Whew. 2nd Chapter finished. Hope you enjoy the ramblings of my mind. Also, no part of this is supposed to be a political current and JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Professor McGonagall POV

"Detention!" McGonagall shouted, towering over the two third year Slytherins, looking down upon them with a sharp eye, "Never again shall I see this happen. Do you understand?"

One of Slytherin's opened his mouth as if to speak, but back hesitated as he seemed to rethink his intentions, emotions warring in his gaze. He slammed his mouth closed, an expression of fear appearing on his face as he meekly nodded.

All would have been perfect if McGonagall's, finely – finely – honed senses picked up that he wasn't afraid of her. He was afraid of something else.

McGonagall scowled as she stepped forward, eyes locked on the student, growling, "Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

The third year seemed to realise he had been caught out, as he backed away slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he nervously swallowed.

"No?" His answer came slowly, questioning.

"Why," McGonagall frowned, "Do I believe your lying?"

The effect was immediate. The Slytherin's defence broke down immediately under her gaze. Hesitation gone, he started rambling, nervously wringing his hands as he withered slightly.

"It was Professor Snape! He was the one who told us not to listen to you." He shivered slightly at the memory, his companion mirroring him, "He told us that if we showed any fear in front of you and damage the reputation of Slytherin, he would – he would send us back to our parents by owl. Piece… by piece."

McGonagall scowled, of course it was the greasy bat. His iron grip over his Slytherins ensured that they were almost always out of reach. And now that she learnt he actively told them not to fear her. He would pay. To make it even worse, he dared to make them fear him more than her.

War had been declared.

"Go!" She barked, dismissing the third years with a curt wave of her hand, "Ensure that you are on time for your detention and do not disturb the Quidditch game."

The two children nodded rapidly, before speeding away as quickly as they could. They had learned their lesson. She was to be feared, not Snape.

Still glowering, she stalked towards the teacher's stands. The game would be starting soon, meaning she would need to ensure Jordan did nothing wrong. But more importantly, Snape would be there soon.

Climbing up the stairs, her expression turned even more sour as she saw Jordan fiddling with his microphone, casting spells as he manipulated its enchantments. Marching forward, she loomed over him, causing the dreadlocked boy to turn slowly, a nervous grin on his face.

"Mr Jordan, I believe that will no longer be necessary." McGonagall said imperiously, waving her wand as she got rid of his additions, "Now, I expect the game to begin soon and I want no problems. Do you understand?"

Jordan nodded silently, before turning back to the field. McGonagall sat next to him, casting her eyes over the field. It was a cloudy day, which wasn't all that surprising. The stands were filled to the brim, Gryffindor and Slytherin sitting as far away from each other as possible. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws were between them, some carrying a Gryffindor banner, other's Slytherin ones. Most had nothing.

The teachers were out in force today. Filius was sitting just behind her, he could hear him squeakily talking to Pomona. Septima and Aurora were conversing between themselves, intermittently joined by Trelawney. Hagrid sat to the side, his voice bubbling with excitement as he regaled Charity with tales of his newest pet, Quirinus sitting in front of them. McGonagall shuddered to hear more of them, the Cerberus, who she refused to call Fluffy, was bad enough already. However, she noticed only one thing. Excluding Albus, only one Professor wasn't here.

Snape.

Rage filled McGonagall's mind at the thought of that damned potions professor. She had always known he had the upper hand when it came to Slytherins, but to threaten them to not be afraid of her. That she could not accept.

But her rage was dampened when she noticed Professor Hooch signalling to Jordan to start the game, which he did excitedly.

"Witches and Wizards! Welcome to the first Inter-House Quidditch game of the year, between the Golden Gryffindors and the Slimy Slytherins!"

Almost lazily, McGonagall admonished the boy, who's love for quidditch seemed to overpower his fear for her, as he only nodded hastily and continued. She would have to fix that.

"Now, let's welcome the teams! On the side of the Slippery Snakes we have…"

McGonagall drowned out Jordan's voice after reprimanding him once again, instead sinking deep in her thoughts. But how could she fix it. While Albus's… whimsical ways ensured he was never fully aware of her actions, he would be if she started scaring them more.

"…Longbottom and Potter! The two youngest players on the field today, with Potter being the youngest seeker in a century! Let's see if they are up to the task to carry the Glorious Griffins!"

McGonagall cast her gaze to the two young wizards mentioned. They had glided over to join their teammates as they waited for the gaze to start. Under her sharp eyes, she looked for any sign of fear. But all she saw was a nervous excitement.

"The captains have shaken hand! The quaffle is about to be released… and off we go!"

Instantly, the teams broke apart, splitting up into their various roles as Wood and Bletchley raced back towards their respective hoops. Spinnet had grabbed the ball as soon as it released, passing it to Longbottom.

She hadn't been sure about allowing Longbottom to play when Bell fell sick. Him and Potter to be fair. If they were kille- disappeared, then she would be under investigation and that would ruin her image. Snape would almost assuredly use the chance to ruin her reputation, ensuring that the total fear most of the student body held towards her disappeared.

"Another score by Gryffindor! 40-30 to the Gallant Gryffindors."

After all, who would be afraid of a teacher that could do nothing to you, because one bad choice meant she could get kicked off the teaching staff. However, she had to take the risk. Potter flew just like his father, while Longbottom had supposedly been raised on the broom. And if they won, she could just imagine the sour look on Snape's face when she received the cup.

"Good afternoon Severus." Pomona's voice sounded from behind her, "Come to watch your snakes play?"

McGonagall's blood ran hot as she heard his answering grunt. He was here. She better goes give him a piece of her mind. But she clenched her chair tightly as she forced herself to continue sitting. She would not bow down to his petty tricks. She would not get into an argument with him in front of all these people.

"The seekers seem to be searching everywhere now as the game continues." Jordan said excitedly, his dreadlocks flying around as his head whirled around, trying to look at everything at once, "Who will get it?"

McGonagall was now clenching her teeth; her fingers were turning white as white-hot anger grew in her body. She was desperately flitting her eyes about, trying to catch sight of something that would distract her. However, her gaze stilled as she noticed two students sitting across from her. Two she had just seen, the Slytherins.

Her anger boiled over, roaring in her ears as she stood up, shocking Jordan and Filius as they stared at her incomprehensibly. Stalking towards Snape, she ignored the sudden gasps that was ringing through the stadium as her eyes locked onto Snape's own, black ones.

"Minerva." Snape greeted as she came to stand in front of him, "Do you need something?"

"Severus." She answered with a thin smile, "A few students came to me just before the game to talk about some instructions you had given them."

Snape's smirk never wavered as he absorbed the information, but McGonagall caught the slight shift in his position that belied his shock. He spoke once again, drawling, "And which students might this be?"

"Min- Minerva." Quirinus stuttered from in front of her, "You're blo- blocking my vi- view of th- the game."

McGonagall ignored him, narrowing her eyes as she stared straight intensely at the potion master, keeping her occlumency shields high, "I seemed to have forgotten their names. However, that is not important here. I believe that you need to… reconsider your instructions to them."

Snape raised a single eyebrow, as the other teachers around them looked at them with confused gazes, "I believe that my instructions to my pupils fall under my right as Slytherin Housemaster."

"As does the right to review those instructions fall under my role as Deputy Headmistress."

"Min-Minerva."

She hushed the Defence professor mid-speech, focused on Snape as he replied, his black eyes glinting with an evil light, "Very well, however, first I must call the Governors attention to the incident three years ago. I had only recently become aware of the true nature of it."

McGonagall stilled, her heart almost stopping at his words. How did he know about that? But she recovered quickly, her slight flinch occurring for only a split second.

But Snape had caught it, if his victorious smirk was any sign. Now that he knew about that, she couldn't do much about his instructions.

"Minerva!" Quirinus loudly said, breaking their stand-off, "You're in my view."

McGonagall blinked quietly, slightly shocked by the anger in the stuttering, who had just spoken clearly, man's voice. She had never seen him so irritated before, was quidditch truly that important to him. She had never noticed it before.

"Excuse me Quirinus." She tried to smile apologetically, "I'll just go sit down again."

Walking back to her seat, she sent one last glare to that irritating potions master. He may have won this one, however as she looked forward and saw Potter catching the snitch, she smiled.

She would win the war.

Neville POV

Neville Longbottom was not an idiot.

Oh no. You could call him slightly ignorant, unaware, naïve. But you could not call the Boy-Who-Lived an idiot.

In fact, if you asked him, he was pretty intelligent. He had picked up all the knowledge from the tutors, that his father had forced onto him, easily and quickly. His pronunciation was good, his wand movements better, but his understanding the best.

And that was why, on Christmas morning, with snowflakes lazily drifting down and a warm fire crackling in the fireplace, he instantly knew that trouble was afoot the moment he saw Harry and the Weasley twins together.

He narrowed his eyes, thumbing his wand. If they were planning something, it would be good to be on guard. Now, Harry had never tried to prank him before, or anyone for that matter. But even Neville had to admit something was wrong with him.

Harry was strange and there was nothing else about it. Just the other day, Neville had found him in the library, accosting Mrs Pince with requests for any books about witchers. Neville didn't even know what that was.

Or the time that Neville had found over a dozen books about dragons on Harry's trunk. And each one had a bookmark placed on the same dragon. The Scandinavian Shoutdrake. Which Neville once again didn't know that it even existed?

Then, there came Harry's excellence in magic. He was good, very good. Neville felt completely outclassed whenever he saw him in class, which should be impossible, or else he had wasted his childhood. But he quickly tried to force that emotion away every time, aware that at his core Harry wasn't such a bad guy. Whenever they talked, and Harry was being normal, he was pretty funny.

But Neville was still very wary of him.

So, Neville was understandably nervous when he saw Harry whispering with the Weasley twins, who were the only Weasleys who had stayed behind. He was waving his hands around bombastically as the identical twins nodded, listening intently.

But Neville decided to ignore them in favour of a much better option. Presents. There was a large Christmas tree next to the fireplace, with numerous stacks of presents under it. Neville smiled happily as he went to his own pile. Maybe his father had bought him that Screeching Quaffle he had asked for. It would be sure to shock the other chasers when they saw, or more likely, heard it.

Ripping open his presents, he was unsurprised to see the customary chocolates, some probably filled with love potions, cards, flowers, the annual pet bat and the endless amount of clothes from all of his well-wishers. Being the Boy Who Lived certainly had its perks and Neville had decided to that ignoring all the praise would get him nothing. So here he was, surrounded by presents from people he didn't know.

Then he finally got to the good gifts, from his friends and family, but as he opened the first one, his happiness was muted slightly. A defence book. Opening a few others, his smile fell slightly more as more about spells to protect himself and others like 'Every Spell A Wizard Needs to Know' or '50 Non-Violent Ways to Incapacitate Someone' appeared.

Neville put the books aside, his heart sinking slightly as he desperately tried to forget about them for now. All his life he had been touted as one of the greatest wizards of all time, he was the Defeater of Voldemort. The Boy-Who-Lived. He was their Protector Against the Dark.

So, each year he received books like this, ways to protect himself, ways to fight. Almost all of his presents were to make himself a better warrior, to make him the future Leader of the Light. His grandmother had hired tutors, to teach him to fight, to survive. To make him the best wizard.

But that wasn't what he wanted.

He hoped every year that it would change, that they would realise that he was just a normal boy who liked Herbology. He wanted to have a more peaceful life. He wanted to fulfil his dream. The one not even his father knew about.

Next to him, the ripping of more paper could be heard as Harry dug into his pile with gusto. It was much smaller than Neville's, only having four presents. But Harry seemed not to care. Neville watched silently as Harry opened his present from Hermione, letting out a whoop of excitement as he grabbed at the flying snitch.

Neville dragged his gaze away, back to his own pile. There was only one more present left. His father's. Neville always looked forward the most to his father's present. He was the only one who understood that Neville wanted to be normal, to be a simple student. He supported Neville's dream. The bracelet on his arm being the best gift Neville had ever gotten.

Ripping the paper off, he grinned at the sight of the quaffle lying before him. His father had gotten it! Neville grabbed it, throwing it up into the air, his grin widening into a smile as it screeched on its way down.

"What you got there?"

Fumbling the quaffle slightly, Neville turned embarrassedly to the curious emerald-eyed boy watching him curiously.

"A Screeching Quaffle." Neville replied, throwing it to his dormmate, "It has some special functions."

"Besides screeching?" Harry replied grinning as he tossed it up into the air.

"Much more." Neville replied, anticipation welling up inside him, "Exolvo."

Instantly, the quaffle obeyed his command, spraying a green goo all over Harry, who fell back, surprised. Neville had to hold onto the chair he was sitting off tightly, else he might fall off it from his convulsive laughter. But through his bleary eyes, he saw that Harry had recovered quickly.

"Cool!" His goo-covered dormmate crowed, anxiously inspecting the ball, ignoring the green goo covering him, "Who gave this to you?"

"My- father." Neville gasped, frantically trying to breathe as he sat up, trying to calm his shaking body.

"That's great." Harry said, giving the quaffle back to Neville, "What's the other thing he got you?"

"What other thing…" Neville's voice drowned out as he followed Harry's pointing finger. His eyes almost bulged as he saw a thin piece of paper resting among the ripped packaging. A thin piece of paper that he recognised.

Crouching down, he gingerly picked it up with his trembling fingers. Bringing it up to the light, it revealed a group of seventh year students all standing in front of the lake. They were celebrating, their graduation his father had once told him. His father was there, smile wide on his face, eager for what the future would bring.

But it was the girl next to him that Neville focused on. She had shoulder length hair that waved with her as she wrapped her arms around his father, pressing a kiss onto his cheek. She looked happy, content… awake.

His mother.

Neville bit back a sob as he tenderly ran a finger across his mother's face. Almost willing it to feel warm and alive. To give him a semblance of feeling her comforting warmth and love. To be different from the thin, cold woman sleeping on a bed in St. Mungo's.

Slowly, he turned around the picture, feeling a card there. On it, in a simple elegant scrawl stood a simple line.

For Her.

He crashed weakly onto the sofa, staring at those words unblinkingly. For her. The words his father said every October 31st, holding Neville's mother's wand in his hands as he revelled in his memories of her.

Of which Neville had none.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by the sound of a loud thump as something fell onto the floor. Looking up, Neville saw that Harry, with a big box of Every Flavour Beans at his feet, staring intently at a note in his hand as he held a silvery cloak in the other.

"What's wrong?" Neville croaked, almost grimacing at how terrible his voice sounded, so filled with sadness.

Harry took his time to respond, but once he did it rang through the air, his voice emanating a clear sense of wistfulness.

"It was my dad's."

Neville bowed his head at the words, absorbing them silently. He had forgotten that Harry's parents had both been killed. On the same night as his mother. For the same cause.

Anger roared loudly in his ears. Anger at the world. Anger at his mother not being healed. But most of his anger was aimed at one thing.

Voldemort. Voldemort and his followers who fought for the dark. Who killed hundreds to fulfil their cause.

Determination filled him as he stood up sharply, walking past the silent bespectacled boy longingly staring at the cloak in his hands. He looked out of the window, at the snow-covered mountains and the great forest beneath them.

Neville would become the greatest wizard of all time. He would practice, and fight. He would uncover forgotten magic. All for one thing.

For them.

Hermione POV

Hermione excitedly sat on the edge of her seat. It was time for her return to Hogwarts!

The Christmas Holidays had been great. Her parents had showered her after being apart for 3 months and to make it even better, she had gotten gifts! No not just any gifts. Gifts from a person she could possibly call a friend!

Hermione had been very confused when she had first seen them under the tree. Her parents' gift had been there, a new book, which she had already read twice by the end of the holiday. Then there had been the second from her grandparents. A nice pen, perfect for writing long essays.

But the other presents. From whom could they be? Well, Hermione had been delighted to find out that both had been from Harry. He had sent her a present! One had been a book about transfiguration she had remembered mentioning to him and the other… she still truly didn't know what it was.

It was a board game called Dungeons & Dragons. Hermione had never heard of it before, but on it, Harry had written a… confusing phrase.

Wisdom is the most important thing a wizard can have. Change my mind.

Hermione had thought long and hard about what Harry had meant through this, until, after a week she had finally figured it out.

Harry had enchanted the box! It wasn't just a normal board game, but he had done something to it and expected Hermione to be able to figure it out. And she had immediately jumped to figuring it out, she didn't want to lose the respect and trust of the only person who might be her friend.

So, as soon as she had realised this, she had started on her journey to figure it out. She had pored over her books, cast the only diagnostic spell she knew at it as soon as she steeped on the Express, multiple times. But she still had not succeeded.

The jolting of the carriage broke her concentration, as it came to stop. Excitedly, she climbed out, ready to get back to Hogwarts. But she immediately shrank back at the sight of the huge crowd of students walking towards Hogwarts. She had forgotten how many students there were and her short, sweet stint at home had made her unused to this.

She took a deep breath, summoning her courage as she timidly joined the outskirts of the crowd, finding herself next to two other first year girls. Their robes identified them as Slytherin, one had short brown hair. But the other, she had long, blond hair that flowed down over her shoulders.

Hermione recalled her to be Daphne Greengrass. She was Harry's partner in charms and together they seemed to always be the first to learn a spell. That was all she knew about her. Harry barely ever mentioned her and the one time he did, he oddly made sure he wasn't close to a chair.

"…music?" Greengrass's incredulous voice drifted over to her, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Her friend replied, "Although I still don't understand what this has to do with the Noctem de Virtute."

"Just something I had in mind. Do you think my mother would mind if I bought one for Astoria?"

Greengrass's friend snorted, Hermione's quick glance catching the barely controlled laughter on her face, "A Cerberus? Definitely."

Hermione hid a gasp at their conversation. Greengrass wanted to buy a Cerberus for her sister? More importantly, they actually existed?"

"Well, what are you going to get for the Noctem then?"

"I'll think of something later."

"Tracy, you know that until we're fourteen it might be the most important night of our lives."

"I know. I know. I'll think of something."

"Good."

Hermione walked away slightly, aware that she was entering dangerous territory here. She had been eavesdropping for too long. Greengrass and the other girl, who had been identified as Tracy Davis, would have noticed her before long. Best not to make that mistake again. The last time she had been caught…

She dragged her thoughts away from the topic, unwilling to think about her last few years at school. Her life had improved since then. She was a witch, capable of bending reality to her will with the simple muttering of a word or two. And she had a friend now.

"Hermione!"

Hermione snapped her head to face the origin of the voice, a small grin, forming. They had now entered the Great Hall and there, sitting up straight and waving at her with a large smile on his face, with his hair messily laying on his head, sat Harry.

She quickened her step, taking care not to bump into anyone, sliding into a seat opposite Harry, facing the other tables from her side of the hall.

"…How was your holiday?" Hermione asked nervously, wringing her hands underneath the table. Had she asked to quickly? Was it socially acceptable to do this? Hermione wanted to smash her face against the table in embarrassment.

"It was great." Harry responded, letting Hermione breathe out a soft sigh of relief, "Thanks for your present. I love the beans."

Hermione smiled happily. She had thought long and hard about the present she wanted to give to Harry. She had initially wanted to give him a book, but after remembering Nancy Smith's reaction in year 5, she had decided not to. In the end she had settled on Bertie Blotts Every Flavour Beans after hearing it was a simple and normal Christmas gift that everyone liked.

"That's great." Hermione gushed, before wincing as she realised Harry would probably be sad if she didn't talk about his present immediately, "Your present was great too."

Harry smiled, "Good. Do you agree with what I wrote on it?"

"Yes." Hermione quickly replied, "Wisdom definitely is. I've spent days thinking on it. I bought it with me."

"Then when you want to, you should come talk to me about it. If you've figured everything out, we can even organise something."

"I'll figure it out." Hermione promised, resolve filling her, she would figure it out. No question about could. She wouldn't disappoint Harry.

Harry smiled at her supportively. But before anyone of them could speak, they were cut off by the food that suddenly appeared in front of them. They had missed the Headmaster's speech. Harry and everyone else around her immediately dug into their food.

Ron Weasley was to her left, food piling up on his plate almost continuously, but disappearing just as fast. Dean Thomas was opposite him, next to Harry, talking to Seamus Finnigan, regaling him about the pub fight he had witnessed on his holiday in Ireland.

"So, Harry." Lavender started, next to Hermione, "Anything interesting happen in the castle while we were gone?"

"Except for the Weasley Twins spraying all the teachers except McGonagall red and white. Not much. I spent most of my time in the library or flying outside, might have seen as Skeletal Horse. Just proves that Alduin existed."

With a practiced ease, everyone listening brushed off Harry's strange comments, sharing a laugh at the Weasley twins' antics, which Hermione joined quietly, before immediately stopping, was her voice too loud?

"Anything Harry forgot to tell us, Neville?" Lavender probed the silent boy sitting next to Harry. His eyes had dark circles around them, but as Hermione's eyes met his for a short moment, she was slightly taken aback by the fiery determination in them.

"Nothing much." Neville said, before falling silent once again.

"So, a normal Christmas here then." Lavender smiled, before turning to face Hermione, who was shocked by the sudden attention.

"What about you Hermione?"

"Christmas was fine." Hermione rushed quickly, the words coming out almost unintelligible. She forced herself to slow down, "Enjoyed the time with my family."

Fretfully, she watched as Lavender blinked slightly, before nodding and turning around to talk to Parvati.

Hermione wanted to cry at her reaction. Why had she done that. Now, she had made herself look even more different and weird to Lavender and the rest of her housemates.

All around her, everyone was content. Conversations was flowing easily as stories about the holidays was shared. Lavender and Parvati were talking quietly, probably about her, Hermione wallowed. Forcing herself to shoot a quick glance at Harry, she saw that he, Seamus and Dean were in an animated discussion about the effectiveness of using Wingardium Leviosa to create a flying city.

However, Hermione took no part in it. If she joined them, she felt like she would be interrupting. No, instead she would mirror the red-haired boy shoving food into his mouth. Reaching out quickly, she grabbed random bits of food. She would look picky if she took long to choose.

Across from her, Harry flashed a crazed smile towards her, making Hermione grin back hesitantly. She stabbed her fork into her plate, bringing the food up to her mouth. Biting into it, she swallowed quickly as she opened her mouth to start a conversation with Harry.

Or she would have if she hadn't realised what she was eating.

Coughing, Hermione forced herself not to throw up, instead she focused on swallowing it. As soon as she did, she leaned forward, her mouth burning with the horrible taste. Frantically, she grabbed the closest glass of pumpkin juice, downing it.

"Eh… Hermione." Lavender hesitantly said, "That's mine."

Hermione froze mid-gulp, panic flashing through her, before she swallowed as softly as she could, though it seemed to resonate over the hall. She handed it back tentatively, flashing an apologetic smile. Lavender waved it off, smiling back, before turning to face Parvati again.

Hermione shrunk down, her cheeks burning red, wishing she could disappear, but most importantly glaring at the food on her plate.

She wanted Brussel Sprouts to disappear.

Hagrid POV

Hagrid loved the forbidden forest. He loved all the interesting and peaceful animals that lived there. In there, it must be a utopia. It must be a place of happiness and joy, where all creatures, big and small, lived in harmony.

Aragog lived there. Bane and his herd called the forest home. Tubby was there as well. All of Hagrid's favourite creatures, and his best friends were there. Which was why, Hagrid enjoyed taking the detentions in the Forbidden Forest.

For him it was the perfect time to teach the students about the wonders of the forest and its many magical creatures. It was one thing that he found very upsetting with the wizard schooling system. They taught that many magical creatures were dangerous-like Aragog! How could anyone find such a peaceful friend of his dangerous?

Aragog, like Fluffy and Tubby, were simply misunderstood.

So, Hagrid took it upon himself to show the students how these 'beasts' actually are, how peaceful and helpful they were. Which bought them to the present situation.

"Hagrid." Aragog's heavy, raspy voice slithered from the shadows as his many eyes slinked into the light, the only part of him that Hagrid could see, "Have you bought me food?"

Hagrid snorted. Just like Aragog to joke like that. Wagging his finger, he dragged the two frozen stiff students he was with forward, "Now, don't scare them like that Ara. This is Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. I wanted them to meet you."

"…Sir?" Neville's questioning voice spoke softly, "Is it too late to switch with the Weasleys?"

Hagrid grinned at his words. The Weasley twins were some of his favourite students and he made sure to bring them to meet a new creature every time they were with him. However, this time, they had, instead, offered to let Harry and Neville go alone, choosing to stay with McGonagall instead.

Hagrid's heart warmed at the thought. He knew that they only wanted Harry and Neville to have some personal tutoring and likely thought that they would interfere in his teachings. The next time they had detention he would bring them to meet two creatures as a reward instead of one.

And that detention would come soon. He was sure. This was their second in a week and from what Hagrid had gathered, this one had involved fireworks, an exploding ink quell – coupled with a hair removal potion – and a large amount of firewhiskey. And, the two first years with Hagrid tonight. They had protested their punishment greatly, sticking to their argument of 'Right place, completely wrong time' quite closely.

"No ne'd to worry Neville." Hagrid said boisterously, forcing the two even further forwards, closer to Aragog, "Ara won't hurt you. He's a little intimidating, but he wouldn't hurt a fly."

With perfect timing, Aragog hissed in agreement, before Hagrid swelled in happiness as he watched one of Aragog's children jump from the treetops, landing on Neville's shoulders to play with him.

However, his happiness dulled slightly at the sharp shriek the boy let out, frantically waving off the spider – which Hagrid thought was incredibly rude. But he knew he couldn't blame it on Neville. It was all due to the unfair education system, what else could it be?

"Hagrid." Aragog started, "I found one of the unicorns you were looking for. Still alive"

Hagrid frowned at the news. Another one? This was the fourth this year, not sounding like much, but disastrous to the forest's unicorn population. He would need to find the source of this soon, or else the herd might move to another forest. But maybe he had time to save this one.

"Where is it?" He asked, before waving to the boys, "Come 'ere."

However, before the two first years could move, Aragog cut in quickly.

"Why not let them stay with us? I'm sure my children would love to meat them. To fl- play with them."

Hagrid shook his head, Aragog's speech was acting up again, probably because the only person he spoke to was Hagrid, none of his children had learned how to speak…

Hagrid excitedly looked at the two first years, a brilliant idea flashing through his mind.

"Boys." He started, drawing their attention, "I think what Aragog's saying is a brilliant idea. Why don't you go and play with his childr'n and try to teach them 'ow to speak, eh?"

Neville's face seemed to pale even more; he sorta looked like that vampire over in Bristol, he mused. However, Hagrid understood his fear. He must be afraid that he would fail to fulfil Hagrid's request and it scared the death out of him. Neville truly was a helpful person, a good Boy-Who-Lived. Which was why he was perfect for the job.

Neville opened his mouth to speak, likely to express his fear of failure, before he was cut off by Harry who strode forward. His face the total opposite of Neville's. Instead of fear-filled eyes and pale skin, Harry's seemed to be filled with life. Filled with confidence.

"We accept your quest." He announced formally, filling Hagrid up with joy at the excitement glowing in his voice. Here was a good student. One that seemed to share Hagrid's love for the cute and harmless creatures like Aragog.

"Good." Hagrid nodded, ruffling Harry's hair with his gigantic hand, "Then I'll see ye later."

Turning to Aragog, he was greeted with one of the medium sized – though still tall – spiders waiting for him. Sending another quick smile to Aragog and the first years, he followed the spider into the undergrowth.

Soon, they arrived at the fallen unicorn. It was lying next to a pool of water, that was filled with a pearly golden sheen. A very familiar sheen. Unicorn blood. Hagrid scowled as he saw the still bleeding wound on the unicorn's neck.

"Hagrid."

From the side, a very familiar voice greeted him. Turning Hagrid managed a quick smile towards the powerful Centaur standing there.

"Bane."

"I see you found another one."

"Ye." Hagrid grimaced, kneeling next to the fallen unicorn, "Aragog showed me."

"Ah, yes." Bane's voice came from the side, filled with distaste, "The spider."

"Still angry at him?" Hagrid questioned, trying to hide his flinch at the oozing black liquid that flowed out of the Unicorn's mouth as it struggled to breathe.

"He refuses to join the council."

"ave you tried talking to him?"

"He cannot see the truth." Bane said, coming to stand next to Hagrid, "He does not understand the truth. He still believes that Arachnomantula's are the greatest species in existence. He refused to cooperate in creating the Republic."

"What 'bout the Mermen."

"They have finally accepted the mantra and started sharing their resources. They have inscribed it into their village stone."

"Good." Hagrid grunted, as he crumbled some herbs he grabbed from his pocket, pushing it into the Unicorn's wound, causing it to whinny in pain, before slowly, its eyes closed, and its harsh breathing evened out.

"It wasn't the Fae." Bane grunted as he pawed the ground angrily, "Ystral has forbidden anyone from entering the forest since the first attack and my scouts have found no tracks of anyone that snuck in."

"Then 'ho could it be?" The half-giant questioned, as he stood up, dusting his coat off slightly.

"The Republic has been unable to find anything." Bane replied as one of the centaurs from his herd entered the clearing, almost invisible under the darkness of the trees. Hagrid did not recognise him.

"And I haven't seen anything." Hagrid scowled. To hurt a unicorn. It was one of the worst things that could be done. Luckily, none of the unicorns had died so far, their innate magic able to keep them alive long enough for someone to call Hagrid or the Republic.

But, shaking his head, he decided that he could think of it later. For now, he had to go back to the two little first years. It was time to get them back to Hogwarts, or else McGonagall would have his hide. The powerful half-giant trembled slightly at the idea of being under the Deputy Headmistress's gaze and wrath. It was not an experience that many survived. At least not whole.

Walking back to the clearing, he noticed a clutch of small spiders lying on the floor, their legs seemingly broken as they struggled to stand. Hagrid frowned in worry. Were the spiders being attacked as well? He knew they would be fine, Arachnomantula's had strong healing talents. But even they couldn't heal from death.

His worry grew only larger as he approached the clearing. The trees had burn marks on them, Hagrid's hairs were rising up slightly, the air seemed to almost crackle with intensity. Even more spiders laid on the ground, some evidently burned, other's with broken legs. How had he missed this the first time?

Hagrid quickly realised the answer. It was the unicorn. In his worry to find the unicorn and save it, he had missed all of this destruction and the numerous injuries these spiders had. Hagrid only had himself to blame. But everything should be fine if Aragog had not mentioned anything.

Entering the clearing, Hagrid was almost blinded by a flash of sharp, bright, light from the opposite end of the clearing. Blinking the black spots away, he looked to the source of the flash. But his mind froze when he saw the sight of Neville Longbottom flailing around, covered in small spiders, with larger spiders charging at him.

Were they? Were they?

Playing?

Hagrid broke out into a grin at the sight before him. How wonderful. He knew that leaving the first years here would turn out well. It wasn't language, but it may be even better. He felt immensely proud that he had shown another person how gentle and fun-loving the Acromantula are.

His master plan had a great start. Now, he had help in convincing other's that the education system was inadequate and biased. This was the start of a revolution; they now had much work to do.

Regrettably, that meant getting Neville back to school and breaking up this joyous occasion.

"Let's go, Nev'lle." He grunted, beaming at the pale, sweating boy. He must have truly played with Aragog's kin, tried his hardest to fit in. It was truly admirable.

Dragging the trembling boy away – he must be filled with energy – he spied Harry behind one of the trees, stuffing something into a backpack that Hagrid hadn't even noticed he had. Briefly, he thought he spied a hairy leg in the pack, before it was pushed in, but he waved the though away. He had probably imagined it.

"Back to 'ogwarts." Hagrid said, settling a giant hand on the first year's shoulder, who nodded quickly as he shouldered his bag.

Hagrid turned to Aragog, who was watching him from his customary tree, "See ya later Ara."

"Goodbye Hagrid." Aragog hissed, his many eyes blinking simultaneously, "Please bring back the children again. My brood would love to… see them again. They are very lonely."

Hagrid smiled sympathetically, "Sure. And as soon as Fluffy is done guarding the Philosopher's stone, I'll bring him to see you as well."

Clapping his giant hands, Hagrid excitedly turned to the two first years, "Let's go. We have a lot to do."

Then, with an exuberant skip in his step, he led them out of the clearing. All the while shouting one thing to the treetops.

"To the revolution!"

Daphne POV

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, willing the wood-panelled roof of her bed to appear before her. For the green curtains that shrouded her in a comfortable darkness to appear.

It didn't.

Once again, the sight of three sleeping, drooling, gigantic, drooling, menacing and drooling heads filled her vision. And now, instead of her being close to the door, where she could escape, she stood next to one of its monstrous paws.

Her fear grew even larger at the fact that her life now lay in the hands of someone who shouldn't even be close to her.

Neville Longbottom.

Somehow, her life – Daphne Greengrass's life - had ended up in the Boy-Who-Lived's hands. Even now it made very little sense to Daphne. But unfortunately, she knew why.

Potter.

Once again it was Potter.

Daphne had started seeing a pattern here. Her first charms class, she gets paired with Potter, somehow accessing a branch of magic that she had never heard of before. Magic based on intent alone, and not on words and wand motions.

Then came her first meeting with the giant, drooling dog of death. Once again, Potter's fault. Why had he looked so suspicious when walking down the hallway. Of course she would investigate.

But now, came this and she winced at the memory of how she was bought into this.

Flashback Start

"Get back here Potter!" She screamed as she ran after the fleeing boy, her blonde hair streaming behind her as she pushed herself to go faster. But she quickly stopped herself, aware that it was currently after midnight and if they were caught…

Her mother would hear of it.

Daphne's shiver almost caused her to misstep, making her stumble slightly as she regained her balance, almost tipping over as she continued running. But her determination drove her. Potter had done it now. He had dared to do it.

He had ruined her hair.

Even now, she wanted to sob at the sight of her beautiful blonde hair, the envy of all, the pride of her life, matted black with crushed berries.

Potter would pay for this. Him and the Weasley Twins. Oh, just because she chased after Potter, didn't mean she had forgotten about their transgressions against mankind. Against her. No. She was a Greengrass. Even more, she was Daphne Greengrass.

They would pay.

And with that thought flying through her mind, Daphne launched herself forward, magic blasting out from her wand and propelling herself forward. Flying through the crisp air, past the very familiar columns, engraved elegantly with spirals and twists.

She slammed into the accused, sending him flying straight into a door, that had been opened just a crack. Also, a very familiar door. One that Daphne had engrained in her mind to never walk close to again. One that made her face pale.

Together, they flew through the door, causing it to slam against the wall. She landed on top of Potter, twisted together in some weird knot that looked like a Lovegood had designed it. She struggled to free herself, pushing Potter away as quickly as she could and jumping to her feet.

Only to be met with nine large, luminous orbs staring straight at her.

The Cerberus's eyes were blinking, an emotion that Daphne often saw in her peers present in them. Confusion. Well, she had to admit. It probably wasn't every day that two children flew into its home, offering it a quick snack.

But slowly the confusion cleared away, the hunger that replaced it causing Daphne to gulp slightly. The Cerberus rose to its full height. Exuding overwhelming power and majesty. It's mouths opening to reveal glistening fangs. It was the King here. The King of the Bea-

Suddenly, from behind her, a clear note of music sounded, ringing in the air and echoing off the walls. It was hoarse and lonely, carrying with it a sense of desolation and despair. It seemed to strike at Daphne's soul, causing her and the Cerberus to blink. The beast's eyes shot to focus on a point next to her.

Slowly, she turned around slightly, making sure to keep the Cerberus in her sights. But as soon as she saw where the music came from, all thought of her impending death disappeared and were replaced with one simple raw thought.

What?

There, standing just in front of the open doorway, stood Neville Longbottom. And he was playing the violin. He seemed so at ease with the instrument, his fingers deftly flying across the strings, as he bought his bow to the strings with a simple, but elegant movement.

He was good. Very good.

Yet, she whirled around, wand flying to her hand as she aimed it at the Cerberus, as its heads came flying down, teeth bared as it approached with an unlicensed attempt to kill.

However, she paused as it hit the floor instead of eating her, its large, hungry eyes closing and its tongues lying outside its mouths.

It was asleep.

Flashback End

So, once again mourning her ruined hair, she sunk to her haunches next to one of its paws, ever aware of the warm breath washing over her. On the other side, Potter grabbed onto the paw as well.

This idea was utterly stupid. So of course, the two Gryffindorks had come up with it.

She had noticed it first. A large, ornate harp standing in the shadows to the side. Potter had noticed her surprise and had abandoned inspecting the Cerberus's teeth to follow her gaze. Longbottom then did the same.

When they had seen it. Daphne and Potter instantly exchanged looks. This had not been here last time. And remembering the opened door, Daphne's heart had once again sunk. They weren't the only ones who had been there recently.

Then, outside the room, they had flung into a quick, hushed debate. Daphne had been on the side that the Professors should be told first, that they were the best equipped to handle this. But, the two idiots who acted like wizards, decided that they would go on without her if she called them.

So, here she was. Picking up a gigantic monster's paw, so they could enter the trapdoor underneath it. Well… She would be lying if she said she wasn't curious to see what was there.

No, Daphne. You are here to ensure that the other two don't kill themselves by jumping in front of a spell or a deadly creature. That is the only reason why…

"Greengrass." Potter hissed from across her, straining as he carried the paw, "Help me."

Quickly, Daphne helped pull the paw away, and gently drop it on the floor, ignoring the blood rushing to her face. Longbottom was still playing his violin, which he refused to say where he got it from.

Opening up the trapdoor, slowly and watching the sleeping beast intently, Daphne motioned to Longbottom to come over. Peering inside the trapdoor, all she could see was inky black darkness. She wanted to conjure some light but hesitated at doing so and risking the Cerberus waking. Longbottom may react to slowly to save her.

Her thoughts were torn away from the darkness, as Potter hopped down, a gleeful smile spreading across his face, which Daphne had to admit looked slightly menacing.

Looking over to Longbottom, who was also staring down warily, she gave a quick glare – couldn't let them think she was actually a bit afraid what lay in wait for them – and jumped down. She would never let anyone in Slytherin hear about this. She should be ashamed, but she couldn't let Potter beat her, now could she?

Falling through the inky blackness, she was pleasantly surprised when she landed quickly, less so by the hard and knotty ground. Everything was still dark, lifting her hand up, she could barely make it out.

Sitting up, she reached for her wand. It should be safe for her to generate some light now. However, she froze when she felt her hand stuck in a vice like grip. Tugging her hand, her blood grew colder as she felt something run across her other hand.

Jerking her free hand away, holding it against herself, she felt another thing slither against her legs, before suddenly coiling around it and jerking her forwards.

Yet, what should have caused her to cry out in fear, instead made her grin. She knew what this was. Devil's Snare.

She had dealt with this many times as a child, in her family's personal greenhouse and at the herbology classes she was forced to take when she was younger. And now. That knowledge could for once be useful.

Still grinning, she stilled, even holding her breath, forcing her body to completely still as she felt her other leg being trapped.

It was only a matter of time now. She was now completely still, laying against the Devil's Snare, waiting for her to sink through. She only hoped Longbottom and Potter knew how to deal with this as well. Wait, did she want Potter to know?

But she tensed as she felt something rub along her chest, coiling around it as if preparing for… something.

In a flash, Daphne reached for her wand, pure anger flowing through her as the Devil's Snare pulled, forcing the breath out of her. But she didn't care. For once, she had found some use for those lesson's as a child, but it had not worked. They were still completely useless.

However, that was not the worst thing. The Devil's Snare was planning to kill her. A plant was trying to kill her, to extinguish the life of the Greatest Witch to ever live. Oh, it would pay. It would understand the meaning of pain.

Focusing her mind, she poured her anger through her wand, imagining only one thing in her mind. Willing it to form.

Fire.

She wanted Fire.

It happened in an instant. The night became day, as a maelstrom of fire erupted from her, twisting around the shrieking Devil's Snare as it ate away at the parasitic plant.

Falling to the floor, she smiled as she landed, climbing to her feet. Eyes glued to the inferno in front of her. Yet, she felt no heat from the fire. Only joy. And definitely pride. Also, tiredness. Couldn't forget that.

"I was about to do that, you know."

Daphne scowled as she looked at Potter. Who was standing to the side, watching her with that gleeful smile still stuck on his face.

"You survived." She said distastefully, causing Potter's grin to morph into a mocking one.

"Couldn't exactly let you go on alone. Now could I, Little Viper?"

Daphne harrumphed, turning her nose up to his mocking, before noticing the lying against the wall, illuminated only by the flickering firelight, was Neville Longbottom.

"Oh, he's unconscious." Potter explained, noticing her confusion, "Got knocked out when he landed badly next to me."

"Then wake him up, Potter." Daphne said, gracefully walking to the door close to her, well as gracefully as she could, as she could not shake the feeling of tiredness plaguing her bones, "I'll see what's up ahead."

"Yes, your Majesty." Potter sarcastically replied, as he kneeled next to her, "But if you notice anything that looks valuable, tell me."

Ignoring the emerald-eyed boy, she strode through the door, wand at the ready. It could be another magical beast. Or another murderous plant. Or…

A pair of Goblins, sitting on one side of a large ornate desk, like the one in her father's meeting room, arguing as they leafed through a stack of paper in front of her. Next to them, the headless bodies of two more goblins lay, with a bloodstained axe leaning on the table close to them.

"Ahh. Another one." One of the Goblins said as she approached them, "Must be our lucky night eh Roggof."

"Yes, my axe-mate. It must be." The other Goblin, licked its jagged teeth hungrily, "Welcome human to the next trial."

"And the hardest one." The other cut in, standing on its chair, "Your challenge is one of extreme difficulty, requiring inhuman cunning and intelligence. It is to…"

Slamming it's hand down on the table, causing it to crack slightly, it leaned forward and spoke dangerously, "Write a contract with us that is advantageous."

"Which is impossible." The other one smiled, before shooting a glare at the two bodies lying next to them, "Unless you are unworthy of the Goblin name that is."

"Now, Human. Do you accept?"

Smiling, Daphne stepped forward, lightly sitting on the high-backed chair opposite the two Goblins, grateful for the chance to rest. She was Daphne Greengrass. She would show them what a true negotiator did. And never let it be said that Daphne Greengrass was cruel.

For she would make it quick.

Neville POV

Waking up to Harry Potter's frowning face filling your sight would make any person confused.

So, needless to say Neville was confused.

"You're awake." Harry's face lit up, the frown disappearing in an instant, "Good. Now we can go."

"…Where are we again." Neville grumbled, as he grabbed Harry's offered hand, using it to pull himself up, still blinking away the black spots in his vision.

"The room under the Cerberus." Harry replied, motioning up above them, "You knocked yourself out on the Devil's Snare. Remember?"

Neville flushed red as the memory came back to him. Including the part where he played the violin just before. It seemed his secret was out. However, his eyebrows almost disappeared off his forehead, and all thoughts of his secret fell away, as he looked up to see only the burning remains of the plant, scattered pieces writhing their death throes as they were burnt to crisp.

"A bit excessive, don't you think?"

"You shouldn't be looking at me. That was all Greengrass's fault. She's obsessed with violence. Trust me." Harry shrugged at his words.

Neville looked around, not seeing any sign of the Slytherin, "Where is she?"

Harry jumped impatiently, motioning to a door hidden in the shadows of the room, "Went through there about ten minutes ago."

"And you aren't worried about her?"

"Nope." Harry replied instantly, before quickly walking towards the door, "Come on. We have to go before she does all the awesome stuff and takes the loot."

"What loot?" Neville queried, stumbling a bit as he followed the eager boy, before finally pushing off the wall and standing steadily on his own.

"I don't know." Harry exclaimed excitedly, "And that's what makes it great. Maybe it's an Amulet of Strength, a legendary weapon." His voice shot down to a hush, "Or maybe even some Dragon bone. It could be anything."

Neville just looked at his crazed dormmate in askance, before finally accepting that Harry was slightly… abnormal and going through the door.

Only to be met with the headless bodies of four goblins laying together in a heap next to a large, ornate desk. And sitting on a highbacked chair, looking imperiously down at Neville was their missing Slytherin.

"You're awake." Daphne spoke softly, but Neville had very little trouble hearing it, "Good. Now we can go."

Wordlessly, Neville continued gaping as her as he shook his hands in the direction of the goblins

"Oh, them." Daphne waved off his accusations, "Don't worry I didn't do that. That was them. Did it as soon as we were finished here."

"And when was that?" Harry questioned from the goblins' bodies as he searched their pockets, Neville managed to catch sight of him slipping an elaborate ring into his clothes as he did so.

"Oh, just a bit ago." Daphne said airily, standing up and walking to the door that would likely lead them to the next chamber, "The trial was very quick."

"What exactly was it?" Neville asked, almost hesitant to hear the answer. Why would the goblins do this to themselves?

"Oh, it was simple." The blonde haired Slytherin replied, opening the next door and peering inside it, a visible grin appearing on her face as she did so, "Like this will be."

Curious, Neville passed through the door, joined by Harry, who looked longingly at the rest of the room. Inside, the room was dark, the only light provided by several torches that lined the wall. And, of course, the raging wall of fire that cut them off from the entrance behind it.

"Snape's challenge." Neville said distastefully, Harry echoing his statement with a frown as he looked at the series of potions on a pedestal in front of them.

"Like I said." Daphne stated, looking down at the paper in front of her, before picking up the smallest bottle of potion, "Simple."

Neville looked at the small vial cautiously, there wasn't much, but certainly enough for the three of them.

"Only one way to find out." Daphne shrugged, before offering it to Harry, "Drink."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he turned away from inspecting the other potions, "Any reason why I should."

"You landed me in this mess." Daphne explained simply, "So, you drink first."

"Well…" Harry started, drawing it out as he looked suspiciously at the vial, before shrugging as he took the vial, "Can't argue against that."

Then, with a flourish, he bought the vial up to his lips, taking a small sip. He grimaced at the taste, which Neville was sure Snape had done on purpose. Before turning to the fire and nonchalantly sticking his hand into it.

"Watch out!" Neville cried, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and pulling him away from the raging fire, "Why would you do that?"

"Simple." Harry smiled, showing off his unharmed hand, before stepping through the fire, "Greengrass would attempt to make her revenge much more painful."

Neville shook his head, lost for words, ignoring Daphne's snort of agreement from the side. Giving up, he took the vial and took his sip. Gagging, he forced down the vile concoction. It tasted like liver that had rotten for at least a week, with a side of animal manure. Why Neville knew what that tasted like? He would bring that secret to his grave.

Still gagging, he passed the mostly empty vial to Greengrass, walking through the fire. He marvelled at how he felt no heat from the flames, watching as the flames danced over his hand as he bought it through them.

Reaching the other side, Neville looked back to see Daphne drinking her portion of the potion. He was mildly impressed at the lack of any sign of distaste on her face.

Then as she walked towards the fire, a confident smile on her face, her legs buckled underneath her. Neville watched on with a horrified amusement as the Slytherin hit the floor, coming to rest in a jumbled heap, like a puppet cut from its strings.

"Wow." Harry spoke next to him, a large grin breaking out, "That was probably the best thing that I've ever seen."

"Do you think she's okay?" Neville asked, attempting to walk back through the flames, but he immediately recoiled as he felt heat starting to build up. The potion was wearing off!

"She's breathing so probably. But it's not like we can do anything about it. So, let's go!"

With that, Harry whirled around and started walking to the archway that would lead them to their next challenge. With one more worried glance back at the fallen Slytherin, he sped up to catch Harry just as he passed through the archway.

Before them, a flight of steps led them down into another torchlit chamber. Standing in the middle of the chamber was a large, golden mirror, engraved with elaborate script that ran along the frame with the elegance of a flowing river. But what attracted Neville's attention the most was not the mirror, extravagant and large as it was. But the figures in front of it. Or rather the two figures that Neville recognised.

"Professor Quirrell?" He spoke, his voice coming out in a shocked whisper as he tried to process what he was seeing.

"Mr Longbottom?" His professor spoke as he turned around to look at them, "Mr Potter? Oh, how good to see you."

Neville shared a look with Harry, both porting the same confused look, before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking at this wonderful mirror." His professor replied, as if it was obvious, "Did you know that it is charmed to see your hearts true desires? I only found this out when I entered. Truly a marvel of magic."

"Sir," Neville started again, eyes focused not on the mirror, but what lay next to it, casually lounging as it looked at them with interest, "Why is there a Sphinx with you?"

The Sphinx was golden, completely so. Its body was that of a lion, muscular and powerful. On her back, majestic wings sprouted, covered in feathers of gold and lazily resting against the floor. But her face was human. She had yellow eyes, ones that could be seen from far away, almost burning with golden flames. Her hair was gold as well, flowing down her shoulders to rest in a simple braid.

"Oh. Her?" Quirrell laughed, "She's here to guard the stone of course. You need to answer her riddle if you wish to pas-

The turban-wearing professor was forced to stop speaking as he sneezed hard into a handkerchief that appeared in his hand. Then, it was followed by a multitude of sneezes, each one harder than the last. Till finally, silence reigned over the chamber as both students and the Sphinx stared at him with morbid curiosity. Although, Neville and Harry should be long used to this. This happened in every class after all.

"I'm allergic to dust." The professor explained to the curious Sphinx, who just nodded then turned to continue staring at Neville and Harry.

"Where was I?" Quirrell muttered, "Oh yes! You must answer her riddle to pass. Else, you will die."

"Painfully." The Sphinx added in helpfully, still staring intensely at Neville, "Don't forget that."

"Yes, painfully!" Quirrell crowed, "So, I, of course, easily passed this trial."

"Uh sir." Harry spoke, next to Neville, "Do you mind if I – "

"Can ask me where my stutter wen-" He broke off to fly into another sneezing fest, which luckily was much shorter than before.

The professor immediately returned to his previous point, standing tall, "Well, I will tell you. What you must understand Mr Potter, is that all along I was only acting like scared, stuttering Quirinus Quirrell. When all along I was Quirinus Quirrell, follower of the – "

Unfortunately, this sneezing fit was a long one, which left Quirrell hunched over, catching his breath. Neville hesitated, before prompting, "Follower of the…"

"Quirinus Quirrell, follower of the Dar- "

As the next allergic reaction occurred, Neville spied Harry slowly sneaking to the side, towards the Sphinx. What was he doing? He moved to stop his dormmate, but both were frozen in their tracks when a hissing voice sounded out, filling the chamber with a sense of danger and emptiness.

"You dunce. Let me talk to the boy and get rid of the dust if you're allergic to it."

Still breathing deeply, Quirrell hesitated slightly, before sighing and turning around to face away from the two curious boys. Reaching up to his turban, he slowly untied it. Slowly, piece by piece it fell away, Neville felt his stomach well up in an emotion he had not felt in a long time. Fear.

What was under the hood?

Neville supressed a gag as the last layer of the turban fell away, revealing what looked to be the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. On the back of Quirrell's head, was another face. Misshapen and pale, eyes simply black sockets, joined with an endless pit of darkness as a mouth. The face seemed to be in constant pain with the skin seemingly stretched into many folds layered on top of each other.

But the worst was as he was looking at the face, he recognised it. The bubble of fear and tension in his stomach grew to fill his entire body as memories flashed through his mind. Of a woman screaming, a man laughing and a green light filling his vision.

"Voldemort." He said unconsciously. The name escaping from him before he could even truly think about it. But he knew he was right. He knew that this was Lord Voldemort… He was alive.

"Neville." Voldemort greeted back, his bottomless pit of a mouth stretching hideously to form a wide smile, "How good to see you again."

Neville scowled, holding his wand tightly in his hand, before suddenly raising it up. Only for Quirrell to spin around and summon both his and Harry's wands in an instant.

"Neville. Neville." Voldemort said mockingly, "Is this how you greet an old friend? With a wan- "

The Dark Lord was cut off by another of his host's coughing fits, which Neville took as an opportunity to run towards the coughing professor. However, he was slammed into the floor as the professor recovered, flicking his wand in his direction. Next to him, Harry slammed to the floor, having mirrored Neville's actions.

"Quirrell you fool!" Voldemort hissed, "I thought I told you to get rid of the dust!"

"I did master." Quirrell protested weakly, "But I'm also allergic to sweat."

"Why did I get the most incompetent fool as my follower?"

"Master, I swear I will be better. Remember you promised to cure me of them when you were reborn."

"Reborn!" Neville gasped, surprise flashing through him. How would Voldemort do this.

"Yes, Neville. Reborn." Voldemort smirked, "You see. In the mirror lies the Philosopher's Stone. The Greatest Alchemical Achievement in history, capable of turning lead into gold and giving life. Giving me life. And it's only protection were a few trials and an unlocked trapdoor."

Neville cast a wide-eyed glance at the mirror, catching sight of Harry's gaping mouth as the boy stared at the mirror in wonder. The Philosopher's Stone? It was in Hogwarts! Neville had always wanted to see it, but he swallowed dimly as he realised his wish would be granted. But at the cost of giving Voldemort a body.

However, he quickly realised something, "Why don't you have it then? You're lying to us."

Voldemort snarled, "What would I gain from lying to you boy. It is in the mirror. But Quirrell is too useless to find it."

"I will find it Master. Just give me time." Quirrell begged.

"Then get to it you buffoon!"

Quirrell reacted quickly, once again focusing on the mirror, but not before hitting Neville and Harry with a spell that bound them tightly against the ground. Voldemort muttered instructions to him as Quirrell began running his wand along the frame of the mirror.

Neville struggled against the ropes, straining his arms to try and break them free. But the ropes were like steel, not giving in even an inch and forcing Neville to continue lying there. Next to Neville, Harry was doing the same, even working at them with his teeth, only to stop with a groan.

"Their rock solid." Harry whispered, "Can't chew through them."

Neville quickly looked around, focusing on finding anything that could help free them. However, there was nothing. They were lying on the floor, surrounded by nothing but air.

"Wait." Harry whispered, drawing Neville's attention, "I have a plan."

Harry was looking intently to the side, looking at something that made Neville gasp. Of course, they were surrounded by nothing but air and the Sphinx. But what was Harry planning?

"Hey!" Harry whisper-yelled at the Sphinx, drawing its attention. The Sphinx looked at them, amused, golden hair swinging gently behind her, "Come here!"

The Sphinx snorted, "And why exactly should I be doing that child?"

"Because I have a riddle for you. One I don't think you can answer."

In an instant, the Sphinx was standing before them, eyes blazing in anger as it glared down at Harry, growling it said, "Are you mocking me child?"

"Mocking you?" Harry said amusedly, "No. It is simply a riddle that I believe you will not solve."

The Sphinx growled once again, bring its face closer to Harry's, "Tell me the riddle then?"

"You sure." Harry asked innocently, before grinning at the glare he was met with as he shrugged, "Your funeral then."

"Tell me!" The Sphinx roared.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"What?" The Sphinx said, confusion on her face, mirrored by Neville.

"That's the riddle." Harry smiled, "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"So, short?" The Sphinx hmphed, "This will be simple."

Harry simply smiled at the Sphinx, before turning to Neville with a wink. Neville looked back at him, wishing he could speak to Harry with his mind. It would be extremely useful now. Such as finding out what Harry was doing?

However, no matter how much he wished. He did not suddenly gain the ability to speak with his mind. Instead, he settled for watching the Sphinx. She was deep in thought. Her lion tail swinging rhythmically as she pondered the riddle.

Neville had never heard of the riddle before. But it seemed simple enough. Only finding a common theme among two things. She should be done soon.

But time slowly passed by, each second feeling like eternity till finally, the Sphinx's brows furrowed deeply, and it stared deeply at Harry.

"Does it have an answer?"

"Yes." Harry nodded affirmatively.

Then, I- " The Sphinx started, before it broke off, a look of anguish on her face, before it took a deep breath and continued with a shaky voice, "I do not know the answer."

Neville blinked once. Twice. Three times. Before his heart almost burst as hope filled him. He now understood Harry's plan. And he had to admit it was genius. Sphinxes were known for one thing. Always knowing the answer. Yet, here was one who could not answer a question.

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Yes!" The Sphinx growled, wings fluttering, "Tell me!"

"I will." Harry promised, before motioning his head in Voldemort's, "But first, take care of him for me."

"What?" The Sphinx growled, raising her voice haughtily, "You wish to command me?"

"Not command. No." Harry shook his head, "But as an all-knowing Sphinx you know what he is going to do as soon as he finds the stone."

The Sphinx's haughty façade broke down as she seemed to ponder the emerald eyed boy's point. Neville inched forward, heart welling up with hope as he waited for her answer. Would she say ye-

"No." The Sphinx shook her, her face covered with a distraught expression, "There is nothing more important to a Sphinx than her pride. I will not let you manipulate me human. I am sure I will find the answer if I wish t- "

"What is happening here?" Quirrell's voice sounded out as he stepped in to stand next to the Sphinx, "What are you talking abou- "

But then, as if by magic, Quirrell sneezed mightily. Taken completely unprepared by the sneeze, Quirrell could not bring a hand to block it, and sprayed mucus all over the direction he sneezed in.

All over the Sphinx's hair.

Time seemed to come to a standstill. Quirrell was standing in the sneezing position, watching the Sphinx's hair with horror. Said Sphinx was currently standing stock-still, before, slowly but surely, she dragged her head around to stare Quirrell in the eyes.

"You will tell me the answer?" The Sphinx asked, glaring at the rapidly paling professor, the air slowly crackling to life as a golden aura permeated from the air.

"Yup."

"Very well then." The Sphinx's feathers were fluttering in an invisible wind, her hair rising up to flow behind her.

"Quirrell," Harry started, staring at the man victoriously, before continuing, voice filled with smugness.

"GG."

"But I'm allergic to cats."

Then with a roar of magic, the Sphinx waved her paw to the side. Quirrell was struck by an invisible barrage and sent flying to the far wall. The paw swung back. Quirrell was sent flying back. Back and forth, the Sphinx sent the helpless professor and Dark Lord crashing against the walls. She was staring at him with so much anger in her eyes, that it almost seemed to set the air on fire.

Quirrell came to rest on the floor, broken and bloody. He was breathing raggedly, every breath sounding like a stick rattling against a cage. With a snort, the Sphinx floated the man in the air.

With a rush of magic, she roared at the man. Golden light shot out of her and blasted the professor. Bit by bit, Neville watched in fascination, as the professor seemed to dissolve into the air, first his legs, then body, arms and finally face. Neville breathed a sigh of relief as Voldemort's face dissolved into nothingness, the hideous mass of flesh and skin hopefully disappearing forever.

Yet, his smile dissolved as something stayed behind. A writhing ball of pure inky blackness floated in the air, arcs of darkness and smoke flinging out from the orb. The Sphinx was looking at it with an idle curiosity as if intrigued by the actions of a new-born baby.

Suddenly, with an unnatural scream the ball exploded, sending Neville hurtling against the wall. Unable to protect himself, he hit the wall full on, his head hitting the floor as he fell. He groaned as his vision started clouding over with darkness.

The last thing he saw was a face appear from the smoke, one filled with anguished pain, with anger and a lust for revenge. Voldemort's.

And then the darkness took over.

Madam Pomfrey POV

Poppy Pomfrey was used to having students in her wing for a myriad of reasons. Potions accidents, Quidditch. There were many reasons. But for each reason, there were more sicknesses and injuries. Broken bones, fever, boils, overgrown toenails. Everything.

Which was why as she put the potions on her tray ready to bring them to Harry Potter to treat him for magical exhaustion, she did not even find it surprising. This was only one of many times she had seen the boy in her wing this year. That Daphne Greengrass and Neville Longbottom were found with the same problem, a bit, but not even that caused her to bat an eyelid.

But, seeing Professor Dumbledore staring at Harry Potter as he awoke was surprising. Now, Poppy knew that Dumbledore cared for each of his students. But even so he was rarely in the hospital wing. To make it worse, she had no idea how she felt about that. While it was good for the students to be shown that they were cared for. Professor Dumbledore wasn't exactly…

Sound of mind.

Brilliant. Of course. No one could doubt that. A genius beyond measure. But sane? Now that was debatable.

"Harry." Dumbledore greeted brightly as he sucked at one of his lemon drops, infernal, unhealthy things that they were, "How good to see that you're awake."

However, it was his next words that caused her to grind her teeth in anger, "Would you like some Lemon Drops."

"Please Professor. I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

Poppy scowled as she angrily stomped towards Potter's bed, where he had joined the headmaster in sucking a lemon drop contentedly.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Potter brightly exclaimed as he saw her, "It's great that you're here. I wanted to see you one more time before the year ended."

"Mr Potter." She ground out, wand flashing out as she summoned a tray towards her and settled it on the boy's bed table, "It would please me very much if I never saw you in here again next here, even more so if that time period stretches to never. Now eat"

"But what about the stellar conversations you must have." Professor Dumbledore cut in, eyes twinkling madly, "From what I understand, Mr Potter is your most frequent patient."

Poppy rounded on the headmaster, wagging her finger, "And you. Hand them over."

Dumbledore's cunning smile immediately turned innocent, as he hunched forward, drawing himself downwards to make himself look more vulnerable, "Poppy? I don't understand."

"Hand. Them. Over."

Dumbledore just continued smiling at her, keeping his innocent act playing. However, Poppy would have none of them as she waved her wand once more, summoning all the lemon drops on Dumbledore's person.

Instantly, she was assaulted with a tsunami of yellow sweets, causing her to duck with a yelp, the barrage just barely missing her and placing her in her own hospital wing. The sweets crashed against the wall, causing it to crack slightly.

Turning around with a huff, she immediately narrowed her eyes as she spotted Potter squirreling something away under his pillow. Summoning it, she was greeted with a – thankfully – smaller number of Lemon Drops. How many was Dumbledore carrying. No matter. She would put a stop to this. It was time to show who ran this school.

"No more of those toxins in my school." She declared, daring him to disobey, "Or else I will get Minerva to take away your telescope."

Dumbledore shrank back, eyes widening in fear. In a flash, he appeared before her, on his knees, begging before her, "Poppy! Please! I beg you! The solstice is coming up and if I want to beat that fossil Huber, I need that telescope. Please Poppy! Please!"

Poppy simply raised an eyebrow, "Then no more Lemon Drops." Just to check, she ran her wand along the headmaster once more, who stood completely still, unwilling to earn her disapproval.

Satisfied that she had found nothing, she headed to her desk close by to prepare more potions.

"She truly is a force of nature. Isn't she?" She heard Potter say, voice quaking in fear.

"No. She's a Force of Nature. I'm fairly sure she can sense when you aren't talking in capitals." Dumbledore's quiet voice responded, hushed, but not quiet enough. Poppy smiled contently to herself.

Dumbledore would be walking on eggshells around her for some time, which would bring some much-needed peace and quiet. Maybe she could finally convince him to stop the annual Teacher Bumper Car Game. She would never forgive Snape for his transgressions against her.

"True Professor. But why are you actually here?"

"Ah, my boy. Simply to tell you that due to you and Mr Longbottom, and Ms Greengrass's heroics, the Philosopher's Stone is safe and sound with the Flamels once again and Voldemort is nowhere to be seen."

"But Sir, why was the Stone even here to begin with."

"Simple my boy." Dumbledore began, his voice sounding wise for once, "I thought it almost impossible to retrieve the stone here. Not only are the school wards incredibly difficult to penetrate. Furthermore, the trapdoor you entered was placed under the strongest enchantments I have ever personally placed, impossible to unlock magically and needing a key to do so. Indeed, I believe that I will be pondering for quite some time how Voldemort broke through the enchantments and opened it without the key."

"Sir."

"Yes Harry?" Poppy's ears perked up at the sound of plastic being teared, a very familiar sound. He had another one.! She stood up and charged towards Potter's bed, intent on catching the old man before he escaped.

"Voldemort said the trapdoor was unlocked when they entered."

Arriving at Potter's bed. She sighted him grinning at her, the wrapper of a Lemon Drop on his bedside table as Dumbledore walked towards the door.

"Well then my boy. That leaves only one explanation." Dumbledore smiled at her, cheeks hollowing as he sucked on the Lemon Drop and opened the wing's doors. Poppy gave him one simple warning glare.

"What's that, Sir?"

"I forgot to lock the trapdoor."

And with that, Dumbledore disappeared through the doors, Poppy running after him, almost leaving burn tracks in the ground as she ran after the fleeing old man.

Yet, behind her she heard the crowing laughter of a single, young boy, emerald eyed, with jagged, black hair, as he lay on his hospital bed. Probably enjoying his free entertainment, she thought vindictively.

Then faintly, she heard Daphne Greengrass moan out one sentence.

"Shut up Potter."

There we go. A second, much, much longer chapter finished. I plan on doing two chapters each for 2nd and 3rd year. No idea what I'm putting in them, but 2 chapters per year.

Once again, please tell me what you enjoyed. Your favourite character, moment, anything. If you want, you can suggest some characters I can write a POV from. I'll just come up with a random personality for them.

Talking about personality. I got a review that Ron was OOC. I couldn't agree more, but honestly, all my characters are OOC in some respects, or all aspects. This fic is just for fun and nothing should be taken seriously.

Personal Favourite POV: Hagrid

Personal Favourite Moment: Dumbledore saying he forgot to lock the door.

Once again, I am making no political comment and till the next chapter. Which will take a while to make. Much longer than this one, probably.

Au Revoir