Chapter Forty-Seven

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Harry Potter, you are in so much trouble. Just wait till you get home. Three first years fighting a mountain troll on their own? That was absolutely stupid. I can't believe you. You'd better be careful, or you'll find yourself expelled.
And no, Harry, Professor Snape is not after this stone you're looking for. Please stop accusing people without all the facts. And don't look for this stone. Nicholas Flamel was a great alchemist, but you're not to go after this. Whatever the reason, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore can handle it.
You had better start behaving.
Be careful, Harry. I love you.
Love,
Eliza

We didn't mean to fight the mountain troll. We were looking for Hermione, because she hadn't been around when we were told about it. We all three made it okay. And we're even friends with Hermione now. Did Snape tell you about that?
I promise you, Mum. Snape's after the stone. He wants it for Voldemort. He's back, Mum.
We were out in the forest with Hagrid for detention. I saw him feeding on a unicorn.
Do you know how Dad's doing?
Love, Harry

Several people told me, actually. Snape claims it was reckless and stupid and I'm inclined to agree.
Forget about the bloody stone, Harry. Forget you ever heard of it. Snape isn't after it. Be kind to him, Harry. Please. He really is a good man.
But as for Voldemort, you're safest where you are. Voldemort is scared of Dumbledore. Hogwarts is the safest place for you.
I haven't heard from Sirius, no. It's kind of difficult to keep up correspondence. I expect he's doing okay.
Are you doing all right?

If you're so buddy-buddy with Snape, would you mind telling him to stop being an arse? The whole school would appreciate it.
You may think Snape a good man, but I disagree. He's been nothing but rude and cruel. He's after the stone, Mother. I swear.
I don't care about me being safe. Hermione agrees that Hogwarts is the safest place. I don't doubt it. But not everybody is in Hogwarts. You and Moony aren't. Dad isn't. Mrs. Weasley isn't.
Ron's found Scabbers, by the way. He showed up in the middle of the night and scared us all.

I asked you a question, Harry. Are you okay?

I'm fine. Just really busy with school.

I sat in the Hospital Wing towards the end of the year, looking at Harry, asleep on a bed, Dumbledore by my side.
"Who brought him a toilet seat?" I asked.
"The Weasley twins, of course." Dumbledore smiled.
My intentions had been to check on Ron as well, but he had been released by the time I got here. I ran into Hermione on my way, and she told me the whole story.
Harry's eyes fluttered open. I crossed my arms to look angry. "Harry James Potter. What did I tell you?" I asked.
"Not to do exactly what I did. It was Quirrell!" He said to Dumbledore.
"Calm down or Madame Pomfrey'll make us leave." I warned.
"Yes, I know."
"How did he not kill me?"
I listened as Dumbledore explained about Lily. That was a story Sirius and I always tried to avoid telling. We told about when he was born, when James and Lily got married, when we got married, and Sirius even told about some of the boys' escapades in their "younger days," but this one we hardly ever told.
I stepped away when I felt tears prick my eyes. This was a moment during which I could not afford to cry. When I saw Dumbledore walking away, I went and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. He sat up, and I touched his cheek, tears burning my eyes again as I pulled him into a hug.
"Mum?" He asked as I let him go.
"What, love?"
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, but I just couldn't let Quirrell--"
"I know, baby. I'm proud of you."
"Out." Madame Pomfrey said briskly. "He needs rest. He'll be home soon."
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey." I said. That thank you was for more than just Harry.
She gave me a soft smile and a curt nod as she ushered me out. "I'll see you at home." I called as the door closed and she pushed me out, right into somebody. "Oh, I'm sorry. I--" I began, but paused when I saw who it was. "Se--Snape." I stepped back.
"Eliza." He nodded curtly, clasping my hand behind his robe quickly.
I cast a quick look around to make sure nobody was around before giving him a quick hug.
"I'm sorry. I tried." He whispered as I let him go.
"I know, Sev. Thank you. I know what happened earlier during the Quidditch game. You can't hide your inner-hero." I aimed for a smile. He is a hero.
"I suppose you've been here to see Harry?" He said as footsteps approached.
"Yes. He's doing fine. If you'll excuse me."
"Of course." He said cooly, and stepped aside.
I miss when things were simple. I miss studying with Severus and Lily first year, and James and Sirius coming up and giving us Hell. That was simple.

Sirius watched the Dementors float around and suck out everybody's happiness. He laid curled on his bed as the door to his cage was opened and a tray of food was placed just inside. There mere sigh of food made him want to throw up. It could have been a full course meal and not moldy bread and stale water and he still would have wanted to throw up. Not that he had the energy for that.
He simply laid on the hard bed, lacking the energy to even blink. He closed his eyes to avoid having to do that simple task.
The Dementors took every happy thought possible. He couldn't think about Harry, or Eliza, or Moony. Even thinking about Snape triggered happy memories, and they dissipated immediately. He fingered the sheets, debating whether or not it was worth it to make a noose.
Those thoughts were sucked from his mind too. He used to bide his time, thinking of all the ways he could kill himself--or Peter. But now even death was such a happy thought that he couldn't think it. He should have done it when he had the chance.
He opened his eyes and looked at the plate of food. He knew he needed to eat. He needed as much strength as possible for whatever tortures were in store for tomorrow. He knew he had a family to get home to.
He pulled himself from the bed and crawled across the floor to the tray, leaning against the wall. As he picked up the bread, he wondered how these people had the energy to scream.
When Moony had visited that once, he had warned him that this would be his own personal Hell, that every negative thing he'd ever been subjected to or thought would be brought up.
He fell asleep against the bars of his cell. He hadn't slept in days.

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