Harry Potters Twin Book One

Through the Trapdoor

“Feraverto,” I whispered. The rat squeaked and shrunk into a snuffbox with Christmas designs swirled around the sides.

“Good job, Ms. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, scribbling something on her clipboard. When she looked up at me, she had the same glint in her eyes that Professor Flitwick had.

It made me wonder about my parents.

Snape's class was... nerve wracking. I knew how to make the forgetfulness potion by heart, but every time he saw that I was getting too comfortable, he would come over and breathe down my neck. Every time he tsked, I would wonder what it was that I did wrong.

But there wasn't anything wrong with my potion. He searched and searched before finally scribbling something down and moving on the bully Neville. Next to me, Bonnie sent me a pleased smile, a perfect potion sitting right in front of her.

Absently, I rubbed my scar. It had been aching on and off all day, and every time it did I would look at Harry, and he would look at me. It couldn't be a coincedence that we both felt pain at the same moment; this wasn't something to be expected from an old scar. It had been happening more and more, ever since I saw Quirrell (or Voldemort), ever since I saw the dying unicorn.

That image still haunted me, and every time I went to sleep I would see his silver eyes pleading for me to save him. Hermione would comfort me when I woke up crying in my bed. She had been startled the first time I'd done it, not used to seeing me cry, but then she chalked it up to exam stress. I would clutch my cat, Unicorn, and plead for her not to tell anyone, and she would promise me that she wouldn't. I didn't want Harry to worry, but most of all, I didn't want him to put two and two together; then he'd just worry even more.

At lunch, Hermione was forcing us all to study, but Harry kept glancing at Snape.

“Harry!” I snapped, annoyed that his paranoia was affecting his grades. It only made it worse since Snape wasn't trying to kill him. “Snapes not going to kill you in the middle of the Great Hall. Now study before I set your head on fire.”

Harry had gave me a grudging glare, but tried to focus more on what Hermione was teaching.

After the History of Magic exam (the most boring exam ever), we were done. Harry, Ron, and Bonnie had collapsed with relief, but Hermione was whispering about batty old wizards who invented what and founded where under her breath.

“That was far easier than I thought it would be,” Hermione said as we walked out of the castle and into the sunny grounds. “I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager.”

We flopped down under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of the giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

“No more studying,” Ron leaned back happily, stretching out on the grass. “Now we all can relax.”

“Finally, no more trips to the library – right, Nixie?” Bonnie asked with with a smile.