into the contract. 

Hours had passed since Klaus had left the room and Elijah hadn't stopped going over the contract. Scattered beside him were the several pages that made up the contract. His eyes must have scanned the words repeatedly, looking for something, anything that would help him find Elizabeth. But Elizabeth had thought of everything. Every single detail Elijah believed would help in some way was mentioned in the contract. 

"That doesn't look like light reading." Rebekah said as she leaned against Elijah's door frame. "And by the looks of it you haven't slept a wink."

"How can one sleep while going through Elizabeth's contract?" Elijah asked as he never took his eyes off of the paper her was currently holding in his hand. 

Rebekah sighed as she entered his room. "By how intensely you are looking at it, am I right to assume there are no loopholes?" She asked as she sat the edge of the bed and picked up one of the pages. 

Elijah shook his head. "She thought of everything." He placed the page down and picked up another. "Every possible reason to ensure this deal would be made."

"That would explain why the witch can't tell us anything." She said shaking her head. "Can't Freya remove the compulsion from her?"

Reaching over, Elijah picked up another sheet before handing it to Rebekah. "We try anything and Jess will take her own life. Ask the wrong question and Jess will warn us."

Rebekah stared at Elijah in disbelief before she quickly read over the page. "Elizabeth all but insured her death at even the slightest mention of the spell tied to Elizabeth's humanity. What the bloody hell was she thinking when she wrote this?"

"My cure." Elijah said softly as he placed the last page down. "She included each of us in some form to ensure that she wouldn't back out from this. Malakai and Kol would become Jax's if she so much as hesitated to uphold this contract. We were to be left alone completely once she handed herself over."

Rebekah shook her head once more. "Hayley is going to be upset to know that we were all in there, including Hope."

"Hope isn't-" Elijah stopped himself for a moment as realization him. Elizabeth would never put Hope in harms way. Even if it was a way to ensure she'd go through with her plan. 

"Isn't what?" She asked looking at her brother confused. 

Without saying a word, Elijah stood from his spot and quickly made his way out of the room. An eyebrow raised on Rebekah's face as he did. Standing she followed her brother out of the room, hoping to get an answer. She followed all the way to Freya's room. 

Freya had been pouring over the spell book once more when her siblings had come rushing into her room. "Is everything okay?" 

She noticed how frantic Elijah looked in that moment. She could also tell he hadn't gotten any sleep since he had woken from his nightmare. Her eyes looked over at Rebekah who shrugged her shoulders. 

"Please tell me you haven't found or done the spell to keep Hope from Visitng Elizabeth." That had probably been the fast words had ever left his mouth.

"I haven't yet." Freya said as she looked between the two. "It needs to be done right before she goes to bed tonight. What's going on?"

Elijah took a seat across from her. "Elizabeth said she never intended for Hope to see her that way." Elijah began. "That to me means she had some intention for Hope to in fact see her."

"But doesn't that go against the rules Elizabeth spoke about?" Freya asked with a raised brow. 

"I was able to find the location of the contract. I've read every word of that document at least a dozen times. Not once was there a mention of the necklaces or even Hope. There was no mention of her interfering in any way. We were all mentioned expect for our niece." There was a slight excitement in his voice that his sisters could easily pick up on. 

"Hope is the loophole to the contract." Rebekah said looking at Elijah, finally realizing what he had.

"But how does this work when Elizabeth doesn't have the charm with her?" Freya asked holding Elizabeth's up.

"Maybe one-sided is all we need." Elijah said hopeful. "If Hope can open doors and at least look out windows, she may just be able to give us the insight we need. Even if I entered her dreams, this would give us the advantage Jax won't see coming."

Rebekah sighed. "Before we get too excited about this, need I remind you that there is still her parents we need to talk to about this?" She bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. "There is also something Veronica said that we might have to take into consideration."

"I'm sure we'd be able to convince Klaus and Hayley of this plan. She'd always have me or her parents to keep her from seeing things she shouldn't. And if this is what Elizabeth wanted to, they have to take that into consideration." Elijah said as he looked at Rebekah. "As for what you've overheard Veronica say is something that you should enlighten us on."

Rebekah braced herself for this one. She was hoping that she wouldn't have to tell Elijah and it would come from Veronica herself. "I overheard her tell Malakai that Elizabeth is going to be gone for three years.”

Elijah’s face fell at Rebekah’s words. “And how did she learn of this?”

“The letter Elizabeth wrote her,” Rebekah began. “Elizabeth told her that for three years she’d have to keep Malakai in check.”

Elijah shook his head. After the hope and excitement of possibly finding a way to save Elizabeth, it was shot down by the simple fact of time. “Where is Veronica now?”

“Out with Vincent.” Freya said with a nod. “She needed time away from the compound.”

Elijah stood from his seat. “When she returns, please ask her if I can borrow the letter for a few moments.”

“What are you going to do?” Freya asked as he began walking out of the room. 

“Freshen up a bit.” He said looking over his shoulder. “Then I’m going to see this warehouse Elizabeth used. Perhaps by the time I return, I’ll have some more information.”

_____

Elizabeth sat in the corner of her cell. Her back leaning right into the edge of it. Her eyes wandered around the cell and even past the cell door. Every detail of it her eyes had taken it in.

While she looked like a mess in that moment, she was healed. Maybe not back to her usual strength thanks to the lack of blood consumption, but she looked better than she had hours ago. Dirt caked her skin along with blood and sweat. How she would just enjoy a shower in that moment.

As her thoughts lingered on the thought of being cleaned, she picked up on the soft footsteps that approached her. Her eyebrow rose as she took the sound in. They were familiar to her ears and it almost caused a smirk to pull at her lips.

She hadn't moved from her spot even as they had come closer to her cell. Over the last several days, this is what she had been looking forward to. It wasn't the moments where she was being tortured or the fact that she had seen familiar faces while being tormented. It was this very vision that Jess had given her on her last day in New Orleans that she had been clinging on to that told her she was on the right track.

"Aunt Liz?" Hope's voice called out the moment her footsteps stopped a few feet away from her cell.

"One more down, kid." Elizabeth said without moving from her spot.

The moment Hope stepped in front of the cell, her eyes widened. She could see how differently her Aunt looked. May it have been the lack of blood or the fact she'd been tormented the last several days, this was the first time Hope actually saw her face.

Hope walked over to the bars and instantly walked through them. At first it startled her until she realized it wasn't a bad thing. She ran over to Elizabeth's side. But the moment she reached Elizabeth and tried to hug her, Hope couldn't feel her.

"It's not going to work that way." Elizabeth said as she watched her. "Don't have the necklace with me."

"How can I help?" Hope asked as she stepped back and sat down on the ground next to Elizabeth.

"You already are Hope." She said with a nod. "It's still early. I'm assuming you haven't woken up yet."

Hope shook her head. "I couldn't sleep last night."

"You were smart to bring your dad last night." Elizabeth offered as she adjusted herself in her spot.

"Dad didn't want Uncle Elijah to see you." She said with a nod of her head.

Elizabeth's eyes met Hopes. She could see the worry in the girls eyes. "Yeah, I don't know how well your Uncle would have taken seeing me like that. He's angry right now."

"How come you can feel his emotions, but Uncle Elijah doesnt?" Hope asked.

Elizabeth huffed a laugh. "Their clouded. I've got vervain, wolvesbane, and even good ol' human sedatives running through my veins half the time. The other half, it's Jess' spell. He doesn't need to feel what I'm feeling."

Hope looked around the cell. "Why did you leave us?"

"Even vampires keep their word." Elizabeth shrugged. "I made a deal with someone to get your Uncles cures for my bite. Now I have to keep my end of the deal."

"Can't you escape?" Hope wanted to find out as much as possible. She wasn't sure when she'd wake up or when they'd come and drag Elizabeth out of the room.

"That's against the rules, Hope. Plus, I'm too weak to make an escape right now. I need a lot more blood than what they are giving me." Elizabeth's mouth watered at the thought of blood. The veins under her eyes even made themselves known. The craving of blood was harder now. At Elizabeth's eyes, Hope got up and took a few steps back, causing Elizabeth to laugh. "I can't hurt you when you visit. This is just a dream."

Hope eyed her Aunt for a moment. "Like the spell Freya did."

"Something like that." Elizabeth shrugged. "Anything interesting going on at Home?"

Elizabeth figured if they were going to have these little visits, she'd make the best of them. She wanted to know what was going on just as much as Hope wanted to know where Elizabeth was to help her. There was only so much either of them could do.

"Mom and dad want to have Aunt Freya place a spell on me." She frowned.

"What spell?" Elizabeth asked.

"To stop me from seeing you." At that, Elizabeth sat up.

"Has your Uncle Elijah found the contract?" She shouldn't have asked but she needed to know.

"I don't know." She admitted.

Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling before looking back at Hope. "I'm gonna need you to wake up kid." Hope had already started shaking her head, but Elizabeth continued. "This is how you are going to help me. You're going to wake up and when you do, you are going to find your Aunt and tell her I said not to sever the link."

"What happens if they sever it?" Hope's eyes widened.

"I lose my loophole."

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