Magic? || Years 1-5

Tom Riddle: Year 2

It was enough to distract her from the noises her ears had unintentionally caught.

The sound of yelling, of music, of laughter.

Cold, psychotic laughter that froze her to her core.

And the faint slithering of a massive snake, and then a loud thump.

There was another yell, this one furious, and Amisty stopped in her work. They had made a big enough hole in the wall for her to squeeze through.

But only in her wolf form.

"Amisty, what's up?" Ron asked, noticing her frozen movement.

There was another scream and she twitched slightly.

"Ron, cast the transformation spell," She replied simply, tearing away at the hole in the wall.

He caught on with what she was trying to say, face pale.

"I can't do that... you can't just go and -- " He started, shaking his head frantically at her.

"Trust me, Ron. Just do it, please," She pleaded, turning away from the wall and meeting his gaze evenly.

She handed him her wand. He took it hesitantly, not at all wanting to use it.

"Bring them both back, Amisty," He raised his chin slightly, before lifting up her wand. "Lupus Estaria."

The second she felt her paws touch the ground, she raced toward the hole in the wall.

Then she skidded to a stop and looked behind her. Ron looked panicked. She padded toward him, placing one of her paws on the toe of his shoe reassuringly, and then bounded away.

Her pawsteps were quiet in the tunnel, and as she rounded the second corner she was met with a set of doors.

They were open wide, like the mouth of a monster. As she neared closer, an unfamiliar voice came clear to her.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter. Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry... She bought you twelve years of borrowed time... but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you now he must..." The voice was young, but threatening all the same.

Amisty felt her heart stop as she neared closer. Harry was lying on the ground of the next room, drenched in crimson blood.

A bird... no, a phoenix was beside him, crying pearl white tears onto his arm.

She racked her brain, remembering the tiny bit of information she knew of phoenix's from Madame Pomfrey.

Their tears had healing properties no witch or wizard could mimic. The basilisk lay dead beside him, a gleaming silver sword covered in blood lodged in the roof of its mouth.

The Sorting Hat lay at Harry's feet, motionless.

She swallowed her whimper at the sight of the boy with him. He was no doubt the source of the voice.

He could be no older than sixteen, with short black hair and dark eyes. But it was almost as if he wasn't there, the edges of his body fading into the air around him.

"Get away, bird. Get away from him -- I said, get away -- " The boy snarled, brandishing Harry's wand at the phoenix.

There was a loud bang and the phoenix took off, flying away.

Amisty tore her gaze away, spotting the motionless form of Ginny lying just in front of a massive statue. She hurried toward her, pressing her nose to the girl's neck at feeling the slightest hint of a pulse.