Magic? || Years 1-5

Who Is She?: Year 2

"Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Halloween feast... should be big enough by then," Hagrid smiled, tapping on of them lightly.

"What've you been feeding them?" Harry asked incredulously, his eyes not leaving the monstrosities Hagrid called 'pumpkins.'

"Well, I've bin givin' them -- you know -- a bit o' help -- " His voice trailed off and he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

Amisty looked around, catching sight of Hagrid's pink umbrella. S

he nudged her friends, jerking her head in the direction of it.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose? Well, you've done a good job on them" Hermione commented, her voice laced with distaste and laughter.

"That's what yer little sister said. Met her jus' yesterday," Hagrid turned to Ron, eyes twinkling. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house. If yeh as me, she wouldn' say no ter a sighed -- "

Amisty sneakily left Harry's side, collapsing into a primarily silent bout of laughter next to Ron.

His face had broken into a wide grin as he too fought

"Oh, shut up," Harry groaned crossley, his cheeks tinged with pink.

Amisty winked at Ron, which resulted in him snorting, sending a mass of slugs onto the ground.

This only made Amisty laugh harder.

"Watch it!" Hagrid dragged Ron away from the pumpkin patch, inducing another round of laughter from Amisty.

-=+=-

Lunchtime came about, so the four said goodbye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle.

Ron only hiccupped once or twice, bringing about two tiny slugs instead of the great amounts from earlier on in the morning.

"There you are Potter -- Weasley," Professor McGonagall called, walking toward them just as they entered. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" Ron asked, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle another belch.

"You will be polishing silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch. And no magic, Mr. Weasley -- elbow grease. And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," The Professor replied sternly.

Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh no -- Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" Harry asked hopelessly, his tone verging on pleading.

"Certainly not. Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you," And with that, she walked down the hallway.

They walked into the Great Hall, Ron and Harry dejectedly, Amisty and Hermione quite cheerfully even though Hermione was still distraught over Amisty's sugar intake.

When dessert came round, she swatted away her hand, shaking her head.

"Filch'll have me there all night. No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning," Ron sighed, pushing his food around his plate.

"I'd swap anytime. I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail... he'll be a nightmare," Harry replied sorrowfully.

Amisty and Hermione traded looks.

"They brought it upon themselves," Hermione mouthed, looking only the slightest bit sorry for the two.

"To be fair, they're not too clever, the car was probably the only option in their minds," Amisty mouthed back with a teasing grin.

Hermione chuckled quietly, rolling her eyes at the joke. In her moment of distracted, Amisty snuck a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

Harry caught her in the act, raising an eyebrow. She smiled sweetly, earning an amused grin back.

Hermione hadn't noticed. Mission accomplished.

-=+=-

Amisty was sitting in the common room, pouring over her spell books as she worked through her homework.

There wasn't much of it, but she had been stalling the entire day to get it done. And now she was paying the price.

With one last flourish of her quill, she was finished, so she turned to the photo album she had taken down as well.

Opening it up to a random page, she took in the largest photo of five. It was of her mother and father, they looked like they were around their lower twenties in this particular photograph... and another young woman who she couldn't quite recognize, but there was a spark of remembrance in the back of her mind.

She was wearing long, flowing black robes, her hands concealed behind the sleeves. But despite her curious clothing, her eyes were a sparkling hazel.

Her hair was a coffee brown, falling in gentle curls all the way down to her mid thigh. She smiled up at Amisty, revealing one of her hands to wave.

Her smile was small, but radiated warmth and tenderness.

Who was this woman?

"You're still working?" A familiar voice asked, followed by the sound of the painting swinging closed.

"Just finished, actually," She replied tiredly, closing the photo album and placing it on top of her books. "How was your detention?

"Dreadful! You would think there wouldn't be too much, but no. Once one pile was done up came another!" Harry groaned, his head falling into his hands as he took a seat next to her.

"I suppose it could be worse?" Amisty offered, struggling to keep a straight face at his predicament.

"It's not only that though. There was this voice..." He explained what happened at his detention. About the mysterious voice that only he, not Lockhart, could hear.

How it whispered: Come... come to me... Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you...  By the end of it, Amisty was shivering.

"That's... disturbing," She declared at last, thinking hard about what on earth the voice could be.

"It sure is," Harry nodded, then he got to his feet, covering his mouth with his hand to smother his yawn. "Well, I'm going to head up to bed. Goodnight, Amisty."

"Goodnight, Harry," She smiled, gathering up her books and parchment before walking up to her own dormitory.

Dropping her belongings atop her trunk, she crawled into her bed and pulled the covers over her.