disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story. Hope you all like it!
Nicolas Flamel
After the incident with Dumbledore and the Mirror, none of them went seeking for it again. It was a little though for Arabella. She wanted to go back and gaze into the mirror one more time, just to see Remus's smile. She never notice, but… there was always a hint of sadness in Remus whenever he smiled, and when she looked in the Mirror, it was gone.
And with the Mirror came nightmares of a green light and wicked laughter. She could hear the whisper of 'poppet' in her dorm, making her look over her shoulders and shiver. She kept these dreams close to her and did not tell a single soul, not even Remus after he sent her a letter a few days before the start of the term.
Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view on things. She was torn between horror at the idea of them being out of bed, rooming the school a couple nights in a row, and disappointed that they did not find out who Nicolas Flamel was.
They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, but once the term started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Then came the horrible announcement that followed a Quidditch practice.
Ron and Hermione were playing a very heated game of wizard chess. It was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something they thought was very good for her. Arabella was watching them, silently doing commentary in her head. She was saying it out loud to the others, but Ron and Hermione made her stop, claiming to want some concentration. Harry sat down next to Ron after practice.
"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron. "I need to concen –"He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
Harry looked around the common room for a moment. It was nearly empty with a group of sixth years in the corner. He leaned in and whispered, "Snape's referring the next match."
Their eyes widened.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg."
"Really break your leg."
"I'll break it for you," offered Arabella.
"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
At that moment, Neville toppled into the common room. It was a miracle that he managed to climb through the portrait hole because his legs were stuck together with the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to hop all the way up to the Gryffindor tower.
Everyone began to laugh, except Hermione. She leapt up and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, leading him over to sit with them.
"Malfoy," said Neville, his voice shaky. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that one."
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" urged Hermione. "Report him!"
Neville shook his head. "I don't want more trouble."
"You've got to do something, Neville!" pressed Arabella. "Get back at him – get even, Neville!"
Neville shook his head once again. "There's no point."
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked.
Harry pulled something out from his pocket and gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry. It was a Chocolate Frog.
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."
Neville's smile twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the Frog. Arabella and Hermione looked at each other and grinned. It was quite a sweet sight.
"Thanks, Harry… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"
As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card. "Dumbledore again. He was the first one I ever – "He gasped and stared at the back of the card. He then looked up and whispered, "I found him! I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: 'Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!"
Hermione jumped to her feet, more excited than she had been when they got their first marks on their homework. "Stay here!" She printed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories and dashed back with an enormous old book in her arms.
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading. "
"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione shushed him until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last, she found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" asked Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
"Oh," said Arabella, nodding along with Hermione's words. "That's nice. What is it?"
"Honestly – read that, there."
She pushed the book towards them, and Arabella, Harry and Ron read:
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There might have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera-lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).
"See?" asked Hermione when they were doe. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it. That's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"A stone that makes gold and stops you ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's no exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty five, is he?"
"So what are we going to do now?" asked Arabella. "We know what the dog's guarding, what Snape's after, but we can we exactly do with this information? We don't know why Snape wants it and it's not like we can say this to anyone without getting into some serious trouble."
Harry sighed. "There's nothing we can do right now, but we have to make sure he doesn't get his hands on it."
On the day of the match, Arabella, Hermione and Ron found a place in the stands next to Neville. He didn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had brought their wands to the match. They had been practicing the Leg-Locker Curse and got the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville. They were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sort of sign of wanting to hurt Harry.
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered.
"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."
"Enough, the both of you," hissed Arabella. "Look, Dumbledore's come to watch. Snape wouldn't try anything with Dumbledore watching."
Harry was surely safe. Snape wouldn't try anything with Dumbledore watching. Perhaps that was why he was glaring as the teams marched on to the pitch.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," said Ron. "Look – they're off. Ouch!"
Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. Arabella turned to see Malfoy and his cronies.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you, Weasley?"
Arabella inhaled sharply with her fists balled up. Ron did not answer and Hermione was squinting fixedly at Harry. Snape just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a Bludger at him.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" asked Malfoy loudly, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason whatsoever. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money – you should be on the team, Black, with your father being a murderer and all. Better yet, Longbottom, you should be on the team, you've got no brain."
Neville went bright red and turned in his seat to face Neville. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.
"You tell him, Neville," said Arabella as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter.
"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
Ron's nerves were reaching the breaking point. "I'm warning you, Malfoy – one more word –"
"Ron! Arabella!" said Hermione suddenly. "Harry –!"
"What? Where?"
Harry had suddenly gone into ta spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers. Arabella stood up along with the other Gryffindors as Harry stretched out his hand and streaked towards the ground like a bullet.
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotter some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.
Ron snapped. Before anyone knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling to the ground. Arabella saw Crabbe crack his knuckles, about to take a swing at Ron. She got up and tackled him to the ground, swinging wildly. Neville hesitated for a moment before taking on Goyle. Crabbe was bigger and stronger than her, but she held her own, she always did.
"Come on, Harry!" screamed Hermione. She didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling under her seat, or the brawls and yelps coming from Arabella, Crabbe, Neville, and Goyle as their fists were twirling about.
She wasn't sure if it was Crabbe or Goyle, but someone punched her chin and then the corner of her mouth. She kicked someone as hard as she could and, with all her strength, punched Goyle in the nose. She was satisfied to hear it crack under her knuckles.
The stands erupted around them as they continued with their brawl.
"Arabella! Ron! Where are you?" shrieked Hermione. "The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor are in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil.
As the team went back to the locker room, more people began to notice what was going on with the six of them. The older Gryffindors began to pull them apart as Arabella gave one last slap to Crabbe. Malfoy glared at Arabella, Ron and Neville, with his black eye, before slouching off while they celebrated with everyone else. Neville was out cold on the ground with his face complete red and a bruise forming around his left eye. Ron and Arabella hoisted him on their shoulders, and, with Hermione, they began to head towards the castle and the infirmary.
Once they had made sure Neville was alright, Arabella and Ron got themselves checked under Hermione's persistence. The corner of Arabella's mouth held some dry blood and her chin was throbbing, while Ron had scratches on his forehead and cheek. But they were alright.
"That was incredible," breathed Ron as they entered the common room. The party was swinging. Fred and George were passing out cakes and drinks, while everyone was cheering and laughing.
"The fight or the game?" asked Arabella, smiling.
"Both!"
Arabella laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes, taking some cake from George. They joined in as the twins began to tell a long tale about Snape's favouritism during the game, and the odds they had to struggle through to gain that well-deserved victory. The game barely lasted ten minutes, but their tale was quite amazing.
They had been there an hour and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Arabella tugged on Oliver Wood's sleeve and said, "Where's Harry?"
Wood scrunched his eyebrows. "I thought he was with you lot."
Arabella, Hermione and Ron looked at each other and left the common room quickly.
"He's probably in the Gryffindor changing room," said Arabella. "Or the broomstick shed. But honestly, we won the game!"
They set off towards the entrance of Hogwarts, only to see Harry heading their way.
"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione asked.
"We won! You won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye and Arabella and Neville took on Crabbe and Goyle!"
"Really?" asked Harry, glancing at Arabella.
Arabella smiled. "It's true! Neville's out cold, though, but he'll be alright – we showed them. Everyone's in the common room having a party. Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."
"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this…"
He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard. He followed Snape as he walked into the Forbidden Forest and heard Snape threaten Quirrell over the Philosopher's Stone.
"So we were right," said Harry, "it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy – and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus' – I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell which Snape needs to break through –"
"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" asked Hermione in alarm.
Arabella groaned as she said, "And with Quirrell's steel spine –"
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.
Thank you all for reading! Tell me what you think!