My One and Only

Chapter 7 - Year 1

MAIA TOSSED A GRAPE INTO THE AIR, leaning back to catch it in her mouth. Frost covered the windows, making the Gryffindor common room appear dark, despite the light from the fire roaring in the fireplace. Hermione sat beside Maia on the couch, scribbling out an essay that wouldn't be due for two weeks, while Ron was sprawled out on the floor, drooling on his own half finished homework. Harry had left to retrieve his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that Snape had confiscated that morning, leaving his friends in the empty common room.

The lazy atmosphere vanished as the portrait swung open and Harry toppled in, his eyes wide and his face pale.

"What happened?" Maia asked, hurrying to her brother's side, immediately assessing him for injury. Their previous spat had been long forgotten and Harry was glad to have his protective sister back.

"Did you get the book?" Ron asked, blinking blearily and wiping drool from his chin.

"No." Harry said, his eyes locking on his sister in a way that made her skin prickle.

"What happened?" she asked again, following him as he settling onto the sofa, curling and uncurling his fingers nervously.

"When I went to get my book back, I saw Snape and Filch in Snape's office. Filch was bandaging Snape's leg." Harry shuddered. "It was bloody and torn up. I've never seen anything like it."

"Do you think he got attacked by something in the forest?" Hermione asked, her essay shoved off to the side and forgotten. Harry shook his head.

"Before he saw me, I heard him say something about being unable to get past its three heads." He paused, looking at his friends in turn to make sure they were following him. Unfortunately, Maia was.

"Harry you can't seriously be suggesting that-"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting." Harry said, nodding firmly. "Snape is after whatever it is that dog is guarding. I bet you he let the troll out on Halloween as a diversion so he could sneak into the forbidden corridor!"

Hermione's eyes were wide and her jaw slack as she listened to Harry speak, mirroring Maia's feelings. "Harry, he wouldn't. he may not be the nicest person, but he's not evil. He's not after something Dumbledore wants to protect."

"Not all teachers are saints, Hermione." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Harry's right. The question is, what is he after? What's that thing guarding?"

Maia left her friends quickly, wanting no part with their half backed conspiracies. She'd rather worry about her first Quidditch match the next morning, than their teacher's supposed evil plots. Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought of the next day's activities as she laid awake that night. Her nerves kept her from sleeping, as every time she closed her eyes, she saw herself getting bludgeoned by a bludger and Slytherin winning the game. Normally, she wouldn't care so deeply for a sport, but Oliver had spent the past few months drilling it into her and Harry that Gryffindor had to win. If they didn't, he'd surely die. McGonagall wasn't much better, as she seemed just as keen to grind Slytherin into the dirt.

Hermione practically had to shove food down the Potters' throats at breakfast, insisting they needed their strength. Maia ate to appease her friend, ignoring the way her stomach churned and pushing the fear of vomiting to the back of her mind. Fred and George were seated across from her, mumbled their own form of encouragement which ranged from. "People rarely die playing Quidditch." And "If you'll lucky you'll only get slightly maimed." They finally shut up when their friend, Angelina Johnson, who was one of the other Gryffindor chasers, slapped them upside the head and offered Maia an encouraging smile.

"You'll do just fine." She said. "From the way Oliver's talked about you, you're a natural. There's nothing to worry about. Slytherin plays dirty, but other than that, they're pushovers. No talent at all."