"Why is seven the most magical number?" asked the eagle on the door, it's voice echoing impressively down the stair.
"That's all it keeps asking us," said a boy from in front of Harry in the queue. "It's not a very normal riddle, is it?"
Riddles from the door to the Ravenclaw Tower were completely normal. What was unusual was the failure, so far, of thirty or so Ravenclaws to solve it. In the stair winding up to the door, a packed crowd of students waited for someone further back in the queue to figure out what it wanted.
"What have they tried again?" asked Michael from behind Harry.
"I heard they gave it examples of seven in uses of potions and transfigurations, as well as magical creatures that clump in groups of seven," said one boy.
"I heard someone say they told it about mathematical factors related to Arithmancy," a girl said.
"Have any seventh years made it up there yet?" Harry asked. "If anyone can solve this obscure riddle, one of them should."
Harry had been wracking his brains for an answer. It was unusual. There was no way, he could see, to make a logical argument around it. What he had heard was mostly what he would have put to the door, facts. But facts weren't what it was looking for, everyone could probably guess that. Their attempts were simply guesses to hopefully spur someone into realising the solution. It wanted the reason why. What had caused seven to interact in the way it did with the magical world?
No one answered Harry as voices towards the front became angry and rude towards the door. A few banged a fist against the wooden surface in frustration. The eagle simply repeated: "Why is seven the most magical number?"
The hubbub continued for some time, but no one was able to think of a response that would open the door. The door remained adamant in its question, but betrayed no interest in the proceedings outside. The students, however, began to grow annoyed. They had given every reason anyone of them had thought of. From a first year's stammered thoughts to a seventh's confident attempt, all had been tried. The house was tapped out. As the time rolled onward, they grew louder, and more irritated by the others around them. Harry began to wish he could go back and walk around the corridors for a bit. It was becoming insufferably stuffy. Unfortunately, there were dozens of students between him and the bottom of the stair, and no one else was moving.
Suddenly, the students behind Harry parted, crunching against the walls as though trying not to touch something hot in the middle. No one seemed to be complaining too much, but everyone was staring at the point where the students were parting. Harry moved before he could make out what was happening, but could see a black-robed figure moving through the crowd. As he passed, Harry could clearly see Professor Snape, his face expressionless, almost bored. His eyes darted to Harry briefly, but he didn't acknowledge Harry in any way.
Reaching the front, Snape knocked on the great door. A couple students still stood by it, their hands extended in fists towards the door, forgotten. The door repeated its favourite phrase of the day, "Why is seven the most magical number?"
Professor Snape smiled rather unpleasantly, a smirk that all his students were familiar with. "I should have thought even a first year might have understood this. Clearly…I was mistaken. I believe the answer is, seven is not the most magical number because magic is in equal parts to all numbers and signs, as it is beyond them. It is but we, wizards and witches, who prescribe meaning to signs."
"Correct," the door said, opening without a sound.
Snape turned around to the horde of Ravenclaws around him. "You could not answer the question," he said in a smug drawl, "because you accepted the premise of the question without any hesitation. You have known all your lives that seven is the most magical number, but you never questioned if that was truth or where it came from. From now on, I suspect, some of you may."
He shifted his cloak about his shoulders and departed, silently as he had come. Everyone watched him go, the door to the Ravenclaw dormitory sitting open. Only after he had gone did anyone move. As a mass, they filed into the common room and spread out. Some immediately headed up the stairs for their dormitories, some collapsed into chairs around the room. Everyone looked dejected, though. Harry couldn't blame them.
"I feel like an idiot," he said to some of the other first years sitting near him.
"I know what you mean," said Terry. "Professor Snape isn't even a Ravenclaw, and he made us all look like sodding Hufflepuffs."
"Hufflepuffs aren't stupid," Harry said, irritated. "It just shows we have a lot to learn."
"But he's a Slytherin," Anthony said. "They're not good at stuff like this."
"He is a professor, though," Terry said. "They all just know stuff like this."
"Experience," Harry said. "Any of the professors probably could have solved that."
"Even Quirrell?" Anthony asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well," Harry said, "maybe before he had gone on his trip around the world." He shrugged.
"Do you think he meant something by that," Terry asked, "that bit about accepting the premise? Was there something he wanted us to get from that besides the obvious?"
"I'm not sure," Harry said, "it seemed pretty straight forward. We just accept what people tell us."
"It is a school," Anthony said, "a lot of what we're taught we can't help but accept as is."
"At least with magic," Harry said, "we can test out the techniques, see that they work."
"But what if there are better ways to do things?" Terry asked.
"How do you make a spell better than it is?" Anthony asked. "You say an incantation, focus a certain way, wave your wand a certain way, and voila…"
"I've never heard of a password no one in the Tower could figure out," Harry muttered. "I wonder if the door does it once in a while to make a point?"
No one had an answer. They began working quietly on their schoolwork, it was later in the evening than they normally would have started working, and everyone was overloaded, as it was. Harry began his essay for Professor Snape, and while he wrote, his mind kept going back to Snape's words and to that moment when the professor glanced at him in passing. There was nothing in that look, but Harry thought maybe…maybe he had expected more of Harry. Had the professor actually thought Harry could do better than the rest of his house?
"He had a point, Harry," Hermione said as they chatted, walking to the library the next day. "Most people here don't think about alternatives."
"Such as?" Harry asked.
"Look at the Muggles," Hermione said. "They can't use magic, but for nearly everything wizards and witches do, they come up with a solution. Instead of the wizarding wireless, they harness electromagnetic frequencies to send signals around. Instead of broomsticks, they design airplanes that carry hundreds of people at a time. They're creative and inventive, always striving for something newer, better."
"What, and wizards don't?" Harry asked. He looked out the window ahead of them, watching birds taking off from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was the tailing edge of winter, and some of the early birds had already begun their migrations. At least, that's what Harry thought to himself.
"Have the wizards come up with an alternative to Muggle television?" Hermione asked, taking Harry's attention away from the birds.
"What's television?" he asked, looking at her curiously.
"What's te-" she began, surprised. "Seriously?" Sighing, she took a breath and continued, "Imagine you could see and hear something happening somewhere else either as it happens or later on. Now, imagine you could do this and millions of people could see the same thing, should they choose."
"How is that possible?" Harry asked, startled. "Muggles do this? That must use magic."
"They use technology to send the images and sounds to people around the country and around the world," Hermione said. "In some ways, Muggles are far more advanced than wizards and witches. We have gotten too complacent, wizards I mean."
"I suppose you're right," Harry said. "Most of the spells we learn were developed hundreds to thousands of years ago. Potions, as well."
"It is pretty dangerous to create something new," Hermione said. "Many who try are hurt, you know."
"But danger is half the fun," the twins said as one, sitting on either side of Harry and Hermione.
Harry and Hermione turned to look at the twin sitting beside them. They had matching smiles, but looked less clever or smug than usual. They saw the looks of tiredness on the other two faces and held up their hands.
"Look," Fred said, "we're done trying to convince you two, okay?"
"We wanted to apologise for bothering you so much," George said, sounding as serious as a Weasley twin evidently could.
"And you're giving up your plan?" Harry asked.
"You know it would be nice to have that kind of money," Fred said.
"It would be really useful in going out there with some collateral to aid us," George said.
"You know, when we finish school and all this," Fred stated.
"But?" Harry asked.
"But," Fred said, "like you said, creating is dangerous."
"And," George added, "like I said, that makes it fun."
"So," Harry said, "are you saying you want to make a philosopher's stone?"
"No," Fred said, chuckling. "We'll make -"
"Our own fortune," George said.
"How exactly?" Hermione asked.
"That doesn't matter at the moment," Fred said.
"What matters," George added, "is what we should do about the stone."
"We told Dumbledore about it," Harry said, flatly. "He listened to us, but…I don't think he's going to do anything."
"As we all thought," Fred said.
"How, then, should we protect the stone?" George asked.
"Do we have to?" Hermione asked. "Do we have to actually protect it?"
"Of course we do," George whispered.
"It's the duty of all Gryffindors to protect and help," Fred said, putting his fist across his chest. After a second, he looked at Harry, saying, "And Harry can help, as well."
"Wait," Harry said. "How do we know you're not going to try to get the stone now that we're supposed to 'protect it?'"
"Harry!" Fred exclaimed. "How could you besmirch our reputation?"
"You think we would go back on our word?" George asked.
"Technically, you haven't given your word," Hermione pointed out.
"Fine," Fred and George said as one, "we promise, on our honour, not to take the stone."
Harry looked at Hermione. She was looking at the other two.
"What do you think, Hermione?" he asked.
"I think," she said, looking between the two, "that they're being honest."
"Alright," Harry said. "But if you do go for the stone, we'll let the staff know."
"And your mum," Hermione said, smiling, smugly.
"You're dirty, you are," Fred said, smirking at Hermione.
"That's why we like you, though," Hermione answered.
George, sitting next to Harry, moved around him and grabbed Hermione by one shoulder while Fred grabbed her other one. She seemed to shrink beneath them.
"You in?" Fred asked, looking more excited than Harry had ever seen them.
"Gryffindors united!" George cried.
"Hush!" came a voice from around the library stack near them.
"Gryffindors united!" George repeated, much more quietly.
"I-" Hermione began. "F-fine, but we're not doing anything dangerous."
"Dumbledore said we shouldn't try to confront the people going after it, anyway," Harry replied. "So we should be careful."
"Of course!" George said, patting Harry and Hermione on their shoulders. "We'll be as safe as a stone."
"Considering several people are after this one," Hermione said, "I don't think that assures me too much."
"Ah, but it will be all the safer for us protecting it," Fred said, raising his hand dramatically.
"The question," Harry said, "if we are all agreed to go into this, is how can we protect it?"
"The professors have plenty of protections in place," Hermione added. "What could we add that they have not?"
Fred shook his head, saying, "And here we were thinking Hermione Granger, proponent of the Wizarding world becoming more creative, would be glad for a chance to try."
"A shame, really," George said.
"First," Harry said, thinking quickly, "if we want to stop them, we should be able to tell if someone is going after it, right?"
"Makes sense," Hermione said, "but how can we do that?"
"There are spells to send alarms," Harry said. "They let you know if someone opens a door or enters an area."
"How is that new and creative?" Fred asked.
"I just had a thought," Harry said. "Hermione, can you tell us more about this television thing that Muggles have?"