I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

Chapter 11: You Knew

My eyes began to creep open slowly, I winced at the sudden brightness. All I could see was the ceiling of the room that Harry and I were just in, battling the man that murdered our parents. I tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot through my lungs, causing me to cough. The sudden noise alerted whoever else was in the room that I was awake and I felt a figure rushing to my side.

Fred's face appeared in the corner of my eyesight and I smiled a huge smile up at him. I knew already that he would lecture me about going off by myself as soon as he knew I was back in good shape, so there was no point in holding back on my cockiness anymore.

"Hey. Hi. How are you feeling? Do you need help getting up? Actually no, you should stay lay down until Hermione and Ron get back with a teacher." Fred began rambling.

"I feel like shit." There was no point lying, him and George would see straight through it.

"You look like it too," George's familiar voice sounded out from where I assumed Harry was lay.

"Thankyou very much George." I tried to laugh but felt a strong pain in my chest again.

I inhaled sharply and clutched my chest. As my other hand found it's way to my pounding head. On my thigh, I felt another hand pulling my shorts up slightly to examine my wound. This strange feeling made me slightly pull myself up until I was resting on my elbows, nearly head butting Fred as I did so.

"Careful," He warned me, grabbing my shoulders to help me sit completely upright.

"Looks bad," George didn't look at me, he just continued to try and dust dirt out of the large laceration across my leg.

"They might have to take your leg off you know. Then you could get a cool wooden leg like a pirate or something." Fred joked but it just made me panic.

"Is it really that bad?" My eyes couldn't focus and I felt tears threatening to spill out of my eyes as George accidentally dusted my leg a bit too harshly.

"Sorry," George started, this time looking me in my eyes, "And I don't know. The cut looks pretty deep. You'll probably need stitches. I don't think they will cut your leg off but you will definitely have a wicked scar."

Just as I was about to say something, we heard footsteps pounding down the stairs. Thank God. It was Ron and Hermione, and they brought teachers. Thank God.

Slowly, I felt my eyes closing again despite me trying my best to keep them open. My upper body fell down against Fred as I lost control of it. I was still conscious and aware of my surroundings, but I just couldn't move or open my eyes anymore. The pain had taken over me completely. Was this what death was like?

I felt myself being lifted up, pressing against whoever was carrying me. I tried over and over to move so that I didn't have someone doing things for me. It made me feel helpless, powerless. I was independent and I hated that I was now unable to do anything.

《☆•●•♡ one hour time skip ♡•●•☆》

It wasn't long before Madame Pomfrey had helped me regain my ability to move and open my eyes, but my leg was still deeply wounded and my head had a small cut. Thankfully, Harry was going to be alright, he was just knocked out for a bit while his wounds were being stitched up. It was a miracle that either one of us survived, nevermind both of us.

Seeing as I was the only one conscious, I was explaining to Dumbledore what had happened, along with Hermione, Ron, Oliver and the twins. They told them everything they knew, before turning towards me.

"Miss Potter, can you tell us what happened after you and Mr Potter left the others?" McGonagall inquired.

"Quirrell. And Volde-"

"We do not speak his name in my wing," I was sternly interrupted by Madame Pomfrey.

"Right, sorry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Professor Quirrell was the one who let the troll in. He was the one who was trying to get the Philosopher's Stone. He was acting as a...sort of host for Volde-, him. Quirell was doing all of his bidding for him. He tried to kill Harry and I once he realised I had the stone. But.....something strange happened, he turned to ash when Harry and I touched his skin. And well, I think he's dead now. We killed him didn't we?" I explained.

"His soul was already dead before you and your brother got to him." Dumbledore assured me.

"I guess. After that, Harry and I thought that was it but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rose from Quirrell's ashes. I think it was his soul or something. Like what we discovered in the Forest on the night we had detention. Whatever it was, passed through Harry and I, right through our chests. Completely knocked us flat. That's why we were both unconscious when you found us."

"I see," McGonagall bowed her head and looked at Dumbledore with worried eyes.

"Now, now Minerva. No need to panic. All will be fine." Dumbledore assured her before the two of them left to talk to Madame Pomfrey about something.

"So I was correct in my mistrust towards that....fool then? Thankyou Miss Potter for confirming that." Snape seethed.

"To be honest Professor we thought it was you for a while." George laughed, earning a slap on the upper arm from Hermione.

"How very interesting Mr Weasley," He looked at each one of us individually before turning to follow the Headmaster.

"Sir, um, Professor. I actually need to talk to you." I shouted after him, sitting up slightly.

Everyone's heads turned towards me including Snape's, each of them confused as the other. He nodded his head and gestured for everyone else to leave.

"You knew."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Savannah." He raised an eyebrow suspiciously, looking down at me.

"That day near Christmas. You started to call me Miss Potter and stopped yourself, but that was before we knew, and way before anyone found out. So I ask you Sir, how did you know and who else knew?" I challenged him.

"Why would you trust my answer anyway? You and your little group of incels already thought that I was doing the Dark Lords bidding."

"You're avoiding the question Professor." I smirked cockily at him.

"All of the Professors knew. We were all informed the second you arrived here, Potter." I think I noticed him cringe but I couldn't be sure of anything.

When I stayed silent, looking at my hands, he took it as his cue to leave. And that's exactly what he did, or at least tried to do.

"For what it's worth, Professor," I started as he reached the doorway, causing him to stop in his tracks but he didn't turn to face me, "I tried to tell them it wasn't you. I told them it was Quirrell from the start. They didn't believe me. I did defend you though."

And that was when he finally turned to face me, and he smiled. It was brief but it was there. Then he began to leave again, this time I didn't stop him though. I just sat in bed looking at the stars through the giant windows beside me.

A/N:

I'm aware that it was short, but I got shit I gotta do. Already spent way more time on this than I planned to. The chapters will vary in length but with exam season coming up, expect them to be around about the same length as this one.

I haven't proof-read this chapter yet but I will do, so if there are mistakes I will edit them later.

I'm trying my best here, I just hope y'all can see that. Stay safe. Xoxo

Word count: 1352