Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
Chapter 10 – Finding Flamel
The restart of term found Lucy and her friends once again skimming through books in the library between classes for information on Nicolas Flamel. It seemed like a hopeless search, because they still hadn't found him in any of the books they had looked through.
Term also brought back homework, and the teachers were not holding back. It was as though they had realized that the final exams were now only five months away, and they were determined to cram as much knowledge into the students' brains as they could.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team resumed training a week into the new term. Harry often reported to his friends that Oliver seemed more motivated than ever. The rest of the team seemed less enthusiastic since Oliver was trying to make them practice every night.
~LJ:TH~
One evening, Lucy was sitting in the common room watching Hermione and Ron play chess. Harry was not with them, because he was at Quidditch. Lucy laughed as Hermione let out a frustrated growl; chess was one of the only things that Ron could beat her at.
It was getting late when Harry finally showed up. Lucy smiled and said hello, and Harry returned the greeting before sinking into an armchair exhaustedly.
"Don't talk to me for a moment," Ron said, glancing up from the chess board. "I need to concen—What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
Harry sighed. "Snape's going to be refereeing our Quidditch match against Hufflepuff," he said quietly.
The other three were stunned into silence for a moment.
"Don't play," Hermione spoke up.
"Say you're ill," Ron suggested.
"Pretend to break your leg," Lucy said.
"Really break your leg," Ron insisted.
"Helpful, Ron," Lucy said, shaking her head.
"I can't," Harry said. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
Lucy sat back in her seat with a frown. After thinking for a few moments, she asked, "Couldn't you tell someone that you'd be uncomfortable with Snape refereeing? Maybe Dumbledore or McGonagall could do something."
"I don't think that's going to work," Harry replied. "I don't exactly have a good excuse.…"
Then there was a commotion, and they all turned to see Neville falling into the common room through the portrait hole. His legs seemed to be stuck together.
"Looks like Neville got hit with a Leg-Locker Curse," Lucy murmured in concern as most of the Gryffindors erupted into laughter.
Hermione jumped up and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs immediately came unstuck, and he pushed himself to his feet somewhat unsteadily.
"What happened?" Hermione asked. She took his arm and led him over to Lucy, Harry, and Ron, and Lucy scooted over on the couch to allow room for Neville to sit down.
"Malfoy," he explained, sounding shaken up and taking the open seat. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
Lucy shook her head, anger building in her chest; she really couldn't stand Malfoy.
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione exclaimed. "Report him!"
Neville shook his head fearfully. "I don't want more trouble," he said in a small voice.
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron said. "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 replied, his voice breaking.
"What do you mean, you're not brave enough to be in Gryffindor?" Lucy gasped. "Of course you're brave; you just need to find it inside yourself first."
While she was speaking, Harry had dug around in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. He handed it to Neville. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry finished. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."
Lucy frowned at Harry's choice of words.
Neville, however, gave him a small smile and unwrapped the frog. "Thanks, Harry.… I think I'll go to bed," he said, standing up. "D'you want the card? You collect them, don't you?"
Harry took the card from Neville's outstretched hand, and Neville walked away. Harry looked at the card. "Dumbledore again," he sighed. "He was the first one I ever…" He gasped as he trailed off, staring at the back of the card.
Then he looked slowly up at his friends. "I've found him!" he whispered hoarsely. "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 got to her feet, looking determined, and commanded, "Stay there!" She ran to the girls' staircase and disappeared.
Ron and Harry exchanged looks, and Lucy took the card from Harry to read it herself. There it was: the clue that they had been looking for.
Hermione wasn't gone long; soon she was dashing back to them, holding a huge book in her arms. "I never thought to look in here!" she explained, sounding excited. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?" Ron repeated in disbelief.
Lucy and Hermione shushed him as Hermione began flipping through pages to find whatever it was she was looking for.
"I knew it! I knew it!" she screeched, pointing to the page that she was on.
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" Ron asked in annoyance.
Lucy flicked him lightly in the head, and Hermione ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!" she exclaimed.
The others looked at her blankly. "The what?" they asked at the same time.
Hermione scoffed, annoyed. "Oh, honestly, don't you three read? Look—that section, there." She pushed the book at them, pointing at a passage for them.
They put their heads together and read it.
"The Elixir of Life?" Lucy breathed when they were finished. She, Harry, and Ron looked back up at Hermione.
"See?" Hermione said. "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! He must have known someone was after it. That's why he wanted to the stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Harry declared. "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," Ron said. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"
Lucy giggled.
So now they knew who Flamel was and had an idea of what Fluffy was guarding. As nice as it was to have finally figured the mystery out, Lucy had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. It couldn't be just anyone who was after the stone, otherwise surely Flamel would have left it in Gringotts. So, who—apart from possibly Snape—was after it that was making him scared enough to have Dumbledore protect it for him?
~LJ:TH~
The Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match was growing near, and Harry kept insisting that he was going to play. Lucy became more worried as the days passed. She wasn't the only one; whenever Harry was not around, she, Hermione, and Ron would discuss it.
"We need to be prepared in case Snape tries to do something during the match," Ron said for what felt like the hundredth time.
It was a few days before the match, and Lucy was sitting with Hermione and Ron in the common room. Harry was, once again, at practice.
"We could learn the Leg-Locker Curse," Hermione replied. "Remember what Malfoy did to Neville?"
Lucy was doubtful. "Why would Snape try to do anything to Harry in front of all those people?" she asked. "It would be too risky to try and make it look like an accident, wouldn't it?"
"Can't hurt to be ready," Ron said. "Plus, Snape's a git. I wouldn't put it past him to do something. Come on, then, Hermione. What's the spell?"
~LJ:TH~
So, for the next few days, they hid away in the boys' dormitory while Harry was at Quidditch and practiced the spell. They even pulled Ron's mattress off his bed, so they had something soft to fall onto.
Lucy was particularly sore the day before the match in Potions class. She, Ron, and Hermione had been doing some last-minute practicing late the night before. More than once, Lucy had fallen over and missed the mattress. One time her knee had painfully collided with Ron's bed post, and she could still feel it every time she took a step.
Just before class finished, Lucy knocked over a jar of beetle eyes. Cursing, she waved Harry, Hermione, and Ron away when they came over to wait for her to clean up. "Go on without me. I'll meet up with you in a few minutes," she grumbled.
The three of them left, although Hermione hovered for a moment at the door. Lucy nodded, and Hermione turned and hurried after the boys. Sighing, Lucy dropped to the floor of the dungeon and began to scoop up the beetle eyes.
"Hey, Lucy," a voice said. Lucy looked up from under the table to see Jeremy smiling down at her. "Do you need any help?" he asked.
"No, that's okay," Lucy replied. "Thanks, though."
"Okay," Jeremy said.
About a minute later, Lucy straightened up with a handful of beetle eyes and was surprised to see Jeremy still standing beside her. "You don't have to wait, you know," she said. "You can go to lunch."
Jeremy shrugged, but before he could say anything, Snape swept over.
"What's going on here, Whitlock? Jones?" he asked coldly.
"I accidently spilled these beetle eyes, sir," Lucy replied, holding up her hand to show him. "I've almost got them all."
"I was just waiting for her, Professor," Jeremy added.
Snape eyed the two of them for a moment. "Well, move along, Jones," he said stiffly. "You're not the only ones who want to go up to lunch." He moved away from them, stopping at the front of the room to clear a few things off his table.
Lucy quickly swept the rest of the beetle eyes into the jar, threw her books in her bag, and grabbed Jeremy's arm. "Come on, before he takes points," she hissed, dragging Jeremy with her. "All finished, Professor!" she called out in a cheerful voice as she breezed from the room.
As soon as they were down the corridor from the Potions classroom, Jeremy burst out laughing. "I know Snape's not a very nice person," he said between chuckles, "but it's not like he's going to eat you. Slow down, Lucy!"
Lucy did as he asked, smirking at him. "Well, you happen to be in his house," she replied. "I'm in Gryffindor. I'm sure he's itching to take points away from any Gryffindor that he sees."
Jeremy shook his head, still smiling. "He's unpleasant, yes," he said. "I'm sure he just had a troubled past or something."
Lucy shrugged. "So, I know this doesn't happen, like, ever," she started, changing the subject, "but would you like to sit with me and my friends at lunch?"
Jeremy froze in his path, and Lucy stopped with him, looking confused. "You mean, sit with you at the Gryffindor table?" he asked, sounding doubtful.
"Yeah," Lucy replied. "People sit at other tables all the time. It's not that weird."
"I know," Jeremy said. "I mean… I'd like to. Really, I would. I just don't want to cause any trouble."
"Oh, who cares what other people say?" Lucy asked impatiently. "I've told you before, you are my friend. Everyone else is just going to have to accept that. And what better way to make them deal with it than to have you around?"
Jeremy let out a laugh. "I suppose I could, then," he answered. "If things don't go well, though, I'm going to bail early."
"I'd expect nothing less," Lucy shot back, grinning. "I'm not sure who's all going to be there, but just stay by me. They'll get used to it."
Jeremy nodded and followed Lucy into the Great Hall. She led him to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sitting with Neville, Dean, and Seamus; Fred and George; and some of the Weasley twins' friends.
"Budge up, Ron," Lucy said to announce her arrival.
All talk around them ceased as the Gryffindors looked at Lucy and Jeremy. Jeremy smiled nervously.
"Hi, Jeremy," Hermione said, breaking some of the tension.
"Hi, Hermione," Jeremy replied, relieved.
Everyone else continued to stare, and Lucy heaved a sigh. "Everyone, this is Jeremy Whitlock," she introduced him. "He's in Slytherin, and he's my friend. Jeremy, this is Fred and George Weasley. They're Ron's older brothers," she continued, pointing out the twins. Then she gestured to the other first-years and continued, "You might already know Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan. They're all in our year."
"Nice to meet you, Jeremy," Neville said, sounding nervous.
Dean and Seamus waved, as did Fred and George. Ron finally moved over, giving Lucy and Jeremy room to sit down. They immediately helped themselves to lunch while the conversation slowly resumed.
"So, Jeremy," Fred said, "are you going to the match tomorrow?"
"Of course," Jeremy replied immediately, perking up. "I would never miss a Quidditch match."
"You do realize that if we win, we'll be ahead of Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup?" George asked.
"Yeah, I guess that's a downside," Jeremy said, "but Quidditch is way too interesting to get all caught up in who wins. For me, anyway. Quality of the match comes first, and teams are second. Besides, I don't think Slytherin has much of a chance right now; you guys should be able to wipe the field with Hufflepuff."
Both Ron's and George's jaws dropped. Fred looked happily amused, and Hermione and Harry laughed.
"Are you going to the match by yourself, then?" Hermione asked Jeremy.
"Yeah, I suppose so," he replied with a sideways glance at Lucy.
Lucy cocked her head at him, but he didn't say anything.
"Then you should sit with us," Hermione offered. "You don't have to cheer for Gryffindor or anything, but it would probably be better than sitting by yourself."
Jeremy was silent for a moment but also nodded thoughtfully. "That would be really nice, actually," he said. "Thank you, Hermione. That is, if it's okay with you two?" He turned to look at Lucy and Ron.
"Of course, it's okay with me," Lucy scoffed, elbowing him softly in the side. She giggled as he stuck his tongue out at her.
"Yeah, that would be fine," Ron spoke up.
Lucy's face broke into a wide grin, and she threw her arms around Ron's neck, squealing happily. "Yay!" she shouted, pulling away from Ron.
Ron looked at her like she'd grown another head, and the other boys also gave her strange looks. Hermione laughed lightly as she dug into her mashed potatoes.
~LJ:TH~
The morning of the match was cold and tense. Although Lucy was glad that Jeremy was going to be sitting with them, she, Hermione, and Ron were nervous about Harry. Hermione and Ron were still convinced that Snape was up to something.
Like the last match, Lucy, Hermione, and Ron saw Harry to the locker rooms. They wished him luck before leaving to find a seat in the stands. This time Jeremy accompanied them, following Lucy excitedly. She hadn't told him about the worries she and the others had about Snape refereeing, however.
Once they reached the pitch, the four of them joined Neville, who moved over to make more room for them.
"Why do you have your wands?" he asked, looking at Hermione and Ron in confusion.
They waved him off as Hermione muttered something in Ron's ear.
"I know," Ron replied irritably. "Don't nag."
Lucy giggled, snuggling deeper into her robes. It was very cold out; almost too cold for a Quidditch match, in her opinion.
"Look, even Dumbledore made it out," Jeremy said, pointing into the stands across the field.
Lucy looked quickly to where he was pointing, and a wave of relief washed over her. Harry had to be safe if Dumbledore was present.
"Welcome to today's Quidditch match!" Lee Jordan's voice announced. "Here comes the Hufflepuff team! Douglas, Ormskirk, Inglebee, Rickett, O'Flaherty, Fleet, and Diggory!"
The Hufflepuff supporters cheered as their Quidditch team trooped out of their locker room in bright yellow robes.
"Did you catch the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match earlier this year?" Lucy asked Jeremy.
"Yes," Jeremy replied. "You didn't go to it?"
"No," Lucy said with a shake of her head. "How's the Hufflepuff team? Are they any good?"
"They work well together for the most part," Jeremy answered. "After what I saw from your team, though, I'm sure Gryffindor will win with no problems."
"Next, the Gryffindor team!" Lee exclaimed. "Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, Weasley, Weasley, Wood, and Potter!"
The Gryffindor team, clad in scarlet robes, marched across the field to meet the Hufflepuffs in the center. Instead of Madam Hooch, Snape was waiting at midfield for them.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron said.
Hermione shrugged.
"Look—they're off. Ouch!" Ron cried.
Lucy looked at Ron in confusion.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley. I didn't see you there," came the drawl of Malfoy from behind them.
Lucy sent a glare at him over her shoulder. He was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, as usual, and was grinning wickedly.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time," he continued. "Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"
"Stuff it, Malfoy," Lucy spat before turning back to the match.
Ron didn't reply. Hermione paid nobody but Harry any attention; she stared up at him, her fingers all wrapped together.
After a few minutes, Malfoy asked, "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" None of the Gryffindors responded to him, so he answered himself, "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents—then there are the Weasleys, who've got no money. You should be on the team, Longbottom, seeing as you've got no brains."
Neville blushed deeply, and Lucy clutched at her wand in her pocket. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," Neville retorted, though somewhat nervously.
Malfoy and his friends laughed loudly.
"You tell him, Neville," Ron said, not taking his eyes away from the game.
"Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something," Malfoy sniggered.
"Oh, please, Malfoy; don't even start," Jeremy sneered.
"Whitlock!" Malfoy announced. "I didn't even see you there. What are you doing hanging out with Gryffindors? Betraying your own house, hm?"
"I'm just trying to enjoy a Quidditch match with my friends," Jeremy replied smoothly. "I know you don't have friends, so you probably don't know what it's like."
"Stop!" Hermione shouted suddenly. "Look! Harry—!"
"What? Where?" Lucy and Ron both exclaimed, looking frantically for Harry.
Harry was speeding toward the ground in a steep dive. Hermione anxiously bounced on the balls of her feet.
"You're in luck, Weasley; Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Malfoy said.
In a flash, Ron was tackling him to the ground. Lucy turned on her heel, whipped her wand out, and cast the Leg-Locker Curse on Crabbe. Neville scrambled over the back of his seat to help Ron, hitting Goyle cleanly in the face.
"Ron! Lucy! Where are you? The game's over!" Hermione was screaming. "Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!"
Lucy turned to see Harry flying around the stadium, the Snitch grasped tightly in his fist. "Yes, Harry!" she shouted, joining Hermione in her victory dance.
Jeremy laughed at the pair of them, clapping along with the rest of the crowd. "That was the shortest Quidditch match I've ever seen," he remarked as the Gryffindors in front of them started pouring out onto the field.
Lucy hugged him tightly around his middle as she continued to cheer. Ron rejoined them a moment later, sporting a bleeding nose but looking proud of his friend.
The Gryffindors' cheers didn't let up for a long time; they had done it. They were finally ahead of Slytherin in the race for the Quidditch Cup.
~LJ:TH~
After dinner that night, Fred and George threw an enormous party in Gryffindor Tower. Lucy, Ron, and Hermione waited outside of the portrait hole for Harry. It was getting later, and there was still no sign of him. Finally, he came up the stairs and spotted the three of them.
"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione asked, relieved.
"We won! You won! We won!" Ron chanted. "Guess what? I gave Malfoy a black eye, Lucy put the Leg-Locker Curse on Crabbe, and Neville took on Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right—talk about showing Slytherin!"
"Come on," Lucy added. "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, I think."
"Never mind that now," Harry said, still sounding short of breath. "Let's find an empty room. You wait until you hear this.…"
He escorted them into a nearby classroom, checking to make sure it was completely empty before shutting the door. Then he proceeded to tell them about seeing Snape confronting Quirrell in the forest.
"So, we were right," Harry finished. "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. Like 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?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron stated flatly.
"Look, even if Snape is trying to steal the stone, I'm sure he wouldn't do it while Dumbledore's around," Lucy argued. "Come on; let's just go and enjoy the party. We can't do anything about the stone right now that wouldn't get us into trouble."
The other three agreed half-heartedly, and Lucy led the way back to the portrait hole. She was worried about the safety of the stone, even if her friends didn't think she was. She didn't think that it was worth getting into trouble, however.
When she entered the common room, George pulled her over to the table with the cakes and pointed out the good ones. With that, all thoughts of the stone were driven from her mind, and she concentrated on having a good time at the party.
~LJ:TH~
A/N: In early drafts of this story, I called the stone the Sorcerer's Stone. At some point, I decided to change it to Philosopher's Stone. It's one of the most annoying things I find about the copies of Harry Potter that came out in America: that they changed some of the words and phrases to make it more Americanized.