Hermione returned to Hogwarts the day before term started and was desperate to hear about everything that went on while she was gone. A part of her was happy they didn't find anything out about Nicholas Flamel without her… but then she heard about all of the trouble Harry and Ron got into while she was gone.
"So I don't understand," said Hermione as they were lounging in the toasty Gryffindor Common Room. "It was a mirror?"
"Yeah, Dumbledore called it the 'Mirror of Esired.'"
"But you didn't see your reflection?"
"Well, we did," said Harry. "But we saw an alternate reflection. It shows you what you most desire."
"I was head boy and holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup! It was wicked!" Ron said as he stuffed his face with some treacle tarts he took from the Great Hall.
"And I saw my mum and dad," Harry added quietly.
Hermione paused, giving Harry a moment… and then she pounced. "But that doesn't change the fact you were out of bed, roaming the halls after hours three times! You're bloody lucky Filch didn't catch you."
"Yeah, but that's the best part," said Ron with his mouth full.
"Not getting caught? I'd certainly say so."
"No. How we didn't get caught. Harry, tell her."
"On Christmas morning, I got a present from Dumbledore. It was my dad's old invisibility cloak!"
"Why is Dumbledore even giving you presents anyways?" Hermione couldn't get her head around the Headmaster of Hogwarts giving students gifts… especially gifts that allowed students to break rules. That seemed very counterproductive to being a headmaster.
"I dunno," said Harry. "I guess because it was my dad's?"
"But still," said Hermione. "It's a little odd, don't you think?"
"I guess."
"Right. It is odd. And you lot didn't find anything out on Nicholas Flamel?" she said with an accusatory tone. Ron took offense.
"Yeah, well, neither did you."
"I'm going to change that right now," said Hermione. "Who wants to go to the library?"
It was another unsuccessful trip to the library. Hermione was so frustrated. It shouldn't be this hard to find a man seemingly so important as Nicholas Flamel. Harry didn't help research as much because of Quidditch practice, unfortunately, so that left Ron and Hermione alone a lot. She was excited when Ron suggested a game of Wizard Chess - she and Bert had practiced a lot and she finally was able to beat her father a few times before she came back to Hogwarts (and she was almost positive he didn't just let her win). They set up the Wizard's Chess Set in the Gryffindor Common Room while Harry did his Quidditch thing. They were deep into their second game (Ron won the first, but it wasn't a complete annihilation like before) when Harry came into the common room.
"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen-" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told them some very bad news: Professor Snape was to be the Quidditch referee for the big match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.
"Really break your leg," said Ron.
"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
At that moment, Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.
Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up recognized the curse, and deftly performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart, and he got to his feet, trembling.
"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"
Neville shook his head.
"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor. Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.
Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."
Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.
"Thanks, Harry… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"
Hermione smiled. She was glad Harry and Ron had warmed up to Neville, too. As her first friend at Hogwarts, she was somewhat protective of him. As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.
"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever —"
He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.
"I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here — listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"
Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't been so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.
"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. She knew exactly what book she wanted. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.
At last she found what she was looking for.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.
"The what?" said Harry and Ron.
"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look — read that, there."
She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:
"The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)."
"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it. That's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"
The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Philosopher's Stone if they had one. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.
"I'm going to play," he told Ron and Hermione. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."
"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione.
Parvati was beside herself. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful (no one had done it for seven years), but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?
"See, I told you you'd get into Quidditch," Fay said one night in their dorm room.
"It's not fair, is it?" Hermione said.
"Snape refereeing? Definitely not!" Fay agreed.
"No, well, that too. What I meant is that winning the House Cup depends on sports. It ought to be purely academics," Hermione said, finishing up her potions homework.
"You sound like Padma," laughed Parvati. She handed Hermione her Potions homework to check. With Hermione's help, Parvati was getting much better in her classes and actually got better marks than her sister a few times. "You should have been in Ravenclaw with how smart you are."
"But then she wouldn't be best friends with the boy who lived," Lavender gushed. All she ever thought about was boys.
"He's just a friend," Hermione blushed.
"Suuurrreee he is," Lavender said.
And he was just a friend, Hermione told herself… but she wondered how she'd react if Lavender started talking about Ron. The thought of being "more than a friend" with him was positively revolting.
Hermione and Ron wished Harry luck as he headed into the Quidditch locker rooms. She hoped he couldn't see how worried she was. They found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and they were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.
"Now, don't forget, it's 'Locomotor Mortis,'" Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.
"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."
"Ron, look!" Hermione pointed into the sea of people. "Dumbledore's here! He won't let anything happen to Harry!"
"What's gonna happen to Harry?" Neville asked.
"Nothing now." Hermione's anxiety started to subside.
The match was just about to start. Snape looked angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look — they're off. Ouch!"
Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."
Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"
Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."
Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.
"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."
"Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
"I'm warning you, Malfoy — one more word —"
"Ron!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry — !"
"What? Where?"
Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.
"You're in luck, Weasley. Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.
Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape — she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.
Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches — the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.
The stands erupted; it had to be a record! No one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.
"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front of her.
Hermione, Ron, Neville, Parvati, and the rest of the Gryffindors marched back to the castle, singing, cheering, and pumping their fists. It was complete bedlam in the Common Room. Once Fred and George got back to the Common Room from changing from the match, the party even got more out of control. Hermione didn't even mind. In fact, she even saw Percy cheering along with them.
They kept looking over to the portrait door for Harry but he was taking forever. Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Keeper, was usually the last to leave the locker room, but even he showed up after a bit.
"Where on earth is Harry?" Hermione yelled to Ron over the noise.
"No clue," Ron yelled back, following her gaze to the portrait door. "Figured he'd be here before Wood came back."
Another half hour went by before Harry finally climbed into the Common Room. "Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked.
"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright — talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the Common Room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."
"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this…"
Harry shut the door behind them and took a deep breath.
"I was getting ready to leave when I saw Snape go into the Forbidden Forest. So I grabbed my broom and followed him."
"You did what?" Hermione gasped.
Harry ignored her and continued. "He went to go meet Professor Quirrell in a clearing, so I landed in a tree and listened in… and we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus' — I reckon there are other things guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through —"
"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," groaned Ron.