Harry spent the next week in a bit of a funk. His anger at the death of the Unicorn coupled with his increasing uneasiness that something was wrong at the school kept him from feeling at ease. His friends noticed and did their best to help or just stay out of his way.
The only people who knew exactly what he was feeling were Ron, Hermione, and Neville. They did what they could to keep his mind off what happened but he couldn't help but feel like he should be doing something.
Throughout the week Harry and the others would visit Hagrid to try to keep his spirits up. It was taking some effort but Hagrid was getting back to his old, cheerful self with each visit. They would listen to him gush about one creature or another and how to take care of them. It actually was pretty informative but after the first few creatures, only Hermione was asking questions.
"What is the most difficult magical creature you've had to care for?" she asked, the boys were still paying attention but only barely.
Hagrid thought for a moment before speaking again.
"While the giant squid is certainly big it's hard to do more than make sure it's got all the food it needs so in the end it's not that bad. The hardest one to take care of right now is Fluffy. Having to climb three staircases with huge amounts of meat is tiring."
Harry stood, his attention fully directed at Hagrid.
"Is Fluffy the three-headed dog on the third floor?"
Hagrid stiffened and looked around nervously.
"Eh… hmm? I'm sorry kids I've got some work to do so thanks for stopping by-"
Harry stepped up to him, his demeanor had changed from relaxed to intense in only a second. Hermione sat forward as well, her curiosity threatening to overwhelm her usual calm and collected manor. Ron was curious as well but not nearly as much as the other two. Neville didn't know what they were talking about but could feel the tension in the room.
"Hagrid, is Fluffy the dog on the third floor?"
Hagrid was clearly uncomfortable and struggled to answer before giving in.
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore asked if he could use him."
Harry began pacing, his thoughts flying.
"What is he guarding?"
Hagrid's eyebrows knitted together in a frown before answering.
"That's between the headmaster and Nicolas Flamel."
When Hermione perked up at the name, Hagrid winced.
"I should not have said that… You kids best be off now before I get myself into too much trouble."
They protested but Hagrid kept his mouth shut until bidding them farewell.
As they walked to the castle Harry turned to Hermione, his curiosity burning.
"Who is Nicolas Flamel and what does he have to do with Dumbledore?"
"Professor Dumbledore, Harry," Hermione said before glaring at Ron for rolling his eyes. "Nicolas Flamel is a famous alchemist. He's the only wizard known to successfully create the Philosopher's Stone. Dumbledore is also an alchemist and I'm sure they've worked together before."
"What is the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Well… it's an incredibly powerful magical item. Its properties are almost entirely unknown but we know for sure it can turn any material into gold and can also produce the elixir of life."
Harry stopped in the middle of the trail, causing Neville to almost run into him.
"The elixir of life? Is that the same thing as the unicorn blood?"
Hermione gasped, suddenly making the same connection.
"No! It's not the same! It doesn't have any of the negative side effects the unicorn blood has. But I'm also not sure if it has any other side effects. Not much is known about the stone seeing as Flamel only made one and that was over five hundred years ago."
Harry continued walking toward the castle, his mind racing. He started to piece a few things together.
"When I first learned about the magical world, Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley and Gringotts. He had to 'pick something up' for Professor Dumbledore. I bet it was the stone because the next day Amelia Bones asked me some questions about the bank being robbed."
"I remember that," said Neville. "My Gran threatened to withdraw all our money and put it into a different bank. The only reason she didn't was because nothing was actually stolen."
"Right," Harry said. "Now, Hagrid has the three headed dog guarding a trap door and I would put money on the stone being on the other side."
Hermione's face was scrunched in concentration, mumbling something to herself. "I doubt the cerberus is the only thing guarding it. It wouldn't surprise me if there were other security measures."
They continued to speculate the rest of the walk to the castle. The news of an extremely powerful magical artifact being hidden in the castle shouldn't have come as a huge surprise knowing how old the school was, but they couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.
It wasn't until they entered the castle and saw Snape striding across the entry hall did Harry have another epiphany.
"I think I know what Quirrell and Snape were talking about that night."
Hermione's eyes widened as the information finally came together.
"I think Snape is trying to prevent Quirrell from getting the stone. But Quirrell is almost always scared to death of everything, I don't see how he could keep from passing out at the sight of Fluffy."
Harry shushed the group as Snape passed by. His expression was one of suspicion but Harry had decided suspicious was Snape's default expression.
When they made it back to the common room, the discussion continued, eventually being joined by the Weasley twins. Over the next few hours, the group's guesses became more outlandish. Eventually, Ron was convinced there was a Chimera and two Sphinx guarding a vault door made of Goblin steel.
For the next week, the Philosopher's Stone was a hot topic of discussion, mostly centered around what each person would do if they had unlimited money and immortality. Some were mundane like buying clothes or material items. Others were a bit more extreme.
Ron was often caught daydreaming about owning the Chudley Cannons. Hermione talked about funding a new public library for the magical world, but also mentioned it would be nice to help her parents out. When Neville was asked what he'd like, he talked about upgrading the greenhouses at his family manor. Of course the twins couldn't help but think of all the things they could invent for a joke shop if money wasn't a problem.
Harry would often say he'd like to own part of a broom company or maybe a quidditch team. Once, however, when the group was enjoying an early spring day by the lake, Hermione got him to open up a bit more. They weren't expecting how heavy his response would be.
"Come on, Harry," she said insistently. "I know you've got bigger ideas than quidditch and flying in that head of yours."
Harry gave her a shy smile.
"Well, I think it would be nice to help out the guys at St. Brutus. Maybe there's some other groups that could use some help as well."
"What's St. Brutus?" Ron asked as he tossed a quaffle back and forth with Blaise.
Harry hesitated. He had hinted at his upbringing a little bit but he hadn't given his friends any real details. Hermione could sense his tension and laid a hand on his shoulder, concerned she may have upset her friend.
"You don't have to say if you don't want to, Harry."
He didn't move for a moment, his eyes on the distant shore of the lake. He looked back at his friends and saw the concern in their eyes as well.
He nodded and steeled himself for their reactions, uncertain of what they might be.
"You guys know I didn't really have the best upbringing but you don't know any of the details."
The others shared a glance before nodding for him to continue. Harry took a deep breath.
"When my parents were killed, I was put into the care of my Aunt and Uncle on my mother's side. They were…. Not very kind to me." He looked back out over the lake, not wanting to watch his friends' reactions.
"I lived in a cupboard under the stairs for the first ten years I lived with them. They made me cook and clean for them, sometimes withholding food or water from me if I wasn't up to snuff. Every now and then my Uncle would get angry and lock me in my cupboard for weeks, only letting me out to use the bathroom. While he never beat me, the lack of food, water, and sometimes sleep were obviously not healthy.
"When I was eleven he threw me into his car and said he was finally going to get rid of me and my freakishness." Harry spat out the last word, his disdain for the Dursley's clear for everyone paying attention. "We drove for hours until we finally came upon a facility out in the middle of nowhere. When I saw the sign on the gate it read St. Brutus Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.
"I lived there for the next six years. I was quite a bit younger than the other boys and they weren't kind to me. I'm sure you can imagine the kind of kids that were there and what they must have been like. Eventually I was able to make a few friends as I grew older. It helped that I was pretty good at football but when I was finally old enough to play, the warden wouldn't let me due to me not actually being on the books as a resident.
"Over time, the other boys began to come to me for help or advice. Even at fourteen I was the longest tenured kid at the center and as such knew the way the system worked. While there were some guys there that were genuinely dangerous, the majority of the residents were just unlucky. Most were in the wrong place at the wrong time or just really desperate. I learned a lot from that time about how the world really works. But in the end, I think those kids deserve more than just being locked up."
He looked back to the group and was surprised by what he saw. Hermione was close to tears and looked like she might tackle him. Harry held out an arm to her and she all but crushed him in a comforting hug. Ron was as red as Harry had ever seen him. The quaffle lay beside him while he clenched his fists in anger, looking for all the world like he might explode.
Surprisingly, Blaise had the same look. Harry was a bit taken aback at the clear anger on the boy's face. Something Harry said had struck something within Blaise and he was having trouble containing his emotions.
When Harry looked at Neville, he wasn't surprised to see the sadness in his eyes. But he also saw a resilience of some sort. Neville nodded at him and spoke.
"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about going through any of that any more. I'll convince my Gran to let you stay with us before I let you go back to that."
"Same here," Ron said, his anger still evident. "I don't think my Mum would mind but even if she did I'm sure we could work something out."
"While my home may not be as… warm, as the Weasley or Longbottom families, I'm sure my mother would not have a problem with you staying with me," Blaise said before he gave a light chuckle. "I'm not even sure my mother would notice you were there."
Harry held back tears as he nodded back to the other boys. He didn't trust his voice to speak yet.
Hermione just held him tight. She didn't say anything but he could hear her sniffling into his shirt. Eventually she loosened her grip and looked at him.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she said, her eyes puffy and red.
Harry gave her a weak smile. "It's not your fault, Hermione. I can't change what happened but I'm going to do whatever it takes to help everyone who is going through what I did. No one should have to go through that, let alone children."
Hermione almost sobbed again before wrapping him in another hug, burying her head in his chest.
The group sat in silence for a while, eventually calming enough to head back into the castle. Hermione kept apologizing for messing up Harry's shirt even after she'd cleaned him up with a quick spell.
When they got to the common room, Harry told everyone he was going to take a nap and headed up to his room. The others hung around for a while but no one said anything. Each one was lost in thought about The Boy Who Lived and how after all he went through, he still turned out to be a good person. Each vowed to support him in their own ways, if only so his life was a little bit better moving forward.