Year 1 – Chapter 10: The Hostage Situation
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Fulcon
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---
I couldn't decide if I was going to die or not.
"Let the boy go, Quirinus," said Dumbledore calmly.
"Go?" Quirrell asked. Then he laughed, clearly beyond his depth. From what I could tell, Voldemort had either rested his eyes or gone to sleep because of how weak he is. Quirrell was on his own.
Silver lining, if I do die, then I won't have to take the exams.
… wait, I was looking forward to those… never mind.
"Go?" Quirrell repeated. "And why would I do that, you old fool? This boy not only ruined months of work and preparation, but he insulted my Lord!"
Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me…
"A prank like this? Oh, that could be an innocent mistake, one that could be rectified by suffering the correct punishment, but an insult?" Quirrell ranted, before turning to me and pointing his wand inches from my eye. "That cannot be allowed to stand!"
"A playground insult is no justification for murder," Dumbledore replied.
"Oh, but it is!" Quirrell said, turning back to them. "And you all stay together! Snape! Flitwick! Back to Dumbledore! If I see either of you try to sneak your way up here again, I will kill him!"
I looked at him. "But then you won't have a bargaining chip, though!"
Voldemort woke up with an irritated expression, and Quirrell turned to him, his eyes filled with rage. "Shut up, mudblood! You think I wouldn't do it because of what you are?"
Immediately, I latched onto the one angle I could find. "But does Voldemort deserve to die because of a mudblood?"
Quirrell just laughed. A cold, manic laugh which made my hairs stand straight up on end.
I then remembered that Voldemort can't actually die because of the Horcruxes so that's not actually an angle.
"Marcus," Dumbledore called up to me. "Try not to speak, it cannot help you here."
"Okay."
What can I do? What can… what can I do? There's got to be something I can do!
He was dangling me over the upper floor, thankfully. I could've been dangling over the lower floor, which would've been a fifteen foot trip straight down. Must be trying to keep me out of sight because it'd be much easier for them to rescue me if they could see me.
I don't want to die.
Dumbledore had never been more calm in his delivery in his life. "I presume you want something."
"I want the Philosopher's Stone!" Quirrell stated, moving his wand to point down at all of them. "And I want all of your wands!"
"You know we cannot do that," Dumbledore replied.
I was looking around.
"But assuredly you want to save this pathetic mudblood," Quirrell stated, again, pointing his wand at me.
...and I caught sight of a large vase just sitting at the end of one of the shelves.
"Quirinus," Dumbledore began. "What happened to you? You were our muggle studies Professor." He was?!? "You thought muggle devices were fascinating and you loved teaching muggle-born students. That couldn't have all been a lie."
My hands were trembling as I forced them to go through the hand signs, desperately making sure they didn't touch, rub, or else cause unnecessary noise as I was casting my wandless spell.
"I was wrong," Quirrell retorted. "I was foolish! Muggles are good for nothing but slaves. Slaves and fodder for the dark arts!"
If my whisper was even the slightest bit too loud, I was done for. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
"My master showed me the way!"
He didn't hear. I might have a chance.
"But why would you believe him?" Dumbledore asked. "What did he say?"
"You wouldn't understand!" Quirrell said as I lifted the vase up, nearly to the ceiling, and then wrapped it around the bookcase opposite of where Quirrell was leaning against the banister.
Had to get the right angle on this, so it neither passed through Quirrell or Voldemort's field of view. Come in from the side and maybe a little bit to the front…
"Then help me understand," Dumbledore said. "Help me see why you believe the way you do."
"Help you?" Quirrell laughed. "You are my master's greatest enemy. It does not matter what I say to you, you have rejected his vision from the beginning! Now! Your wands and the Stone! Or I kill this wretch!"
Please don't, please don't, please don't, nononononnonono…
The vase had rounded the corner of the bookcase, floating forward just enough to come in out of Voldemort's vision cone. Just get this into position, pull a Weasley by dropping it on his head and then run for my life while he gets pummeled by three incredibly potent wizards.
---
Professor McGonagall returned to the Great Hall, Hermione and Ron trailing behind her, her hand stuffed into her pocket in a death grip that made her old hand seem skeletal from a distance.
"Now," Professor McGonagall said, turning upon the two. "You three will–"
It was then that she noted a very conspicuous absence. "Where's Potter?"
Ron and Hermione whirled around like they got caught in a twister, looking around.
"Harry?" Hermione called out to the entrance hall.
Professor McGonagall shrieked, "Both of you stay here!" As she marched out, she closed the doors behind her with a wave of her wand. "Harry Potter! Potter where are you? Come out now! Come back here this instant!"
Hermione was crying. "I can't believe him."
---
"Your wands!" Quirrell demanded, pointing his own in my face. "You will give them to me! Now! Or I will kill this mudblood to avenge the slight against my master's honor!"
Just a little more time.
"Quirrell, be reasonable," Dumbledore pleaded. Undoubtedly, he's seen the vase.
Quirrell started counting. "Ten!"
No, no, no…
"Nine!"
Just a little faster, vase, come on, come on…
"Eight! Seven!"
It's not going to get there in time.
"Six! Five! Four!"
I was whimpering. Was I crying? Yeah, I was crying.
"Three!"
Almost there!
"Two!"
It's not there yet!
"One!"
...no…
"Avada Ke –"
"Wait!"
To my shock and surprise, over by the stairs stood Harry Potter himself, a silvery, shimmering cloak on the ground, surrounding him like a fairy circle.
Not one to waste an opportunity, I continued pulling the vase forward.
Dumbledore sounded horrified. "Harry…"
He took a moment, stuttering to find the words, and they fell out of his mouth like loose rocks down a cliff-side. "I'm the one you want, right?" Harry said. "Take me instead. Let Sullivan go free."
Immediately, Lord Voldemort laughed, a soft, gravelly, reptilian sound. "You'd sacrifice yourself for a Slytherin, Potter?"
I could see that Harry was pale and his hands were trembling too. He was just as terrified as I was. His words came out like they were fired out of a machine gun. "He doesn't deserve to die."
"Am I not the one who decides that, Quirrell?" Voldemort asked.
"You are indeed, my lord," Quirrell replied, the wand he had pointed in my face starting to shake.
"And I'm asking you to spare him," Harry said.
...the vase was in place.
I let it go.
"And why would you–"
The vase crashed right into Quirrell's head, knocking him into the banister, and sending me straight into the floor, on my head. Ow.
Harry wasted no time, either. "Come on!" I scrambled to my feet and ran to him as he was urging, "Come on, come on! Into the cloak, come on!"
Soon, he and I were sheltered beneath the wonderful protection of the Invisibility Cloak.
Quirrell, somehow, was still conscious. "No!"
The two of us skipped the staircase, which Quirrell dived for amidst the hail of wand fire from down below.
"This way," Harry breathed out, leading us to the opposite side of the Library, where Dumbledore, Flitwick and Snape were slinging spells with my former captor.
I was whispering. "I don't believe it."
"Me neither," Harry replied, looking over his shoulder through the cloak. "Come on, we have to get out of the library."
"No arguments from me."
On the opposite staircase, we slowly walked down, watching as Professor Flitwick disintegrated the stairs Quirrell had been standing and hiding on, forcing him to the floor.
"You fool, Quirrell!" Voldemort shouted.
"I-I'm sorry, Master!"
"You should've kept a closer eye on the students!" Voldemort continued on his tirade. "You should've known what they were planning! The whole school knew! Why didn't you!"
… that's a great question! How did we keep this from Professor Quirrell? You'd think one of the other Professors at least would've told him. Wouldn't they?
Unless… someone, somewhere did us a solid.
Harry and I got to the door, and we shut it behind us, collapsing against either side of the door frame.
I looked this amazing, heroic person right in the eyes and asked him, "Why would you do that?" Before he could respond, I added, "There was no reason for us to switch hostages!"
He returned my gaze. "Because you needed more time to get that vase over his head."
Oh. I laughed. "You're a legend."
"You're a legend!" He rejoined. "You're the one who pulled that turban off!"
"Almost died for it," I said.
"And saved the whole school," Harry pointed out, wincing in pain and rubbing his scar before he continued. "Bloody brilliant. I think you're going to be the school's favorite Slytherin!"
"Well, it was a team effort."
"Best Slytherin I know, that's for sure."
"Thank you!"
"Mr. Potter!"
Running right up to us was an ashen-faced, utterly furious looking Professor McGonagall, who stopped when she caught sight of me.
I pointed at Harry. "He saved my life."
She sighed the long and dreary sigh of a tired grandmother asked to babysit a poltergeist. "Oh, did he?"
"Yeah, you should give him a thousand points to Gryffindor," I urged, nodding.
Her lips pressed into a fine line. "I'll settle for both of you joining me in the Great Hall. Without further argument."
From the library, we heard the echoes of a gravelly, demonic scream and wisps of smoke emanating from the top of the library walls.
Professor McGonagall was scared too. "Now!"
It was then that the doors opened, and there stood Albus Dumbledore.
"Albus!" Professor McGonagall called, looking relieved. "Is it – is he –?"
"Professor Quirrell has been stunned and placed in a Full Body Bind," Professor Dumbledore said as Professor Snape joined him in the doorway.
"Are you harmed, Mr. Sullivan?" Professor Snape asked.
I shook my head. "I landed on my head, I guess, but I feel fine."
He sighed, in...was that relief? Awesome!
"Mr. Sullivan, who else was a part of your prank?" Dumbledore asked.
I am not protecting them from this. No sir. They nearly got me killed, they get to suffer the consequences of this whole accursed misadventure too. "Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass. And Peeves."
"Anyone else?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
I shook my head. "No, sir."
He let out a breath. "Professor Snape, if you'd escort Mr. Sullivan to the Hospital Wing."
"Yes, sir," Professor Snape said.
"Afterwards, if you and the other heads of house would escort your students to their common rooms," Dumbledore continued.
"Albus, there is something else," Professor McGonagall said, reaching into her pocket, retrieving… it took everything in my power not to gasp and gawk at the letter which I had told the trio to destroy. "Potter and his friends received this, and were able to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone."
She slid the letter into Dumbledore's hands.
Oh nonononononono…
Dumbledore regarded the letter, blinking. "What is–?" Then, he began reading the letter, and got the answer to his own question.
Don't suspect me, don't suspect me, don't suspect me, don't suspect me…
The elderly wizard stared at the letter for a very, very long moment. I thought I was going to wet myself. Again. "I would appreciate it if the Gryffindor and Slytherin students who have been named would come to my office," he finally said, folding the letter and putting it into his pocket. "We have a great deal to discuss."
"Yes, Albus," Professor McGonagall said.
Professor Snape was squinting at the letter as if it would confess. But when it didn't, he simply gestured for me to follow him. "This way, Sullivan."
I knew better than to argue.
---
So, we were all piled up together in Dumbledore's Office.
Draco and Daphne were paler than ghosts, and I've never seen the otherwise stoic Vincent and Greg looking this shifty and nervous. For the Gryffindors, Hermione had obviously been crying, while Ron and Harry were talking to each other in hurried, frantic terms.
"Thank you all for coming," Professor Dumbledore said. "Do you know why I have called you here?"
"Because we stole the Philosopher's Stone, professor," Harry replied, causing the Slytherin students to look at him and his friends in alarm.
"Because we pranked a teacher in front of the whole school," I answered.
"Both of those things are true," Professor Dumbledore said. "But, that is not the whole truth. Harry, Ron, and Hermione? You received a letter which explained each level of security that was protecting the stone in detail, as well as how to bypass it."
The three nodded.
"That same letter also informed you that Quirrell was the one attempting to steal the stone, instead of Professor Snape," Professor Dumbledore said, laying the letter out on his desk for us to look at. "Draco, Daphne? Greg, Vincent? Marcus? Did any of you receive a letter similar to this?"
We all shook our heads.
"No sir," said Draco.
"It all seems too much of a coincidence," Dumbledore continued. "That the Stone is relocated without the staff being informed and Quirrell's identity as the first new Death Eater in a decade is exposed due to a student prank. I confess, none of us had suspected him."
I arched an eyebrow. "Why?"
"What do you mean, Marcus?" Dumbledore asked.
"He was our Muggle Studies professor, goes off on a tour to confront the dark arts, then comes back with a horrific stutter, a turban he enchanted to never come off…" I recounted, desperately trying to avoid getting a stutter of my own. "Obviously, he encountered something! Something he brought with him!"
Dumbledore, regrettably, made eye contact with me for just a moment, causing my blood to freeze in my veins. But...it was only the briefest of looks, seeing my surface concerns only. My defenses held.
I hope.
"That is true," Professor Dumbledore permitted. "Professor Snape had raised concerns that he was trying to get around the stone's defenses."
This made Harry, Ron and Hermione visibly uncomfortable.
"I had believed he was simply trying to get the stone to assuage the fears he had gathered on his tour," Dumbledore continued, stroking his beard. Is that just a thing you do when you have a beard? You stroke it? "But it is so easy to judge in retrospect, is it not?"
Had to nod at that, he's just right.
"Obviously, it had to be a member of the staff," Daphne said, looking at it. "Or...I don't know."
"Please, tell us, Ms. Greengrass," Dumbledore said.
"I feel like the writer of the letter is in the room with us," Daphne admitted.
NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.
"But that can't be right," Daphne said. "None of us could possibly have known any of this. I didn't suspect Quirrell was hosting the Dark Lord at all!"
Whew. Okay.
Dumbledore hummed to himself. "I suspect the mystery of this letter will reveal itself in time, if at all." He looked at all of us. "Now, as for the consequences of your actions." He cleared his throat. "Harry, Ron and Hermione? You three knowingly went against school rules to enter the forbidden corridor on the third floor and bypassed all safeguards to move the Philosopher's Stone to your dormitory."
He leaned forward. "In some ways, this was a brilliant way to safeguard the stone, as Quirrell would have been looking at the Mirror forever, trying to retrieve a treasure that wasn't there. However," Dumbledore turned to me. "What could Quirrell have used to discover the stone had been moved, Marcus?"
Oh, I didn't think about that.
"Legilimency, sir," I replied. At the trio's confused glances, I added, "the art of gleaning thoughts from another person."
All three of their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
"Sir," Harry began. "We just wanted to protect the stone. We didn't realize–"
"I am aware of that, Mr. Potter. I believe you acted with total sincerity," Professor Dumbledore cut in. "That is why you are not being expelled."
Harry fell silent.
"For your bravery and magnificent wizarding skills in bypassing each layer, assistance notwithstanding, I am awarding you fifty points to Gryffindor. Each," Professor Dumbledore said. "And for bravery in saving Marcus Sullivan's life, Harry, I am awarding an additional fifty points."
And just like that, they've won the house cup. Deserved, honestly.
"You will also serve six weeks detention with Hagrid," Dumbledore replied. "Breaking the rules, no matter how noble your intentions, always carries consequences. It will be up to you three to decide if it was worth it."
Harry bowed his head. "Yes, Professor."
"Now then," he turned to us Slytherins. "The five of you sought to expose dark magic for personal gain. I applaud the desire to further your ambitions through noble acts, and I would encourage you to continue to do so. For your resourcefulness, dedication and cunning in devising a way through the counter-charms protecting Voldemort's identity, I am awarding you all thirty points to Slytherin. Each."
It… didn't help our mood much. We helped disrupt the plans of Lord Voldemort, who is something of an icon in Slytherin. As far as the rest of the house is concerned, we were Persona Non Grata.
"And Mr. Sullivan, for your keeping of a cool head during a harrowing situation, and for sheer cheek in the face of unimaginable danger, I award you an additional twenty points," Dumbledore continued.
"Thank you, sir." Oh...wait, are we tied with Gryffindor?
"But you five also conspired to play a practical joke on a member of the faculty to embarrass him, and did so while believing him to be weak and compromised," Dumbledore replied. "You must learn that just because someone looks weak doesn't mean they don't have strong connections, so I am also sentencing you five to six weeks of detention to be served with Hagrid the groundskeeper."
We just shrugged. He had a good point. Wait… "Are we serving detention altogether?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I thought it appropriate, given how things have converged."
Of course Draco, Greg and Vincent were disappointed. Daphne just looked numb. Me? Well, I'd been wanting to hang out with the golden trio, and I'd been wanting to introduce myself to Hagrid for a while now, so this actually works out well for me.
Kinda.
… I'm going to be skipping breakfast again for a while.
---
Author's Note: Congrats! With Ao3 being down and FFnet being a completely malfunctioning piece of tragic garbage, you guys are the only ones who get todays chapter!
I hope you enjoyed it, and I am eagerly awaiting your comments down below.
Until the next time!
~Fulcon
---
I couldn't decide if I was going to die or not.
"Let the boy go, Quirinus," said Dumbledore calmly.
"Go?" Quirrell asked. Then he laughed, clearly beyond his depth. From what I could tell, Voldemort had either rested his eyes or gone to sleep because of how weak he is. Quirrell was on his own.
Silver lining, if I do die, then I won't have to take the exams.
… wait, I was looking forward to those… never mind.
"Go?" Quirrell repeated. "And why would I do that, you old fool? This boy not only ruined months of work and preparation, but he insulted my Lord!"
Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me…
"A prank like this? Oh, that could be an innocent mistake, one that could be rectified by suffering the correct punishment, but an insult?" Quirrell ranted, before turning to me and pointing his wand inches from my eye. "That cannot be allowed to stand!"
"A playground insult is no justification for murder," Dumbledore replied.
"Oh, but it is!" Quirrell said, turning back to them. "And you all stay together! Snape! Flitwick! Back to Dumbledore! If I see either of you try to sneak your way up here again, I will kill him!"
I looked at him. "But then you won't have a bargaining chip, though!"
Voldemort woke up with an irritated expression, and Quirrell turned to him, his eyes filled with rage. "Shut up, mudblood! You think I wouldn't do it because of what you are?"
Immediately, I latched onto the one angle I could find. "But does Voldemort deserve to die because of a mudblood?"
Quirrell just laughed. A cold, manic laugh which made my hairs stand straight up on end.
I then remembered that Voldemort can't actually die because of the Horcruxes so that's not actually an angle.
"Marcus," Dumbledore called up to me. "Try not to speak, it cannot help you here."
"Okay."
What can I do? What can… what can I do? There's got to be something I can do!
He was dangling me over the upper floor, thankfully. I could've been dangling over the lower floor, which would've been a fifteen foot trip straight down. Must be trying to keep me out of sight because it'd be much easier for them to rescue me if they could see me.
I don't want to die.
Dumbledore had never been more calm in his delivery in his life. "I presume you want something."
"I want the Philosopher's Stone!" Quirrell stated, moving his wand to point down at all of them. "And I want all of your wands!"
"You know we cannot do that," Dumbledore replied.
I was looking around.
"But assuredly you want to save this pathetic mudblood," Quirrell stated, again, pointing his wand at me.
...and I caught sight of a large vase just sitting at the end of one of the shelves.
"Quirinus," Dumbledore began. "What happened to you? You were our muggle studies Professor." He was?!? "You thought muggle devices were fascinating and you loved teaching muggle-born students. That couldn't have all been a lie."
My hands were trembling as I forced them to go through the hand signs, desperately making sure they didn't touch, rub, or else cause unnecessary noise as I was casting my wandless spell.
"I was wrong," Quirrell retorted. "I was foolish! Muggles are good for nothing but slaves. Slaves and fodder for the dark arts!"
If my whisper was even the slightest bit too loud, I was done for. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
"My master showed me the way!"
He didn't hear. I might have a chance.
"But why would you believe him?" Dumbledore asked. "What did he say?"
"You wouldn't understand!" Quirrell said as I lifted the vase up, nearly to the ceiling, and then wrapped it around the bookcase opposite of where Quirrell was leaning against the banister.
Had to get the right angle on this, so it neither passed through Quirrell or Voldemort's field of view. Come in from the side and maybe a little bit to the front…
"Then help me understand," Dumbledore said. "Help me see why you believe the way you do."
"Help you?" Quirrell laughed. "You are my master's greatest enemy. It does not matter what I say to you, you have rejected his vision from the beginning! Now! Your wands and the Stone! Or I kill this wretch!"
Please don't, please don't, please don't, nononononnonono…
The vase had rounded the corner of the bookcase, floating forward just enough to come in out of Voldemort's vision cone. Just get this into position, pull a Weasley by dropping it on his head and then run for my life while he gets pummeled by three incredibly potent wizards.
---
Professor McGonagall returned to the Great Hall, Hermione and Ron trailing behind her, her hand stuffed into her pocket in a death grip that made her old hand seem skeletal from a distance.
"Now," Professor McGonagall said, turning upon the two. "You three will–"
It was then that she noted a very conspicuous absence. "Where's Potter?"
Ron and Hermione whirled around like they got caught in a twister, looking around.
"Harry?" Hermione called out to the entrance hall.
Professor McGonagall shrieked, "Both of you stay here!" As she marched out, she closed the doors behind her with a wave of her wand. "Harry Potter! Potter where are you? Come out now! Come back here this instant!"
Hermione was crying. "I can't believe him."
---
"Your wands!" Quirrell demanded, pointing his own in my face. "You will give them to me! Now! Or I will kill this mudblood to avenge the slight against my master's honor!"
Just a little more time.
"Quirrell, be reasonable," Dumbledore pleaded. Undoubtedly, he's seen the vase.
Quirrell started counting. "Ten!"
No, no, no…
"Nine!"
Just a little faster, vase, come on, come on…
"Eight! Seven!"
It's not going to get there in time.
"Six! Five! Four!"
I was whimpering. Was I crying? Yeah, I was crying.
"Three!"
Almost there!
"Two!"
It's not there yet!
"One!"
...no…
"Avada Ke –"
"Wait!"
To my shock and surprise, over by the stairs stood Harry Potter himself, a silvery, shimmering cloak on the ground, surrounding him like a fairy circle.
Not one to waste an opportunity, I continued pulling the vase forward.
Dumbledore sounded horrified. "Harry…"
He took a moment, stuttering to find the words, and they fell out of his mouth like loose rocks down a cliff-side. "I'm the one you want, right?" Harry said. "Take me instead. Let Sullivan go free."
Immediately, Lord Voldemort laughed, a soft, gravelly, reptilian sound. "You'd sacrifice yourself for a Slytherin, Potter?"
I could see that Harry was pale and his hands were trembling too. He was just as terrified as I was. His words came out like they were fired out of a machine gun. "He doesn't deserve to die."
"Am I not the one who decides that, Quirrell?" Voldemort asked.
"You are indeed, my lord," Quirrell replied, the wand he had pointed in my face starting to shake.
"And I'm asking you to spare him," Harry said.
...the vase was in place.
I let it go.
"And why would you–"
The vase crashed right into Quirrell's head, knocking him into the banister, and sending me straight into the floor, on my head. Ow.
Harry wasted no time, either. "Come on!" I scrambled to my feet and ran to him as he was urging, "Come on, come on! Into the cloak, come on!"
Soon, he and I were sheltered beneath the wonderful protection of the Invisibility Cloak.
Quirrell, somehow, was still conscious. "No!"
The two of us skipped the staircase, which Quirrell dived for amidst the hail of wand fire from down below.
"This way," Harry breathed out, leading us to the opposite side of the Library, where Dumbledore, Flitwick and Snape were slinging spells with my former captor.
I was whispering. "I don't believe it."
"Me neither," Harry replied, looking over his shoulder through the cloak. "Come on, we have to get out of the library."
"No arguments from me."
On the opposite staircase, we slowly walked down, watching as Professor Flitwick disintegrated the stairs Quirrell had been standing and hiding on, forcing him to the floor.
"You fool, Quirrell!" Voldemort shouted.
"I-I'm sorry, Master!"
"You should've kept a closer eye on the students!" Voldemort continued on his tirade. "You should've known what they were planning! The whole school knew! Why didn't you!"
… that's a great question! How did we keep this from Professor Quirrell? You'd think one of the other Professors at least would've told him. Wouldn't they?
Unless… someone, somewhere did us a solid.
Harry and I got to the door, and we shut it behind us, collapsing against either side of the door frame.
I looked this amazing, heroic person right in the eyes and asked him, "Why would you do that?" Before he could respond, I added, "There was no reason for us to switch hostages!"
He returned my gaze. "Because you needed more time to get that vase over his head."
Oh. I laughed. "You're a legend."
"You're a legend!" He rejoined. "You're the one who pulled that turban off!"
"Almost died for it," I said.
"And saved the whole school," Harry pointed out, wincing in pain and rubbing his scar before he continued. "Bloody brilliant. I think you're going to be the school's favorite Slytherin!"
"Well, it was a team effort."
"Best Slytherin I know, that's for sure."
"Thank you!"
"Mr. Potter!"
Running right up to us was an ashen-faced, utterly furious looking Professor McGonagall, who stopped when she caught sight of me.
I pointed at Harry. "He saved my life."
She sighed the long and dreary sigh of a tired grandmother asked to babysit a poltergeist. "Oh, did he?"
"Yeah, you should give him a thousand points to Gryffindor," I urged, nodding.
Her lips pressed into a fine line. "I'll settle for both of you joining me in the Great Hall. Without further argument."
From the library, we heard the echoes of a gravelly, demonic scream and wisps of smoke emanating from the top of the library walls.
Professor McGonagall was scared too. "Now!"
It was then that the doors opened, and there stood Albus Dumbledore.
"Albus!" Professor McGonagall called, looking relieved. "Is it – is he –?"
"Professor Quirrell has been stunned and placed in a Full Body Bind," Professor Dumbledore said as Professor Snape joined him in the doorway.
"Are you harmed, Mr. Sullivan?" Professor Snape asked.
I shook my head. "I landed on my head, I guess, but I feel fine."
He sighed, in...was that relief? Awesome!
"Mr. Sullivan, who else was a part of your prank?" Dumbledore asked.
I am not protecting them from this. No sir. They nearly got me killed, they get to suffer the consequences of this whole accursed misadventure too. "Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass. And Peeves."
"Anyone else?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
I shook my head. "No, sir."
He let out a breath. "Professor Snape, if you'd escort Mr. Sullivan to the Hospital Wing."
"Yes, sir," Professor Snape said.
"Afterwards, if you and the other heads of house would escort your students to their common rooms," Dumbledore continued.
"Albus, there is something else," Professor McGonagall said, reaching into her pocket, retrieving… it took everything in my power not to gasp and gawk at the letter which I had told the trio to destroy. "Potter and his friends received this, and were able to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone."
She slid the letter into Dumbledore's hands.
Oh nonononononono…
Dumbledore regarded the letter, blinking. "What is–?" Then, he began reading the letter, and got the answer to his own question.
Don't suspect me, don't suspect me, don't suspect me, don't suspect me…
The elderly wizard stared at the letter for a very, very long moment. I thought I was going to wet myself. Again. "I would appreciate it if the Gryffindor and Slytherin students who have been named would come to my office," he finally said, folding the letter and putting it into his pocket. "We have a great deal to discuss."
"Yes, Albus," Professor McGonagall said.
Professor Snape was squinting at the letter as if it would confess. But when it didn't, he simply gestured for me to follow him. "This way, Sullivan."
I knew better than to argue.
---
So, we were all piled up together in Dumbledore's Office.
Draco and Daphne were paler than ghosts, and I've never seen the otherwise stoic Vincent and Greg looking this shifty and nervous. For the Gryffindors, Hermione had obviously been crying, while Ron and Harry were talking to each other in hurried, frantic terms.
"Thank you all for coming," Professor Dumbledore said. "Do you know why I have called you here?"
"Because we stole the Philosopher's Stone, professor," Harry replied, causing the Slytherin students to look at him and his friends in alarm.
"Because we pranked a teacher in front of the whole school," I answered.
"Both of those things are true," Professor Dumbledore said. "But, that is not the whole truth. Harry, Ron, and Hermione? You received a letter which explained each level of security that was protecting the stone in detail, as well as how to bypass it."
The three nodded.
"That same letter also informed you that Quirrell was the one attempting to steal the stone, instead of Professor Snape," Professor Dumbledore said, laying the letter out on his desk for us to look at. "Draco, Daphne? Greg, Vincent? Marcus? Did any of you receive a letter similar to this?"
We all shook our heads.
"No sir," said Draco.
"It all seems too much of a coincidence," Dumbledore continued. "That the Stone is relocated without the staff being informed and Quirrell's identity as the first new Death Eater in a decade is exposed due to a student prank. I confess, none of us had suspected him."
I arched an eyebrow. "Why?"
"What do you mean, Marcus?" Dumbledore asked.
"He was our Muggle Studies professor, goes off on a tour to confront the dark arts, then comes back with a horrific stutter, a turban he enchanted to never come off…" I recounted, desperately trying to avoid getting a stutter of my own. "Obviously, he encountered something! Something he brought with him!"
Dumbledore, regrettably, made eye contact with me for just a moment, causing my blood to freeze in my veins. But...it was only the briefest of looks, seeing my surface concerns only. My defenses held.
I hope.
"That is true," Professor Dumbledore permitted. "Professor Snape had raised concerns that he was trying to get around the stone's defenses."
This made Harry, Ron and Hermione visibly uncomfortable.
"I had believed he was simply trying to get the stone to assuage the fears he had gathered on his tour," Dumbledore continued, stroking his beard. Is that just a thing you do when you have a beard? You stroke it? "But it is so easy to judge in retrospect, is it not?"
Had to nod at that, he's just right.
"Obviously, it had to be a member of the staff," Daphne said, looking at it. "Or...I don't know."
"Please, tell us, Ms. Greengrass," Dumbledore said.
"I feel like the writer of the letter is in the room with us," Daphne admitted.
NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.
"But that can't be right," Daphne said. "None of us could possibly have known any of this. I didn't suspect Quirrell was hosting the Dark Lord at all!"
Whew. Okay.
Dumbledore hummed to himself. "I suspect the mystery of this letter will reveal itself in time, if at all." He looked at all of us. "Now, as for the consequences of your actions." He cleared his throat. "Harry, Ron and Hermione? You three knowingly went against school rules to enter the forbidden corridor on the third floor and bypassed all safeguards to move the Philosopher's Stone to your dormitory."
He leaned forward. "In some ways, this was a brilliant way to safeguard the stone, as Quirrell would have been looking at the Mirror forever, trying to retrieve a treasure that wasn't there. However," Dumbledore turned to me. "What could Quirrell have used to discover the stone had been moved, Marcus?"
Oh, I didn't think about that.
"Legilimency, sir," I replied. At the trio's confused glances, I added, "the art of gleaning thoughts from another person."
All three of their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
"Sir," Harry began. "We just wanted to protect the stone. We didn't realize–"
"I am aware of that, Mr. Potter. I believe you acted with total sincerity," Professor Dumbledore cut in. "That is why you are not being expelled."
Harry fell silent.
"For your bravery and magnificent wizarding skills in bypassing each layer, assistance notwithstanding, I am awarding you fifty points to Gryffindor. Each," Professor Dumbledore said. "And for bravery in saving Marcus Sullivan's life, Harry, I am awarding an additional fifty points."
And just like that, they've won the house cup. Deserved, honestly.
"You will also serve six weeks detention with Hagrid," Dumbledore replied. "Breaking the rules, no matter how noble your intentions, always carries consequences. It will be up to you three to decide if it was worth it."
Harry bowed his head. "Yes, Professor."
"Now then," he turned to us Slytherins. "The five of you sought to expose dark magic for personal gain. I applaud the desire to further your ambitions through noble acts, and I would encourage you to continue to do so. For your resourcefulness, dedication and cunning in devising a way through the counter-charms protecting Voldemort's identity, I am awarding you all thirty points to Slytherin. Each."
It… didn't help our mood much. We helped disrupt the plans of Lord Voldemort, who is something of an icon in Slytherin. As far as the rest of the house is concerned, we were Persona Non Grata.
"And Mr. Sullivan, for your keeping of a cool head during a harrowing situation, and for sheer cheek in the face of unimaginable danger, I award you an additional twenty points," Dumbledore continued.
"Thank you, sir." Oh...wait, are we tied with Gryffindor?
"But you five also conspired to play a practical joke on a member of the faculty to embarrass him, and did so while believing him to be weak and compromised," Dumbledore replied. "You must learn that just because someone looks weak doesn't mean they don't have strong connections, so I am also sentencing you five to six weeks of detention to be served with Hagrid the groundskeeper."
We just shrugged. He had a good point. Wait… "Are we serving detention altogether?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I thought it appropriate, given how things have converged."
Of course Draco, Greg and Vincent were disappointed. Daphne just looked numb. Me? Well, I'd been wanting to hang out with the golden trio, and I'd been wanting to introduce myself to Hagrid for a while now, so this actually works out well for me.
Kinda.
… I'm going to be skipping breakfast again for a while.
---
Author's Note: Congrats! With Ao3 being down and FFnet being a completely malfunctioning piece of tragic garbage, you guys are the only ones who get todays chapter!
I hope you enjoyed it, and I am eagerly awaiting your comments down below.
Until the next time!
~Fulcon
