Chapter Eleven:
January rolled into February. The weather was going from snowy to rainy, and they were still spending far too much time for Elizabeth's liking going through books, looking for Nicolas Flamel. Harry was gone for quite a bit of it as well, since he was practicing Quidditch. This kept leading to friendly teasing between Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth. After all, the upcoming match was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. They couldn't help but poke fun at each other over the rivalry.
The homework was also piling up more. Elizabeth was currently sitting alone in the girls' dormitory with her History of Magic assignment in front of her, which was due the next day and she was only halfway through it.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth, pick up, this is important!"
Elizabeth jumped, splattering ink over her assignment. She sighed in annoyance, using her wand to wipe it away before looking to the nightstand where her mirror was, where she saw Harry and Ron's faces squished together, both trying to see the mirror at once. Elizabeth immediately snatched up her mirror, holding it close.
"What's wrong? What happened?" she asked quickly.
"We found Flamel!" the boys chorused.
"You what?" Elizabeth sat up straighter, pushing her glasses back up her nose, "Really? Where?"
She'd been sick of hearing about Nicolas Flamel, their long hours in the library. But now, it was finally paying off. They finally had something. All that work was worth it. And maybe now that they knew who he was, the others would leave the subject alone now.
"I never thought to look in here!" Hermione's voice came and Elizabeth heard something heavy falling onto a table just out of sight on the mirror, "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?" Ron echoed in disbelief. Elizabeth suddenly had a feeling the book might be even bigger than Hogwarts: A History.
"Anyway, Elizabeth," Harry turned back to the mirror, "I knew I read his name before, he's mentioned on the back of Dumbledore's chocolate frog card!"
"He is?" Elizabeth asked. She collected the cards, even had Dumbledore, but the name never stuck with her. Of course, she rarely ever actually read the cards.
"I knew it!" Hermione's voice came from off-view again. Harry suddenly turned the mirror and Elizabeth found herself looking at Hermione bent over a very large, very old book, "Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
"The what?" the others asked together. Elizabeth had never heard of that before...
"Oh, honestly, don't you three read? Listen, here I'll read it," Hermione gave an annoyed sigh, leaning more over the book, "'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 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.'"
Elizabeth sat there, stunned. A stone that turned things into gold, and made someone immortal?
"No wonder Snape's after it, if that's what Fluffy's guarding," she said, "It's got to be what he's guarding. What else could it be?"
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in the Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," Ron added, "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"
"I guess not," Elizabeth said. She didn't quite feel as guilty anymore, now that they knew who Nicolas Flamel was. It wouldn't have mattered, really, if she had found out about him a couple of days earlier.
Besides, they had other things to worry about. The Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match was drawing closer. Elizabeth had started joking with Harry and Ron at first about the in-House rivalry, as she had done when returning from the term. However, as the match got closer, she noticed Harry looking green. She soon stopped teasing after that.
While Harry was at practice, though, Hermione, Elizabeth, and Ron had their own practicing to do. Elizabeth found out why when Hermione insisted on them meeting in an empty classroom after Harry left for practice.
"Snape's refereeing the match," Ron told Elizabeth when she asked what was wrong.
"What?" Elizabeth asked, shocked, "Snape? Why isn't Madam Hooch refereeing?"
"We don't know," Hermione said, "But we have a plan. I looked up the spell for the Leg-Locker Curse. I think we should practice it. If Professor Snape tries anything, we'll be ready."
"You want to curse a teacher?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. It was one thing trying to find out what Snape was up to, not wanting him to get the Philosopher's Stone, but actually plan to attack him...Elizabeth wasn't so sure about that.
"Elizabeth," Ron said, "Snape tried to kill Harry during the last match. He probably would have if it wasn't for Hermione."
Elizabeth gave a sigh. She knew Ron was right. Still, she didn't really like the idea...
"Fine, let's practice," Elizabeth said, pulling out her wand.
Every time Harry was at Quidditch practice, Elizabeth, Ron, and Hermione were in empty classrooms, practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. Which, much to Elizabeth's annoyance, she was quite bad at. The best Elizabeth could do was make Hermione's legs go a little stiff, but not to the point she couldn't move them. Or make them bind together. Elizabeth couldn't help but be more and more frustrated as she went. If she couldn't even do a simple Leg-Locker Curse, what use was she going to be if she needed to curse Snape?
That thought kept going through Elizabeth's head up to the day of the match. As she reached the Great Hall, she went over and sat between Susan and Hannah.
"Think we'll win?" Hannah asked.
"Of course we will," it was Ernie who answered, sitting on the other side of the table from the girls, "I'm sure Harry just got lucky in the last match. I mean, he caught the Snitch in his mouth. He didn't actually catch it, did he?"
"We've seen Harry fly, though," Elizabeth pointed out, feeling the need to defend her friend, despite the fact they were on opposite sides of the match today, "He is good."
"But he's still a first year," Lewis said nearby, leaning over, "And he's never been on a broom before Hogwarts. It takes more than a natural talent to win at Quidditch, it takes determination and experience, too. Cedric is going to get that Snitch first, I'd bet anything."
There was a rousing chorus of 'hear hear!' from everyone within earshot of Lewis. Elizabeth grinned, but her stomach was churning with nerves. She kept thinking about what if Snape tried something? What if he tried to attack Harry during the match?
'Hermione and Ron will be watching, too,' Elizabeth told herself. They were good with the Leg-Locker Curse. One of them could do it a lot easier than her...
That thought stayed with Elizabeth all the way down to the Quidditch pitch, walking with Hannah and Susan, who were talking excitedly about the match. She noticed as she reached her seat, towards the front of the stands, that Snape looked extremely angry and she soon saw why. Professor Dumbledore was sitting amongst the staff up in the stands.
Relief rushed through Elizabeth. She didn't have to worry about Snape. There was no way Snape would try anything in front of Dumbledore. She had nothing to worry about. She could just sit back and enjoy the match.
The teams were off, soaring up into the air. It was barely even seconds before George had sent a Bludger flying in Snape's direction, which he retaliated to by awarding a penalty to Hufflepuff.
"Serves the right!" Susan called loudly, "You don't attack the ref!"
Elizabeth couldn't help but agree. She didn't like Snape, but you didn't attack teachers. Especially when that teacher was refereeing the Quidditch match you're playing in. Gryffindor brought that one on themselves.
Their Chaser easily scored the penalty and the match went on. Elizabeth looked up above the match as Hufflepuff got another penalty and saw both Harry and Cedric circling above in opposite directions. Suddenly, however, Harry went into a sharp dive towards the ground. Elizabeth barely had time to jump to her feet when Harry pulled from the dive, holding the clutched Snitch high over his head.
"That...That's it?" Elizabeth asked, feeling a bit deflated, "The match is over?"
"It's only been five minutes, at most!" Hannah complained, "I wanted to see Hufflepuff win!"
The Hufflepuffs left in low spirits, feeling robbed. They had expected a long match. Instead, they'd barely even got started when the match was suddenly over. They passed the cheering Gryffindors—Elizabeth noticed Ron had a bloody nose and vaguely wondered what happened—before heading on up to the castle. Elizabeth sighed, glancing back towards the pitch as the others went inside.
It would really be the friendly thing to do to go congratulate Harry, wouldn't it? After all, catching the Snitch in five minutes. It was an amazing play.
So Elizabeth turned back around, passing the cheering Gryffindors heading to their common room, most likely. She reached the locker rooms and stood outside, feeling awkward. Especially as other Gryffindor players were coming out and giving her odd looks as they passed.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She could congratulate Harry later, right? Tomorrow. Tomorrow sounded good. Elizabeth turned, starting back towards the castle. She'd just talk to Harry tomorrow. Besides, dinner was most likely being served. And she was hungry.
"Elizabeth?"
She jumped, spinning around to see Harry had just come out of the locker room, his Nimbus Two-Thousand over his shoulder.
"Oh, hi Harry," Elizabeth said, feeling her face warming and she grinned a bit awkwardly, "Um, I just wanted to congratulate you. That was a good play."
"Thanks," Harry said, coming over, "You're not upset, are you? That we beat you?"
"A bit," Elizabeth admitted, "But it was a fair game. Besides...I guess it's good it ended fast. It didn't give Snape a chance to do anything."
Even though Elizabeth doubted he'd have done anything with Dumbledore in the crowd anyway.
"Speaking of Snape..." Harry said, suddenly pointing off across the grounds, "Is that him?"
Elizabeth looked over, seeing a cloaked figure hurrying towards the forest.
"Everyone's at dinner, what's he doing out here?" she asked.
"Come on, let's find out," Harry said, mounting his broom and looking at Elizabeth.
"What?" she squeaked, "Go into the forest?"
"Don't worry," Harry said, "We'll stay high up. Come on. We don't want to lose him."
Elizabeth groaned but swung a leg over the broom, wrapping her arms around Harry from behind to brace herself as they shot into the air. Even with what they were doing, Elizabeth couldn't help but marvel at how smoothly the Nimbus Two-Thousand model flew...
That thought disappeared fast, however, as Harry started towards the forest and Elizabeth could feel the tree tops brushing against her shoes. She couldn't believe they were doing this. That they were sneaking into the forest to spy on a teacher...
It wasn't long before Elizabeth could hear voices. She squeezed Harry's side and he nodded, obviously hearing them too and stopped the broom at a branch in a large tree. Elizabeth climbed over onto the branch as silently as she could and Harry landed next to her. The two began edging along the branches, helping each other along to keep from falling as they kept glancing through the leaves.
They stopped right at the edge of a clearing, making sure they stayed hidden among the leaves. Snape was definitely there. And he wasn't alone. He was talking with Professor Quirrell.
"...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..." Professor Quirrell was stuttering, which wasn't unusual. She couldn't help but think, however, that he looked even more nervous than usual.
"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," Snape said in a cool voice, "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."
Harry and Elizabeth glanced at each other with wide eyes before leaning a bit forward on the branch, wanting to hear more.
"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" Snape asked.
"B-b-but Severus, I—"
"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell."
"I-I don't know what you—"
"You know perfectly well what I mean."
Snape was standing quite close to Quirrell now. Elizabeth leaned forward a bit more just as an owl hooted nearby. Elizabeth jumped and bit her tongue to keep from calling out as she nearly fell off the branch. In fact, she would have if Harry hadn't have grabbed onto her and help her up. She gave him a grateful look, her heart pounding from the near-accident.
"B-but I d-d-don't—"
"Very well," Snape cut Quirrell off, "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie."
Snape pulled the hood of the cloak over his head and left Quirrell alone in the clearing. Elizabeth and Harry just stared at each other silently in their tree, and Elizabeth could tell Harry was thinking the same thing she was.
Snape really was after the Philosopher's Stone. And if Quirrell was the only thing standing between Snape and the Stone, it was only a matter of time before Snape had it.
But, Elizabeth told herself, Quirrell couldn't be the only thing. After all, Snape had no idea how to get past Fluffy. The Stone would stay safe. They didn't have anything to worry about.