Disclaimer: All characters, events, and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, respectively, everything else is my own invention.
The Potter Timeline
Year 1 Episode 6 - The Scar and The Stone
Harry stared up at the ceiling of his four-poster with a grin.
It was Saturday, his first weekend at Hogwarts.
No classes, no boring lectures, and no disgruntled professors itching to deduct points from his House for one grievance or another. Harry was free to do what he wanted for the next two days...though not entirely. Despite no classes on the weekend, several of his professors ensured he wouldn't go through that weekend homework-free. And he had an exam in Binns' class on Monday. To his chagrin, the boy would have to allot some time for studying. But he also had a certain book-smart friend he knew would be glad to join him in the activity.
Besides all this, Harry had a promise to keep. Hagrid sent him a note, asking him to visit so the giant could hear about the kid's first week at Hogwarts. Harry was eager to see his big friend, his curious looking hut outside the castle walls, and maybe even a glimpse of the Forbidden Forest. But he was also eager to ask him about the break-in at Gringott's. Maybe Hagrid could fill in some of the blanks to that mystery.
After several days of using Hermione's irritating waking charm, Harry was getting used to rising early. He disabled the charm on the bed the night before and contemplated not using it again the following week.
He got up and dressed in a brown pullover and blue jeans. It was a relief not having to wear his Hogwarts uniform for once. He stepped into the loo, dowsed his messy hair under the sink faucet, and after, dried it. He then jumped in front of the dorm mirror and combed it. That was better - he'd at least look presentable today. Harry then grabbed the copy of The Daily Prophet with the Gringott's article from his bedside table. Marching out of the dorm to the tune of Seamus' famous snoring, he headed downstairs to the common room.
His feet had barely touched down on the common room floor when a brownish blur flew out of an armchair and enveloped him in a fierce hug. Harry was bewildered to find his face covered with fluffy brown hair. Hermione then released him and stepped back, throwing the boy a smile combined with a teary glint in her eyes.
"Hermione!" he complained with flushed cheeks, "What was that for?"
While Harry was glad to have her as his friend, all this hugging and kissing was going to have to stop. It was embarrassing.
"Lavender told me what you did yesterday," she said as if she was going to cry.
Harry gulped, wondering what he did wrong.
"...What did I do?" he asked with a worried look.
"You stood up for me to those Hufflepuffs. Thank you."
"...Oh," Harry said with relief, but was slightly embarrassed. He shrugged his shoulders.
"I'd...stand up for any friend of mine," he uttered, gazing down while rubbing his shoe across the floor.
The girl beamed at him. He was amazed at seeing her wear a pink jumper with khaki pants. He'd never seen her in regular clothes before and without the Hogwarts uniform she looked like a normal eleven-year-old and not so bookish.
An awkward silence fell between them and the boy wasn't sure what to say. But then he remembered his promise.
"Um...I'm going to visit Hagrid later. Want to come?"
"Sure," she replied cheerfully.
"Okay. Let's get some breakfast first."
From the common room, down the stairwells, through the main corridor, and into the Great Hall, it seemed as though they had the castle to themselves. Barely any students were awake at this hour and those who were didn't pay much attention to the two first-years. This was a relief after all the dramatic events the day before.
When they sat down at the Gryffindor table, a bowl of porridge with fresh strawberries appeared in front of Hermione, while a full English breakfast materialized on Harry's plate. As they ate, Harry pulled out the newspaper and laid it in front of them.
"When we visit Hagrid, I want to ask him about this," he told her, pointing to the front page spread on the break-in.
Hermione perused the contents of the article while taking a few spoonfuls of porridge.
"This is serious, Harry," she commented with a squinty look, "from what I've read about Gringott's, it's not easy to break in and steal something, especially from their underground vaults."
"I know. And the vault they tried to break into was the very one Hagrid and I visited when he took me there."
"Really?" she asked with heightened interest.
Harry nodded at her.
"713."
"What was in it?"
"Just a small package the size of a fist. Hagrid acted very secretive about it and wouldn't tell me what it was."
"I suppose, then, that Professor Dumbledore had it brought here for safe-keeping."
"That's what Hagrid said, that besides Gringott's, Hogwarts was the safest place for it."
"What do you hope Hagrid will tell you?"
Harry folded up the paper.
"If he or Dumbledore knew someone was going to try to steal it and who it might be. Apparently, we got there just in time."
They finished breakfast and headed out of the castle toward the Forbidden Forest. It was a fine Saturday morning with cool air and crisp sunlight. A slight breeze, signaling an early Fall, criss-crossed the narrow dirt path Harry and Hermione walked along. As they moved around the high wall of the old castle's southern flank, Harry wondered if the girl might have an answer to another perplexing issue.
"Hermione, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," she replied cheerfully.
"Would you have any idea why everyone seems to be avoiding me?"
The girl's expression turned worried all of the sudden. This perplexed the boy even more.
"...Yes," she finally said. He looked at her wide-eyed.
"You do," he uttered with surprise.
Hermione stopped, seeming hesitant to answer further. When Harry stopped after, she turned to face him.
"…They're afraid of you, Harry," she finally told him.
The kid was astonished.
"Afraid of me?"
Hermione nodded.
"But...why?"
"Well, first of all, you're The Boy Who Lived. You're the only known survivor of the killing curse. Second, in the process, you somehow destroyed the most powerful dark wizard ever. Those alone make people think you're already a powerful wizard yourself. That's why you're famous. But that's not all."
Hermione resumed walking and Harry moved beside her.
"When you flew on a broomstick after Neville's Remembrall like you'd done it your entire life and then made the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their Seeker, all on your very first day, you can imagine everyone would be in awe of you. Not to mention you're the only first-year to stand up to Malfoy and his gang - no one else has the guts to do so."
Harry frowned.
"But I'm not a powerful wizard, I'm just...a kid."
"But they don't think so. You should hear some of the rumors floating around."
"Rumors?"
Hermione nodded.
"That if someone looks you in the eyes, you can hypnotize them, and that you can knock someone out cold just by touching them."
"What?" Harry uttered in bewilderment, "that's ridiculous!"
"I know. But that's what some of the students have been saying."
"But how I can I convince them that I'm not like that?"
"Give it some time, Harry. I think the biggest thing is that they look at you as being special, that you're not one of them. They can't relate to what you've done or who they think you are."
Harry nodded. This made sense, but still seemed silly.
"Well, I'm glad at least one person isn't afraid of me," he told the girl while throwing her a grateful look. Hermione blushed.
Soon, the Forbidden Forest appeared before them. Despite the sunny day, the forest was dark inside and filled with an eerie mist. Just the sight of it was both spooky and fascinating. And outside the forest sat a large, circular wooden house with smoke rising out of a small chimney at it's top. Surrounding the house on either side were pumpkin patches, some of the orange melons appearing the size of boulders to Harry's eyes. A huge stack of wood sat up against the hut and an enormous crossbow hung from the wall next to an old wooden door. The weapon was as long as Harry. Beneath this sat a pair of muddy boots. Harry knew he could easily stand inside just one of them with both his feet.
As they approached the door to the hut, they heard a dog barking inside. Hermione looked concerned and waited until Harry walked up the short steps and knocked on the door. The dog barked a few more times and they heard the heavy clumping of feet.
"Back Fang! Back!" a voice boomed through the walls of the hut. The door creaked open and the large, bearded face of Hagrid appeared.
"Harry! Hermione! Come on in, you two! Come on in!" the man uttered with a grin.
"Hey, Hagrid. Thanks!" Harry responded, turning to look at Hermione who now cautiously walked behind him into the house.
They were immediately hit by the smell of mothballs. A gnarled, wooden table sat in the center, a warm hearth with a crackling fire was off to the side and a black cauldron with something boiling in it was foisted over the fire. They saw several hams, a chicken, and a couple of pheasants hanging overhead amidst pots and pans that seemed as old as the Middle Ages. A huge bed with a patchwork quilt sat near the back and the rest of the space was crammed so full of tools and knick-knacks, Harry could barely take it all in. The one object that stood out like a sore thumb among this mess was Hagrid's tiny, pink umbrella sitting against the wooden bed post. But while Harry was otherwise fascinated by his friend's cozy cabin, Hermione seemed a bit overwhelmed and out of her element.
No sooner had the pair entered than a big black boarhound shot up from the floor and raced toward them, its floppy cheeks flapping around just like its enormous ears. At first, the two kids were taken aback, but when Hagrid's dog sniffed at Harry's sweater and gave him a friendly nudge, Harry smiled and petted the huge canine on the head.
"Now, now Fang! Be kind teh our guests!" the man told his pet with a grimace, "and don' you two worry. Fang's just a big puppy, an' that's all."
The big puppy now turned to Hermione and started licking her hands. She threw Harry a look of revulsion. Harry chuckled.
"Sit down now, if yeh will. Would yeh like some tea?"
"Yes, please," Harry responded.
"Thanks, Hagrid," Hermione threw in.
They sat down and Fang promptly dropped his head on Hermione's lap, gazing at her with the hope she'd pet him. She obliged the dog, and he licked his lips, sending slobber onto her pants. Harry chuckled both at this and the contorted look on the girl's face.
The giant handed each of them a dirty teacup full of steaming tea on a dirty-looking saucer. They glanced at each other in amusement but said nothing while taking a sip.
"Would yeh like some cake? Made it me-self this mornin'."
The plate in his hand contained what looked like large lumps of coal with raisins in them.
"Um...no thanks, Hagrid. We just had breakfast," Harry informed him.
Hagrid nodded and sat back in a great big rocking chair with his tea, stuffing one of the lumps into his mouth whole.
"So, you two," he said through a mouthful, "how's things been yer firs' week at Hogwarts?"
The first-years looked at each other.
"Hectic and a little crazy for me, Hagrid," Harry informed the giant while giving him a slight frown, "but I've had a good friend help me through a lot of it."
He glanced at Hermione and the girl blushed.
"That's great teh hear, Harry. How 'bout you, young miss?"
"Hogwarts is everything I hoped it would be - so much to do and so much to learn. But I've also had a good friend help me too, with some of our...classmate problems."
She threw a smile at Harry who chuckled.
"Well, you'll find news travels fast at Hogwarts. Don't yeh let those other kids push you 'round, Hermione. Professor McGonagall has been praisin' yeh teh the skies fer yer schoolwork. Says yer one of the brightest she's seen in a while an' that's sayin' a lot, mind yeh."
Hermione blushed deeply.
"Really?" she uttered in surprise and embarrassment.
"Yep," Hagrid replied, and Harry beamed at the girl. The big man continued.
"And as fer you, Harry, makin' Seeker on the Quidditch team yer firs' day! It makes ol' Hagrid here proud. Way teh go!"
The giant shook his fist in praise of the boy, and it was the first time Harry noticed the man's hand was the size of his entire head.
"Thanks, though I still have a lot to learn," Harry replied with pink cheeks.
"An' I dare say yer dad would be proud too. A Chaser he was, an' it took until his third year to finally make the team. Yer already runnin', or should I say, flyin' circles 'round him."
"Really? My dad was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"
"I meant to tell you that, Harry, but forgot," Hermione informed him, "several of the Quidditch House cups in the trophy room have his name on them."
"Wow!" Harry exclaimed, feeling more excited and prouder to have made the Gryffindor team.
"Yep, Harry. Yer dad and mum were as smart as they come. Used teh come out an' visit ol' Hagrid here much like you two 'er doin' now. Good days, they were!"
The man seemed to look off into the horizon while swallowing the last of his tea and pouring another steaming cup. The three then chatted on about the professors, their fellow pupils, and the school at large. Then, during a lull in the conversation, Harry pulled the paper out from behind him.
"Hagrid, I saw this in The Daily Prophet a few days ago. Did you know about the break-in on my birthday, the day we visited Gringott's?"
Hagrid's eyes grew large when Harry pointed to the article and the moving picture of goblins underneath. The big man looked away to the fire, cleared his throat, and stood up.
"Er...would yeh both like another cup 'o tea?" he asked as though the boy had said nothing at all.
Harry and Hermione exchanged puzzled looks.
"Hagrid!" Harry complained at the man's lack of response. This caused the giant to stop before he could grab the cauldron off its stand over the fire. He turned and looked down at them.
"Now, you listen teh me, both of yeh," he stated very seriously, "don' yeh go stickin' yer nose in teh somethin' that's none of yer concern."
This didn't end Harry's curiosity.
"But if Dumbledore knew someone was going to try to steal...whatever it was in that vault, and didn't think Gringott's was safe, what does he plan to do with it here? Don't you think whoever it was might try to break into Hogwarts too?"
"Gringott's is one of the most secure establishments in the wizarding world, Hagrid," Hermione added, as though the big man didn't know this fact, "whoever attempted to break into that vault must have used some really powerful magic or was able to simply float down to the vault past the goblin's security measures. That being the case, it's doubtful Hogwarts would be any safer."
Harry looked at Hermione in astonishment, amazed once again at her knowledge of the wizarding world.
But Hagrid wasn't amazed in the slightest and let out a frustrated grunt.
"Look, all I know is that Professor Dumbledore agreed to keep You-Know-What in a secure location, whether that be Gringott's or Hogwarts. He asked me teh retrieve it the day we went teh yer own vault, Harry. It ain't none of my business nor yers what the man does with it after. That's purely between him and Nicolas Flamel."
Harry and Hermione gawked at one another.
"Nicolas Flamel?" Harry asked with heightened interest. The boy knew he'd heard that name before but couldn't place it.
Hagrid's eyes grew large, and he gulped as though caught red-handed in a crime.
"I shouldn've said that!" the great man muttered while shaking his arms. He then faced the kids once more.
"Like I said, it's best you two don' meddle in somethin' yeh know nothin' 'bout. Leave it be, is my advice."
Hagrid seemed flustered as though worried he might reveal more secrets if this continued.
"Now off with yeh both. I need teh go...er...take Fang fer a walk in the...Forbidden Forest. Right."
The giant was clearly fishing for an excuse to end the conversation about the break-in and also end Harry and Hermione's inquisitiveness about it. He took the cups and saucers from their hands and placed them on the small wood table. The two rose from their seats, realizing it best not to question the man further on the subject.
"Well, thanks for the tea, Hagrid. It was nice to see you again," Hermione told him.
Hagrid's expression quickly returned to the friendly version as though their conversation about Gringott's never occurred.
"And you too, Hermione, Harry," he uttered with a smile.
They all stepped outside the hut and Fang barked, bolting after a frog appearing from behind some pumpkins.
"Fang! Get back here, yeh great oaf!" Hagrid chided the dog.
The man stuck his feet inside the huge boots and grabbed the crossbow off the wall.
"Well, you two, don' be strangers now. Feel free teh come on out and visit ol' Hagrid any time yeh like. I enjoy the company as I don' get too many visitors here. Most of the students seem afraid of me an' I can't fer the life of me think why," the giant uttered with a puzzled look while holding up the scary-looking crossbow.
"We will, Hagrid," Harry promised the man, "see you later."
"And I'll see you too, Harry. I plan to show fer yer first match of the year against those Slytherin slugs. That's a promise."
"Okay, great," the boy replied. They waved at the giant and headed back toward the castle.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry turned to Hermione.
"Do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?" he asked, fully expecting the girl to give him a thorough description of the mysterious man. But to his surprise, she shook her head.
"No. I don't recall coming across the name in any of my books. Do you know?"
"The name sounds familiar, but I don't remember where I saw it. Maybe it will come back to me later."
"Perhaps there's a book in the library that mentions him," the girl said while looking down in thought, "it might take some time to research, but if the object Dumbledore is trying to keep safe is so valuable, it's sure to be mentioned somewhere."
"Right. We can do that later. I really don't care to look at the inside of a library on a day like this," Harry said while gazing up at the beautiful blue sky.
"Agreed," Hermione uttered with a smile. And Harry was a bit surprised she did agree. He figured she'd be eager to hit the library and discover who this chap Flamel was as well as the object he and Dumbledore were so keen on protecting. But then again, Harry noticed Hermione seemed a bit different than before yesterday's ordeal. The girl came across more relaxed and less willing to put out her strong opinions. It certainly made her more enjoyable to be with.
Instead of heading directly to the castle, they traced another dirt path along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry couldn't help but gaze into the mysterious woods made even more mysterious by the fact it was forbidden to enter. What creatures lurked in the murky depths beyond those ancient looking oaks and ashes? But after hearing the distant cry of a hoot owl and then the rustling of leaves, as though something was prowling toward them, they fled to the back side of the castle grounds.
Rolling hills dotted with more oaks led to a noble pine forest which smelled pleasantly of evergreen. Near the top of one hill, they approached a very old looking willow tree that seemed out of place in this lush landscape. It was quite gnarled and missing half its leaves. But more mysteriously, the ground beneath it was covered in bird feathers as though the ugly thing was some giant carnivorous plant swallowing up unsuspecting birds landing on its branches. Feeling creeped out at the willow, which looked like it was a hundred years old, Harry and Hermione took the long way around it. But in the process, they both swore the tree seemed to turn as though watching them.
Finding themselves back near the front of Hogwarts castle, they walked down to a small beach by the shore of the Black Lake. They were pleasantly surprised to find Fred and George Weasley there along with Lee Jordan and a couple of Ravenclaw girls who seemed to be admirers of the mischievous twins.
"Hello, Harry!" Fred uttered with a grin.
"Hello, Hermione!" George added while reaching into a sackcloth bag containing who-knew-what.
"Hey, guys," Harry replied.
"Hullo, fellow Gryffindors!" Lee said cheerfully with a wave.
The two first-years waved back. And just then they noticed nearby ripples on the surface of the lake, a pinkish tentacle briefly appearing then disappearing back into the brackish water. Harry and Hermione were astonished. But then Hermione's face scrunched up at the mysterious bag in George's hands.
"What are you two doing, exactly?" the girl inquired.
"Oh, we're feeding the giant squid," George mentioned.
"...Or rather, trying to see what it will eat," Fred threw in.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked puzzled.
"Well, for three years now, we've tried to feed it all kinds of things, but it doesn't seem to like anything we give it. Thought we'd give it another go on this fine day. What else is in there, George?"
"Oh, um...got a four-day-old chicken leg, a couple of Hagrid's rock cakes, and, what else? Oh! Here's a real treat: that can of mouldy sardines we pilfered from Filch's rubbish bin."
The redhead promptly threw this into the water, and everyone waited breathlessly for the squid to respond. After a few seconds, the lake bubbled, and a small explosion of water was followed by the jettisoning of the sardine can over their heads behind them.
"Nope," Fred commented, "that didn't work. Next?"
Harry and Hermione threw each other an amused glance at the twins' antics. They watched this spectacle for several more minutes, with more rejected food articles flying over their heads, before deciding to head back to the castle proper.
Despite Hermione's more relaxed mood, the girl suggested they study for Binns' exam and get some of their transfiguration and potions homework finished too. She just couldn't help herself. Harry amusingly agreed and they did just that after lunch in the Great Hall - a lunch that passed with little incident between them and their fellow pupils. The two received a few stares and whispers, but most seemed even more afraid of Harry after his outrage at the Hufflepuffs and tried to ignore them. And this was just fine.
~HP~
"Now, flick your wand left, then right, then back left again, and say Centrificus Momentum!" Professor Flitwick uttered to his class while demonstrating the motion.
Harry concentrated on the silver goblet in front of him, then mimicked the little man's motions with his wand.
"Centrificus Momentum!" the boy spoke and watched in amazement as the goblet began rotating in place on the table. Harry smiled. He then looked at Hermione who had already gotten her own little goblet to spin as well as her charms textbook and the small cauldron of quills on their desk - all at the same time. Harry shook his head and chuckled. She beamed back at him. Brightest indeed, he thought, remembering Hagrid's comment.
"Filius? May I borrow Mr. Potter for a few minutes?" a voice called out from the back of the room. Every head turned to find Professor McGonagall at the door to the classroom, looking very regal in her green robes, her hands clasped in front of her.
"Oh, yes, of course, Minerva!" Flitwick replied while smiling at Harry.
Every eye fell on him now as McGonagall threw him that stern gaze of hers. This caused Harry to swallow hard, wondering if he had done something wrong. He threw a concerned glance at Hermione who returned the same. He then left the table toward the professor.
But as he approached the woman, Harry was relieved when she smiled at him.
"Follow me, Harry," she instructed and walked out of Flitwick's class with the kid in tow.
They marched down the corridor and McGonagall stopped at an empty classroom.
"In here," she told him.
Harry walked in to find Oliver Wood standing by a table at the front of the room. He was holding something behind his back. The boy wondered what all this could be about.
"Hello, Harry," the fifth-year spoke as the kid approached the table.
"Hi, Oliver."
McGonagall moved next to both of them.
"I'm sure you're wondering why we brought you in here, young man," she said, "well, the fact is, we have something for you."
At this, Wood produced a brown, paper-wrapped package from behind him and laid it on the table. It was long, thin, and bulky at one end. Harry was puzzled at what it could be until it hit him: a broomstick!
He threw a wide-eye glance at Wood and the professor, both amused at his reaction.
"Go ahead, open it," his team captain told him.
Harry pulled the wrapping off and stared in wonder at the sleek, elegant broom before him. His heart raced at the sight - he couldn't believe how beautiful the thing was!
Its handle wasn't round like the old school brooms. Rather it was bladed and its tip had an aerodynamic, downward curve, the end a bit wider than the main handle. The straw twines at the back were straight as arrows and the combined twines looked more like the end of a muggle rocket than a broom's sweep. But what Harry saw emblazoned on the front of the stick was the most astonishing yet.
In elegant, gold-flake lettering the words stood out to the boy like a flashing sign:
Nimbus 2000
Behind this, the colorful crest of Gryffindor with its golden mascot, the lion of courage, was inlaid, and behind this, one more bit of lettering caused Harry to gulp:
H. Potter
Harry couldn't believe it.
"WOW!" he exclaimed in amazement, "this is...mine?"
Wood and McGonagall both chuckled at him.
"Yes, Harry. It's all yours," Oliver added, beaming at the boy.
"Of course, it is, Harry!" the professor answered with a smile, "I can't have my new Seeker flying around on Madam Hooch's old scraps, now can I?"
Harry gently lifted the broom from the table. It felt really solid to the touch and yet light as a feather. He gazed up and down its surface in awe. Wood then spoke.
"Now that you have a proper broom for Quidditch, we'll get you out for another try at the Snitch at Wednesday's practice. The whole team is eager to see you fly it as you yourself no doubt are."
"Definitely," Harry responded, unable to tear his eyes away from the incredible object.
"Now, Harry," McGonagall spoke, "try to keep this a secret between us - for the time being. I've spoken to Professor Dumbledore and we have allowed you an exception to the rule that first-years cannot possess their own broomstick. Please respect this by not mentioning it to the other students. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied with a nod at her. But she wasn't finished.
"Also, by extending this privilege to you, we expect you to work hard at both your Quidditch training and your academics. I don't want to have to suspend you from Gryffindor's team because of failing grades or poor class performance. Is that clear?"
Harry fully turned to her at this, realizing the seriousness of her words.
"Yes professor. Very clear," he answered with another nod.
"Here, Harry, use this to cover it up," Wood said while handing him a soft maroon case made of velvety material. The boy complied and placed the broom inside.
"Excellent!" Oliver threw in, "I'll see you on Wednesday, then."
"See you later, Oliver. Thank you! Thank you both!" he uttered.
"You're welcome, Harry," McGonagall replied with a smile of pride, "now, go put that in your dorm room and return to Flitwick's class."
"Yes ma'am."
~HP~
"T-there re-really isn't a such th-th-thing as dark m-magic, per se, j-j-just dark wiz-wizards and, um...oh!...w-witches..."
Harry felt like his eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. He was bored stiff listening to Quirrell rattle on as though the man was constantly being zapped with electricity. The other students were just as bored and frustrated with the Defence Against the Dark Arts lecture this day and it didn't help that the darkened room was hot and stuffy.
Hermione was in her own world, writing something prolifically on her parchment. Neville constantly started, stopped, then restarted his notes trying to make sense of what the man was saying. Seamus was snoring lightly with his head laid in his arms on his desk. Ron Weasley, his pal Sean, and a couple of their friends looked as though Quirrell was physically torturing them. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were completely ignoring the lecture while quietly drawing moving cartoons on their parchments. But Harry couldn't get the image of his Nimbus 2000 out of his mind and was daydreaming about flying it.
While Wood suggested Harry would be using it the first time at Wednesday's practice, neither he nor McGonagall explicitly forbid him from flying it beforehand and the boy was already concocting a plan to sneak out to the Quidditch pitch after class and give it a test-flight. These thoughts were flying around Harry's brain until Quirrell turned to the blackboard to write out a lengthy list of wizards and witches falsely accused, according to him, of practicing the dark arts. As soon as the man did, Harry was immediately struck by a sharp pain in his scar.
"Ow!" he muttered as quietly as possible, reaching up to rub the lightning-shaped mark on his forehead.
Hermione stopped writing.
"What's wrong?" she asked in a whisper while leaning toward him.
"I'll tell you after class," he replied just as quietly while maintaining his gaze on the professor.
Twenty frustrating minutes later, the pair was gratefully leaving the classroom that reeked heavily of garlic and a strange smell of incense.
"What happened in there, Harry?" Hermione asked as soon as they hit the corridor.
"My scar was burning again," he answered, reaching up to rub it.
"Again? It's happened before?"
"Yes. The first time was during the start-of-term banquet. I looked up at the high table and saw Professor Snape staring at me. The scar burned at that precise moment. I thought maybe he was causing it. But ever since then, anytime he's looked at me nothing has happened. But I've felt it burning in this class several times now."
"When Quirrell looks at you?"
"No. That's the strange part. It doesn't burn when he looks at me, it burns when he turns his back to me. I don't understand it."
Hermione went into thinking mode and her brow furrowed.
"Has it ever happened before you came to Hogwarts?" she inquired.
"A couple of times. I remember having a nightmare once, after I accidentally set a snake loose at the zoo."
"You set a snake loose at the zoo?" she asked with incredulity.
"Yeah, through magic, I'm guessing. But that night I dreamed the snake came back and crawled onto my bed, speaking to me. When I woke, the scar was burning."
"And has it only burned here when Professor Quirrell turns his back to you?"
"Well, I did have another nightmare last week and Professor Quirrell was in it. I woke from that with the scar hurting as well."
Hermione pondered this.
"It seems obvious the scar pain is somehow connected to the professor, Harry. In other words, it isn't just random pain - I suspect he's causing it somehow."
Harry's face scrunched up in confusion.
"But why? I've only actually talked to the man a few times - if you can call it talking. He doesn't seem to have any animosity toward me like Snape does."
"I don't know," she uttered before something struck her thoughts and her face lit up. She stopped in the hall to face him and he stopped after.
"Harry, do you remember what Professor Quirrell was doing when Snape looked at you during the banquet?"
The boy thought for a moment.
"He was...discussing something with Snape and..." Harry stated before finishing with a wide-eyed look at Hermione, "...had his back turned to me!"
The two first-years gazed at each other in astonishment.
"I think you're right, Hermione!"
"Then we should investigate this further," she told him, "when we have free time, I'll look through any of my books and maybe check out some from the library to see if anything like this has happened before. I think this is important - we need to know how the man is causing the pain in your forehead, and…why."
"Agreed," Harry replied with a nod, though feeling strange about the affair.
But the image of his broomstick suddenly intruded into his thoughts and the boy was overcome by the urge to fly it. This gave him an idea. He pushed thoughts of Quirrell and his scar pain to the back of his brain.
"Hermione, there's something I want to show you..."
~HP~
The Quidditch pitch was empty and silent under the late afternoon sun as the pair stepped into the open green and paused.
"Harry, what are we doing here?" Hermione asked with a cautious look.
The boy smiled at her and opened up the velvet case in his hands, revealing his sparkling Nimbus 2000. Hermione's eyes went wide at the sight.
"Wow! Did you just get that?"
"I did. Professor McGonagall had it ordered for me. I've been dying to try it out since this morning."
"So that's why she called you out of Flitwick's class. I thought you had that old broom in the case. This is incredible!"
"Definitely. Want to see me test it?"
"Well, you didn't bring me out here for nothing," she answered with a smirk, "I'll stand by with my wand in case something goes wrong."
He chuckled at her and proceeded toward the center of the pitch. Harry then held the broom out and let go. It fell a few inches before stopping and hovering above the ground at waist-level. The wooden object then gently moved up and down of its own accord, as though waiting for someone to mount it.
His heart racing, the boy reached out and grabbed the handle with his left hand. He then straddled the broom and grabbed hold with his right. Harry's eyes shot open at the instant connection. The old broomstick from Hooch's class had a similar reaction when he mounted it - but this was very different. Not only did the broom seem to think and wait eagerly for Harry's command, it seemed to be able to read his thoughts before he thought them. Not only this, but the broomstick hummed. The 2000 was a completely different creature from the old school-issued variety. Ready to test this idea, he glanced over at Hermione.
"Be careful, Harry!" she told him with a worried look on her face.
He smiled at her, then looked ahead. Leaning close to the broom, the 2000 fired off across the pitch like a lightning bolt before Harry had even finished the thought. He was blown away! There was no jerk forward like the school broom the previous Wednesday. Instead, the kid felt as though some invisible force pulled him to the broom's speed with ease. He was simply astonished. Wood was right.
Plowing forward at terrific speed, Harry had the broom follow the oval outline of the pitch, which it did quite gracefully. He then looked up and the broom followed his gaze and shot upward into the sky but again without the clunky, uncontrollable movement of the class stick. This broom lowered its back end gently while curving in the direction of Harry's gaze as opposed to instantly reorienting itself. This made the boy feel both secure and in control. Making several more turns to test the Nimbus' banking ability, Harry discovered that the bladed shape of the handle allowed him to lean his body diagonally with the turn to prevent momentum from throwing him off. This was fantastic!
Harry grinned ear to ear while flying straight up and then dropping straight back down with the 2000 buffeting itself against the weight of his body to compensate for unwanted inertia. He then looked at Hermione whose eyes were wide in amazement. The boy had a mischievous grin on his face as he turned the broom 180 degrees without a hitch and took off across the pitch floor at breathtaking speed. He flew right past the girl who gasped as both her fluffy hair and robe flew to one side like she had been hit by a hurricane force wind. Harry laughed uncontrollably as he slowed, spun around and headed back toward the girl. He then slowed to a stop in front of her. Hermione's face exuded an amusing mix of fright, annoyance, and relief.
"Wow, Hermione! That was amazing!" he told her through heavy breaths.
"If you say so," she uttered with a suspicious face. And this gave Harry another idea.
"Want to try it?" he dared ask. The brunette shook her head in fright.
"No!" she complained as though the boy was a nutter. Harry nodded.
"Okay. Want to take a ride?"
"Not really, Harry."
"Come on! It's fun! I promise I won't do anything crazy."
Her eyes darted back and forth in concern and Harry fully expected her to turn him down again. But he was surprised when she hesitantly stepped forward. He scrunched forward on the handle and Hermione straddled the broomstick behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest.
"Alright?" he asked, turning his head back.
"Yes," she spoke timidly.
"Okay. Hang on!"
The broom started forward and the boy immediately felt Hermione's arms tighten around him in a death grip. Harry chuckled.
"Hermione! I need to breathe!" he uttered back at her as the wind picked up around them.
She released her grip a little, though not much. The kid flew around the oval pitch a few times, did a figure-eight, and then climbed into the atmosphere. At this, he felt Hermione re-tighten her grip in fear and press herself as close to him as possible, burying her face into the back of his robe. He chuckled again.
After planing out, the boy then swooped back down toward the pitch floor and Hermione screamed in his ear with fright. Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud. He then slowed his speed and came to a rest once more. Hermione let go of him and shot off the broom as fast as possible. Harry looked at the pale face of the girl whose fluffy hair was in frazzles all around her.
"Wasn't that fun?" he asked in amusement.
"No!" she replied as though the look on her face made that obvious. But the girl couldn't help smirking a little too.
Harry got off the broom, very happy with his test flight, and stuck it back into its case. He then grinned at Hermione in a tease, and she threw the boy an annoyed look in return.
"I think I'll leave the flying to you, Harry," she informed him. He chuckled.
"Well, I'm impressed you gave it a go, anyway. There's definitely some Gryffindor courage behind all that smartness."
The girl shook her head and the two headed out of the pitch.
~HP~
The following day, Harry went out to fly again, but by himself, having to wait for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team to finish their practice first. The boy flew around for at least an hour, trying variations on turns and free falls to see what the broom could really do. Harry remained impressed with the Nimbus and couldn't wait until Wednesday's practice.
By the time he returned to the castle, it was too late to get dinner in the Great Hall. The boy just barely made it to the Fat Lady's portrait before final curfew.
"Pig Snout!" he uttered, remembering the new password Percy gave them earlier that day.
The woman in the painting frowned at the boy.
"I have no such thing!" she uttered with annoyance and promptly stormed off, the portrait swinging open for Harry, nevertheless. He went up to his dorm room for bed...hungry.
After getting into his pajamas, Harry laid down in his four-poster to sleep, his stomach rumbling as he looked forward to flapjacks for breakfast the following morning. Then suddenly, he remembered something.
Harry scrambled out of bed and opened his trunk next to it. He had completely forgotten about the goodies he stashed in it during the train ride over a week and a half ago. Hoping to find something unspoiled he could munch on, the kid pulled back several layers of clothes to find the mess of candies and their wrappers tucked at the bottom. Rummaging through them, some of them definitely reeked - he would need to clean his trunk out tomorrow. But in the process, he came across the chocolate frog box. Curious, Harry took it to his bed and popped open the top, expecting the little creature to leap out.
Nothing.
Puzzled, Harry turned the box upside down and instead of a chocolate frog, a chocolate blob fell onto his bedsheets. The thing had melted and a contorted remnant of one leg still twitched a little. But at the same time, the card inside also fell onto his bed. Harry looked down to see Professor Dumbledore smiling back at him with a wink - the wizard had reappeared in the picture. Amused, Harry picked up the card, flipped it over, and instantly froze. The boy's eyes went wide as the words "Nicolas Flamel" jumped out at him from the short blurb about Dumbledore.
This time Harry read the entire blurb, though the part about Flamel was rather brief:
"...and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel*..."
Harry noticed the asterisk next to Flamel's name and looked at the bottom of the card. There, in tiny lettering, the asterisk contained a reference:
* Oddlum's Oddities of the Wizarding World, 3rd Edition, 1985
When Harry saw this, his heart leapt.
Hermione mentioned that very book when they took the boat to Hogwarts their first day!
Without delay, Harry spun around and bolted toward the stairs to the common room, Chocolate Frog card in hand. He nearly leapt from the common room floor onto the stairs leading to the girl's dormitories and halted just before the wooden door to the first-years' residence.
The boy knocked vigorously for a few seconds and waited. The door finally opened, and a very groggy and disgruntled looking Padma Patil gawked at Harry in astonishment.
"Harry! What in blazes are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?" she shot at him angrily.
His cheeks turned pink.
"Oh, hi, Padma. Sorry...um...is Hermione awake?" he asked meekly.
"Hermione?" the Patil twin asked in confusion.
But the fluffy-haired girl must have heard this disturbance because she suddenly appeared out of the darkness. Padma then disappeared back into the room with a grunt.
"Harry! What are you doing up?" she asked quietly, as put out as her dorm mate.
Harry was briefly amused at seeing the girl in pink pajamas with furry, bunny rabbit slippers. But his mind quickly shifted to the business at hand.
"Look what I found!" he uttered quietly but urgently.
The girl took the card and screwed up her eyes gazing at the figure moving around. She was confused.
"It's just a picture of Dumbledore."
"No, look at the back of the card!"
She did this and quickly perused the blurb. When her eyes fell on the names Flamel and Oddlum, she shot an astonished glance at Harry. He smiled, thrilled they might have discovered the identity of the mysterious package from Vault 713.
"I have the book in my trunk," the girl told him quietly, "I'll bring it down in the morning."
"Okay," Harry answered with a nod and a grin.
"Now go to bed!" she threw at the boy with gritted teeth and a severe look, promptly closing the residence door in his face. Harry chuckled and headed back to his room.
The following morning, Harry was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace in Gryffindor's common room. He had actually arisen sooner than Hermione and was waiting anxiously for her to come down. He heard footsteps. Turning to look behind the chair, he smiled at the sight of his fluffy-haired friend appearing with her satchel over one shoulder and a rather bulky book in her arms. Harry got up and smiled at her.
"I can't believe you woke me up for this!" she scolded him, but quickly smirked in amusement.
"Did you find the reference to Flamel?" he asked on pins and needles.
"Yes," she answered while laying the book on the round table and opening it, "here it is."
She pointed to an article in the Oddities book labeled Legends of the Rich and Aged.
Harry started reading out loud.
"...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 makes the drinker immortal...the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel..."
The boy looked at Hermione wide-eyed and she returned the gaze. Harry then swallowed hard.
"Hermione? I think we've found what all the fuss is about..."