"If you're the lord, what does that make me? The lady?"
The war is over and all seems to be going minimally well until everything comes crashing back down for Adhara to the point where she would trade her existence to fix everything that had gone wr...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
“I'd like to read now,” asked Lily Evans, waiting for Pandora to pass her the book so she could read it. “Chapter sixteen: Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback.”
“A dragon?” Lord Nott questioned with a raised eyebrow, already expecting the worst, knowing that in that future Dumbledore was the one pulling the strings, the figure in charge from the shadows.
“It's not that bad,” Draco reassured him as Hadrian snorted. “Hey, you being idiots isn't my problem. No one asked you to butt in.”
“Day's right,” nodded Deimos and Adhara at the same time as they smirked at the golden trio who snorted indignantly as they lay back with mock annoyance and flushed cheeks.
However, Quirrell must have been braver than they had thought. In the weeks that followed he grew thinner and paler, but his will did not seem to have given way.
Every time they passed through the third floor corridor, Harry, Ron and Hermione would lean their ears against the door to see if Fluffy was growling in there. Snape was still in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was safe. Every time Harry passed Quirrell, he gave him an encouraging smile, and Ron told everyone not to laugh at the Professor's stuttering.
“No wonder they started being so nice,” Lord Slytherin muttered with a low chuckle as an amused smile creased his lips.
“Well, they didn't get a divine message saying you were the next Messiah,” Adhara replied the same way.
Hermione, however, had other things on her mind besides the Philosopher's Stone. She had started making revision schedules and underlining her notes in different colours. Harry and Ron wouldn't have minded, but she nagged them all the time to do the same.
“Hermione, exams are ages away.”
“Ten weeks,” Hermione replied. “That's not ages, that's a second to Nicolas Flamel.”
“But we, normal mortals, don't live for several centuries,” complained Sirius and James at the same time as Remus sighed, they were always like that when exam time approached.
Sometimes he considered it a miracle that they passed their exams at all, as lazy and carefree as they could be.
“But we're not six hundred years old,” Ron reminded her. “Why are you revising anyway, if you already know everything?”
“What am I revising for? Are you crazy? Have you realised that we have to pass these exams to get into second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what happened to me…”
Actually, she did know. The search for Nicolas Flamel and the mystery of the trapdoor. If it hadn't been for that, she would be up to date with her revision and wouldn't be worrying so much.
