"I told you to check on it while I was on holiday didn't I?" Finley frowned as she checked the potion she had been brewing for a few weeks now. Thanks to the modified instructions she's made on Felix Felicis, she was able to speed up the process of brewing it. It's been a solid month into the brewing process, it lead to the point where she had been sleeping in the ruins some nights and that the only time she could get in classes was when there was a quiz.
"It's not burnt, Potter. Can you at least be proud of me that I got in here alone without getting my leg bitten off by your pet runespoor?" Nicholas tried to defend himself as he gestured at the 7-foot tall three-headed snake like an idiot he was.
'As if we could eat his disgusting human leg,' one of the heads rolled its eyes that only Finley could see, she stops herself from laughing. Stirring the brewing potion, estimating the time that it would be ready, it wouldn't be too long before it's ready with the ever-burning fire and the golden cauldron in use, after all, it was like brewing the potion of the living dead.
"So when do you think this will be ready?" Nicholas asks Finley as he sat next to her on the laid-out sleeping back she slept in the night before.
"Give or take... a couple of weeks maybe?" She tells him as she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the wet sleeves on her skin. She forgot how to cast the drying charm again.
"Let me," Nicholas offered, taking out his wand and starting to dry her clothes except for her hair. In the end, he lends her his coat that was abnormally cold for her taste, but un-ironically she always felt below the cold human temperature. "Honestly as smart as you are, you don't know how to perform a simple warming charm."
"I have no excuse," she shook her head, trying her now dry puffy hair into a ponytail, leaving the brewing potion alone before standing up from where she sat. "Let's come back here next week, maybe by then it would be ready."
"So what are you doing after this?" Nicholas asks her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Assuming that you don't attend your classes and all."
"I do attend my classes."
"Really?" Nicholas raises his brow at her. "Then tell me what class you have right now?"
She fell silent, biting her lip as she tried to recall what classes she was taking this year, she's been to them of course. "Care for magical creatures?" She guessed.
"Wrong," Nicholas shook his head, crossed his arms in front of him, "no 6th year took Care for magical creatures this year."
"Then Arithmancy?"
"Guess again."
"Potions!"
Nicholas raised his brow at her in a challenging look, "what's the potion that was written on the chalkboard this afternoon?"
"Everlasting Elixers?" She tried to guess again.
"Good guess, but no," Nicholas shoots down again before handing her a piece of parchment.
"Poly juice potion?" She says in a confused tone, "I thought this was for next week."
"What week do you think it is now?"
"First week since getting back—"
"Finley, where have you been for two whole weeks?" Nicholas frowned, witnessing how Finley's confused state turned into anxious jittering.
"I don't remember," she replied, racking her brain to recall what she had done so far, it felt like she blacked out for so long. Frantic she was, she quickly went towards her bag, fussed to find a mirror or anything with a reflective surface.
Expecting a talking surface but none, no red-eyed reflection, just her green ones.
"I think we should get back, it's almost dinner," Nicholas suggests, worried for the girl's well-being. He also wanted to find out where she was during those weeks that she didn't remember at all, should he investigate? He wasn't sure what to do.
"Fucking—Achoo! Valentine's day—achoo!"
"Alright! Who brought in the roses?" Blaise called around analyzing the common room for anyone who held a rose, sniffing for who sprayed rose perfume. "We talked about this people, chocolates and any type of flowers are allowed except for Roses."
"It's fine Blaise," Finley waves off, tugging up her slightly loose turtle neck up to her nose to prevent herself from smelling the scent. Sniffing once in a while due to her sneezing, there was no helping her at this time of night knowing that it would get worse the next day due to it being valentines day.
"Can I borrow your Ancient Runes notes?" She asks him, diverting the attention from her allergy, wanting to get shit done before anything else.
"Have you done your astronomy yet?" Blaise asks her as he handed his notes.
"Haven't... yet," she replied before sniffing again. Nauseated and exhausted, she seemed fine earlier, but she wasn't. Tugging down her turtle neck to wipe her nose, only to look down on her hand stained with red. "What the?"
"Finley!" Astoria's gasp was heard, looking up the majority of the people in the room looked at her in shock to see her nose bleeding. "Let's get you to the hospital wing," Blaise suggested, his voice stern masking his anxiety. Finley was still clueless as to why her nose was bleeding still but she didn't want to make a huge fuss about it.
"I'll just sleep it off," she tells him, grabbing a bunch more tissues and stuffing them up to her nose. "It must be the exhaustion," she mumbled, standing up from where she sat, not making any move to gather her things before leaving.
Her head down with tissues still stuffed in her nose, she made a sharp turn to exit the common room and slumped her back against the cold stone wall. Taking off the tissues to see the dampness, cursed herself for not grabbing more tissues to replace them. It was late to walk into the hospital wing, a miracle that no one found themselves in there the whole year apart from Katie Bell. The idea of going in Snake Bite was enticing but she wasn't up for a mood of consolation from her friend Adrian, even with the wondering information she could get it was just not worth it.
'A walk would be nice,' she thought, pushing herself off the wall, didn't matter if Mrs. Norris the ugly cat would find her nor did she care if Filch would tell on her to Snape. She hasn't had a conversation with the old guardian of hers since he suggested death poisoning her to Umbridge the year before, how her respect for him plummeted after that.
Walking around was a good idea, her luck that she hasn't had an encounter with both Filch and his dumb cat yet. There were two places she thought of visiting, one was the kitchen for sure, she barely ate anything for dinner with all her recalling of where her mind had been the past couple weeks, questioning herself what she had done or where had been.
The second place was the room of requirements, the one place that never failed to comfort her. Haven't visited the place since the 5th year, would it still comfort her now?
The seventh floor had never been this isolated before, the paintings were all asleep she could swear that she could hear some of them sleep talking too. Turning to the left, let her footsteps pat on the floors, imagining a room that would give her comfort. Would that have been too hard to ask? It's done it before.
Aimlessly walked around until she heard a door clock, facing her left to find a familiar door. Her favorite door.
Expecting something familiar like a cushioned chair, bookshelves, maybe some grass, and some singing flowers. After opening the door she saw none of those, it was an empty room. No other objects were inside but a fireplace, a pillow on the floor, and a mirror.
"Is this your way of comforting me?" She asked no one, maybe the room itself she wasn't so sure. She could have already lost her mind even.
Walking the spacious room, even if it was indeed empty it was warm still. Like she was coming back to a place she had so many fond memories of, letting herself sit on the cushioned floor facing the fireplace rather than the mirror. She wasn't up to facing her reflection who did nothing but nag her.
"Finley," a voice spoke an unfamiliar yet familiar voice. Was it a ghost?
She turns her head towards the mirror, thinking that it was her reflection tricking her again, but no. Her eyes in the mirror were still her own.
"You won't talk to me huh?" She asks her reflection, "did you finally take my advice to stop nagging me?"
No answer.
"It's good now I guess? One less thing to call me crazy by," she sighed. The room was filled with silence after that, only the fire crackling was heard, she stared at her reflection. Observing every inch of herself only now did she realize the difference.
Her reflection was of her but so different. Instead of black leggings and a lazy tank top wrapped in a knitted cardigan that she now wore, she saw herself wearing a more sophisticated Hogwarts uniform. Black cloak vest, a corset skirt, and a long-sleeved dress shirt peeking from underneath. Red and gold on her tie, she was frowning, confused, and frowning. Holding the snake amulet she gave Harry in one hand while she held a black gemmed ring she was too familiar with.
"What are you doing in here, Miss Potter?" A familiar nasal toned voice spoke from behind her, causing her to turn around to find herself face to face with the black-robed teacher. "Here I thought that you outgrew you... troublesome ways."
"A night stroll is troublesome now, huh?" She whispered to herself, standing up from the pillow she sat on. Knowing well that she was getting escorted back to the dungeons with a long lecture.
The walk back to the dungeons was excruciatingly long compared to the one she took when she went to the seventh floor, maybe it was because Snape was extra quiet and it scared her for what he was going to say to her. Even after years had passed since he decided to kick her out, here she was still afraid of him.
"Do you remember the first gift you gave me on my first Christmas in Hogwarts?" She asked, making a sad effort to start a conversation only to receive silence. So she continued.
"It was a book on potions and alchemy," she sighed, "and at the time I was very grateful because it helped on our search for Flamel's stone."
"And you had the urge to mention this, why?" The bitter professor asks her, harshly turning to face her with his eyes narrowed down at her.
"It was a good memory," she muttered as she looked down.
"And the year after that you gave me the talk regarding my vaults," she tells him, this time raising her head. "Even lent me a book about it, why?"
"There's no room for such trivial questions, Miss Potter—"
"You raised me, you should have known how curious I could get," she tells him, seeing the professor unaffected by her brave attempt to question him her breath hitched. "Unless... you knew what was going to happen next."