DISCLAIMER: See the Prologue.

CANON DISCLAIMER: Covers things like the discovery of Flamel and the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match, but the canon stuff only makes up for about a fraction of this chapter. Lots more original stuff here (including what the other object is)!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hi everyone, sorry for the wait!

This chapter is approximate to Book 1 (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone), Chapter Thirteen, "Nicholas Flamel."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHEN A MYSTERY IS TOO OVERPOWERING

After the holidays, Harry had learned to do without the Mirror of Erised, but he was still feeling a little bad about it. It didn't help either that now he had nightmares with the Mirror of Erised, Mirror of Raef, or even both mirrors taking place in them, where his parents, his friends, and even Pim disappeared with flashes of green light and cruel laughs.

Without trying to actually say "I told you so," Ron commented about Dumbledore's words of wisdom, saying that the Headmaster was right about it. After Hermione had returned and was subsequently told about the experiences with the mirror, she was torn between shock, because Harry had been roaming around the school night after night, and disappointment, because they still hadn't found anything about Flamel. However, Harry secretly wondered, just a little, if Hermione was also disappointed that she hadn't tried out such a fascinating mirror for herself.

Fortunately, once they had moved beyond the topics of the Mirror of Erised and the search for Flamel, they talked about other things, like how nice their respective Christmas breaks were. Hermione had also happily thanked Harry for her brand-new Word-Seeking Lamp. And unless Harry's senses were deceiving him, he could have sworn he witnessed Ron crooning once or twice over his brand-new Trunkdog.

The next day, classes resumed as normal… Harry just also hoped that his life would also resume to normal, or whatever that was for him.

As Pim observed the lingering snow from his tower, he was thinking about some important things.

So far, he could sense nothing malevolent or dangerous about the glowing purple crystals. In fact, it seemed like an ideal solution for his power problem, with how much energy it gave off – especially of the magical variety.

However, at the same time, Pim was certainly wise enough to realize that if something seemed to good to be true, then it probably was. For this to suddenly come his way after suffering setbacks in his attempts to resolve his power problem… it just seemed too good to be true.

With no other real alternative, Pim was now using one of the few nuclear reactors which he had "purchased." Naturally, there were several safeguards in place, just in case something went wrong, but such was the price to pay for using such power.

But as for the crystals themselves… Pim wondered if some other being or entity had knowingly and deliberately sent those crystals his way. For the millennia over his own prolonged lifetime, he had heard rumors about other immortal beings moving about – and from the descriptions he heard, they didn't seem to fit himself or Amu.

Which left the question: If these crystals were indeed intentionally sent his way, were they from a being with benevolent or malevolent intentions?

So, for now, the purple crystals were being safely stored and observed on that Hut-on-the-Rock which he and Harry had bought off of the old man. And for now, Pim would have to make do with the nuclear reactors.

Of course, playing with those party favors which Harry had sent him from Hogwarts had also helped to amuse him.

"Say, Galatea," he called, taking his gaze away from the view, "want to play one of those naval strategy games? I promise I won't be silly again with the rear admiral's hat every time you sink one of my ships."

As someone who had become accustomed to many difficult things in his still-young life, Harry got used to things such as adverse weather conditions and overbearing Quidditch captains. But even now, he was wondering just how much more he could take, especially with the news that Snape would be refereeing the next match. Snape's unique and unusual dislike of Harry Potter was already well-known throughout the school, so between that and Snape's usual dislike of Gryffindors, Harry and his teammates had plenty of reasons to be worried.

After Harry told Ron and Hermione about this turn of events, both of them were just as worried as himself, if not even more so. On the one hand, it looked like Snape had already tried to harm Harry at the first Quidditch match… on the other hand, with memories of what happened still in mind, it was unlikely that Snape would try anything again, especially with Dumbledore and the other professors and even the rest of the school watching. The three of them also considered that maybe Harry should fake an illness or injury, but then it might look suspicious, as well as the fact that Madam Pomfrey would know the truth.

In fact, Harry was so frustrated by his situation that he left Gryffindor Tower, saying that he wanted to go for a walk about the castle, just to calm his nerves before he did anything rash. A few moments later, Ron and Hermione followed him, just to make sure that he didn't do anything rash.

However, in one particularly deserted hallway, Harry saw someone doing a bunny-hop towards them. As they got closer to each other, he could see that it was Neville.

"Neville, what happened to you!?" Harry exclaimed as they rushed up to him. Neville just mumbled something while Hermione answered Harry's question as she said, "It's a Leg-Locker Curse." After she performed the countercurse, Harry and Ron helped him up.

"So what happened to you?" Harry repeated.

"Malfoy," Neville said very quietly. "I just happened to run into him, and he said he needed someone to practice that on."

"Then report him to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged him.

Neville shook his head. "If I do that, he'll know it was me!"

"Even then, even if he does know it was you – I mean, who else would it be? – at least then he might not be able to do anything about it," Harry said calmly, trying to convince Neville to do something about it. "Besides, at least you'll be stopping him from doing it again – to you or to anyone else."

Neville seemed to take in Harry's words, and he seemed to calm down himself as he thought about it.

However, at that particular moment, Professor McGonagall happened to be walking down the hall. At seeing a worried-looking Neville being surrounded by three of his classmates, she said, "Is something wrong, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville was silent for a moment or so as he tried to figure out what to say, or if he should even say anything at all. Finally, when it appeared that he didn't want to say anything, Hermione spoke up, "He had a run in with Draco Malfoy, Professor McGonagall."

Their Head of House pursed her lips. "I see," she said quietly. Raising her voice back to normal tones, she said, "Mr. Longbottom, why don't you come back with me to my office? We can discuss whatever the problem is there."

Somehow, at least to them, McGonagall's offer also sounded partially like an order, and so Neville bad his classmates farewell as he went off with McGonagall to her office.

"I hope things work out for Neville," Harry said, and the other two agreed with him.

In Professor McGonagall's office, Neville sat down and politely accepted the ginger newt which she offered him, not because he necessarily wanted to eat it, but because he didn't want to be rude or do anything else to get her angry, upset, or annoyed with him.

"Now, Mr. Longbottom… is this about Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall asked him.

"Yes," Neville whispered, finishing off the last of his ginger newt.

"What did he do?"

For a moment, Neville decided against saying anything, but then he suddenly blurted out, "He put a Leg-Locker Curse on me."

Now Professor McGonagall looked distinctly displeased with the situation. "I see… and I take it that you did not want to report him because you were afraid of retribution?"

With the situation summed up so eloquently like that, Neville nodded his head.

"I assure you, Mr. Longbottom, that Mr. Malfoy will be dealt with accordingly."

Neville looked up at her, rather surprised. "You believe me?"

Something about that worried Professor McGonagall a little. "You make it sound like I might call you a liar," she observed.

Neville just shrugged.

"Well, I know you wouldn't lie about such things, Mr. Longbottom. So, Mr. Malfoy is indeed responsible for what happened to you?"

Neville just nodded.

"I see. Well, I will see to it that he is dealt with appropriately." After pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, Professor McGonagall asked her student, "Well, while we are still here… is there anything else on your mind?"

Neville just wanted to leave, go back to his dorm room and keep to himself for a little bit, but all of a sudden, he found Professor McGonagall's questions to be too much. He tried not to say anything, but before he knew it, it all came rushing out.

"I just don't like it here! I hate being the worst in all my classes, maybe even Herbology, which I like! It's just awful with the Slytherins especially! Look at me, I can't even use this wand properly!"

Here, Neville took out his wand, and with a wave of it, the legs on Neville's own chair vanished, sending him crashing to the floor.

"See what I mean?" Neville exclaimed, clearly frustrated as he got up, rubbing his backside. "This is my father's wand, too! Oh, Gran is right, what would he say if –"

"Wait," Professor McGonagall said, and Neville suddenly stopped mid-rant. "You say that's yourfather's wand?" she asked him as she magically repaired the chair with her own wand.

"Yes," Neville said slowly. "Why?"

Professor McGonagall sighed a little. "I think I see what the problem is," she said. "It was yourfather's wand. Meaning, it might not be suited for yourself."

Neville thought about it, and it began to make sense to him, too. "So… what should I do, Professor?"

"Well, I think it would be best if you got yourself a new wand…"

"But I don't know what Gran will say about that," he suddenly blurted out, and then quickly clamped his hands over his mouth when he realized that he had interrupted his own professor.

"Mr. Longbottom," she said patiently, "I'm certain your grandmother will understand that in order to pass your classes to the best of your ability and becoming a fully functioning and capable member of magical society, you will need the proper wand for yourself."

Neville lowered his hands and nodded in understanding.

"Perhaps this upcoming weekend, you could go to Diagon Alley and get a new wand."

"Yes, Professor," he said dutifully.

Because Professor McGonagall had to speak to another student anyway (she had to question Lee Jordan about a prank which she was reasonably sure the Weasley twins were responsible for), she ended up walking with Neville back to Gryffindor Tower. However, once they entered the common room, both professor and student saw a peculiar sight: What appeared to be Ron Weasley trying to move, except for the fact that the soles of his shoes were either melting into the carpet or were glued to it.

"Mr. Weasley, what is wrong with your shoes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I tried to help him do a simple cleaning spell," Harry began to say, just as Hermione also began to say, "We didn't think anyone would appreciate Ron tracking dirt all over the castle…"

"Mr. Weasley, please," McGonagall said, indicating that she wanted he himself to explain.

"Like they were saying," Ron said, "I stepped in some dirt walking across the grounds outside, and I was just trying to use this cleaning spell which Harry told me about… and then this happened." Here, he indicated his melted shoes.

With a couple of waves of her wand, the Transfiguration professor undid the damage to Ron's shoes. "Do you have any idea what caused the spell to go wrong, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron shook his head. "I dunno, Professor McGonagall, I did exactly what Harry told me to do with my own wand…" He took out his wand, and showed it to his Head of House.

Professor McGonagall accepted it from Ron and observed it. "Isn't this your brother Charlie's wand?" she asked.

"Yes," Ron said, wondering at first how she knew but then realizing that she must have known, since she had taught his brother for several years.

"I can also see how the unicorn hair is sticking out at the end," she commented. Returning the wand to its owner and looking up to him, she said, "I can understand why you would use your brother's old wand, but between its condition and possible incompatibility with you… I might advise getting a new one."

Since this led to the issue of his family's financial state, Ron gave a natural look around the common room before he spoke again. "Professor," he said discretely (even though there were only a few other Gryffindors scattered throughout the common room), "the thing is… I don't think we have the money, especially for a new wand…"

Only realizing what he was doing as he was doing it, Harry spoke up: "I could help you pay for one."

Ron, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall looked at him, and after a moment, Ron said, "Really, you don't have to do that…"

"Ron, your mother also made and sent me the jumper and the fudge for Christmas," Harry pointed out. "She didn't have to do that, but she did it anyway. Really, Ron, I don't mind at all."

"It might cost a pretty Galleon," Ron observed in counterpoint, almost as if trying to dissuade Harry from his generous offer.

"A few Galleons might be worth avoiding melted shoes or any other accidents," Harry pointed out.

Ron had to admit, he couldn't argue with that logic. Finally, he said, "Well, if it's alright with my mum, then I suppose you could do it…"

"Splendid." Turning to Professor McGonagall, Harry now asked, "Professor, may I go up to my dorm room to write a letter?"

"Yes you may, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, nodding in his direction. With an expression of thanks, Harry dashed up to his room and collected a piece of paper and a pen. After a few minutes, he had written out his letter.

Mrs. Weasley,

First of all, I just wanted to say "thank you" for the jumper and the fudge. The jumper is nice and warm, and the fudge is delicious. Really, you didn't have to, but thanks all the same.

Anyway, it seems that Ron needs a new wand. I was wondering if I could pay for the wand. I'm fully aware that I don't have to do it… but then again, you didn't have to send me that stuff for Christmas, either.

Please consider my offer.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

P.S. I realize you may need some time to think it over, and so I told Hedwig to wait until you could write a reply. If you can't or don't want to offer her any food or drink, then she should be able to take care of herself.

Harry had also wondered, however briefly, if he should say something at all like how he knew someone who was poor, but decided that it might be a very sensitive topic. Ever since he had come to Hogwarts, and had gone on for longer amounts of time without Pim's presence or counsel, Harry had had to think for himself more and more. Still, he just hoped that he had done well with this letter.

Once that was done, Harry folded up and sealed the letter, and then pocketed it before returning back downstairs. After confirming with Ron and Professor McGonagall that it was fine by both of them, Harry went off to the Owlrey to send the letter with Hedwig.

"Hedwig," he told her, "I don't know where Ron lives. Do you think you would still be able to find his home?"

Hedwig, by both hooting softly and bobbing her head, reassured Harry that she would indeed find the Weasley residence. After accepting the letter, she gracefully flew out the window and towards the horizon.

On the way back from the Owlrey, Harry passed by the library, and deciding that now was as good a time as any, he could peruse through the books to see which would be helpful for his homework – just to go the extra distance.

However, as he was finishing with flipping through a book about potions and their practical uses, Harry remembered something else: His plans to try and practice Potions on his own, and maybe include a few others like Neville Longbottom. He would have to ask Dumbledore for permission first, and after he let the ink dry and then put it away, he left Gryffindor Tower to go check the staff room, and then maybe go to the Headmaster's office.

In the staff room, Dumbledore was sitting by himself, although he looked up and smiled a little when he saw Harry enter. "Mr. Potter, what a pleasant surprise," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Professor, I was wondering about something," Harry said slowly. "I was wondering if I could try and practice Potions on my own, outside of Professor Snape's Potions classes. Maybe even have a few of my other classmates do this with me."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, out of both surprise and intrigue. "That is certainly an interesting request, Mr. Potter. May I ask why you want to do this?"

For some reason – maybe it was a leftover remnant of his conditioning from the Dursleys – he didn't want to say anything about Snape's questionable and dubious teaching methods… at least not just yet, anyway.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore… I want to be able to do these Potions on my own, without anyone watching over me – with all due respect to Professor Snape, of course. I mean, that is the idea of learning something it at school, isn't it? To become able to do these things on your own?"

Internally, Dumbledore was quite impressed with Harry's idea. He certainly hadn't expected this from the young Gryffindor.

"It is a very intriguing idea, Mr. Potter," he said. "However, I will have to think it over a little more. I will let you know within a few days."

Well, Harry thought, it didn't give him the permission he needed to do what he had hoped, but at least it was better than an outright refusal. It would do for now. "Thanks, Headmaster."

"You're welcome, Mr. Potter. You may leave now."

Later that same evening, Mrs. Molly Weasley was just cleaning up after dinner when there was a pecking sound at the window. Errol, the elderly family owl, was resting on his own perch, so this must have had to be another owl. Indeed, she did not recognize this beautiful snowy owl, which carried a piece of folded and sealed Muggle paper.

"Well, hello there," she greeted the owl. "Thank you so much. I can offer you Owl Treats and water, unless you would rather prefer hunting out in the yard."

However, the snowy owl decided to accept her first option, and so with a grateful hoot, she fluttered across the room and perched next to Errol, eating an Owl Treat from a small bowl before drinking some water from another small bowl.

Mrs. Weasley got quite a surprise when she read the brief yet very thoughtful letter from none other than Harry Potter. There was something about the way he wrote it – most likely the sincerity which seemed to permeate the letter itself – that made it hard for her to even think about declining his offer.

So, after taking only a few minutes to think it over, she wrote out a reply to him in ink on parchment. When that was done, she gave the reply to Hedwig, telling the owl, "Here is my reply… but unless it's absolutely urgent, you're more than welcome to spend the night here. Can it wait until morning?"

Hedwig gave an affirmative hoot, and so the matter was settled. "Very well," Mrs. Weasley said. "In which case, I can hold on to the message until then."

At that point, her daughter Ginny walked into the room. Seeing the unfamiliar yet beautiful snowy owl, she asked her mother, "Whose owl is that, mum?"

"She belongs to one of Ron's friends from school," Mrs. Weasley said. "She'll be staying here for the night."

Ginny accepted this as an answer, and so she went on her merry way. She was taking advantage of the fact that this would be the only year as a child when she would have the entire house to herself without any older brothers around, and both her parents could tell that she was making the most of it.

However, as she watched her daughter scamper off, some new thoughts occurred to Mrs. Weasley…

For years, the Weasley matriarch had used words about Harry Potter, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, to help her youngest child and only daughter go to sleep at night. However, over those years, Mrs. Weasley had done so because her foremost concern was getting young Ginny to sleep, and not to prepare her for the reality of what Harry Potter was really like. Now that Harry Potter was back in the wizarding world and now attending Hogwarts, and even more so that he was now a friend of Ron's, she would have to make sure that her daughter would not say or do anything… inappropriate around the boy.

Mrs. Weasley also recalled her first impressions of the boy, back in September at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Even though he wasn't considered small for his age, he almost seemed capable of being able to shrink his presence, and melt into a crowd. But even then, in a sort of paradoxical counterpoint to his appearances which were childlike in some respects… one could almost tell by looking into his eyes that he had some small measure of maturity not typically found in other children his own age. Certainly they didn't look as though they were haunted or hardened, but merely guarded, as if there was something he was always thinking about which he didn't want to talk about.

Well, whatever it was, even the great Harry Potter was entitled to keep his own secrets, right?

As it got even later in the evening and her husband eventually returned home from work, and the few current occupants of the Burrow all went to bed (but not before Mrs. Weasley politely bade the snowy owl "good night"), she spent a little time contemplating the new kind of reality which she and her family were now in.

The next morning, Hedwig flew in, delivering a small parcel with a letter attached to the top of it. He opened it up and read it to himself…

Dear Harry,


Thank you so much for the thank-you note and the kind offer to pay for a new wand for Ron. We will gladly accept your offer.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Weasley

P.S. In the parcel is something for you and Ron, and any other friends of yours whom you would like to share it with.

Inside was a basket full of delicious-looking chocolate chip cookies, ones which Ron wanted to sink his teeth into as soon as he knew about their existence. In the end, both he and Harry agreed to just have one each for breakfast, and save the rest for later.

However, today was a Friday, and so they had their usual dreaded Double Potions class with the Slytherins. Fortunately, the thought of being able to get new wands gave both Ron and Neville the strength to make it through yet another grueling class under Snape's tutelage.

And so, after yet another agonizing Potions class, both Ron and Neville met up with Professor McGonagall to go to Ollivander's in Diagon Alley to get their new wands. Ron was also carrying a letter from Harry to Ollivander, saying that Harry himself would pay for Ron's new wand, and the amount could be taken out of his vault at Gringotts. After they left Hogwarts for Diagon Alley, Harry went back up to Gryffindor Tower to record Snape's actions from today onto his list of things which the Potions Master had said and done.

However, after he finished writing down the last sentence of this new addition to his list, he remembered about his idea which he expressed to Dumbledore about doing Potions on his own. He really wanted to hear back about that soon, especially since he wanted to be able to do these Potions successfully on his own in time for the final exams at the end of the year.

Harry put his list away and left Gryffindor Tower for the staff room, and he was nearly there when he heard a couple of unfamiliar yet hushed voices from around the last corner.

"You know, it may not have been such a bad idea to leave it here after all…" said a woman's voice.

"…true, but we're talking about that thing which Gilgamesh's plant –" a man's voice began to say, before abruptly stopping.

Harry, thinking fast and trying to avoid a way to make it look as though he had heard them – whoever these people were – he suddenly dropped his bookbag, causing his books to tumble out and slide across the floor.

Harry hoped he pulled off well the act of a student who was just collecting his things which he had accidentally dropped. True enough, just as the man and woman came around the corner, they saw a harried young student just trying to collect his things.

"Sorry," he mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear, "accidentally dropped my stuff…"

As soon as he retrieved his last book and put it back in his bag, he looked up at them, and they looked at him. They both looked to be in their late forties, or maybe even their early fifties. The man had a round face, wire-rimmed glasses, a scruffy brown beard, with his long brown hair tied back into a ponytail, while the woman had slightly lighter brown hair which cascaded down behind her more rectangular face.

"That's alright, young man," the woman said kindly. "What is your name?"

"Harry Potter, ma'am," he said politely.

They must not have seen the scar on his forehead, Harry decided, because the woman's eyes bulged a little, while the man looked politely interested. "So, this is the Harry Potter which I've heard quite a bit about, Claire?"

"Oh, stuff it," she told him, albeit a little playfully. Turning back to Harry, she shook his hand and said, "My name is Claire Woolley, and this is my husband, Melbourne."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter," he said, shaking Harry's hand the moment after his wife had let go. After he himself also released Harry's hand, he said, "I'm a professor at the University of Sussex, I teach about ancient cultures in the Middle East and Near East. I'm a Muggle myself, but my wife's the witch in the family."

"Pleased to meet both of you," Harry said politely.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore as he rounded the corner. "I see you have met one of my former students and her husband."

"We were just on our way out as we met him, Headmaster," Claire told him. "Thanks again for having us over."

"Anytime, Claire, Melbourne," said Dumbledore cheerfully, "anytime."

After the Woolleys left, Dumbledore turned to Harry and said, "Is there anything you would like to discuss with me, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said as they entered the staff room. "I'm sorry if I'm getting a little impatient, but I was wondering about the idea of me and maybe a few other students practicing Potions on our own."

"I surmised as much," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling a little. "And after giving it some thought, I have decided to allow you to do this. However, I would prefer that you have a student who is at least two years older than you with adequate marks in Potions supervising you. If you can find anyone who would be willing to do it, then I will reserve one of the less-used classrooms in the dungeons."

Harry nodded eagerly. "Yes, thank you, sir."

"If that is all…"

Taking the hint, Harry politely departed, heading back to Gryffindor Tower.

For Ron, the trip to Mr. Ollivander's had been interesting, to say the least. The old wandmaker was able to perfectly recite all the different wands which both of his parents and all of his older brothers before him had had over the years. And while Ron was glad to get his own brand-new wand, there was something just a little creepy about Mr. Ollivander which made the red-haired boy want to just take the wand, pay for it, and briskly walk out the store's front door as quickly as possible. Still, it had been rather "wicked," as Ron would have put it, when he got confirmation that this wand had been the right one for him – when what looked like a knight on horseback (with both rider and horse looking comprised entirely of red and gold sparks) pranced around him a couple of times before dissolving into air.

Speaking of who paid for the wand… Ron was thinking about Harry and just how he should go about thanking the other boy. Even now, after these months of having known Harry Potter (and not the Boy-Who-Lived), Ron could see that Harry didn't want or even like his fame. Even though Harry's offer and act of paying for Ron's new wand made perfect sense, Ron himself was still a little bowled over by it.

Ron thought back to a few months prior when he and Harry got into that stupid argument about House pride, and afterwards, Ron had been so fuming about Harry's inability to see things his own way that he wrote a letter to his mother – more like a rant – about how much of a superior, haughty, rude boy Harry Potter was. Fortunately, in his own rage, Ron forgot to send it out afterwards, and it was only after he and Harry saved Hermione from the troll that he found it again, but this time, he quickly and discretely threw it in the fireplace in the common room before anyone could see it or read it. In retrospect, Ron was so grateful that he hadn't been able to send it out for his mother to read.

As he and Neville walked back up to Gryffindor Tower, Ron was mentally going over the different ways he could politely and profoundly thank Harry for his generosity.

Neville was carefully holding his own wand in its case in his hands as he walked with Ron up to Gryffindor Tower, afraid of anything happening to it as he walked there; after all, he didn't want anything to happen to it, since he just got it.

While Mr. Ollivander was testing Neville to see what kind of wand would suit him, his grandmother had to make some kind of comment in front of everyone about how his father would be disappointed that his son couldn't even use his wand. The moment after that, Professor McGonagall requested that she talk to Mrs. Longbottom outside. While the two women were outside talking to each other, and Mr. Ollivander went through some wands to see which would work the best for Neville, the round-faced boy thought he heard his professor's voice saying things like "accepting that he is not his father" and "stop trying to make him something which he is not" (which Neville did his best to tune out as he went through the wands).

Finally, the two women came back in, with Professor McGonagall looking as though she was trying to hide satisfaction and Mrs. Longbottom looking as though she was trying to hide shock. However, they walked in just in time to see Neville choose the right wand for him, especially as it showed several green and brown tendrils of lights and sparks grow from the tip of his wand like vines, wrapping around themselves until they grew into an impressive tree which faded away after a moment.

Neville often had to wonder: What would his parents think of him? Would they be proud of him, ashamed of him, or still ready to accept him for what he was all the same? He had heard of what they were like from his grandmother and other relatives, and he figured that none of them would say something that was false or untrue about his parents. Hopefully, one day, he would be able to meet his own parents himself… but for now, he would have to make do on his own.

On the way up to his dorm room, Harry caught Ron in the common room, showing off his new wand and commenting loud enough for him to hear that it was "fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair." The redhead certainly seemed happy about it, and Harry was a little glad himself that he could make it so.

As Harry was in his room, leaning back on his bed and thinking to himself, he thought about the encounter with those two people – Claire and Melbourne Woolley, was it? Their mentioning about a certain kind of plant, from some old myth… why did it seem to resonate with something deep within Harry's mind?

But then the scorpion people came to mind… as did the cuneiform writing which appeared both on that "portal" thing and the two halves of that object in Dumbledore's office.

Plant, myth, scorpion people, cuneiform… what was their connection? What was the one thing which combined them all?

But then there was that name which one of them had mentioned… the name of…

"Gilgamesh!" Harry exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

Now he remembered. It was the oldest known hero saga in the world, from ancient Sumer, about that king of the walled city of Uruk who wanted to be a hero and thus set out to slay monsters to make a name for himself or to find paths to immortality.

Getting off the bed, Harry stood up, got a few of his things together, and headed towards the library. Once he was there, he went into the section for books on myths and legends, and once he was there, he narrowed it down to that from ancient Mesopotamia. Once he found what he was looking for – a translation of the epic of Gilgamesh – he flipped through it, and in the last part of it, he found what he was looking for.

Towards the end of the epic, as Gilgamesh was getting older, he was looking for ways to become immortal. He sought out and visited the old Utnapishtim, the sole survivor of the Great Flood. Gilgamesh first tried to achieve immortality by staying awake for a full seven days, but he failed at that once he fell asleep almost right away. Still ambitious about becoming immortal, the hero begged the old man for some other way, and so Utnapishtim told him about a special kind of plant which restored a person's youth.

While this special kind of plant only restored youth, and not grant immortality, Gilgamesh went for it anyway. He did manage to collect the plant, but on the journey back, as he stopped for a moment and put it on the side, a hungry snake just happened to come along, snatched the plant and made away with it.

But now new thoughts were forming in Harry's mind… maybe this particular plant wasn't one of a kind, but was part of a species. Well, that would also have to be the case if Hogwarts was guarding it! And there might have to be more information about this plant somewhere, especially within Hogwarts' own library. However, he didn't know whether it could have been in the Restricted Section or not, and he didn't want to take his chances.

So, armed with the book about the tale of Gilgamesh, Harry went up to Madam Pince and sought her help. When he approached her, she looked a little distasteful at first, but no more than she did to any of the students. "Excuse me, Madam Pince," he said politely, "but I'm looking for information about a certain kind of plant. I know what it is and where it's from, but I don't know what it's called."

After showing her the plant in the book, she led him over to a shelf full of highly advanced books on magical flora and fauna. It turned out that, in the ages after Gilgamesh and when the epic was written, a name had been given to this plant by wizards who knew it existed because it was magical. It was called, appropriately, the Lost Plant of Gilgamesh.

Harry was continuing to put the pieces together in his mind. Maybe the plant had been preserved somehow inside that clay block whose halves were in Dumbledore's office? Based on the information which Harry had, it was most likely that the Woolleys had found it somewhere, and then given to Dumbledore for safekeeping.

Somehow, it seemed likely to Harry that it was being guarded behind the portal with the scorpion people, given their connection by ancient Mesopotamian myth. In which case, maybe Fluffy was guarding the other thing, whatever was in the package from the vault at Gringotts?

Harry had to bring this information back to Ron and Hermione. They needed to know about this too.

Once he got back to Gryffindor Tower, he saw the two of them during their work at a table in the common room. It appeared that because they couldn't find any information on Flamel, they were forced to spend more time doing their homework.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said. "Find anything?"

"Actually, yeah. No, it's not about Flamel," he quickly added after their attention perked, "but about something else."

"What is it, then?" Ron asked.

"Let me get something from my room first," Harry said. With all the excitement, he needed something to eat, like a snack, just something to give him a little energy. So, back in his room, he ended up taking one of the Chocolate Frogs which Hermione had given him for Christmas. He took his time walking back down the stairs to the table in the common room, so by the time he returned to where his friends were sitting, he had consumed the last bit of it.

"Hungry, much?" Ron commented.

"Yeah, I figured why not," Harry said. "Thanks again, Hermione."

"Certainly, Harry," she said courteously.

"So, who did you get?" Ron asked him, referring to the Chocolate Frog card.

Harry looked down at the card on his hand. "It's Dumbledore again. At least now I have spares…"

But then Harry remembered something else. Looking on the back, he saw what he and his friends had been seeking for more than a month.

As he realized that he had finally found what he was looking for, he just dimly heard Ron's and Hermione's voices in the background. "Hey, mate, what's going on?" "Harry, what is it?"

"I've found Flamel," he whispered to them, flipping the card over so its description was face-up, and then sliding it towards them.

There it was: Nicholas Flamel, whom Dumbledore had done work with in the field of alchemy.

As this information began to sink into them, Hermione in particular began to look as excited as when they had gotten back the marks for their very first homework assignments. After quickly telling Harry and Ron to "Stay there!" she sprinted up the stairs to her own dormitory, and then sprinted back down just as quickly with an enormous old book in her arms.

"I borrowed this from the library a little while ago for some light reading," Hermione explained ("Light?" Ron repeated incredulously) as she opened the book and began flicking through it. After a few pages, however, Harry said to her, "Uh, Hermione… remember the lamp?"

Hermione blinked a couple of times, and then she remembered Harry's Christmas gift for her. "What? Oh, right! Good thinking, Harry. You know, I'm just so used to looking through the books myself… like trying to find a prize…"

She kept rambling like that as she once again sprinted to the staircase to the girls' dormitories and up them, and less than a minute later, she came back with her brand-new Word-Seeking Lamp. After she lit it, she took a small piece of scrap parchment and wrote the words "Nicholas Flamel" on it, and then fed the piece of parchment to the lamp's flame. It flared for a moment, and a small but distinct ray of light shone from it and settled on a small space of the book itself.

As Hermione flipped through the pages the book, the ray of light remained, focused on where the name "Nicholas Flamel" would be deep within the books' pages. When she finally got to the right page, the ray of light from the lamp disappeared and its flames returned to normal.

After she found what she was looking for, she whispered excitedly to them, "It's the Philosopher's Stone!"

Ron gave her a blank look, but Harry looked thoughtful. "That sounds familiar," Harry said.

"It's the stone which gives the user immortality and unlimited gold," Hermione explained (and out the corner of his eye, Harry thought he saw Ron's attention perk quite a bit). "And according to this book," Hermione continued, "the only stone currently in existence belongs to Nicholas Flamel, who, last year, celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday."

Both boys gawked at her, especially after hearing how old Flamel himself was. Hermione smiled and summed it all up, figuring out that the three-headed dog was guarding the stone, which Flamel had given to his friend Dumbledore for safekeeping. After Ron made some comment about how being six hundred and sixty-five years old doesn't count as being "recent," they all took a moment to think about it all.

They had found out what Fluffy was guarding and who Flamel was… but now what?

"I believe there was something else you wanted to tell us, Harry?" Hermione asked, suddenly remembering herself.

"Hm? Oh yeah," Harry mumbled, lifting up his own book onto the table. "I figured out what the other object is…"

So, Harry recapped about the youth-restoring plant in the epic of Gilgamesh. "According to the myth, Gilgamesh went out to find this plant which would restore a person's youth, which he did, but then he lost it to a snake when he wasn't looking. I think this is the same type of plant. Somehow, these couple of people – Claire and Melbourne Woolley – found this thing and gave it to Dumbledore for safekeeping."

Both Ron and Hermione looked amazed. "A stone which gives immortality and a plant which restores youth?" Hermione thought out loud (although, wisely, not loud enough for everyone else to hear). "This might sound almost too good to be true."

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking," Harry said, "that between the two of them, it would become too tempting for someone, just to get either one."

As they all fell silent again, with the identities of both magical objects confirmed, they thought about what else to do, now that they knew.

"So… what do we do now, now that we've found them?" Ron asked between them.

"I guess we keep quiet about it," Harry said with a shrug. "Not much else we can do, is there?"

Quirrell was having a bad day, even for someone like himself. His master claimed to be patient, being able to wait for years at a time to accomplish a single yet important goal, but at the moment, it didn't seem like it.

"Master, please," he begged. "I am this close to finding a way to get the Philosopher's Stone…"

"I seem to recall you saying the same exact thing at the beginning of the school year," his master hissed.

Quirrell gulped. "Yes, yes I did, you're absolutely right, Master…"

"So what is the obstacle stopping you from doing so?"

"Just how to get the information from Hagrid on how to get past that beast of his…"

"Well, in which case, maybe I –"

But his master suddenly stopped talking, and then hissed directly to Quirrell, so low that only the two of them could hear it, "Someone is coming!"

And the next moment, much to Quirrell's surprise, there was a sensation of something being removed from his head, and he whipped his head around just in time to see a small black mist fleeing from him and across the room to a heavily guarded cabinet. Composing himself and putting on his "nervous professor" disguise yet again, Quirrell was ready just in time for whoever would cross the threshold.

"Quirinus, are you alright?"

It was Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Oh, um, y-yes, H-Headmaster," he stuttered.

"Your turban is loose," the headmaster pointed out.

Quirrell reflexively reached up to inspect his turban, and just by touching it, it came undone and fell about his shoulders.

Then Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "What is that on the back of your head?"

Thinking fast (and knowing that Dumbledore was talking about what looked like slightly decayed skin), Quirrell stuttered, "Z-Z-Zombie R-R-Rot."

Seeing Dumbledore's questioning expression, Quirrell elaborated that, during his trip to the summer in Africa, when he had gotten rid of that troublesome zombie, the aforementioned zombie had gotten a little too close for comfort in the struggle with it, and so he had been using the turban (a thank-you gift from the grateful prince) as a way to hide it.

"O-Oh, don't w-w-worry, H-Headmaster, I've b-been t-taking p-proper c-care of it," Quirrell added.

"Well, I must admit that I am a little surprised you didn't tell any of us," Dumbldore said. "That is to say, myself and your colleagues."

"Oh, w-well, I didn't th-think it w-was n-necessary," Quirrell said, having the good grace to look a little guilty. "A-and I-I-I especially didn't w-want t-to t-tell th-the st-students…"

"Because of not only the rumors, but also because of that inevitable panicky or overprotective parent who might make a fuss over it?" Dumbledore helpfully supplied.

Quirrell simply nodded.

"Ah, don't worry, Quirins, your secret is safe with me," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "Would you happen to have any idea when it will be completely cured?"

"H-hopefully b-by n-next year," Quirrell said, daring to smile a little. Besides, when my plans succeed, you won't even be here next year, Quirrell thought maliciously.

"That's the spirit. Well, good day, Quirinus, and get well soon."

"Th-thank y-you, H-Headmaster. Good day."

After Dumbledore left, Quirrell waited a few moments, just to make sure that Dumbledore was a safe distance away. Once he was sure again, he strode over to the cabinet into which his disembodied master had fled. After unlocking the enchanted cabinet with a special spell, Quirrell looked at and addressed an ugly black vase. On it was a snakelike face with catlike red eyes – and it moved.

"That was close," Quirrell commented.

"Obviously," his master said, sounding rather annoyed. "Then again, that is why we had this vase, isn't it?"

Quirrell nodded. "True, my master."

"And now I must return."

Quirrell nodded a little stiffly, and after putting Silencing Charms on the room, he collected his turban and approached the vase.

If anyone could have heard what was happening inside the office, they would have heard an agonizing scream…

During their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, as Quirrell was explaining about how to treat werewolf bites, Harry and Ron would occasionally whisper back and forth about what they would do with their own Philosopher's Stone. It was only after Ron said that he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about the upcoming match which Snape would be refereeing.

Later on, when they brought up the topic of the upcoming Quidditch match again, Harry told them that he had made his decision. "I'm going to play," he said. "I'm not going to let Snape scare me off from playing, and I'm not going to let certain students – Slytherin or otherwise – have something else to use against me."

With that settled, they all accepted it, and Hermione gave him another warning about staying safe, as usual.

Harry knew that in order to have been a Gryffindor, he had to be Sorted into the House because he was brave and noble. And while he humbly considered himself to be a noble enough person, he wondered just how brave he was, between his years of being "raised" by the Dursleys and when he was subsequently raised by Pim, with him being secluded away from the world in both cases, albeit in different ways. He never really had a chance to test or measure his bravery before. He also wondered now if, just because you had a certain quality, that meant you were supposed to possess and display it all the time.

Right now, Harry was feeling nervous, much like the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, because they had the first chance in seven years of being able to overtake Slytherin in the House championship, but now they didn't know if they could, especially because of how they were going to have such a biased referee for the upcoming match.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but to him, it seemed as though Snape had become even nastier to Harry after he found out about the Philosopher's Stone, even though the young Gryffindor didn't really see how that was possible. In fact, Harry was now also beginning to wonder if Snape could somehow read minds.

The night before the Quidditch match, Harry and Neville went into one of the lower dungeons after dinner, carrying their cauldrons and supplies with them. Neville was the first one which Harry told about these independent Potions lessons, and once Neville learned that Snape would have nothing to do with it, he all too happily agreed to it.

The older student who agreed to help them was Penelope Clearwater, the fifth-year female Ravenclaw prefect. Initially, Harry had asked Percy in the halls if he would be willing to do it, but Percy said that he was too busy doing his prefect duties and studying for his OWLs at the end of the year. At that moment, Penelope overheard the discussion between Harry and Percy, and volunteered to do it herself. Harry said she didn't have to, but Penelope said that she wouldn't mind. Internally, Harry wondered if either Penelope was less studious than she could have been, or if Percy was more studious than he needed to be.

Penelope was already waiting for them, ready to go. Harry entered the room first, with Neville right behind him. However, barely a moment later, the door opened yet again to admit six other people: Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender.

"Wow, I didn't expect everyone to turn up," Harry commented.

"We heard about this little 'independent study session' of yours, and we decided to try it out," Hermione said.

"Why you too?" Harry asked Hermione. "I mean, you're probably the best at Potions out of all of us…"

Hermione merely shrugged. "I figured it couldn't hurt to try it myself, at least once."

Soon enough, they got things underway, and wisely, they decided to start back at the beginning, to their very first Potions lesson, with that simple potion meant to cure boils. Instead of constantly picking on them and snarling at them, Penelope pointed out little things and subtle hints, encouraging them to do what they needed to do in order to make it properly. Neville only had to ask for help once, and by the time they were all done, the forgetful boy had actually brewed his potion so well that Penelope gave him a very approving, satisfied smile. In fact, Neville looked so overwhelmed that he had brewed his own potion so well that he looked like he would faint at any moment.

As Penelope stepped out for a moment, just to take a short break, Harry quietly motioned to the other Gryffindors to meet with him.

"So, what do you think?" he told them.

"I think this was a great idea, Harry," Ron said, grinning a little.

"Maybe we should tell Professor Snape that we can do these potions after all…" Hermione mused.

"No," Harry suddenly cut across, making them all look at him. Collecting himself, he reiterated, "I'm sorry, what I mean is… no, I don't think we should tell Snape about this. We're here, trying to learn this on our ownbecause of Snape and how he 'teaches' us. If he knew about this, he would just raise the stakes or something with how he treats us in class."

The other Gryffindors could all see his point. So, they all agreed to let things continue as they had thus far, without any interference from Snape.

As Penelope came back in, they all went back to their individual cauldrons, and began to review another few potions before it became really late at night.

The next day, as Harry was listening to Wood's pep talk (or at least pretending to do so), he wondered just how things would play out. By this point, just about everyone in the school knew about how, while Snape generally disliked all Gryffindors, he especially disliked Harry Potter for reasons unknown. Harry himself just hoped that he wouldn't have to watch out for Snape so much that he would miss the Snitch.

Meanwhile, in the crowd, Hermione was carrying her wand in her hand and a worried look on her face (much to the confusion of Neville, who was nearby but too busy looking out for Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins). After Malfoy had used the Leg-Locker Curse on Neville, she got the idea of using it on Snape if the Potions Master tried anything.

Meanwhile, back in the locker room, Wood was telling Harry that if they ever needed an early capture of the Snitch, then it was now. Meanwhile, Ron peeked out of the locker room and noticed something: Dumbledore was out there. Now the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team – Harry especially – felt better, knowing that Snape wouldn't dare try anything with the Headmaster out there, watching the whole thing. Indeed, when they walked out and saw the angry look on Snape's face, Dumbledore's presence may have just been the reason why.

As the game got started, Hermione suddenly sensed someone coming up behind her. Turning around, she saw that it was Neville, looking a little worried.

"Hermione," he said, trying to keep himself as calm as possible, "it's Malfoy and the others."

Sure enough, Malfoy, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, were in their presence.

"Well, well," Malfoy said haughtily, "I didn't see you there."

Hermione purposely ignored him and focused on the game, while Neville did his best to follow suit. However, Malfoy was nowhere close to being finished with them.

"You know something," he purposely said aloud for anyone nearby to hear, "I think they purposely let onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team the people they feel sorry for. Let's see… first there's Potter, who's got no family… then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money… maybe both of you should try out for the team, since you've got no brains, Longbottom, and you've got no knowledge of true wizarding culture for how smart you claim to be, Granger."

If Hermione was at all insulted by Malfoy's insinuation that she was ignorant of the very world she lived and studied in, then she didn't show it; Neville, on the other hand, was slowly turning a dangerous red. Then, with such bravery and wit which even Hermione hadn't expected, Neville turned around and told Malfoy, albeit a little nervously, "If that's true, Malfoy, then why don't you try out for the Gryffindor team? Because I don't think you or your friends have any talent in Potions?"

Hermione had to admit that she didn't see that one coming, and she did her best not to smirk or shake from laughing. Likewise, Malfoy had to admit that he didn't he didn't see that one coming either, but on the other hand, he looked positively insulted.

Neville's newfound bravery surprised even himself – perhaps getting a new wand and finding out he wasn't so bad at Potions had given him new confidence in himself?

"Oh?" he said in a haughty tone. "What gives you that idea, Longbottom?"

"The fact that Snape practically gives out grades like candy to you," Neville said simply. "No matter how badly you foul up your own potions," he then added.

For all of Malfoy's willingness to taunt and humiliate others, he certainly did not take to being taunted or humiliated himself. Unable to stand for it, he strode up towards the round-faced Gryffindor, taking out his own wand and getting ready to hex him – but Neville was ready for him.

"Locomotor Mortis!" he shouted, and Malfoy's legs suddenly snapped together, causing him to fall forward and face-down at Neville's feet. With their instincts finally kicking in, Crabbe and Goyle picked Malfoy up and carried him off, dumbly looking for someone who might be able to take the curse off of him.

Neville looked up to find that Hermione had finally turned around, and was looking at him with something akin to awe. "Neville, that was… I mean, I can't believe you…"

As she looked for the right words, Neville suddenly noticed something, and pointed at something up in the air, exclaiming, "Hermione, look! Harry's got the Snitch!"

Indeed, Harry had caught the devious Snitch. Mere moments before, he had noticed something past Snape, and deciding to give his Potions Master a little surprise, he zoomed at him as though he were going to ram him… but then rushed right past him in a blur of scarlet, catching the Snitch.

All around them, the stands erupted in excitement. No one could remember the Snitch being caught so quickly, so this had to be a record. As Harry flew in close to the ground and jumped off his broom, he couldn't believe it either, that he had caught the Snitch in less than five minutes. As the Gryffindors came spilling out onto the pitch to congratulate him, Harry could also see Dumbledore sedately walking his way. Once the Headmaster had arrived, he quietly said to Harry, "Good job, my boy… nice to see that you haven't been dwelling on your dreams too much…"

However, for a brief moment, Harry thought he saw Snape some distance away, looking white-faced and tight-lipped, and as Harry turned away, he thought maybe he heard the Potions Master spitting bitterly on the ground.

Far beyond the outskirts of the village of Hogsmeade, the Darkness was hiding in a cave.

She knew that it would do no good to cause yet another bit of random chaos at this sporting event as she did at the previous one. No matter, because she would conserve her resources for trying to obtain the Lost Plant of Gilgamesh at the end of the academic school year, when there would be less people to notice her – not that the school's hundreds of students could really do anything to stop her, anyway.

For now, she would leave the premises of Hogwarts, and even all of Great Britain, turning her attention to something of significant interest to her elsewhere in the world – something which she would have to acquire there in order to make her plans play out here.

Yet again, she would have smiled if she were capable of doing so.

Amu was certainly pleased, because everything was going to plan…

Harry took his time in the locker room, relishing in the fact that he had painlessly been able to win a Quidditch match with Snape as its referee. Even as he walked out to the shed to safely store his broom away, he happily relived the events of the previous hour, with the brief but still exciting event and the subsequent praise from his fellow Gryffindors for it. The fact that Snape hadn't managed to do anything to him either was a bonus.

However, at this point, Harry noticed a hooded figure swiftly walking from the front steps of the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest. The very manner in which this figure walked indicated that whoever it was didn't want to be seen. Looking closer, Harry could identify that prowl as Snape's.

What would Snape be doing, sneaking outside while everyone else is at dinner? Harry thought to himself. Thinking about it as he went along, Harry jumped back onto his broom and took off. He glided silently over the castle, observing Snape's route from above, and as he saw the Potions Master draw closer to the forest's edge, Harry followed. As he was doing it, Harry realized that it would probably be better if he had his Invisibility Cloak with him at this point, but it was too late for that now…

Once Snape entered the forest, tracking him proved to be a bit more of a challenge for Harry, because the canopy was so thick. Not knowing where to look, Harry slowly and silently flew around in circles until he heard something.

Once he heard someone's voice, Harry stopped where he was in midair, hovering as he leaned in to listen to whoever was in the shadowy clearing below.

Quirrell was stuttering worse than ever, wondering aloud why Snape would want to meet him here, of all places, to which Snape replied in an icy voice about how the students weren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all. Harry leaned in even closer, so much that he nearly touched the treetops. Meanwhile, the conversation continued, with the Potions Master demanding to know how to get past Fluffy, threatening a nearly-petrified Quirrell with the fact that he didn't want Snape as an enemy.

With one last comment about how Quirrell ought to consider where his loyalties lie, Snape threw his cloak back over his head, and strode off. Harry lingered for a little bit longer, at was about to fly back towards the castle, when he suddenly heard Quirrell speak again.

"That rigid fool," Quirrell said angrily, seemingly to himself, "if only he weren't so mindlessly devoted to his own ridiculous cause, he might be able to actually see things as they really are."

Harry nearly fell off his broom; not only was it what Quirrell had said, but how he had said it. How come he wasn't nervous or stuttering at all?

Harry quickly flew off, deeper into the Forbidden Forest, instead of back towards Hogwarts; he didn't want Snape or Quirrell see him overhead. In a wide arc, he turned around and ascended even higher into the air, to keep out of sight and return to the castle itself from a different direction. Once he was back at the Quidditch pitch, he quickly put his beloved Nimbus Two Thousand back in its shed, and briskly walked back towards the castle.

In his tower, Pim was going over the latest results of his test with the nuclear reactor. It turned out that using magical safeguards as well as technological safeguards to prevent an accident was really a rather good idea. It was really the only alternative he had, between that and the glowing crystals which he was still unsure about.

The timing couldn't have been better, really. Spring holiday was coming up, and to make up for the incident over Christmas break with that tricky mirror, Pim had a special place in mind to take Harry for their holiday. And now that he had the nuclear reactor working, he could speed up a certain other process just in time…

In one of his many cavernous vaults hidden inside the surrounding mountains, Pim had more than merely treasures which he could use to pay or occasionally even bribe people with. Among them were various supplies and even experiments of sorts, and in one big container, there was something which was an answer to one of Pim's problems.

No one knew what the original name for this product was, but the ancient Greeks called it the "Clay of Life." There were many claims about its origins, and the most popular one had been that the Titan Prometheus had stolen it from Mount Olympus as he was stealing fire to give to Man, and that it was the original clay from which the first race of humans were made from (the same race of humans which, according to Greek mythology, were made as far back as the Titans' rule over the world, but then were destroyed by the great flood, and then replaced with the stronger men made from the stones which the survivors Deucalion and Pyrrha threw over their shoulders).

Fortunately, the British Ministry of Magic did not to consider this substance to be "Dark," probably because they didn't even know that it existed; one way or another, most texts describing the Clay of Life had been destroyed or lost over the millennia. This made things even easier for Pim, who was now creating a new body for himself.

Even now, in one of the upper levels of his tower, which was otherwise empty and unused, there was a big tank in which there appeared to be a male adolescent human figure, floating peacefully in the slightly golden fluid. In another few days, it would look like a young adult, just as Pim did for so long.

Pim was pleased, for things seemed to be going his way once again.

A few floors up, Harry was drawn to the familiar voices of Ron and Hermione, who happened to be arguing back and forth over whether to look for Harry or to wait for him, and if so, then where they should do so. However, their argument was rendered moot by the sight of their friend approaching them.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Where have you been?"

"Yeah, mate, everyone's waiting for you at the party back in the common room!" Ron added. "Fred and George got lots of stuff to eat and drink there."

Making sure that they were in a deserted corner with no one to hear them, Harry told them about what he had just witnessed with Snape and Quirrell. As if Snape's own confirmation that the object being guarded by Fluffy was the Philosopher's Stone wasn't enough, there was also the revelation about Quirrell speaking normally and even angrily, and not sounding nervous or stuttering as he talked.

Both Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, simply shocked. However, before either of them could respond, they heard Peeves bouncing off some suits of armor, and decided to vacate the area and head back to Gryffindor Tower before the poltergeist could spot them.

As they approached the portrait hole, the Fat Lady couldn't help but comment about the moods they seemed to be in. "Is everything alright?"

Deciding to answer for all of them, Harry simply told her, "Nothing, we just got something on our minds, that's all."

The Fat Lady nodded, and then said, "Quand le mystère est trop impressionnant, on n'ose pas désobéir."

All three Gryffindors looked at her, a little confused, but she just shrugged and said, "I apologize, it's just something which I saw in a book once. That was the original French, and in English, it translates to, 'When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey."

Harry's eyes brightened a little, as did Hermione's, because they both recognized the quote. "I remember where that comes from, I read that book back in primary school," he said to the Fat Lady and for Ron and Hermione to hear.

"So did I!" Hermione exclaimed a little excitedly, while Ron looked to be in the dark.

"Anyway, what is the password?" the Fat Lady asked, not forgetting her duty.

After they gave her the password and then entered, they joined the lively victory party, but even as they ate and drank, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hid what they were truly thinking about at the moment and what they thought of it.

A/N: I admit, this was something of a transitional or filler chapter, but I hope I did it well. At least I finally got around to having Harry find out about the Philosopher's Stone and what I call the Lost Plant of Gilgamesh. I hope I didn't drag it out too long with the suspense through all these chapters…

Regarding the chapter title… it's a quote based on a line from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry: "When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey." (I think this sentiment sums up the adventurous, mystery-solving spirit which Harry and his friends share throughout the books.)

With Ron and Neville, I decided to have them get new wands sooner, just because. As for Neville, just because he now has a new wand that works, he won't suddenly become perfect at everything he does; he'll just be less likely to cause problems with it. And as for what comes out of either of their wands the first time they use them… what did you think of Ron's knight on horseback or Neville's tree?

What did you think of the twist with Dumbledore visiting Quirrell and finding him Voldemort-less? (Maybe this could have actually happened at one point in the canon book?)

With the identity of "the Darkness"… yeah, it's Amu, I decided to stop beating around the bush and just reveal it already.

Also, how was the twist with Quirrell not sounding nervous or stuttering?

As for the thing with Pim and his new body… maybe I've been reading and watching too much science-fiction (or maybe Pim has!).

Furthermore, the thing which the Fat Lady said in French was the quote from The Little Prince from which this chapter's title is derived.

You know what do to… review!

–Quillian
(First posted: December 30, 2007)