Post by KayleeTonksLupin on Feb 8, 2005 11:59:40 GMT -5
A/N: I don't own these characters, even Madame Arden, who is still Jestana's. Anything in ~~ ~~ is in Gaelic, simply because I'm not smart enough to know the language of my own ancestors. Pity. This is set in Minerva's fifth year, though I *could* be wrong on what year she was when the CoS was opened for the first time.
Summary: Poppy falls victim to the Basilisk in fifth year. Minerva, Rolanda, and Sylvia have to help each other. Albus Dumbledore has been the silent observer...but can he help? He can help in more ways than he ever thought possible...
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"Miss McGonagall. Come quickly!" The raven-haired Prefect whirled around and faced her teacher, the urgent tone in her Head's voice making her tremble with fear. She dashed after him, frightened. What had happened?
"There has been another attack, Miss McGonagall," he said. Minerva's hand flew to her mouth. Lately, Muggle-born students had been found all over the castle, frozen, eyes wide, unable to move or to speak. Petrified. But why had he called this specifically to her attention now? Unless...No. NO!
She ran faster, her dark braid lashing at her shoulders, after him to the Hospital Wing. Yes, there she was, her blonde hair spilling around her shoulders, brown eyes frozen in a blank stare, robes soaked. "We found her outside the girls' bathroom," Albus Dumbledore said gently, "fallen in a pool of water."
"Poppy! Poppy! No!" Minerva was frantic. "Poppy! Please, wake up, speak to me, say something, anything!"
Madame Arden lay a comforting hand on Minerva's shoulder. "She will be all right. She is not dead, Miss McGonagall. Our Herbology Professor has owled a friend who grows Mandrake plants. They will be arriving as soon as they are mature. Professor Malfoy will be able to mix a potion which can restore her."
Sure, was Minerva's next thought. He CAN, but will he? He hated Poppy!
As if reading Minerva's thoughts with his light blue eyes, Albus put his arms around her gently for a few seconds. "Do not worry...Minerva," he said. "Professor Malfoy will brew the Mandrake Restorative Draught, no matter what his personal feelings are on the matter."
"Poppy, oh, Poppy..." Minerva whispered, holding her best friend's ice-cold hands in her own. Something slipped out of Poppy's curled fingers into Minerva's hand. She picked it up and turned her back to the others. The seal and crest of Ravenclaw, sapphire embedded in bronze. Poppy's pendant!
She remembered the pact of the four Hogwarts Princesses that she had made with Rolanda, Poppy, and Sylvia back in September. Taking out her own pendant, she ran her fingers lightly over the ruby lion embedded in gold.
~~"Lioness, Gryffindor Princess,"~~ she chanted. ~~"Come to me, give me the powers, Gryffindor. Here I call on the daughters of Hufflepuff and Slytherin to come! Come to me, come to us!"~~ She watched as her ruby and gold pendant glowed, and before long, Rolanda and Sylvia came dashing in. "Sorry we're late," Rolanda muttered. "Our Heads of House *conveniently* didn't think we needed to know something was up." Minerva arched her eyebrows. She stepped back.
Now they saw Poppy, lying pale and still on her hospital bed. Rolanda's hawklike eyes narrowed, and she ran her fingers through her spiky, short red-gold hair the way she always did when she was nervous or frightened. If you didn't know her well enough, you'd think she was showing off or something...Sylvia's hands flew to her mouth and her blue eyes filled with tears. She bent over her fallen friend and smoothed her hair, weeping. "Oh, Poppy. Poppy...how could this happen to you?"
Albus surveyed the students with deep sympathy and concern. He wanted to know more than ever who could be the Heir. He had his suspicions, as none of the attacks had been on Slytherins. But Armando had scoffed when he suggested Riddle as a possible culprit. After all, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome sixth-year, top student, Prefect, even though he was parentless he was still a model for others.
Summary: Poppy falls victim to the Basilisk in fifth year. Minerva, Rolanda, and Sylvia have to help each other. Albus Dumbledore has been the silent observer...but can he help? He can help in more ways than he ever thought possible...
`````````````````````````````````````````````
"Miss McGonagall. Come quickly!" The raven-haired Prefect whirled around and faced her teacher, the urgent tone in her Head's voice making her tremble with fear. She dashed after him, frightened. What had happened?
"There has been another attack, Miss McGonagall," he said. Minerva's hand flew to her mouth. Lately, Muggle-born students had been found all over the castle, frozen, eyes wide, unable to move or to speak. Petrified. But why had he called this specifically to her attention now? Unless...No. NO!
She ran faster, her dark braid lashing at her shoulders, after him to the Hospital Wing. Yes, there she was, her blonde hair spilling around her shoulders, brown eyes frozen in a blank stare, robes soaked. "We found her outside the girls' bathroom," Albus Dumbledore said gently, "fallen in a pool of water."
"Poppy! Poppy! No!" Minerva was frantic. "Poppy! Please, wake up, speak to me, say something, anything!"
Madame Arden lay a comforting hand on Minerva's shoulder. "She will be all right. She is not dead, Miss McGonagall. Our Herbology Professor has owled a friend who grows Mandrake plants. They will be arriving as soon as they are mature. Professor Malfoy will be able to mix a potion which can restore her."
Sure, was Minerva's next thought. He CAN, but will he? He hated Poppy!
As if reading Minerva's thoughts with his light blue eyes, Albus put his arms around her gently for a few seconds. "Do not worry...Minerva," he said. "Professor Malfoy will brew the Mandrake Restorative Draught, no matter what his personal feelings are on the matter."
"Poppy, oh, Poppy..." Minerva whispered, holding her best friend's ice-cold hands in her own. Something slipped out of Poppy's curled fingers into Minerva's hand. She picked it up and turned her back to the others. The seal and crest of Ravenclaw, sapphire embedded in bronze. Poppy's pendant!
She remembered the pact of the four Hogwarts Princesses that she had made with Rolanda, Poppy, and Sylvia back in September. Taking out her own pendant, she ran her fingers lightly over the ruby lion embedded in gold.
~~"Lioness, Gryffindor Princess,"~~ she chanted. ~~"Come to me, give me the powers, Gryffindor. Here I call on the daughters of Hufflepuff and Slytherin to come! Come to me, come to us!"~~ She watched as her ruby and gold pendant glowed, and before long, Rolanda and Sylvia came dashing in. "Sorry we're late," Rolanda muttered. "Our Heads of House *conveniently* didn't think we needed to know something was up." Minerva arched her eyebrows. She stepped back.
Now they saw Poppy, lying pale and still on her hospital bed. Rolanda's hawklike eyes narrowed, and she ran her fingers through her spiky, short red-gold hair the way she always did when she was nervous or frightened. If you didn't know her well enough, you'd think she was showing off or something...Sylvia's hands flew to her mouth and her blue eyes filled with tears. She bent over her fallen friend and smoothed her hair, weeping. "Oh, Poppy. Poppy...how could this happen to you?"
Albus surveyed the students with deep sympathy and concern. He wanted to know more than ever who could be the Heir. He had his suspicions, as none of the attacks had been on Slytherins. But Armando had scoffed when he suggested Riddle as a possible culprit. After all, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome sixth-year, top student, Prefect, even though he was parentless he was still a model for others.
)
