This Bag of Stones
Chapter 6 – The Making Of...
"How do you stop yourself from doing this in class?" Ron whispered, leaning across his desk to speak to Harry and Hermione who were seated in front.
"Do what?" Hermione whispered back.
"The stones! It's all I can do to stop myself from using them!" He sounded woebegone.
Harry gave a small smile at that. He never realised how lonely keeping a secret as big as that to himself. Now, he had an entire circle of friends who were just as fascinated by them as he was. From the moment Ron had been introduced to the stones, he'd been hooked. The quartet spent hours in what had now become 'their' classroom, even –in Ron's case- forsaking chess to experiment longer with the stones. It was heading well into November and all the first-years had finally gotten into the rhythm of Hogwarts life.
At first, they found it hard to balance their schoolwork and their work with the stones. The boys would often nod off in classes, only to be prodded awake by Hermione. When they grumbled, she would remind them that the teachers would get suspicious and they'd have to suspend their extracurricular activities temporarily. Of course, this news would be enough to keep them bright-eyed and attentive for the rest of the day.
Professor McGonagall would often eye them fondly when she saw Miss Granger keeping them in line. Out of all the Professors, it was only the eagle-eyes Transfiguration Professor that noticed a slight hesitance when it came to Mr Potter's turn to perform the spell. She chalked it up to shyness and any further pursuit of the matter was quickly distracted by either Miss Granger who managed to outperform the rest of her peers or Mr Weasley's utter failure.
When Harry noticed his friends stepping up to distract the teachers while he quickly used the stone to finish the spell, he became even more determined to help them. Under his encouraging tutelage, the trio had managed to master the stones in leaps and bounds. Ron, eager to catch up with the rest, had tried exceptionally hard for the first few nights. To their surprise, he mastered the Dawnstone quicker than Neville and Hermione initially had.
Hermione, unable to hold back, had written all her observations and facts down in a little book that she now carried everywhere. Even during classes, Harry sometimes spotted her pull out the notebook and quickly scribe a few notes. In fact, she was doing it just as Ron asked them the question in transfiguration class.
"Ron," she asked seriously, quill poised over the notebook. "Do you feel twitchy? Perhaps an itching in your hands to use the stones again?" Ron looked aghast.
"Hey! I'm not addicted!" Harry held up his hands in defence when Hermione whipped around to face him.
"Harry, you're fine because you've done this your whole life. I want to find out what it's doing to us-" she gestured at Neville, Ron and herself, "as new users."
"Speaking of new," Ron eagerly interrupted, "What other stones do you have? What kind of powers do they have?" He turned thoughtful. "I think I've got the Wingstone down pat. So what's next?"
Hermione frowned. "You know... I'm actually not sure. None of us have progressed further." The trio turned to Harry, who was looking rather nervous.
"There's a tiny problem with that: there are no more."
"No MORE?!" Neville protested loudly.
"No more what, Mr. Longbottom?" asked a stern voice. Neville gulped.
"Sorry ma'am." He sunk lower in his seat. Professor McGonagall frowned at them for a few seconds and waited till they had all turned back to face the front before beginning class.
"No more?" Neville whispered fiercely as they left the last class of the day. Harry nodded sombrely.
"I'm sorry... I honestly didn't expect all of you to master them before Christmas!"
"But Harry, there are so many more stones left in the bag!"
"I know, Hermione." He sighed. "But I don't know what they do."
"What?" All three of them exclaimed in unison.
"I've never had to use them before," he shrugged.
"Weren't you curious?" Hermione was flabbergasted. "If I found out about them, I'd have done as much as I could to-"
"Wait wait wait." Ron looked puzzled. "I must have missed this but... Mate, how did you make these stones?" Neville, Hermione and Harry stared at him blankly. He matched them with an even stare. "You know... how did you come up with the different stones and all that," he shrugged, trailing off slightly at their baffled expressions.
"Make the stones?" Harry asked weakly. Hermione looked just as shaken as he felt. "The stones had magic already?" Instead of coming out as a statement, the lilt at the end of the sentence turned it into a question. Ron burst out in laughter. When he saw that no one else had joined him, his laughter faded away.
"What, you're serious?" The other three nodded. "Oh. OH. I'm sorry, I just assumed. Don't mind me, I was just being stupid," he began to babble.
"No, I think you're on to something, Ronald." There was a deepening frown line on Hermione's forehead as she pondered the subject. The boys waited patiently, knowing that she'd tell them when she arrived at a conclusion.
"I think I know what we're going to do this Christmas," she finally said in a smug tone. All of them groaned in response but deep down, each of them were almost thrumming with anticipation for what Hermione had planned for them.
When they eventually arrived at their classroom and were comfortably seated, Hermione opened her notebook.
"Harry, I need you to be as precise as possible. No leaving out little details and describe EVERYTHING." She leaned closer. "What happened when you first used the stones?" Neville and Ron perked up while Harry seemed to slump even further.
"I- I dunno," he said confused. "Well, as you all know, the Dawnstone was my first stone as well," he referred to their first few lessons. They nodded eagerly. "Well... My relatives were never the most accommodating of guardians." He grimaced. "That might be the largest understatement of the century. But moving on, ever since the light bulb blew in my cup- my room," he hastily covered up. "My uncle never bothered to change it."
Hermione frowned, "But Harry, I thought you said you used it for the first time when you were 8?" He stared at her helplessly. Her eyes widened in realisation and her mouth formed a little 'o'.
"Anyway, it was really dark that night. I remember it was raining and everyone went to sleep early." Harry's eyes grew distant.
Locked securely in his cupboard, little Harry knew in his mind that nothing could get to him. No cold wet, miserable rain thundering down on the back of his head as he trudged home from school, no chilly winds to pierce through his soaked clothes and deep into his bones, no flashes of blinding light accompanied by a concussive bang of thunder. Yet for some reason, the still darkness of the living room seemed to magnify the pattering of the rain outside. Deep inside Harry laid the terrifying notion that he was the only soul on the bottom floor of the house. He had long heard Dudley's booming steps as he ran to his parents' room for comfort.
His hands felt outwards in the pitch black of his cupboard, searching for any form of comfort. They encountered a small, velvety bag. He patted it and felt for the spherical objects inside. Carefully pulling the drawstrings apart, Harry dipped a hand into the bag and pulled out a smooth white pebble. The only reason he could tell it was white was because it glowed in the darkness of his cupboard.
Outside, the rain drummed onto the earth, not letting up on its deluge. The lightning had thinned out before altogether disappearing. Due to the cloudy skies, Harry had long lost his sense of timing. He could only guess by the amount of time that had passed since the Dursleys went up that it was way past midnight and entering early morning.
Dawn.
As he was always locked in every night and only let out when Aunt Petunia demanded breakfast, Harry had never experienced sunrise before. He gripped the cool stone, trying to draw as much comfort from the token as possible. Perhaps, he pondered, sunrise was something like sunset but in the opposite direction. The rays of the sun would slowly pierce the horizon, spreading leisurely across the eastern sky. Then a deep crimson would follow and finally, the star of the show: the sun. Perhaps for a few precious seconds, he would be able to stare at the dominating round orb without blinking white spots away from his vision.
Suddenly, he noticed his right palm heating up. Harry opened his hand, expecting to see a luminous white stone. Instead, light seemed to pour out in waves, spilling from his hands and illuminating the entire cupboard. Is this dawn? Harry wondered, dazzled.
There was silence in the room for a few seconds after he finished his story. Harry looked around hesitantly, wondering if he had revealed too much about his life back at the Dursleys. Before his fears could fester, Hermione spoke up.
"Harry, I think what you're describing is the making of a new stone."
"See, I knew it all along," Ron nodded sagely. Neville scoffed at him.
"No you didn't!" Ron scowled at Neville.
"At least I tried!" He fired back.
"BOYS!" Their heads whipped around to face Hermione. She glowered at them. "Do you understand what's happening here?" Her glare intensified.
Ron shrunk back slightly and back-tracked. "That... I was right?" he said meekly. She shook her head.
"Ron was wrong?" Neville offered. She shook her head again and then sighed when there was no forthcoming answer. Looking at their blank faces, her expression softened and her shoulders slumped.
"Think about it guys. Remember what Harry was saying. Come on, just try!" she encouraged. Harry looked doubtful but still tried his best to remember if he had said anything particularly intelligent. They wracked their brains for a couple of seconds before Neville shot up from the broken seat he had occupied.
"Hermione..." he gasped, his eyes round. Ron looked at him warily then at Hermione, who was nodding in understanding.
"What? What is it?"
"Ron, this.. this is.." Neville sank back down into his chair looking dazed.
"What is it? Tell me!" Ron insisted.
"Whoa, Hermione. No. You can't be sure. Just because I can doesn't mean..." Harry trailed off.
"Why not?" she asked simply.
"Why not?" Harry asked incredulously. "What- How.. Why... Argh!" He threw his hands up in frustration. "There are too many reasons why you can't do it!
"Then tell me, Harry. Tell me why we can't do this," she pleaded.
"WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON!" Ron bellowed. Neville winced and rubbed his ear.
"Ron, Hermione's saying that we can make our own stones too." Even while he was sulking, Harry had to admit that Ron's pole-axed expression was amusing.
A/N:
So yes, they've discovered that they too can create their own stones. Harry's trying to just be as supporting as he can because 1) they're his friends and 2) he hates the thought of going back to being the only person using a different type of magic. I don't think I stated this clearly enough but whenever they use the stones, they ARE still using their own magic to power it. It's just that the stones are pretty much like spells.
Also, the next few chapters might see Harry slide to a side character as I concentrate on the other 3 while they create their own stones. :) Enjoy!
