Hermione returned one day before the term began, to which Ciara thanked her profusely for her Christmas gift, reading it every second she got the chance.
While that had Hermione beaming with joy and pride, they had to inform her of what had happened over their break. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row and disappointed that they hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.
While the boys justified the fact that it was a holiday, and holidays weren't meant for researching, Ciara just hung her head and said a soft, "Sorry, 'Mione."
After that, they set to researching and nearly turned the library upside down in their search for Nicolas Flamel. Though, it was usually just Ciara, Hermione, and Ron, since Harry had to practice for the upcoming Quidditch Match; Gryffindor v.s. Hufflepuff. It was on a particularly wet and muddy day that Harry, after getting himself cleaned up, told the trio of researchers the bad news.
They had been sitting in the common room, Hermione and Ron trying to teach Ciara how to play chess; Hermione being the opponent, and Ron coaching Ciara. "Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron the moment Harry sat down, "Ciara needs to concen —" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
Ciara's head snapped up and she realized he was right.
Harry did look terrible. His skin, which usually sported a slight tan, now looked ashen, as if he just watched someone die. Ciara swallowed.
This couldn't be good...
Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg," Ciara suggested.
"Really break your leg," said Ron.
"Wait, lets not-"
"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
"Respectfully Harry," Ciara said, placing a hand on his knee, "I'd rather lose the house cup than have Snape kill you.
Harry scowled, the idea of losing the house cup clearly revolting to him.
And it was at that moment that 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 LegLocker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.
At the sight of the poor boy, everyone in the common room started laughing, except for Hermione and Ciara. While Hermione ran up to Neville and performed the counter curse, Ciara scowled at the common room.
"Shut the hell up, the whole bloody lot of you!" She shouted and everyone fell silent. "If you were in his position, who you like it if everyone made fun of you for something you couldn't control?!" No one answered, until another first year, Lavender Brown, spoke up.
"What does it matter," she questioned, "It's only Neville."
Ciara saw red.
"Locomotor Wibbly!"
Lavender, who was standing up, nearly crashed into the ground as her legs wobbled beneath her. Parvati Patil, who was sitting next to her, grabbed her arm to keep her from falling and sent Ciara a stunned look. No one, not even Hermione, had been able to master the Jelly-Legs Jinx. Her and one of the other dorm mates, Sophie Roper, threw one of Lavender's arms over their shoulders and hastily went back up to the dorm. Ciara sighed and suddenly noticed that the whole common room was staring at her, mouth agape.
The blush on her face, which had previously been caused by anger, was now from embarrassment. "Carry on," she squeaked before ducking over to Neville. Her embarrassment faded when she reached him and she looked at him in concern, "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
Ciara felt a stab of rage at her cousin but she forced it down, putting on a calm facade for Neville.
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"
"I don't want more trouble."
"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, looking near to tears.
Ciara, feeling a stab of sympathy for him, took the chocolate frog that Harry gave her and passed it to him. Neville glanced up in hesitation before taking the chocolate.
"Don't worry about Malfoy," Ciara said with a smile, "I live with him, and trust me when I say he only lashes out like this when he's jealous."
"Him? Jealous of me? Of what? What do I have that he doesn't?"
"Happiness."
He looked shocked, like the thought hadn't even occurred to him, before his lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.
"Thanks, Ciara . . . I think I'll go to bed. . . . D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"
He wordlessly passed her the card and as soon as the door to the Gryffindor dormitory closed, she passed the card to Harry. Ron wheeled towards her, staring at her incredulity.
"Happiness? Malfoy's jealous of his happiness?"
"Shut up, Ron-"
"I've found him!" Harry said, pulling their attention away from their spat. "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, looking like she was told that she had aced all of her exams.
"Stay there!" she said excitedly before bounding up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. The remanding friends 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."
"This? Is light?" said Ron and Ciara shared the same expression Ron did.
"Hell, 'Mione," she said softly, "I don't know if you're a genius or an absolute madwoman."
Hermione quickly shushed them both, flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself as if her life depended on it.
And, at last, she found what she was looking for.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily, as he usually was when Hermione was excited.
Hermione skillfully ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"
This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected. While the boys looked confused and questioned, "The what?" Ciara paled quite considerably, "Oh my god," she whispered.
But Hermione only seemed to hear the boy, as she said exasperatedly, "Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look — read that, there."
She pushed the book toward them, and the oblivious duo read the passage. Ciara on the other hand, was about to have a mental breakdown. She knew exactly what the Sorcerer's Stone does (of course she knew, her uncle has been talking about it for weeks) and she remembered, being tucked into the farthest corner of the basement, that she could faintly hear Lucius Malfoy telling someone to 'Get-That-STONE!'
"Ciara breath."
"My uncles after the stone," Ciara suddenly said, her head shooting up and her friends staring at her in concern, "He's been trying to get the stone since before I came here, since before my birthday. He probably sent Snape to try and get it." She suddenly looked very panicked, "I don't know anything, I swear I don't-"
"It's okay," Hermione said, "we believe you. But that must be what that dog's guarding! 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?"
Hermione suddenly grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder, "Let's go to the library and research it some more! We probably need to find out all we can on it." The boys quickly followed in suit, packing up their own things and throwing them over their shoulders.
Ciara, however, did not.
"You guys go ahead," she said, shifting from foot to foot, "I'll catch up."
Her friends faltered, "Oh? Are you sure? We can-"
"Yeah," she said, cutting Hermione off, "I just... need to talk to Professor McGonagall real quick. I'll be there as soon as I finish."
"Oh... okay. See you when you get done," And after that, her friends were gone.
Ciara sighed before packing up the things of her own and began making her way to Professor McGonagall's office.
She had some explaining to do...
✨?¬レᄀ
"Come in."
It was too late to turn back.
Ciara's hand gripped the handle of the door as she pushed it open, revealing herself to Professor McGonagall. Her head of houses' office was simple, a simple brown desk that stood out among the red and gold. Professor McGonagall's green peered up from behind a paper she was grading, "Miss Riddle? What can I do for you?"
Ciara said nothing, opting to walk towards the desk and sitting down heavily in one of the two chairs before the older woman, "I've come to turn myself in, Professor."
"And why, pray tell, would you do that?"
"Because I hit Lavender Brown with a Jelly-Legs Jinx."
Professor McGonagall's eyes met hers and just by looking at her, she could tell there was more to the story, "Explain, if you would, why this happened and how."
So she did. She explained how Neville had been hit with a leg-locking curse by Malfoy, how the common room was laughing about it, to how she snapped at them, and how Lavender made her disrespectful, dismissive, and utterly rude comment about 'It's only Neville.'
"I couldn't just stay quiet while someone was being so blatantly dismissive and neglected, Professor. It wasn't right."
Professor McGonagall was quiet, leading Ciara to look up. She expected anger, disappointment, shame to be on Professor McGonagall's face, but what she didn't expect was a small hint of... pride?
She suddenly slid over a tin that was full of something that smelled incredibly sweet, "Have a biscuit, Miss Riddle."
While Ciara was taken aback by the request, she was more than happy to try one of them, which she bit into happily.
Oh, snickerdoodle.
As Ciara happily munched away at her treat, McGonagall was still trying to find the words to go forth with the situation.
"Miss Riddle," she began, bringing her student to a halt, "This is not the first, nor will it be the last, case of bullying, and you are not the first students here to take matters into their own hands."
Ciara looked down, shame hanging from her frame.
"However-" she looked up "-you are the first person in my years of teaching here, that has also reported themselves along with the bullying. And you were the first student in your year to cast a successful Jell-Legs Jinx. I think that noble feat deserves Gryffindor ten house points.
Ciara relaxed slightly, a small smile on her face.
"However-"
Ciara tensed up again.
"-you were right when saying you should not have done that, so I expect five more inches on your transfiguration essay. Will that punishment be enough for you?"
Ciara, ever the unpretentious person, nodded, "Yes, Professor McGonagall."
"Good. Now, go spend some time with your friends and take a few biscuits for the road. Merlin knows I have too many."
Ciara smiled, and after stuffing a few biscuits in her pocket she left throwing a cry of, "Thanks Professor!" As she closed the door.
The older woman suddenly slumped in her chair, seemingly drained, but she couldn't hide the small smile on her face.
"Ahh, now can you say, that I was right Minerva?"
In the chair in front of her desk, the one that Ciara hadn't taken, sat Professor Dumbledore, happily munching on a biscuit of his own.
Minerva smiled and she couldn't help but be reminded of the DADA teacher her third year of Hogwarts. A woman who was brave and determined, smart and witty, loyal and kind, ambitious and resourceful. A woman who was kind to everyone, but didn't hesitate to put someone back in their place.
A woman who looked a great deal like Ciara Riddle.
"Yes Albus," she said, still smiling, "You were right."
"Ahh, satisfaction has never been so sweet."
"Quiet or get out of my office Albus."
✨?¬レᄀ
"Wait, slow down. What happened?"
Harry franticly paced in front of Ciara, Hermione, and Ron sitting in the armchairs by the fireplace. The three friends stared at him in concern. Usually, after winning a Quidditch game (it was Gryffindor v.s. Hufflepuff, of course, they won) Harry would be smiling throughout the night, completely relaxed and usually cracking jokes with the Weasley Twins.
But tonight was different. Tonight, Harry looked as stressed as Ciara was when she got her Howler at the beginning of the year. He had been fine after the game, he was as happy and relaxed as he usually was after winning a Quidditch match. But he had left a little while after he changed out of his uniform, claiming he would be back soon and not to worry.
After an hour, he returned, his hands shaking and his eyes wide in fear. The three friends questioned his behavior, but all he said was, "Not here, not now. Later, when the party's over."
That had been over two hours ago.
"Bloody hell, mate," Ron exclaimed from his chair, "Calm down!"
"Harry, what's wrong," Hermione asked, her expression twisted in concern.
Harry, seeming to lack the words, ran his fingers through his hair and continued pacing, his hands still shaking. Ciara stood from her spot and gently grabbed Harry's hand. His eyes jumped to hers and she gently pulled him over to the couch, sitting him on the side opposite of her. She quickly reclaimed her seat and seeing that Harry was a bit calmer asked, "What happened?"
Ron and Hermione shared a look.
Now that he seemed calmer and had collected himself, Harry told them about what happened while he was gone. How Snape forced Quirrell to meet him in the woods, how he knew about the Sorcerer's Stone, how he was forcing Quirrell to help him get past Hagrid's three-headed-dog, and how he was threatening Quirrel to do as he asked.
"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone," Hermione exclaimed, "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?" Harry questioned with an alarmed look on his face.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron
At this revelation, Ciara groaned, throwing her head back, "We're so screwed."
