Amaryllis took a seat across from Harry at the Gryffindor table Sunday morning. Ron and Hermione chorused their hellos, as did a few others she had talked with a few times. She responded curtly with a small smile while she filled her plate with some food.
Her gaze flicked to Harry across from her
“Lissie? What’s wrong?”
Amaryllis didn’t speak for a second, taking a breath before she turned to her brother. “Want to tell me about the three-headed dog?”
Harry’s eyes grew wide and his head snapped to Ron’s. The latter shook his head with the same look.
“Yes,” Amaryllis said, rolling her eyes at the same time. “Hermione told me. You thought to keep something like that from me? A three-headed dog; like Cerberus, inside the castle?”
“Is that all you care about? That we found something from those myths?”
“Is that all?” She mocked, stabbing her food with her fork. Her narrowed eyes turned to Harry, hurt and anxiety at the forefront of the anger that he kept it from her at the surface. “You could have been hurt, or killed. And you didn’t think to even tell me? Or that you didn’t bother to tell me you went to seek out what Hagrid took out of Gringotts?” Her expression softened. “If me being around is too much, just tell me. I’ll leave you to your friends.”
“Liss,” Harry whispered. She wasn’t sure what kind of face he expressed, but his voice shook slightly. “That’s not… I didn’t want you to get hurt anymore.”
Amaryllis met her brother’s gaze. It was torn between sorrow, shame, and… guilt. He felt guilt over something he had no control over. None of them did. “Because of the lightning? It was a freak accident, Harry. Not something any of us could have controlled.”
His gaze dropped to her arm which was covered by her uniform.
She shifted in her seat, grabbing her arm with her other hand. Even with the chatter around them, the silence felt thick and deafening. No words had to fall from Harry’s lips for her to feel the impact of what his gaze meant.
“Oh, for Godric’s sake, Harry,” Hermione mumbled, slamming her book shut.
“I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, Lissie.”
“It’s fine,” she mumbled, giving her brother the best smile she could muster.
It stung that her brother thought she couldn’t handle whatever he had going on because she had been injured. It had never stopped them from telling each other anything before. And she thought it never would have, yet since they had been at Hogwarts, so much had changed.
“Liss–”
Harry was cut off by the sound of screeching owls that flew in from the open windows above the Great Hall.
Amaryllis scowled at the owls and mumbled under her breath. “Just great.”
“I still don’t get what you have against owls,” Ron said, creasing the lines in his forehead as they all watched the owl stare at her in silence while Harry took the letter from its talon.
“You and me both, Ron. Pesty little bug—Hey,” Amaryllis cried out when it opened its beak and screeched at her, stretching its wings out. “See? They’ve never liked me.”
“You were about to insult it,” Hermione chimed in. She had already gone back to reading the book again while eating.
“They started it.”
“It’s from Hagrid,” Harry announced softly, reading the contents of the letter. “Inviting us for a cup of tea later. You too, Liss. Said he didn’t want to send an owl to you and have… well…”
“Be attacked by an owl? I’m good on that.” Amaryllis smiled gently at Hagrid’s kindness and that he remembered her dislike of owls. Or their dislike for her in general. She never had a problem with them before, though she had never seen an owl until it arrived on a branch outside their window. But their dislike for each other was now mutual. And Amaryllis had every right to dislike the animal for biting her for no reason.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“I’m telling you, Snape is behind it all,” Harry ranted for what Amaryllis felt was the fifth time.
Amaryllis blew out a frustrated breath. “You’ve said that. But I don’t see it.”
No matter how many times any of them said it, Amaryllis didn’t see Professor Snape in the same light. Sure, he needed to be punched in the face for the way he treated students, but it didn’t mean he was actively out to kill them. There was no doubt in the suspicion that surrounded Professor Snape’s leg that he had covered up what looked like a scratch that Harry informed her of as they walked down to Hagrid’s. One that would have come from a large dog when the teachers arrived at the girls’ bathroom after Hermione knocked the troll out. She knew what Harry had meant by that; that the three-headed dog was the one to inflict the wound and Professor Snape was trying to get below the trap door they had seen the night they snuck out of their dorms. It was surprising that she hadn’t noticed it, but then again, she guessed narrowly not being crushed by a troll trumped worries about whatever Dumbledore had thought to hide inside the school.
Even she had questions about how dangerous whatever it was that the professors thought a school with a bunch of students was the safest place to hide it—even with Dumbledore. Was there no one else competent enough to keep it safe?
If not, they were poorly incompetent to have a school as the safest place available that endangered its students. Which surely seemed to be closer than she liked.
“Then who else, Lissie? Snape has had it out for me from day one. You can’t possibly think it isn’t him.”
Professor Quirrel’s face appeared in her mind. There was nothing else she had to go by than the feeling she got every time she was around him. She just didn’t like the professor. “What about Professor Quirrel? He also sat behind Professor Snape during Quidditch. He might not have been mumbling, but he is the professor of the dark arts.”
“Wandless magic isn’t easy,” Hermione added, not lifting her head from the book she read at the table. “Not many witches or wizards can perform it. Besides, Snape was muttering while keeping eye contact with Harry’s broom. It had to be him.”
“Did you even look at another teacher, Hermione?” Her silence and crestfallen expression had given her the answer. “It’s also not impossible for it to be Quirrel, either.”
Hermione glanced between them all but didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to because no matter how small of a chance, it was still a possibility.
“It’s not, Lissie,” Harry concluded. His tone left her no room to argue, and she wouldn’t. She had thrown it out there and her thoughts, but her brother was stuck on the one who had it out for him. She couldn’t blame him for disliking Professor Snape, but she hated how he based everything around it being him without trying to assess everything openly.
Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “Fine. If that’s how you see it, then I won’t say anything else.” She picked up her pace, walking further ahead of Harry and Ron. Hermione followed not long after walking beside her and glanced back.
“You know he might not be wrong, right?”
“It’s not—” Amaryllis sighed. Her jaw tightened to reign the irritation she felt at being ignored by her brother. There was more than the suspicion she felt toward Professor Quirrel that made her push her theory. “He won’t listen to any other theory than what he has put into his head. He doesn’t like Professor Snape, but Professor Quirrel doesn’t sit right with me either. There’s just something about him that feels… off.” She didn’t know how to describe the feeling she got from him, but that was the only way she could put it into words.
“I…” Hermione began. She glanced away, pursing her lips and her eyebrows lowered slightly. It was something Amaryllis noticed about Hermione when she got lost in her thoughts and tried to put them into words. “He’s a good professor, and I wish I could say the same as you. I just don’t see it, Rhylie.”
Amaryllis sighed, eyeing Hagrid’s stone hut from where they were. Smoke rose from the chimney on the moss-covered roof. Wooden-framed windows were seated nearly as tall as them, sinking into the stone. Hagrid’s form moved around inside, seeming nervous. He stopped, twisted around, and headed back the way he came as his hands went from one thing to another.
Harry knocked on the door after they made it up the stone stairs, leading to the wooden door.
It opened, revealing Hagrid’s large frame that blocked out everything behind him. His brown eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. He glanced down at his hands and brushed them across his leather vest and shirt. “Wasn’t expecting ya so soon. But yer here. Come in, come in. Got a pot of water on. Thought it a bit of a celebration for your first game, ‘arry.”
Amaryllis stepped in after Harry and Ron, followed by Hermione. The door clicked shut behind them while she took in the small area Hagrid lived in. It was… cozy for a place that set the internal alarms off in her mind. Her muscles tightened as if something would jump at her any second. Which was absurd in itself because she knew none of them would harm her. Maybe it was the tallness of someone that peered down at her? Or the gentle way Hagrid smiled at anyone; literally anyone. Amaryllis couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there the moment she met Hagrid and she had done everything to ignore that feeling as she got to know him.
A pot boiled over an open fire to her right and the table was set with five cups that she was surprised to find surprisingly smaller than what she expected Hagrid to keep in his hut. The chairs, however, were large. The sofa, being no exception, was large enough to swallow two of them in its cushions, which Hermione had quickly jumped and sat into. Amaryllis took a seat next to Ron on a bench by the window while Harry sat at the table with Hagrid.
“Congratulations are in order, ‘arry. First game and you won it,” Hagrid said, passing out the steaming cups of tea he had made.
Amaryllis took hers, surprised by the feel of the warm cup that held the scolding liquid that steamed in front of her. She glanced up at Hagrid as Ron questioned it openly next to her.
“It was luck, really. I had thought I lost it there for a moment when my broom was jinxed.”
Hagrid frowned. “Jinxed? Now who would want to do that?”
Harry spoke before Amaryllis could get a word in. “Professor Snape.”
“Now, why would Professor Snape do somethin’ like that?”
“I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid,” Hermione said. “And one has to keep eye contact when performing the jinx. And Snape was holding eye contact with Harry the whole time.”
“Cobb wash. Why would Snape do somethin’ like that?”
Amaryllis let her brother continue with the theory he had going on. “Snape was injured the night of the troll, trying to get past that three-headed dog. He’s after whatever it’s guarding.”
“How do you know about Fluffy?” Hagrid’s eyes widened, almost dropping his teacup.
“That thing has a name?” Hermione questioned, and Amaryllis found it rightfully so when she had described the dog to her.
“O’ course he does,” Hagrid replied, almost offended. “ He’s mine. Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year. Leant him to Dumbledore to guard the—”
“Yes?” Her brother asked eagerly.
“Now, don’t ask me anymore. That’s top secret, that is,” Hagrid said gruffly.
“But Snape is trying to steal it.”
“Rubbish,” Hagrid denied. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort. I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong. I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student. Now, listen to me, all four of yeh - yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’. That’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicholas Flamel—” Hagrid cut himself off, glaring down at the table and Amaryllis almost felt bad for him. He looked absolutely furious with himself.
“So, there’s someone named Nicholas Flamel involved in this too?”
Amaryllis changed the subject with a questioning look she threw at her brother. She had a question of her own that was raised since Hagrid mentioned Fluffy. It was the better alternative than having to watch Hagrid drown himself in guilt as Harry hounded him with more questions she was sure Hagrid would answer eventually. At least it wouldn’t be today while she was there. “You bought Fluffy off a Greek fella? And he just happened to have a three-headed dog on hand?”
Her question seemed to surprise him. Hagrid cleared his throat. “‘ell, yeah. Something wrong with that?”
Harry squinted in her direction and Amaryllis ignored him. “I’m just curious as to how rare a three-headed dog is in the Wizarding world and how easily someone would just have them on hand to give out. Isn’t it a little strange to just meet someone with one?”
“‘ell now. They’ve got to be rare since Fluffy is the first I’ve seen. Bound to be loads where he came from I reckon.” Hagrid cleared his throat, glancing at the others.
“Hagrid?” Amaryllis quietly questioned. “What did that person look like?”
“‘ell, I didn’t see his face. Kept his hood up, but he seemed to be more than happy to give him to me.”
“Why would it matter who he got ‘im from?” Ron asked, seeming lost on her question.
“She’s like Greek mythology, Ron. Three-headed dogs were the guardians of the Underworld. Loyal to Hades alone. It would be unheard of to see one up here.”
Amaryllis stared at Hermione. She hadn’t expected Hermione to know all that. She never went into specifics when she read what she could, which meant her friend took the time away from her studies and other books to read something that held no truth.
“What?” Hermione asked, glancing at them.
Harry was the first to speak. “You’re brilliant. No one’s ever really done that for Lissie.”
“But you have,” Hermione reminded. Her cheeks grew pink as she glanced at the table, cupping the teacup in her hands.
“That’s not the same, Hermione,” Amaryllis said. “Harry didn’t have to either, but he did it anyway. And so did you. You had no interest in mythology before, and yet you read up on some of it because I talk about it in passing at times.”
“What’s Greek mythology?” Ron asked. The confusion strung across his face with irritation.
Amaryllis didn’t blame him because what wizards knew about mythology and gods that didn’t exist? They had magic already. Something that granted more than a normal person could ever wish. Who needed gods and prayers that were granted by them? It didn’t stop her from liking them though. Just because she had magic, didn’t mean she had to give up the admiration she had for some of the gods and what they meant.
Harry and Hermione laughed while Hagrid chuckled. Ron scowled, sipping his tea, and mumbled to himself. Amaryllis left him to stew a little more before she dived a bit into who each god was, giving him time to absorb the information as she went because the family tree of the gods was something even she found astounding. She had covered the Olympians and what they represented before they had to leave. They had spent half the morning at Hagrid’s talking and Amaryllis was relieved to see the guilt slowly recede from Hagrid’s eyes when they walked out the door of his hut from the hounding Harry had thrown at Hagrid. Her brother wanted to get to the bottom of what was happening and throw Professor Snape under the bus, but she wouldn’t let him toss another’s feelings down their throat. As much as she didn’t want to get involved in matters that shouldn’t have concerned them, she couldn’t let her brother do it alone.
Amaryllis stared up at the castle as they walked back, wondering just what they had come to school for. To learn? Or be used? Maybe both. Either way, she didn’t like it.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“How did it go?”
Susan was sitting on one of the couches in the common room with Carissa in her lap and Amaryllis joined her. Her lovely traitor of a cat peeked open one eye and closed it again. Olivia, Amelia, Sasha, and were nowhere in sight. She saw Justin glance over in her direction when she walked in, but he was engaged in a conversation with Ernie and another Hufflepuff she didn’t know. A few others were scattered around the common room, chatting and laughing over something they discussed.
“It was good. Save for my brother digging for information and not wanting to hear theories other than his own.”
Susan shifted to face her. “Really? But, why not? You’re his sister.”
Amaryllis shrugged. “Once he sets his mind on something, it’s hard to change it. Even if he is wrong.”
“That’s rough. So, what was it this time?”
Amaryllis peered around her quickly, finding everyone still engaged in their own worlds, barely paying the two of them attention. Yet she felt it wasn’t right to speak of what Harry’s suspicions were, let alone her own. “The same old. Though, after their match, he’s all that more set on the same theory than the one I suggested.”
“Well, I can see why he would, but that doesn’t mean he should have thrown away what you said so easily.”
“Because I have nothing more than a feeling. It’s not the same as hard evidence, even if he is a good teacher.”
Susan rested a hand on her arm, staring at her with an expression that spoke volumes of the same loyalty she felt toward her, her friends, and her brother. “Well, if it means anything, I believe you. My parents always said to trust your gut and go with what you feel is right. I trust you. If something doesn’t feel right, then I’ll be there to back you up on it.”
“Thanks, Susan. I know Hermione was coming around to the idea, but I can’t be sure if she thinks along the lines of Harry or mine more. But I don’t have a choice in not doing anything since I know what he’ll do.”
“You don’t think…”
“I know he will. All three of them will, and I can’t let them do it by themselves. Hermione is smart, but I won’t forgive myself if I let them do it alone because my theory doesn’t align with my brother’s.”
“I’m here if you need anything. So won’t O—”
Amaryllis cut her off, quickly glancing around, and lowered her voice. “I’d rather not get them involved if I can help it. Not until I know how dangerous this truly is.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain everything later before we go to bed.”
Their conversation had been safe up to that point, but there was no way for her to tell Susan about the three-headed dog, Fluffy, and Harry’s intention to stop Professor Snape from stealing it without coming out and saying it. Not with so many other students around. She couldn’t guarantee one of them coming up to them and overhearing what she said.
The other question she knew Susan would help with was Nicholas Flamel. None of them, even Hermione, knew who he was. She trusted Susan to not speak a word of it, and that was something she didn’t take lightly.
A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner. I had 3/4 of this written and felt like shit for 3 weeks, so not much writing got done in that time.
I realized I made a mistake of Draco joining the Quidditch team sooner than he was supposed to, but you also can't tell me he wouldn't have written his father about Harry being a first-year and nothing being done about it. So, by default, Dumbledore would have had to allow Draco to join and the unnamed (that I know of) seeker, stepping down from a letter Lucius would have written.