The Life of Bells Potter PART ONE

25) Avada Kedavara

So. Right after dinner, I changed into jeans and a lumpy jacket, and I slipped out. I almost got caught by Peeves who was causing havoc on the first floor, and a disgruntled Fat Friar was trying to calm him down.

I went outside, creeping behind Hagrid's Hut, my shoes crinkling the dead leaves. Hagrid was singing loudly to his dog Fang and did not even turn his head as I disappeared into the woods.

There was a well-trodden trail that led right into the heart of the forest. The trees swished and swayed, their branches shaking in the night. It was spooky, but ghosts or paranormal things never scared me.

As I went ahead, I heard owls hooting and wolves howling. I gripped my wand tightly illuminating my path ahead.

I heard something unusual. It was like cloth ruffling against the ground. I strayed from the path and went towards the odd sound.

It was then that I saw what Harry saw. A mysterious figure draped in a cloak, hooded. It seemed in a hurry to get to the castle.

I did not think, like Harry, that it would be Snape.

"Stop!" I raised my wand at it.

The figure loomed five feet in front of me.

The figure then removed its hood, and I stumbled.

It was a man with two faces.

One was Quirrell. The other was a disfigured one.

"Isabella Potter..." Quirrell faced me and crooned.

"You!" I stood defiantly, "And my name is Bells Potter."

"Isabella?" Another voice, the other head spoke softly, "Let me speak to her."

Quirrell turned around unwillingly. I could now see the deformed face. It was a ghastly Voldemort.

"You filthy girl," He started scathingly, "Do not interfere with matters that do not concern you."

Voldemort inhaled heavily, but that only angered me even more.

Quirrell faced me once more, but before he could do anything I cried, "Stupefy!"

Quirell was thrown off guard by my feeble attempt. It was supposed to be a stunning spell, advanced for my age.

He laughed, "Poor eleven-year-old Bells Potter! You're nothing without your brother!"

Fuming I cried once more, "Stupefy!"

This time Quirrell fell down and jumped to his feet immediately.

"Kill her..." Voldemort rasped.

I thought wildly. I had been a rash Gryffindor, Fred's words booming in my head. Now, I was dying because of a stupid decision taken due to vengeance.

I held my wand aloft and cast a shield around me. Quirrell smiled menacingly and said the Avada Kedavara. The Killing Curse...

But the spell backfired somehow. It sent him to the ground on his knees, his wand rolling somewhere in the grass. His face was half burnt, with red-orange blotches of flesh visible. 

He shouted in terrible agony; "You foolish..." Quirrell felt for his wand, "You delayed me! Arrgh!"

He put on his cloak and vanished behind the trees.

***