Rory Potter, the Girl Who Lived

Beyond the Fire

          I hiss in a shocked breath. In front of is stands none other than Professor Quirrel.
          "You!" Harry growls. Quirrel smiles, deadly calm.
          "Me," he agrees. "I thought I would be meeting you two here." He laughs, a cruel, harsh sound. "You never suspected p-p-poor st-stuttering Professor Quirrel. How very useful to have Snape swooping around here like an overgrown bat."
          "But Snape tried to kill us!" I say defensively. He claps his hands and ropes spring out of nowhere, binding Harry and I together.
         "No, no, dear, I tried to kill you. I would have succeeded if that wretched man hadn't been muttering the countercurse. Now, silence while I examine this mirror. It's the only way to get the stone."
          "The Mirror of Erised!" I gasp. Harry tries to scooch to the left, but loses his balance and topples over, dragging me down with him. I shriek, then swear at my brother.
          "Bloody hell, Harry, why'd you do that?"
          "The children! Use them . . . " a high, cold voice rings out, coming from Quirrel. But he doesn't move his lips. I freeze at it, my face paling. Quirrel rounds on us, and the ropes disappear.
          "Yes, Potters, come here," he says, guestering at the mirror. I channel energy into my necklace and contact Harry with my mind. We'd been practicing since I did it with Neville when we got detention.
          Harry! What do we do? I ask, panicking.
          Rory? What he says, I guess. We haven't really got a choice.
          Okay.
          Stay behind me, little sis'.
          We step up to the mirror, and there we stand, clinging onto each other, pale and terrified out of our wits. Suddenly, I feel a weight in my sweatshirt pocket. Then my reflection reaches into the pocket and pulls out a gleaming red stone. It winks and hands it Harry's reflection, which pockets it. Harry stiffens, and I can only guess that he has in in his pocket.
          "Well?" Quirrel demands. "What do you see?"
          "The Quidditch cup! Gryffindor has won it!" I lie quickly.
          "She lies . . . " says the same cold voice. Quirrel's lips still don't move. "Let me speak to them . . . "
          "But Master - " Quirrel starts. The other voice interrupts him, saying, "I am strong enough. Do it."
          Quirrel starts to unwrap his turban, and when the purple fabric falls away, he turns around. Upon the back of his head is a face. With red eyes and snakelike features. My scar flares in pain, and I let out a small gasp. It's Voldemort.
          "Once I have the Elixar of Life, I can live on my own, be the great wizard I once was. Now, Mr Potter, why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
          Harry shoves something into my sweatshirt pocket, and I know its the Stone, at the same time shoving me backwards so it looks like he's protecting me.
          "Your parents died begging me for mercy, Potters, as will you . . . "
          "LIAR!" I scream. "THEY DIED PROTECTING US WITH ALL THEY HAD!"
          I run for the flames, dragging Harry behind me.
          "SEIZE THEM!" Voldemort bellows. Quirrel dives after us, and my scar flares in pain. I clench my hand into a fist and keep running. Suddenly, Harry's gone. Both him and Quirrel are rolling on the floor, screaming in pain. I sprint over and try to drag Quirrel away, but it hurts like I'm being burnt. I leave bright red on arm. A strong pain throbs through my arm, and I scream bloody murder.
         "Rory, run!" Harry yells. Squirrel waves a hand and I'm sent flying away. My wand skitters from my grasp. I'm now wandless and weak, but I struggle upright anyways. I channel energy into my necklace and scream the first spell I can think of.
          "Everte Statum!" 
          A blast of rose-coloured light throws Quirrel backwards off of my brother, but that's all I have time to see before I collapse to the ground, my vision turning black.

          I'm surrounded by white. And grey. My eyes flutter open, but my vision remains unfocused: I'm not wearing my glasses. In fact, I'm not wearing anything but a thin white cotton nightgown. My brain slowly puts two and two together and I realize that I'm in the hospital wing.
          Two voices converse beside me, and after a moment, I recognize them as belonging to my brother and Professor Dumbledore. I bolt upright.
          "Professor, Harry! The Stone - Quirrel - what happened? Where's my necklace?!" I demand. Professor Dumbledore turns to face me.
          "Awake at last, Miss Potter?" Dumbledore smiles. "You necklace is on the bedside table."
          I snatch it up and put it on. I notice that my glasses are there as well, so I put those on, too. Dumbledore's shining eyes scrutinize the rose quartz.
          "What an extraordinary object that is, Miss Potter," he says, "with extraordinary powers. Do you know what it does, by any chance?"
          I blink, then say slowly, "I've known it allows me to communicate with animals for a while, and humans as well, but other than that, sir, I haven't a clue."
          "You used it to cast a spell back in that room, so there's one more thing to tick off on the list: it allows you to do magic without a wand. And I do believe that it will act as an invisibility cloak, make it so you can breathe under water, and, when you are strong enough, control the elements. I suggest you practice this summer, as I know for a fact that it is not logged with the Ministry of Magic.
​.         "So, as I was saying, Mr Potter, you'd better go to the feast. I would like to have a word with your sister before I join the rest of the school. And, if Madam Pomphrey approves, she will join the both of us shortly afterwards," Professor Dumbledore says to Harry, who nods. Once he has gone, Dumbledore turns to me once more.
          "Sir, what is all this?" I ask, guestering at the assortment of candy and flowers that has been arranged around me.
          "Tokens from your friends and admirers," he says. "You have been here for three whole days, Miss Potter. That spell you cast was very complex for a student your age, and you were weak already. Madam Pomphrey says it's a wonder you survived. Now, to summarize, you and your brother kept the Stone away from Quirrel, and the effort involved nearly killed the both of you. Quirrel has passed away, as have Nicholas Flamel and his wife: the Stone has been destroyed. They chose to destroy the Stone, so do not mourn them."
          "But, sir, I noticed that when Harry or I touched Quirrel, his skin burnt. Why?" I ask.
          "Ahh, yes . . . that is because he had a bit of Voldemort living within him. You see, when your mother died to save the two of you, she accidentally created a shield: Voldemort cannot touch you two without feeling immense pain. He tried to come back to full power, but the two of you stopped him," Dumbledore explains.
          "But why does he want to kill Harry and I?" I ask, confused.
          "You will know when the time is right, Rory, trust in that," he says.
          "Why does Professor Snape hate Harry and I?" I ask. "And how did we get the Stone from the Mirror?"
           "Professor Snape did not like your father, and you both remind him of James. Now, one who wants the Stone but does not wish to use it can retrieve it from the Mirror. That is why you and your twin got the Stone. Now, why don't you go and ask Madam Pomfrey if you are able to go to the feast. I will see you later, Miss Potter," Dumbledore says, and with that, he's gone.

          Twenty minutes later, I'm dressed and walking down to the Great Hall. The entire school is already there, and I immediately run over to Hermione. We throw our arms around each other and practically sob. Then I repeat the same thing with Harry, then Ron. The feast is delicious, and when we've lll ate our fills, Professor Dumbledore gets to his feet.
          "Now, for the House Cup," he says, "we have Gryffindor in last place with 262 points. In third, Hufflepuff, with 352 points. In second, Ravenclaw, with 426 points. And in first place, Slytherin, with 472 points."
          The Slytherin table roars with cheers as emerald green and silver banners unroll, but Dumbledore holds up a hand.
          "Yes, well done Slytherin. However, there are some recent events that need to be taken into account. First, to Mr. Ron Weasley - "
          Ron goes purple in the face.
          " - for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has ever seen, I award fifty points."
          Gryffindor cheers nearly raise the bewitched ceiling. At last, there is silence.
          "Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for facing deadly plants with bravery, I award another fifty points."
          I throw my arms around my curly-haired friend as she bursts into tears. All the Gryffindor yell and cheer.
          "Third, to Mr Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award fifty points."
          Harry turns bright red as the Gryffindor scream their approval.
          "Fourth, to Miss Rory Potter, for outstanding potions skills and using her resources, I award fifty points."
         The din is deafining. Those of us who can add while yelling ourselves hoarse know that Gryffindor is now tied in first place with Slytherin. I burst into happy tears and bury my face into the nearest person to me, which happens to be Fred.
          "There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore smiles. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our freinds. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
          I jump to my feet, screaming and cheering as loud as I can; my hands hurt from clapping so hard. Hermione and I throw our arms around Neville, and he soon dissapears under a pile of hugs.
          "We've won!" I scream. "Hermione, we did it!"

          It's hard to believe that we're on the train back home already. I'm sitting with Harry, Hermione, Fred, George, and Luna. We laugh and talk and are in general ecstatic due to our recent win. Even Luna is super happy for us. When the train pulls into Platform Nine and Thred-Quarters, we all say our goodbyes.
          "See you Ron!" I say.
          "Wait, you're coming to stay with us for the last few weeks of summer, correct?" he asks. I nod and hug the twins. I wave hello to Mrs Weasley, then throw myself at Hermione.
          "Hermione!" I squeal.
          "Rory, I'm gonna miss you," she says, "promise you'll write to me?"
         "Of course! I'll have to borrow Moony's owl, but I'll write as often as I can," I say. She hugs me one more time, then disappears. I have a very tearful goodbye with my brother, who promises to write every other day, then I run off to find Moony. He's waiting for me with my trunk.
          "Moony!" I squeal, throwing myself at him. He picks he up and hugs me. "I've missed you!"
         "I've missed you too, Rory," he says. "So, had was your year? Tell me all about it."
​​​​​​          "Oh. Wow. It was . . . interesting," I say vaguely.
          "Details, Rory! Elaborate!" 
         "Hmm . . . I don't know where to begin . . . "