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When Harry, Hermione and Ron arrived outside the forbidden third-floor corridor that night they didn't even see Lyssa hiding in the shadows behind a suit of armour, waiting for them. They seemed surprised she had come this far.
"If you want to turn back now's your chance," Harry whispered.
"You heard him, Wiley," Ron looked at her, "Time to run home crying," he teased.
"I was talking to all of you," Harry clarified, "I have to do this, you guys don't." He was deadly serious.
"As if," Ron said, "You don't really think we're gonna let you do this alone do you?"
"Yeah, Harry," Hermione joined in, "We're with you all the way."
"I can't steal all the glory if I turn back, now can I?" Lyssa joked. She winked at Ron and with that, they opened the door and stepped into Fluffy's abode.
The dog was sleeping. A harp was floating off to the side playing a chilling melody. When confronted with the semi-truck-sized heads of the dog Lyssa began to wonder if they had given her an accurate assessment of the danger she would be in.
Silently the four of them worked to push one of the dog's paws off of the trapdoor. Once they had done that they opened it and looked down. It was pitch black and very clearly a sheer drop.
"So who wants to go first?" Hermione laughed breathlessly. Lyssa forced a small laugh but was certain that she would wait for someone else to test it. The four exchanged glances, nobody wanted to be first it seemed. They tried dropping a small rock from the corner of the room down the hole but they couldn't hear when it landed.
"It's either very far down or the landing is soft," Lyssa concluded. They were wasting time but still, the children were too afraid to take the first step.
"I have an idea," Ron said.
"Let's hear it," Lyssa urged.
"You don't want to hear it," Ron assured her.
"Why not, any idea is a -" Lyssa was cut off by Ron giving her a forceful nudge into the darkness beneath the trapdoor. She screamed. And she screamed some more. And when she thought the drop would never end she landed with a soft thud.
"Are you alive?" Ron shouted down to her. The trapdoor was no more than a small square of light high above Lyssa now.
"Yes!" She shouted back, "But you won't be if we make it out of this alive!" The Gryffindors were already falling as she yelled the second part. Before they landed however Lyssa took her first good look around her. To her horror, she felt long thick tendrils wrap themselves around her body. They were strong and in a matter of seconds, she couldn't move.
"Lucky it was a soft landing," Ron laughed after they had landed.
"What is this, some sort of plant?" Harry asked, looking around.
Hermione just screamed and dragged herself to the edge of the room where she was safe on a strip of stone.
"Hermione," Lyssa soothed, "I need you to be calm," Hermione nodded as she found Lyssa's eyes in the darkness. "I think this is devil's snare but I need you to light your wand so we can get a better look, okay?" Hermione did as instructed and everyone but Lyssa gasped when they saw the way the plant had wrapped itself around Harry, Ron and Lyssa.
"We need more light!" Hermione croaked in fear. Lyssa was glad she was at least able to think quickly while she was this scared. "I could build a fire," she pondered, "But there's no wood."
"You're a witch for Merlin's sake!" Ron snapped.
"Oh! Yes, sorry - Lumos Maxima." The glow from Hermione's wand increased tenfold but she still needed to direct it at the plant to draw it back enough for them to escape. She had to be quick too, Lyssa could feel the tendrils start to find purchase around her throat.
"Over here 'Mione," Ron beckoned. Lyssa let out a strangled sort of gasp in response to this.
"Hermione get Lyssa first," Harry told her, Hermione paused for a second contemplating if Ron's discomfort was a higher priority than Lyssa's life. "She's gonna die, Hermione!" Harry yelled. This snapped Hermione out of her trance and she moved to help Lyssa. Soon all of them were freed and they were moving towards the next obstacle.
Behind the door, they found hundreds of birds, actually, they were not birds. Lyssa looked closer, they were keys with wings. She looked across the room at the far door, sure enough, it housed a very large keyhole below the handle. Two brooms sat against the wall where they stood. The task was obvious, catch the right key.
At first, Ron argued it should be him and Harry on the brooms, he pointed out he had much more experience as he had been flying all his life. But a glare from Harry and a swift elbow from Hermione was all he needed to concede the broom to Lyssa.
It was easy to locate the correct key and some fancy flying from the two first-year quidditch stars made it pretty easy to catch too. Soon enough they were back on the ground and through the next door.
This time the room contained a life-sized chessboard. Ron took the lead this time, they each choose a piece to fill in for and they began to play their way across the room. Ron was a knight, Harry a bishop, Hermione a rook, and Lyssa the king. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ron after his antics with the trapdoor, but, rather that when he suggested Lyssa take the place of a pawn it dawned on her that he might have been more than indifferent to her safety. She thought that maybe he was looking for ways to get her in trouble. She might not be doing much as the king but at least he couldn't sacrifice her. Again.
Their victory was hard won though. For every piece that Ron took it seemed that the white side took two in return. They narrowly won and, ironically, Ron had to sacrifice himself to do it. Lyssa would have been comforted by the fact he was willing to sacrifice himself as well as her if not for the worry she harboured for his condition. He was hurt, badly. Against Ron's wishes, Harry and Hermione moved forward and Lyssa remained in the chess room with Ron. Ron wanted Hermione to stay but Harry wanted her with him, just in case. So Lyssa sat on the floor with Ron in silence while she thought about what to do.
"I have to get Dumbledore," Lyssa decided, "If someone really does have the stone how is Harry going to stop them?"
"You can't just leave me here!" Ron shouted at her.
"Well, I can't bring you with me!" Lyssa cried. "You didn't even want me here remember! And I'm not doing anybody any good watching you bleed out on the floor!"
"Levitate me back then!" Ron demanded.
"I'm not that good and you know it!" Lyssa was crying, she didn't want this but it had to be done.
"Fine, run away then," Ron must have been delirious from the loss of blood, that's what Lyssa told herself as she went back the way they had come. He's scared and doesn't want to be alone, she thought as she used the broom from the key room to reascend through the trapdoor. Anything to justify leaving, she told herself.
Her mind was swimming with platitudes for her actions. She was so distracted that she ran face-first into somebody. The person placed their hands on her shoulders to steady her. Much to her surprise, when she looked up Lyssa recognized Dumbledore as the person standing in front of her.
"Oh! Professor -" Lyssa started.
"I know Miss Wiley," he said as he moved past her and into the forbidden corridor. Lyssa was surprised that the headmaster knew her name but other than that felt nothing. Seeing him, knowing that everyone would be safe, permitted Lyssa to stop for a moment.
Before she even knew she was taking advantage of that moment, however, she had collapsed on the floor of the hallway. She wept for all the things weighing on her mind, she cried out of relief, she cried in mourning for the friends she was supposed to make this year, she wept in frustration for the home she lost back in Surrey when she found out that she was a witch, and she cried out of exhaustion. This year had been so much harder than she admitted and even if what was waiting for her in Surrey wasn't the home she remembered she wanted to go home so badly. It seemed like hours had gone by when Lyssa finally lost consciousness lying on the floor of the castle.
𝀈𝀈𝀈
The end-of-year feast was a celebration indeed. Quirrell was dead, though most people assumed he had just been sacked, the stone was safe, and Slytherin had won the house cup. Lyssa could quite find it in her to celebrate though.
The Slytherins still didn't like her, even if she had helped win the quidditch cup for their house, but, this was not what weighed on her mind. No, it was the fact that Ron, Hermione and even Harry had not spoken to her since the events of that night. She had thought she'd done everything right, she helped save the day did she not? But maybe that's not what they saw, maybe the only thing they remembered her doing was running away and leaving Ron alone in the chess room. Even if this was necessary it might still have been harsh. Or maybe they were just looking for an excuse to go back to hating her, she was a Slytherin after all, she couldn't actually be a good person right? She was still deep in contemplation when Dumbledore stood to address the hall.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are a little fuller than they were - you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...
"Now as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding and the points stand thus: in fourth place Gryffindor with three hundred and thirty-two points; in third, Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty-five points; Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin four hundred and sixty-two."
The cheers from the Slytherin table could have been mistaken for thunder the way they boomed across the hall. Lyssa could see the defeated looks on Harry and his friends' faces. It made her feel a little bit better.
"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account." The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.
"Ahem," said Dumbledore, "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...
"First, to Miss Lyssa Wiley," Lyssa was still with shock as the Slytherins turned to look at her. "For her ability to put her morals above her personal allegiances, I award Slytherin house thirty points." The Slytherins breathed a tentative sigh of relief. They didn't know what was coming.
"Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley," Dumbledore continued, "For the best-played game of chess this school has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor fifty points." Lyssa could see from across the room that Ron had turned a rather unattractive shade of purple as the Gryffindors cheered for him.
"Third, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." The Slytherins were whispering to each other trying to figure out what was happening.
"Fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter." The room went deadly quiet. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."
The cheers were deafening. Anyone who could do basic sums had realized that Slytherin and Gryffindor were now tied. Why couldn't Dumbledore have just given her the same points as Hermione and Ron, Lyssa thought? That would have been fair. Dumbledore raised his hand and the room went silent.
"There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore began. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends," Lovely, Lyssa thought, Slytherin was definitely going to lose. "I, therefore, award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor House."
The cheers were so loud Lyssa covered her ears, every other house was celebrating Slytherin's downfall. The decorations faded from emerald and silver to scarlet and gold. The feast took place and everyone but the Slytherins had a great time.
𝀈𝀈𝀈
The next afternoon Lyssa sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Her nose was buried in a book and she spent all day praying nobody would come sit with her. Her prayers were in vain however because an hour or so before they reached London the door to the compartment opened. Lyssa hesitantly closed her book as Marcus Flint sat down across from her.
"It's not your fault Lyssa," he told her. She didn't have to ask what he meant.
"Maybe it is," she whispered, a tear escaped her eyes and fell down her face. "Maybe if I had done better, if I had helped more down there, if I had gone with Harry it would have been different." She was fully crying now.
"Maybe it would have been," Flint mused, "But maybe it wouldn't," he continued, "All I know is at the end of the day I don't believe Slytherin was ever gonna win this year."
"What do you mean?" Lyssa wiped her cheek.
"I mean that the moment Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor they were going to win." Flint explained, when Lyssa still looked confused he added, "I know you've been told the war is over, and it is, but I'm sure you've noticed people still don't trust us Slytherins. It doesn't matter that we were born into the war, that we were infants when it was fought, our parents made sure that Slytrherins would always be the enemy...
"So of course when, Harry Potter, a boy whose been deified since he was a baby for ending a war he can't even remember, was sorted into Gryffindor they had to win. It was just a big middle finger to everyone they still believe to be on the wrong side of history."
"That's really childish," Lyssa said.
"Yeah, it is," Flint agreed, "But all we can do is take it in stride and try harder the next time. So next time you get a chance to prove yourself, give 'em hell, Wiley." Lyssa nodded and Flint returned to the hallway.
Lyssa pondered everything that her second year at Hogwarts could bring, whatever it was Flint was right, she would take it in stride, she would build herself up with every stone that was thrown at her and when she was done everyone would understand what it really meant to be a Slytherin. Next year she would give them hell and screw anyone who got in her way.