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Lily's Daughter? by ginnytwin95
Chapter 21 : Could Someone Please Tell Me What Just Happened?
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 3

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So I'm not really happy with this chapter, it just isn't working with me. But its been forever and I wanted to get it up for you so here it goes. Oh and as for the disclaimer refer to the last twenty chapters to realize that I don't own Harry Potter for the love of Odin.

I woke up slowly, my thoughts disorganized and haphazard. The last thing I could remember was being in Quirrell's office and him taking a flying leap off the deep end and going completely psycho. I blinked my eyes open slowly as they adjusted to the low light and took in the odd scene before me.

I was lying in a heap along one of the side walls of the room, about three quarters of the way up the steps that ran along all four sides of the room. About two feet before me was a wall of roaring flames that was making my back uncomfortably warm. Harry was standing before an ancient looking mirror looking rather confused, and Quirrell was standing behind and a bit to the side of him. His right hand was gripping Harry's shoulder tightly, so tightly in fact that I was certain that Harry would be left with five finger shaped bruises. A surge of protectiveness swelled within me for my friend, even if I still was a little mad at him.

I watched carefully, refraining from even the smallest of movements in order to keep up the facade of unconsciousness. Harry suddenly glanced marginally down as his hand seemed to move of its own accord to the fabric just outside his pocket, before his eyes shot back up to the mirror.

I heard him stammer for a moment before he said, "I...I see myself holding the Quidditch cup..." ****** He continued but even from here I could tell Quirrell wasn't buying it, Harry really was a terrible liar.

I watched as Harry tried to run, to get away from our idiotic turned sociopath Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And in the moment when Quirrell caught up and slammed him into the steps the stone, rolling away from Harry's finger tips that I knew I had to act.

I sprung up, neither of them noticing me, but of course the perverted version of Voldemort on the back of his head did and I scrambled to figure out what to do as it yelled, "THE GIRL!"

Quirrell turned from Harry and towards me, and I didn't even have a wand. Just great this is just great. Quickly realizing I had no other options I ran at Quirrell and slammed into him linebacker style. Not expecting the muggle tactic at all he fell backwards, but as he sent several blasts from his wand I couldn't avoid them all. And a purplish light caught me in the torso. As I was sent flying backwards I saw Harry's eyes widen in horror, the first emotion he had shown since he froze upon finding out I was there.

Stars danced in front of my eyes as my back connected with one of the stone pillars. I quickly fell into a slumped pile at it's base, I could just make out the sound of Harry calling out my name as my head spun from the impact. The heat here was actually painful and I could feel the hot tongues of flame so close to me as they ached to grab me. I couldn't see anything and as I struggled to feel anything I was truly scared that I was going to die.

My breaths weren't coming as easy, the feeling of pain was fading away into the blackness that I was nearly engulfed in. And for the first time since I had woken up after the car accident I was truly terrified. But soon even that faded away as I struggled to hold on the some small form of consciousness.

I knew the moment when my battle became a hopeless one, but just before I took what I was fairly certain was my last breath I felt my entire body cocooned in a comfortable warmth. It wasn't hot like the flames, it felt like a warm sweater on a cold winter's day, curled up in a chair with a book that took you worlds away.

After a few moments when the darkness ensnaring my mind was fading, I realized just what was happening. I remembered going the St. Mungo's and the old and wizened Healer telling me about my natural healing ability. I was saving myself, no fairy-tale night in shining armor necessary.

Finally I felt the warmth fade and I opened my eyes, to see a scene that I didn't expect in the least. Quirrell was gone and Harry was laying across the stairs, eyes closed. I froze for an instant, but shook it off a moment later as I ran towards him.

I dropped the my knees beside him, and something clicked together in my brain. It was like I could feel just what was wrong with him, knew exactly where he was injured.

I allowed my own eyes to close my magic and mind focusing on his shallowly breathing form. When I opened my eyes again I could see my hands extended over him and a blue light pulsing down from them to engulf his injured form.

I concentrated and the light intensified. I saw his breathing deepen and even out just as spots began to darken my vision once again.

My hands dropped to my side, my duty to my friend complete. I looked up as my consciousness began to fade once again, although this time I was strangely aware of the fact that it was not from injury but from magical exhaustion. And as I looked up I saw the mirror, I could see the strange engravings surrounding it. And as I looked into it I saw my parents standing slightly off in the background along with a grinning Neville. But up front I saw myself standing with a dark haired albeit blurry boy both of us smiling and standing just behind us I saw an equally blurry couple. The man with dark hair like the boy, and the woman with flaming red hair.

My last thought as I fell back against the stairs, my eyes closing as the darkness took over once more was "Just like me..."

So yeah I'm really sorry about the wait and the length it just wouldn't come, all of my plot bunnies abandoned me. I really hope you don't hate me, and I humbly request that you review as well as promise to write the next chapter ASAP.

*******Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone pg.292 by J.K. Rowling

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