THE CHOSEN TWINS

CHAPTER 11: PETTIGREW SENT TO AZKABAN.

THE CHOSEN TWINS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE CHOSEN TWINS AND I HAVE HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. IF YOU WANT PLEASE CATCH "THE POTTER TWINS AND THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT" STARTING MOST PROBABLY TOMORROW...

TILL THEN ENJOY THIS,

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

'Good afternoon, Harry,' said Dumbledore.

"Hazel?" Harry looked for his glasses, he wanted to see his sister. "Calm down,Harry,she is right next to you."

Hazel Potter was sure enough, sleeping peacefully on the next bed.

"How long have we been this way Professor?"

"Three days,Harry and your sister hasn't woken up yet."

"She's okay?"

"Of course, Madam Pomfrey has done her job very well."

Harry stared at him. Then he remembered.

'Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick –'

'Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,' said Dumbledore. 'Quirrell does not have the Stone.'

'Then who does? Sir, I –'

'Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.'

He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.

'Tokens from your friends and admirers,' said Dumbledore, beaming. 'What happened down in the dungeons between you two and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.'

'You got there? You got Hermione's owl?'

'We must have crossed in mid-air. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you –'

'It was you.'

'I feared I might be too late.'

'You nearly were, We couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer –'

'Not the Stone, boy, you two – the effort involved nearly killed you both. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed.'

Sir?' said Harry. 'I've been thinking ... Sir – even if the Stone's gone, Vol– ... I mean, You-Know-Who –'

'Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.'

'Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?'

'No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share ... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time – and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.'