"P-Professor Quirrell?!" Cheyenne gasped while Harry gaped.
Quirrell gave them an eerily malicious smile, his face strangely calm. He wasn't twitching this time.
"Yes, it's me," he said softly, "I had wondered if I'd be meeting the two of you here."
The pair exchanged a look, "But we thought – Snape -"
"Severus?" Quirrell's uncharacteristically cold, sharp laugh sent a shiver down both their spines. "Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? It's quite useful having him swooping about like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would ever suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"
But Harry, who couldn't bring himself to accept this, just shook his head.
"But Snape tried to kill me! And he almost killed both of us!" he indicated Cheyenne and himself.
"Oh no, dear boy. I tried to kill you. Taking down Power was just a bonus." Quirrell snickered, then wrinkled his nose, "Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over in her rush to set Snape on fire at that Quidditch match. She unintentionally broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have had you...of course, I'd have managed it sooner if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."
This brought Harry up short, his eyes widening "Snape...was trying to save me...?"
"Of course." Quirrell responded coolly, "Why did you think he offered to referee your next match? He wanted to be sure I wouldn't try again. It's funny, really, he needn't have bothered with Dumbledore there." He laughed again, "Though Snape did make himself quite unpopular, didn't he, considering how all the other teachers thought his intention was to keep Gryffindor from winning...too bad all that effort was wasted, though, considering I'll be killing the two of you tonight."
Quirrell snapped his fingers, producing ropes out of thin air that wrapped themselves tight around Harry and Cheyenne.
"You're both far too nosy to live, Powter. For all I knew you two could have seen me coming to investigate what was guarding the Stone on Halloween."
"You were the one who let the troll in?" Harry frowned.
"Of course. I have a gift with trolls, as I'm sure you both saw with the one in the chamber back there?" He indicated back the way they'd come, "Unfortunately, while everyone else was preoccupied with finding it, Snape, who already had his suspicions, headed me off at the third floor – not only did my troll fail to beat the pair of you to death, but that three-headed mongrel couldn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."
Quirrell turned away from them then, and Harry and Cheyenne were surprised to see the Mirror of Erised standing behind him, "Now, just wait there quietly, Powter, while I examine this fascinating mirror..." Reaching out to touch its golden frame, Quirrell strode around it, examining it closely, "Of course, trust Dumbledore to come up with such a charm, using this mirror to hide the Stone..." He snorted, "But he's in London now and I'll be long gone by the time he returns."
Harry and Cheyenne glanced at one another, knowing they needed to do something; maybe if they kept Quirrell talking, they'd keep him from concentrating fully on the mirror.
"We saw you and Snape meet in the forest -" Harry blurted out while Cheyenne struggled against the ropes, hoping to loosen them, if just a little.
"Yes," Quirrell responded idly from behind the mirror, "He was onto me by that time, trying to gauge just out far I'd got. Of course, he'd suspected me all along, tried to frighten me -" He huffed, "He couldn't, of course, not when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..."
Quirrell strode back around the mirror and stared hungrily at his reflection.
"I can see the Stone...I'm presenting it to my master..." His nose scrunched angrily, "But where is it?"
Harry struggled against his ropes now, too, but they wouldn't budge. Cheyenne, meanwhile, searched for another topic of conversation to keep Quirrell's attention from the mirror.
"Snape really seems to hate Harry, though..."
"Oh, he does," Quirrell replied casually, as though this was an everyday conversation, "Oh heavens, he does. He did go to Hogwarts with both your fathers, didn't either of you know? Severus and James loathed one another, but that doesn't mean he wants Potter dead."
"But a few days ago, we heard you, sobbing -" Harry pointed out as Cheyenne nodded, "Right, we thought Snape was threatening you..."
A spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face for the first time, breaking through his mask of calm.
"There are times," he said slowly, "I find it difficult to follow my master's instructions – he is a great wizard, and I am weak -"
"You mean he was in the classroom with you?" Harry's eyes widened.
"He is with me wherever I go," Quirrell murmured, "I met him during my travels, when I was but a foolish young man full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I had been...there is no such thing as good or evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it...Since then, I've served him faithfully, although..." he sighed sadly, "There have been far too many times I've let him down...he's had to be very hard on me." He shuddered at the memory, "My lord does not forgive mistakes easily...when I failed to acquire the Stone from Gringotts, he was furious. He decided then he would need to keep a closer watch..."
Quirrell's voice trailed away while Harry and Cheyenne's minds wandered back to the day they'd visited Diagon Alley – how couldn't they have seen it? They'd met Quirrell that day in the Leaky Cauldron, shaken hands with him. Quirrell cursing under his breath made them jump.
"I don't understand, where did that old fool hide it? Is it inside the mirror?" His eyes narrowed, "Should I break it?"
Harry and Cheyenne looked at one another again, their minds racing. All they wanted now, above everything else, was to find the Stone before Quirrell did. If they were to look in the mirror now, they should figure out where Dumbledore had hidden it. The only problem was trying to look without cluing Quirrell into what they were doing.
Turning back to their professor, Harry tried to edge to the left to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing. The ropes around his ankles were too tight, however, and he was sent tumbling to the floor while Cheyenne winced. Quirrell, however, purposefully chose to ignore them as he continued to examine the mirror, murmuring to himself.
"What's the purpose of this mirror anyway? How does it work?" he sighed, "Help me master!"
To Harry and Cheyenne's horror, a high, cold voice answered, seeming to come from Quirrell himself.
"Use them...the children..."
Quirrell whirled on Harry and Cheyenne.
"Yes - Powter – come here."
With a simple clap of his hands, the ropes binding Harry and Cheyenne disappeared; she hurried to help him to his feet.
"Come here." Quirrell repeated, pointing at the ground, "Come look into this mirror and tell me what you see."
Nodding, the pair slowly approached him, readying themselves to lie. They couldn't let Quirrell know the truth even if they did see it.
Quirrell hovered behind them, bringing with him that strange scent that always emanated from his turban. Taking a deep breath, Harry and Cheyenne stepped up to the mirror.
Their reflections stared back at them with wide, terrified eyes, but then, after a moment, their expressions relaxed, and they smiled. Harry's reflection then inclined his head toward Cheyenne's, who put its hand in its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. Cheyenne swallowed as it winked at her and tucked the Stone back into its pocket – at the same moment, she could feel something heavy drop into her own. Heart racing, she touched her leg; she had the Stone.
"Well?" Quirrell asked, impatient, "What do you see?"
Meeting each other's eye through the mirror, the duo steadied themselves.
"We're shaking hands with Dumbledore." Harry said quickly.
"We've won the house cup for Gryffindor." Cheyenne added.
Quirrell cursed again.
"Get out of my way." He snarled, ushering them away; Harry took Cheyenne's hand as they shuffled aside, the Stone pressing into Cheyenne's leg as they looked at one another, wondering if they should make a break for it.
They'd barely walked five steps before that same high voice spoke up although Quirrell's lips weren't moving.
"They lie..."
"Powter!" Quirrell shouted, stopping them, "Come back here and tell me the truth! What did you just see?"
The voice spoke once more.
"Let me speak to them...face-to-face..."
Quirrell frowned, "But Master, you are not strong enough yet."
"I have enough strength...for this..."
Harry and Cheyenne stood, frozen to the spot, as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What...what was going on? They wondered vaguely as the garment fell away, leaving Quirrell's head looking strangely small, even as he turned on the spot.
A scream lodged in Cheyenne's throat at the sight of the horrible face staring at them from what should have been the back of Quirrell's head. With chalk white skin, it glared at them with glowing red eyes, it's slit nostrils flaring, reminding them eerily of a snake.
"Harry Potter...Cheyenne Power..." It whispered.
Cheyenne took a step back, tugging Harry's arm, but he couldn't move.
"You see what I have become?" The face continued, "I have been reduced to mere shadow and vapor...only given form when I can share another's body...but there are always those willing to let me into their hearts and minds...Unicorn blood has given me strength, these past weeks...you stumbled across Quirrell, faithfully drinking it for me in the forest...and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will finally have a body of my own once more...Now...Power...why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
He knew! In one move, Harry dropped Cheyenne's hand and moved in front of her, shielding her from the men.
"Don't be fools." The face snarled, "Better you save your own lives and join me...or I'm afraid you'll both meet the same end as your parents...They all died begging me for mercy..."
"YOU'RE A LIAR!" Harry and Cheyenne shot back.
Quirrell began walking backward, so Voldemort could continue speaking with them. His lips twisted up into a smile.
"How touching..." He hissed, "I did always value bravery...yes, both your parents were brave...I killed your mother first, afraid she stumbled across one of my followers," His cold eyes lingered on Cheyenne, "And then both your fathers; they both put up courageous fights...of course, your mother needn't have died..." His eyes slid to Harry now, "She tried to protect the two of you...Now, give me that Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."
"NEVER!" Harry reached back, shoving Cheyenne back toward the flaming door, "Run, Chey!"
"SEIZE THEM!" Voldemort screamed as she turned and sprinted up the stairs. Behind her, she heard Harry yell out in pain, and she skid to a stop, spinning around. Below, Quirrell stumbled back and hunched forward in pain, his hand cradled to his chest. From the top of the stairs, she watched as his hand began to blister and turn red.
"Seize them! SEIZE THEM!" Voldemort shrieked and Quirrell lunged forward again, knocking Harry off his feet and pinning him to the floor, his hands wrapped around his neck. Within seconds, Quirrell began to howl and yanked his hands back to stare at his burned palms, the skin red and raw.
"Master, I cannot hold him – my hands – my hands!"
"Then kill him, you fool, and be done with it!" Voldemort screeched.
As Quirrell raised a hand to perform the killing blow, Cheyenne, unable to leave her best friend, charged down the stairs and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, digging her nails into his skin, which immediately began to blister and turn red under her fingertips. Her vision went white as pain exploded through her cheek and she squeezed her eyes shut while Quirrell's screams filled her ears; she felt him stumble to his feet, thrashing. Without warning, his feet slipped on one of the stairs, sending them falling back; the air fled her lungs as they hit the cold stone floor, her body pinned beneath Quirrell's. He clawed at her arm, trying to dislodge her, but she tightened her grip around his neck, her head pounding.
Somewhere nearby, she could hear Harry yelling her name, Quirrell's screams reaching a pitch that hurt her eardrums, and Voldemort yelling for his subordinate to kill them. Then another voice joined the din, calling her and Harry's names.
As the pain in her head reached a climax and darkness started to close in around her, a hand wretched her arm from Quirrell's neck; her eyes burned, tears hot on her cheeks as her body collapsed, pulling her down into the depths.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
An uncomfortable throb in her temples was the first thing Cheyenne remembered feeling as she was coaxed back from unconsciousness; she groaned quietly to herself and tried to lift a hand to her head, but her arms were too heavy, which made her furrow her brow.
"Chey?" The familiar voice drew her attention, and she turned her head in the direction she'd heard it, "Cheyenne? Are you -?"
"Just a tad disorientated, I think." A gentle voice reassured as she inhaled through her nose and her eyes fluttered open. "Just give her a moment."
The rafters of the hospital wing swam into focus above her, warm sunlight turning the old wood a handsome golden brown as it flooded in through the tall windows that lined the walls. Blinking slowly, Cheyenne looked around, trying to get her bearings, before rolling her head to the right, where she found Harry staring at her from the bed next to hers. Seated between them was Albus Dumbledore.
"Professor...?" Cheyenne murmured, pulling herself into a seated position; she grimaced as her head throbbed with the movement, and reached up to rub her temple, "What...happened? And where's -?" Memories of the fight with Quirrell came flooding back and her eyes widened as she whipped her head back toward Dumbledore, "Sir, the Stone! It was Quirrell! He has the Stone!"
"Calm yourselves, you're both a little behind the times." Dumbledore put a reassuring hand on Cheyenne's shoulder as Harry shot upright in bed, frantic, "Quirrell doesn't have the Stone."
"Then who does?" Harry asked, "Sir, we -"
"Please, relax, Harry, Cheyenne," Dumbledore squeezed Cheyenne's shoulder, "If either of you get too worked up, Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."
Harry and Cheyenne glanced at one another before taking a couple of deep breaths as they looked around the hospital wing. They were each tucked into a single bed with white linen sheets, and, in a corner by Harry's bed was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.
"Tokens from all your friends and admirers," Dumbledore chuckled warmly, "What happened down in the dungeons between Professor Quirrell and the two of you is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe young Misters Fred and George Weasley did attempt to send you a toilet seat; no doubt they thought it'd amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, confiscated it for fear it wouldn't be very hygienic."
Cheyenne couldn't help but smile as Harry cocked his head, "How long were we out?"
"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be quite relieved you've both come round, they've been extremely worried."
"But sir, the Stone -" Harry began anxiously.
"I see neither of you is to be distracted." Dumbledore chuckled softly, "Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from Cheyenne's possession; though I arrived in time to prevent it, the pair of you appeared to be doing quite well on your own, if I do say so myself."
"You...?" Cheyenne looked at Dumbledore in surprise, "So, you got Hermione's letter?"
Dumbledore hummed, thoughtful, and shook his head, "No, I must have missed it. You see, I'd no sooner arrived in London than realized where I was needed was the place I'd just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off the pair of you."
"It was you." Harry said, astonished.
"I feared I was too late."
"You nearly were," Cheyenne whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at Harry, "We wouldn't have been able to hold him back from the Stone much longer -"
"It was not the Stone I was worried about Cheyenne, it was you – the effort you both put into protecting the Stone, and each other, nearly killed you and, for one terrible moment, I feared it might have. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Harry and Cheyenne echoed faintly, "But, what about your friend, Nicolas Flamel?"
"Oh, you both know about Nicolas?" Dumbledore beamed, delighted, "So you did do things properly, did you?" He chuckled, "Well, Nicolas and I had a chat shortly before all this and we've agreed destroying the Stone is our best option."
"But," Cheyenne bit her lip, "Doesn't that mean he and his wife will die?"
"Nicolas and Perenelle have enough Elixir left to set their affairs in proper order, but then, yes, they will die."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the amazement that flickered across Harry and Cheyenne's faces.
"To ones as young as you, I'm sure the notion is quite incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it's like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." He stroked his beard, "You know, in all honesty, the Stone is not as wonderous as one might think. Wealth and eternal life; two things most choose above all else, even if it's not what's best for them." He chuckled to himself, "But then humans have a strange knack for coveting what could be detrimental in the long run."
Cheyenne leaned back into her pillows, digesting this news while Dumbledore hummed to himself and watched the ceiling.
"Sir?" Harry ventured after a moment of silence, "Even with the Stone gone, won't Vol – oh, erm, I mean, You-Know-Who -"
"I think the two of you should call him Voldemort." Dumbledore interrupted gently, "You should always use the proper name for things; you only feed into the fear of something by not calling it by name."
Harry nodded, then grimaced as it made his head throb, "Yes, sir...well, Voldemort will look for other ways to return, won't he?"
Cheyenne straightened once more, "Yeah, Voldemort hasn't really gone, has he?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "No, Voldemort is not truly alive, so he cannot be killed, at least not easily. So, he's still out there somewhere, bidding his time, perhaps looking for another body to share. He left Quirrell to die...sadly, he shows his followers as much mercy as he does his enemies. But, nevertheless, never forget this: while you two might have momentarily delayed his return, just one person willing to fight a losing battle could be all it takes – of course, if Voldemort is delayed again, and again, why he might never return to power."
Harry and Cheyenne looked at one another thoughtfully for a moment before returning their attention to the headmaster, "Sir, there are a couple of other things we'd like to know..." Cheyenne murmured gently, "Would...would you be able to tell us the truth?"
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed, "Both a beautiful and terrible thing that should be treated with great caution. I shall answer your questions as best I can, unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I hope you'll forgive me. I shall not lie, though."
"Well..." Harry paused, thinking of how to word his question, "Voldemort told us he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing us. But..." he glanced at Cheyenne uneasily, "Why would he want to kill us in the first place?"
Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh.
"Alas, the first thing you ask I cannot answer. At least not for now." he gave Harry an apologetic look, "I will tell you, one day, but it's best if you put it out of your mind for now, Harry. When you're older, as overplayed as it might sound, and you're ready, you'll know."
Harry frowned, but nodded, knowing it wouldn't do to argue.
"Why couldn't Quirrell touch us back in the chamber?" Cheyenne chimed in.
Dumbledore hummed, "Lily died to protect the two of you, and if there's one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it's love. He didn't realize love as powerful as Lily's leaves its own mark. It doesn't leave a scar, nor any visible sign, but to have been loved as deeply as you two were, even long after the person who loved us has died, we can carry it with us forever. It's in both your skin. It's why Quirrell, so full of hatred, greed, and ambition, who shared his body and soul with Voldemort, could not touch either of you. It was agony for him to touch people marked by something so pure."
Dumbledore's attention had been caught by a bird perched on the windowsill outside, which gave Cheyenne the chance to look away and blow her nose. Harry, drying his own eyes, cleared his throat, "And the invisibility cloak – do you know who sent it to me?"
"Ah, yes, you see, James happened to leave that in my possession, and I thought you could find some use for it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "It's quite useful...as I recall, your fathers liked to use it to sneak food from the kitchens while they were here."
Cheyenne smiled quietly as Harry hummed, "There's one more thing..."
"Fire away." Dumbledore encouraged.
"Quirrell said Snape -"
"Professor Snape, Harry."
Harry tried to hide a scowl, "Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my dad. Is that true?"
"Well, yes, they did detest one another, kind of like you and Mr. Malfoy. But then, James did something Snape could never forgive."
Cheyenne cocked her head, "What did he do?"
"He saved his life."
"What?" Harry's eyes widened.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, staring out the window once more, "It's funny how people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in James' debt...I believe he worked so hard to protect Harry this year in an effort to make him and James even, so he could go back to hating his memory in peace..."
Harry frowned, trying to wrap his brain around this, though it made his head pound again and he had to stop. Cheyenne, meanwhile, chewed on her bottom lip once more.
"Sir, there's one more thing..."
"Just the one?" Dumbledore joked, earning a smile in return.
"The Stone...how did I get it out of the mirror?"
Dumbledore's eyes shone excitedly, "Ah, I was hoping you would ask me that; it was one of my more brilliant ideas, which, between you and I, is saying something. I enchanted the mirror so that whoever wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to obtain it. Those who wished to use the stone would only be able to see themselves making gold or drinking the Elixir of Life." he chuckled, "You know, my brain surprises even me at times...Now, I think that's enough questions," He stood and rounded Harry's bed, "I suggest the two of you get into these sweets. Ah!" he picked up one of the boxes, "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to stumble across a vomit flavored one, and I'm afraid it's made me lose my taste for them – of course, I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"
He smiled and popped one of the golden-brown beans into his mouth, only to cough and splutter, "Alas! Ear wax!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Madam Pomfrey, the nurse in charge of the hospital wing, was a kind but strict woman.
"Couldn't we get five minutes?" Cheyenne pled with her the following day.
"Absolutely not."
"You let Professor Dumbledore in..." Harry pointed out.
"He's our headmaster, it's different." Madam Pomfrey rebuffed, "You both need to rest."
"But we are resting, Madam Pomfrey." Cheyenne reminded her, "Look, we won't get out of bed."
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, hesitating, and Harry gave her a pleading look, "Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey."
She finally sighed, "Oh very well. But five minutes only."
Harry and Cheyenne exchanged a smile as she went to let Ron, Hermione, and Fred in.
"Harry!" Hermione's eyes sparkled with tears as Fred immediately plopped down on Cheyenne's bed, "Cheyenne, you're both okay!" Cheyenne gave them both a smile as she took Fred's hand, glad they hadn't tried to hug them as both their heads were still rather sore.
"You both had us worried for a minute there," Fred chuckled, stroking her knuckles with his thumb, "Even Dumbledore!"
"The whole school's talking about it!" Ron said, excited, "What really happened down there?"
This was one of those rare instances in which the truth was stranger and more exciting than any of the wild rumors. Harry and Cheyenne recounted everything; Quirrell, the mirror, the Stone, and Voldemort. Ron, Hermione, and Fred were a good audience; they gasped at all the right times, and when Harry told them what was really under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed and Fred bust up laughing.
"So, George and I were hitting Voldemort in the face with snowballs?" He laughed, his eyes glinting happily, "Wicked!"
Cheyenne giggled while Ron stared between them, wide-eyed, "So the Stone's just gone? Flamel's going to die?"
"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that – what did he say -?" Harry turned to Cheyenne, who hummed.
"'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'"
"I always thought he was off his rocker." Ron said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. Fred chuckled his agreement.
"So, what happened to the two of you?" Cheyenne looked at Ron and Hermione.
"Well, I got back without trouble," Hermione said, "It took a while, but I got Ron to come round – and on the way up to the owlery, we ran into Dumbledore in the entrance hall – he already knew what was going on – he asked 'Harry and Cheyenne've gone after him, haven't they?" and then bolted for the third floor."
"D'you think he meant for things to go this way?" Ron asked, thoughtful, "Sending Harry his father's cloak and everything?"
"Well," Hermione huffed, "If he did, which is terrible, the two of you could have died!"
"No, I don't think so," Cheyenne shook her head, "Dumbledore's a strange man, but I think he wanted to give Harry and I chance...he seems to know, more or less, everything that goes on in the school."
Harry nodded, "I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try and stop Quirrell, but instead of stopping us, he taught us enough to help us. It wasn't an accident Chey, and I figured out how the mirror worked." He looked at Cheyenne, who nodded in agreement, "Dumbledore must've thought we had the right to face Voldemort if we could..."
"Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," Fred chuckled, shaking his head, "Hey, listen, you've both got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points have been tallied and Slytherin won by a landslide. We got pulverized by Ravenclaw in the last Quidditch match, but you don't want to miss the food."
It was at that moment Madam Pomfrey returned.
"All right, you've had almost fifteen minutes," She ushered Ron, Hermione, and Fred away toward the hospital wing entrance; Fred managed to kiss Cheyenne's cheek before he got up, "Now get out!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
After a good night's sleep, both Harry and Cheyenne felt almost back to normal.
"Madam Pomfrey, do you reckon we could go to the feast?" Cheyenne asked as she straightened their candy boxes, "We don't want to miss it."
"Professor Dumbledore says you're allowed to," she sniffed, as though they were asking if they could jump back on a broom instead of just go to the end-of-year banquet. "Oh, you have another visitor."
"Great," Harry smiled, "Who is it?"
Hagrid slid through the door as Harry spoke; as usual when he was indoors, the giant looked far too big for his environment. He sat at the end of both Harry and Cheyenne's beds, took one look at the two of them, and burst into tears, surprising them.
"It's - all – my – ruddy – fault!" he sobbed, covering his face with his hands. "I told that evil git how ter get past Fluffy! It was the only thing he didn't know an' I told him! Both'a yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live like a Muggle!"
"Hagrid, it's okay..." Cheyenne frowned, worried, as she scooted to the end of the bed to put a reassuring hand on Hagrid's arm, hating to see him so grief-stricken, her heart heavy at the fat tears that rolled down his cheeks, "Even without your help, he'd have found out some other way..."
"She's right, Hagrid, this is Voldemort we're talking about." Harry agreed.
"Yeh still could've died!" Hagrid sobbed, "An' don' say the name!"
"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed, so loud and suddenly it made Hagrid stop crying, "Look Hagrid, we met him, and we're going to use his name." He sighed and gave him a reassuring smile, "But please, don't worry anymore, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone now, and he can't use it. Here," he reached for the piles of sweets and picked up one of the packs of Chocolate Frogs, "Have this, we've got loads."
Sniffling, Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand, "That reminds me, I got a couple'a presents for yeh."
"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" Cheyenne half joked, glad when Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.
"Nah, Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix 'em up, and I got Figg to send it via mail. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead – but, anyway, here..."
Hagrid handed each of them a handsome, leather-bound book; on one was stitched 'Potter', the other 'Power' in pretty gold thread. Cheyenne smiled and flipped hers' open to find a collection of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at her from every page were their parents.
"I sent owls out ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos they might've had...even had Arabella pull some out for you, Cheyenne. I know you didn't have any, Harry. D'yeh like 'em?"
Neither Harry nor Cheyenne could answer, but Hagrid understood.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Madam Pomfrey kept Harry and Cheyenne longer than they'd wanted, fussing and insisting on one final checkup before they left for the end-of-year feast, so the Great Hall was full by the time they arrived. It was covered in green and silver decorations to celebrate Slytherin's seven-year winning streak. Behind the High Table at the back of the hall hung a huge banner featuring the Slytherin serpent.
A hush fell on the hall as Harry and Cheyenne walked through the door, then everyone started talking loudly all at once. They quickly took a couple of seats between Hermione and Fred at the Gryffindor table and did their best to ignore the stares of the other students.
Fortunately for them, though, Dumbledore arrived shortly after, and the babble of the assembled school faded into silence.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, "And I'm afraid I must trouble you with an old man's babble before we can sink our teeth into this delicious food. Ah, what a year it has been! I hope your heads are all a little fuller than they were when you arrived...you have a whole summer head to get them nice and empty for next term...
"Now, if I recall, the house cup needs to be awarded, and the points stand as thus: In fourth place, with two hundred and fifty-two points, Gryffindor House; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw in second, with four hundred and twenty-six, and Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy-two."
The Slytherin table exploded with cheers and stomped their feet; from their seats, Harry and Cheyenne watched Malfoy bang his goblet enthusiastically on the table. It was sickening.
"Yes, well done, Slytherin." Dumbledore said calmly, "However, recent events must be taken into account."
The room went still and many of the Slytherins' smiles faded.
"Ahem." Dumbledore took a moment to clear his throat once more, "I have a few last-minute points I wish to award. Now, let me see...yes...
"First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."
Ron flushed purple, looking like a radish with a sunburn.
"...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."
The stars overhead quivered under the wave of cheers that rose from the Gryffindor table. Percy could be heard proudly telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Beat McGonagall's giant chess set!"
Slowly, the hall fell silent once more.
"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger – for the use of cool logic in the face of a raging inferno, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."
Hermione hid her face in her arms, possibly to hide her tears. Cheyenne rubbed her back as Gryffindors up and down celebrated the hundred points they'd just been awarded.
"Third, to Mr. Harry Potter..." Dumbledore continued; the room went completely silent, "...for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."
Another round of cheers swept the Gryffindor table, though Harry and Cheyenne looked at one another, wide-eyed. If they just got a little more, they could have a chance at the house cup! Dumbledore waited until it settled down before continuing.
"Fourth, to Miss Cheyenne Power," The room had now gone completely still, like everyone was holding their breath, "For unwavering loyalty and selflessness in the face of danger, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."
The sound that rose from the Gryffindor table was deafening as those who could do the math in their head and yell themselves hoarse at the same time knew Gryffindor was now at four hundred and seventy-two points. They were tied with Slytherin for the house cup! If Dumbledore had just given them one more point...
Dumbledore raised a hand and the room slowly fell silent once more.
"There are many kinds of courage," Dumbledore said with a smile, "And while it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to one's enemies, it can take just as much to stand up to our friends. Which is why I am pleased to award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
Anyone outside the Great Hall might have thought some kind of explosion had gone off as the combined cheers of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs rattled the rafters and shook the plates on each of the tables. Fred leapt from his chair and pulled Cheyenne up by the waist to spin her around while Harry, Ron, and Hermione cheered an ashen-faced Neville on as he got dogpiled by the rest of their housemates. Neville had never won a single point for Gryffindor before. While Fred planted a kiss on Cheyenne, Harry nudged Ron and nodded to Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned or horrified unless he'd just had the Full-Body Bind put on him.
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the thunderous applause, "we're in need of a change of decoration."
With a simple clap of his hands, green changed to scarlet, silver became gold, and the huge Slytherin serpent gave way to the towering Gryffindor lion. Snape, with a strained smile, shook Professor McGonagall's hand, and caught Harry's eye, confirming in that instant that his feelings toward him hadn't changed. This didn't matter to him. Life at Hogwarts would return to normal, or as normal as it could be, by the time the next school year started.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was the best evening of either Harry or Cheyenne's lives, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or even knocking out mountain trolls...they'd never forget that night.
The one thing they almost forgot, however, were the exam results that arrived the following day. To Harry and Ron's surprise, they both passed with good marks; Hermione, naturally, had the best grades of all the first years, while Cheyenne herself scored in the top five. Even Neville managed to scrap through, as his good Herbology mark made up for his abysmal Potions one. The group had hoped that Goyle, both stupid and mean in equal measure, might be thrown out, but he'd managed to pass, too, which was a shame, but, as Ron said, you can't have everything you want.
Before they knew it, they were cleaning out their wardrobes and packing up their trunks; Trevor was found hiding in a corner of the toilets; and notes were handed out to all the students reminding them not to use magic over the holidays, which Fred lamented he always hoped they'd forget; on their last day, Hagrid took the first years down to the fleet of boats and sailed them back across the lake to the Hogwarts Express. They chatted and laughed as the countryside whizzed by the windows, slowly becoming greener and tidier, sharing a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. As they neared the end of their journey, they exchanged their wizard robes for Muggle clothes; then they were pulling onto platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.
It took a while for them to get off the platform. An elderly guard was stationed by the ticket barrier, letting them file through the gate in twos and threes so they wouldn't attract too much attention. No need to scare the Muggles by bursting through a solid wall all at once.
"You guys have got to come and stay this summer," Ron said excitedly.
"Oh yeah, all three of you," Fred agreed, holding Cheyenne's hand, "We'll send you all owls."
"That'd be awesome," Cheyenne smiled, nodding, "Honestly, we'll need something to look forward to." People jostled them from all sides as they moved toward the gate back out into King's Cross station. Some of them called out:
"Bye, Harry! Bye, Cheyenne!"
"See you guys!"
"Still famous," Ron grinned at them as Fred chuckled. Harry shook his head.
"Not where we're going, trust me."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway first, with Fred and Cheyenne following.
"There they are, Mom, there, look!"
It was Ron and Fred's younger sister, Ginny. She was beaming, but not pointing toward her brothers.
"Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power!" She squealed, "Mom, look! I can see -"
"Shh, Ginny, it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley gently chided her as Cheyenne ran to hug Arabella, who stood with the mother and daughter.
"Did you have a good year, dear?" She asked once they'd pulled apart, looking her granddaughter up and down.
"It was amazing, nan." Cheyenne beamed, pulling Fred over to introduce him to Arabella. While the two shook hands, Cheyenne turned to Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh, thank you so much for the fudge and sweater, Mrs. Weasley. It was very thoughtful of you."
"Oh, it was nothing, dear, I'm glad you liked them." Mrs. Weasley beamed. Arabella gave the other woman a grateful look.
"It's still appreciated having someone else making Harry and Cheyenne's holidays special, so thank you." She said. "Speaking of holidays, I'll keep in touch with you, Molly, and we can arrange a time when the kids can stay over."
"That would be wonderful. You have our address, right?" Mrs. Weasley said; Arabella nodded, patting her handbag, "Yes, put it in the front pocket here. And you have ours as well."
While the women talked, Harry and Cheyenne turned to their friends, "So, we'll be seeing you soon."
"Hope you guys have a good holiday," Hermione smiled as Fred kissed Cheyenne's cheek, promising to write soon.
"Oh, we will." Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling, "I might have to see my aunt and uncle, but they don't know we aren't allowed to use magic at home. Chey and I're going to have fun with Dudley this summer."
"And lots of it, too." Cheyenne laughed.