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Harry Potter/Granger and the Philosopher's Stone
With Norbert out of their lives at last, Harry, Hermione and Ron were finally able to turn their attention back to more conventional problems; specifically, the upcoming exams and revising for them in a manner that wouldn't cause them to suffer heart attacks when they were in their twenties from the sheer stress of it.
Of course, they did have their occasional moment of pleasure, particularly from seeing Malfoy's expression at breakfast the next morning. Not only was he staring at them as though he'd just swallowed something terrible and was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, but practically the whole of Slytherin was shunning him, evidently knowing well that it was his fault alone that they had suddenly lost twenty points the last night.
Ron, of course, was ecstatic about it when he got out of the hospital wing a few days later and heard the fully story of what had happened that night. Harry and Hermione were both grateful that they'd waited until they were alone in their part of the common room during one of Gryffindor's unofficial 'revision periods'; given that making too much noise wouldn't make Ron the most popular of people, he was unlikely to attract all that much attention to himself.
"Brilliant!" he said, grinning broadly at them as soon as they had finished recounting the events of that night to him. "You mean Malfoy got caught trying to catch you? And they've got no idea he was actually telling the truth for once?"
"Yep," Harry said, smiling over at his friend as he glanced up from the book he was reading at the moment. Alan had recently sent him, as a belated Christmas present, a rather intriguing Holmes-based book written by a man called Loren D Estleman, featuring Holmes going up against Count Dracula, and he was currently half-way through the novel. He'd taken to reading it during his leisure time, as he did most of the books he'd brought with him to Hogwarts, and currently the two of them were taking time out from their revision while Hermione looked for a certain book. "Of course, it was still pretty close, but with the cloak, it was a piece of proverbial cake to get out of there really."
He paused for a moment as he read the page in front of him, and then sighed slightly as he placed his bookmark in and placed the book on the table in front of him.
"Problem?" Ron asked, looking curiously at his friend.
"Yeah…" Harry said, sighing as he looked back at Ron. "I sometimes wish I knew what was missing from this picture we've put together. I mean, I get that Snape seems to be after the Philosopher's Stone, we know that Hagrid's pet Cerberus is the only thing that he doesn't seem to know how to get past, we know that Snape seems to be having some kind of trouble with Quirrell, we know which other teachers were involved in setting up the protection for the Stone…"
Groaning, he raised one hand to rub at his scar, which had recently started to throb slightly at irregular intervals. He didn't think it was anything serious, of course- as long as he could remember the scar had become more like a birthmark than an actual injury in his mind- but it was still rather annoying.
"I just can't escape the feeling that there's something about this whole puzzle that we haven't managed to figure out yet," he said, as he looked back at Ron and Hermione. "I mean, why would Snape want to steal the Stone? If he wants to be rich, there's got to be easier ways of making money than going through all the defences the Stone must have around it, and why would he want immortality?"
Ron look at Harry like his friend had grown an extra head, but, before he could say anything, Hermione had jumped in with a sharp glare in Ron's direction.
"Face facts, Ron," she said, as she glared critically at her friend, "Snape doesn't seem to have anything wrong with his health, he's shown no real desire for the power you might get from being immortal- he may like belittling us in class, but that's just simple vindictiveness rather than actual desire to be in charge as far as I can see- and as for money… well, Harry said it best; there's got to be easier ways to make it than trying to go through all the traps between Fluffy and the entrance."
For a brief time, it looked as though Ron was going to object to his friends' thoughts, but, as soon as he'd opened his mouth, he stopped, seemed to spend a few seconds in thought, and then nodded slowly.
"It… does fit…" he said, looking at Harry and Hermione with no small degree of admiration. "How'd you two get that good at figuring people out?"
Harry smiled nonchalantly at his friend.
"I've read too many murder mysteries for my own good," he said by way of explanation, as he indicated the book he still held in his hands. "It left me with a good mind for cracking mysteries."
"Well, you're good when you put your mind to it and they give you a few clues," Hermione said, grinning over at Harry teasingly. "I mean, you're good when it comes to working out whodunit in Sherlock Holmes cases, but what about those Christie novels? Gives you more of a problem then, doesn't it?"
"Who?" Ron said, looking in confusion between his friends.
"Never mind," Harry said, shrugging it off casually as he turned back to his book, before he sighed and put it off to the side, reaching up to rub at his scar once again as he looked back at his friends. "You know, we've been cooped up in here too long; I'm going off for a quick walk. Anyone want to join me?"
Ron moved to get up, but Hermione grabbed his hand and shook her head warningly at him before she looked over at Harry.
"Sorry, Harry, but one of us has to make sure this boy actually gets some work done," she said, looking critically at Ron. "You know, you can't just skip work because you're bored; after all that time you spent in the hospital wing, you're significantly behind the rest of us!"
"C'mon, 'Mione, couldn't you just…?" Ron said, looking pleadingly at his friend.
"No," Hermione stated simply, glaring in a fixed manner at Ron. "You're far enough behind as it is; you're doing some work, right here, right now, and that is final."
Harry knew that look well enough; when Hermione was using it, nothing and nobody could make her change her mind.
"Sorry, Ron," he said, shrugging in an apologetic manner as he grinned at his friend. "You can't argue with Hermione when she's like this; trust me, I've tried."
"But… but…" Ron protested, staring pleadingly at his friend.
"Sorry, but you're on your own here," Harry said apologetically, shrugging as he turned to walk towards the portrait hole, grinning slightly as he heard Ron continue to protest as Hermione started talking to him. He knew that it was a bit unfair on Ron, leaving him alone to deal with Hermione like that, but Harry had to be cruel to be kind; if Ron was ever going to pass this year, he'd need to do some serious catch-up work, and Hermione was the best candidate to do that. He may have been just as attentive to his work as his sister, but he couldn't deny that Hermione was better at getting people motivated.
After all, she'd encouraged him to work harder when they'd first met; at the time, he was still trying to get over his fears that he'd get beaten up if he was too good at the work. He'd known that the Grangers wouldn't actually hit him, of course, but some instinctive habits were hard to break, even if they hadn't had that much time to develop. He was always grateful that both his parents and sister had managed to get through to him on that front; it had taken a few months after the adoption, but he'd eventually reached a state where he could sometimes surpass Hermione at times.
Harry was so caught up in his reminiscing about his and Hermione's early days as a family that he walked around a corner and practically crashed into the large form of Hagrid as the gamekeeper came around the corner.
"Harry?" Hagrid said, looking at the young wizard in concern as he crouched down to help the young student up. "Are yer OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, looking up at his friend with an apologetic smile. "Sorry; I should have watched where I was going."
Then he frowned as he stared at the gamekeeper, a thought occurring to him; in the last few months, he'd never seen Hagrid inside Hogwarts except for meal-times at the staff table and that occasion when he'd been looking for that dragon book in the library.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his expression changing to confusion. "Is everything… well, OK?"
"Eh… not quite, Harry," Hagrid said, looking at the young student with a saddened expression in his eyes. "I was jus' checkin' the outskirts o' the forest, an' discovered a dead unicorn lyin' out there."
"A dead unicorn?" Harry said, his eyes wide as he took in what Hagrid had just told him. "There are unicorns out there? I… well, I guess I always thought they"
"Oh yeah; beautiful things," Hagrid said, smiling briefly at Harry before he sighed, his expression becoming melancholy once again. "Thought I saw traces of blood leadin' away from the body; think there's something out there that's attackin' the unicorns fer some reason. I need ter ask Dumbledore if there's any way I could get some help in checkin' ter see if there's somethin' in there we should be worried about; don't want something that'd kill unicorns walking about on its own."
"Why?" Harry asked, looking at Hagrid inquiringly. "I mean, maybe it's just a wild animal or something…"
Hagrid shook his head.
"Nah, couldn't be; wounds were too neat," he explained. "I know what's in that forest better than most, and if they got it inter themselves ter attack a unicorn, it wouldn't be at the edge, and it'd be in a lot worse shape. This 'un…"
He sighed, as he looked at Harry. "If I didn' know better, I'd think a human had killed it. All that blood…"
"Blood?" Harry began to say, before Hagrid's eyes widened, as though he couldn't believe what he'd just been saying.
"I shouldn'ta told yer that!" he said, looking as though he wished he could beat himself up for what he'd jus told Harry. "Ferget I ever said anything! Hey- where're yeh going?"
Harry didn't stop to answer his friend; he just tore through the corridors as fast as he dared without actually risking running into things, his eyes narrowed in a determine manner as he headed for the library. During a dull lunch period when they'd been revising potion ingredients, he'd looked up why unicorn hair and horns were such useful ingredients (Something about them being powerful light magic creatures) but there'd been something about the use of unicorn blood that he couldn't quite remember.
It hadn't been much- it had been mainly discouraging people from using it, now that he thought about it- but maybe if he looked in the library, he'd manage to find out more…
As soon as he'd reached the library, he hurried over to the shelf where he'd last seen the book as fast as he dared- he didn't want to anger Madam Pince by making too much noise- pulled the book off its shelf, taken it to a desk, and opened it at the place he'd seen the information in question.
"Oh no…" he muttered to himself, as his eyes took in what was written before him with ever-growing dread.
"Unicorn blood itself has remarkable powers, enabling the drinker to remain alive regardless of their own state at the time of drinking. However, given the incredible purity of unicorns, this action would leave the drinker cursed due to the utter selfishness of what they have done; for no reason other than for themselves, they have slain a pure, innocent creature for their own ends, and they will live a cursed life from the moment they drink the blood. For this reason alone, the use of unicorn blood for any purpose carries an instant penalty of imprisonment-"
Harry didn't bother to read any more; he already knew what he'd come to the library to find out.
If just drinking unicorn blood could have those kind of consequences- eternal punishment, life imprisonment- then it seemed unlikely that the unicorns Hagrid had found dead had been killed for their blood, but, given that Hagrid hadn't mentioned anything else missing from the bodies, blood seemed like the most likely motive for the murders.
Of course, the part about being cursed forever was a problem, but given that the Philosopher's Stone- an item capable of conferring eternal life on the user- was currently beneath Hogwarts, and these deaths had occurred not too far away, Harry was prepared to bet his broomstick that the unicorn blood was just being used until the killer could acquire the Stone.
But who could be that desperate to stay alive? Harry asked himself, staring in shock at the information. It can't be Snape; that git may be a pain in the neck, but he's as healthy as you could want…
Then, in a wave of horror, it hit Harry.
The words Hagrid had said when he'd first come to tell him and Hermione about their magical powers, when Harry had asked for further details about the night his parents had died.
"Some say he died; codswallop, in my opinion. Don't know if he had enough human left in him ter die…"
"Oh my God…" Harry whispered to himself, looking up from the book, his eyes widening in horror as he took in what he'd just realised. "It's him… it's got to be…"
Just when he thought the situation was as bad as it could get, it just became worse.
When Harry got back to the common room, he was only partially surprised to see that Ron and Hermione were still working at the same table they'd been at when he'd left them. Whenever Harry tried to get Ron to study, his friend would have, by this point in time, tried to get out of studying and have to be forced back down into a different chair at least once by now, but Hermione always seemed to be able to convince Ron to actually focus more on his work. Harry had never been able to quite work out how his sister could be such a better influence on Ron, and, right now, he didn't care.
They had a serious problem on their hands.
As soon as they'd heard the portrait hole open, Ron and Hermione had glanced around to see who it was, both of them smiling when they saw who it was (Albeit for different reasons; Hermione was glad to see her brother back and Ron was grateful for any opportunity to take a break from studying).
A part of Harry almost hated to do or say anything that would stop his friend and the girl who was his sister in every way that counted smiling.
But, right now, if he didn't tell them about the problem now, there may never be an excuse for them to smile in the future.
"I know why Snape's after the Stone," he said, looking at the two of them, his fear evident in his eyes as he looked at his friends, desperately beckoning them over to a corner of the room so they couldn't be overheard.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, looking at her brother, noting the fearful expression on his face; it was clear that, whatever Harry had discovered it was nothing but bad news.
"It's Voldemort," Harry said simply. "He wants it to bring Voldemort back."
Hermione's eyes widened in shock; Ron, on the other hand, just looked terrified at the very name Harry had just said.
"What?" Hermione said, staring at her brother with wide, horrified eyes.
Ever since they'd discovered the truth about how Harry's parents had died, Voldemort had been the one subject of the wizarding world they'd never really discussed between the two of them, preferring to leave it in the past. If nothing else, the subject of Harry's 'real' family was always an uncomfortable one for Hermione; on some level, she always worried that Harry wouldn't think of her as his sister if he knew too much about his birth parents.
It was a foolish fear, she knew, but that was just how she felt at times.
But if the man who'd actually killed Harry's parents was involved in this…
Hermione's own feelings on the matter aside, if Voldemort was here and Harry wanted to face him, she was resolved that her brother wouldn't have to fight him alone.
"But… but how can it be Voldemort?" she continued, ignoring the look on Ron's face that made him seem as though he was trying to keep from screaming in horror at the name they'd just said. "Hagrid told us he was dead!"
"No, Hagrid said that some people thought he was dead; Hagrid thought that Voldemort wasn't human enough to die," Harry explained, giving Ron an exasperated glance before he continued to talk, trying to ignore his friend's ridiculously terrified expression at the reference to Voldemort (As far as names went, Harry personally thought that he'd heard scarier names in comics- 'Abattoir' alone had sounded more vicious. Besides, when you got down to it, what was actually scary about a name?). "Look, I know it's a bit of a stretch, but when I was out walking I ran into Hagrid, and he told me that he's found a couple of dead unicorns lately, with a heavy emphasis being put on the amount of blood that was left at the 'crime scenes'."
"So?" Ron put in, looking at Harry with a puzzled expression that seemed to be also verging on total panic, most likely just at the thought that somebody with Voldemort's evidently terrifying reputation was active in the school.
"Well, I took a look in the library," Harry explained, briefly rolling his eyes at Ron's stunned expression- the library wasn't that hard to find stuff in if you were actually trying to look for something- before he continued speaking, "and found a book that revealed that unicorn blood is only useful for one thing; keeping the user alive, no matter what kind of state they're in, but at the cost of cursing them because they'd killed a pure creature like a unicorn for no other reason than to help themselves. It just seemed to me that nobody would do something like that unless they were already so weak that they just needed unicorn blood to give them enough strength to get at something more potent- such as, of course, the Stone- and it just struck me; who else would be that desperate to stay alive?"
"You mean… Voldemort?" Hermione whispered softly, staring at her brother with wide, horrified eyes as she took in what he'd just told them.
"Don't-say-his-name!" Ron hissed anxiously at them, looking around as though he was afraid the man in question was going to pop up out of thin air just at the mention of his name.
"Ron," Harry groaned, glancing over at his friend, "the man who's meant to be the most powerful Dark Lord for the last three hundred years may be in this school trying to get at the Philosopher's Stone, and you're worrying about a stupid name? It's not like he's going to appear out of thin air just by saying it, you know!"
"B-but…" Ron began, before he noticed the identical exasperated glares Harry and Hermione were shooting in his direction and wisely decided it would be best if he just stayed silent.
Shooting Ron yet another exasperated glare, making it clear that, as far as he was concerned, his friend needed to grow up and get over such an idiotic fear, Harry turned to look at Hermione.
"Anyway," he said, looking at his sister in a slightly anxious manner, "you've heard my theory; do you think it works?"
For a moment, Hermione just stood there in silence, turning over what Harry had just said in her mind, before she finally nodded, slow, deliberate nods as she looked back at her two friends.
"It does fit with what we've got so far…" she said, looking approvingly at her brother as she continued speaking. "After all, we've been stuck with figuring out Snape's motive in going after the Stone from the beginning; if he's doing it for Voldemort, everything makes a lot more sense…"
"Pretty much what I was thinking," Harry said, before he sighed and looked over at the rest of Gryffindor House, all of whom were sitting around in the common in various stages of either revision or leisure activities. "Too bad we can't actually tell anybody…"
"What?" Ron said, looking incredulously at Harry. "Are you crazy? If You-Know-Who's-"
"Firstly, his name is Voldemort- it's dumb, I know, but saying it's a lot less stupid than saying 'You-Know-Who' all the time- and secondly, what kind of proof have we got that Snape's actually doing anything?" Harry pointed out, glaring critically over at Ron. "Quirrell's the only other 'witness' to the fact that Snape seems to be trying anything, and he's too scared to back us up if we went to Dumbledore. Besides, it's hardly a secret that we all hate Snape- they'll just assume we've made all this up to get him sacked- and how would we explain knowing about the Stone and Fluffy without getting Hagrid in trouble?"
Hermione sighed.
"Good points, Harry," she said, as she looked over at Ron to place a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, Ron; I wish we could tell someone as much as you do, but we don't have so much as a scrap of proof that we haven't just concocted an elaborate story to get Snape in trouble."
She sighed again as she glanced over at her brother, an anxious expression on her face as she looked at him. "I guess all we can do is keep an ear out in case something else comes up, huh?"
"Yeah…" Harry said, looking back at the other Gryffindors as they studied, a wistful expression on his face.
He had never before wished more strongly that he could have an easier life than he did…
Over the next few weeks, despite his occasional fears that Voldemort was going to come charging into the classroom to try and kill him and/or Hermione at any moment, Harry forced himself to concentrate on his written and practical exams. Despite the stifling heat in the classrooms where they had to sit the written papers, Harry generally thought he managed to retain his focus well enough, getting several decent lengths of parchment out of his assigned topics before the exams were over.
The practical exams, though, were definitely more fun that he'd ever expected to have doing schoolwork back in the old days. Flitwick's exam in particular- making a pineapple tap-dance along the desk- was rather amusing once you remembered how to do it, although the Transfiguration test of turning a mouse into a snuff-box could get rather repetitive after a while.
Fortunately, Harry wasn't as concerned by the Voldemort issue as he might have expected. Maybe it was Hermione's influence, encouraging him to stay calm almost without even trying- something she seemed to have picked up over the years with him, particularly those few months after the adoption where a part of him remained worried about being attacked by the Dursleys- but he found in rather easy to forget about the problem of Voldemort's presence and focus on his exams.
Finally, after several days of exam work, Harry and his friends finished their last exam- History of Magic, which, as always, missed out anything interesting in wizarding history to focus on questions that could have been used as a cure for insomnia if you were really desperate- and walked out into the sunshine, smiling in relief at the thought of the next week or so of freedom.
"Thank GOD…" Hermione said, smiling as she glanced over at her brother. "I know I enjoy work and all, but you reach a point where you just can't take any more…"
Ron snorted slightly, as though he was about to start laughing at the idea of Hermione not being interested in work, but a brief glare from Harry stopped him.
Turning back to look at the fields before him, Harry sighed as he rubbed at his scar while walking.
He couldn't explain exactly what it was, but, ever since he'd had his revelation about Voldemort, he'd been unable to shake the nagging feeling that he was missing something about this whole situation. Oh, everything about why Snape was after the Stone and why Voldemort had to be behind it made sense, but there was something else that didn't fit… something that didn't seem to be connected at first but was definitely important…
Then it hit Harry.
"Of course…" he muttered to himself, as he rapidly changed direction to head towards Hagrid's hut, only just registering that Ron and Hermione were following him.
"What is it?" Ron asked, looking in confusion at his friend.
"The last piece of the puzzle just hit me," Harry explained, as he glanced back at Ron. "It had been bothering me for a while, but I couldn't see it because it didn't seem to be connected."
"What didn't seem to be connected?" Hermione asked.
"Don't you think it's just a bit odd," Harry continued, as they got ever closer to the hut, "that what Hagrid want more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one?"
Hermione's eyes widened as she realised what Harry had just said.
"God, we're idiots!" she yelled, staring at her brother in exasperation. "I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets when it's against the law?"
"Exactly," Harry said, as he continued on, Ron and Hermione close behind him.
Hagrid was sitting outside the hut when they arrived there, his sleeves rolled up as he shelled peas into a pod.
"Hullo," he said, smiling as he looked up at them. "Finished yer exams, have yeh?"
"Yeah, we did, thanks," Harry replied, trying to be as polite as he could. "Hagrid, who gave you that dragon egg? What did he look like?"
"Dunno," Hagrid said casually. "Never saw his face; he kept his hood up."
Harry blinked in surprise at Hagrid's apparently nonchalant attitude to that, but Hermione beat him to his next question before he could think of what to say next.
"This stranger, though…" she said, looking uncertainly at their friend, as though reluctant to risk Hagrid's friendship by going too far, but knowing that she had to ask it, "you and he must have talked, right?"
"Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after," Hagrid said, shrugging nonchalantly, as though he wasn't discussing anything important- which, admittedly, he probably assumed he wasn't. "And I told him, after Fluffy a dragon's gonna be no problem…"
"And… did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, a part of him praying Hagrid would answer in the negative even as the rest of him knew he wouldn't.
"Well, of course he was interested in Fluffy!" Hagrid said, chuckling as though the idea of somebody not being interested in Fluffy was absurd. "How often do you come across three headed dogs do you come across even if you're in the trade? But I told him, I said, I said, "The trick with any beast is to know how to calm him." Take Fluffy for example, just play him a bit of music and he falls straight asleep-"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Hagrid looked horrified with himself.
"I shouldn't have told you that!" he blurted out. "Ferget I said anything! Wait- where're ye going? Where're ye-?
Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all as they hurried back to the castle, focusing all their energy on getting back to the common room, where they instantly hurried over to a quiet corner where they could talk without anybody overhearing them (Admittedly, that wasn't hard, given that nobody was inside at the moment, but they still preferred to be out of range of anybody who might enter while they were talking).
"Great," Harry muttered, as he glanced between his friends. "So much for any hopes that Fluffy will be a problem; whoever's behind this has known how to get past that obstacle since around Christmas…"
"But… there's still Quirrell's spell, right?" Ron put in, looking anxiously at Harry. "Maybe that'll be enough…"
"Ron," Hermione said, shooting an exasperated glare at her friend, "firstly, we have no way of knowing that Quirrell hasn't given in already- the man may be a teacher, but he's such a wreck that he could have stopped trying to resist Snape months ago and we wouldn't have noticed- and secondly, we're dealing with Voldemort here, remember? I somehow doubt anything Quirrell's come up with could pose a long-term problem to the man who terrorized Britain for the better part of a decade!"
"Right then," Harry said, as he nodded in quiet resolution, "there's no other option; we'll have to go to Dumbledore." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry raised a hand to stop him. "I know we still don't have any evidence, but it's all we've got right now, OK? If Voldemort knows how to get past Fluffy- and most likely knows what all the other 'traps' are to protect the stone- we have to tell somebody."
"Right," Hermione said, indicating the door of the common room. "Let's go; the sooner the better."
However, no sooner had the three of them stepped out of the common room and begun to head down a corridor, a voice suddenly rang out from behind them.
"What are the three of you doing inside?"
It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a pile of books.
"Oh, professor…" Hermione sighed in relief as she turned to look at the deputy headmistress. "We have to see Professor Dumbledore immediately!"
McGonagall looked at the three of them in slight surprise at that, as though surprised that any first year students should need to see the headmaster for no apparent reason.
"I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore's not here," she said simply. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London."
"He's gone?" Ron said, staring at her in horror. "But this is important!"
"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Mr Weasley?"
"Look," Harry said, concluding that the direct approach was their only hope right now, "this is about the Philosopher's Stone!"
Harry was grateful to note that this, at least, had the effect he'd been hoping for; McGonagall's eyes widened in shock and she nearly dropped the books she was holding.
"How did you know-?" she began.
"Someone's going to try to steal it!
For a moment, McGonagall eyed him with shock and suspicion, and then seemed to make up her mind as her face became neutral once again.
"I don't know how you three found out about the Stone," she said, looking at them with an expression that made it clear she still thought they were only wasting her time, "but I assure you it is perfectly well protected. Now would you go back to the common room?"
Exchanging concerned glances as they realised that McGonagall clearly wasn't going to listen to their warnings right now, the three of them turned around and walked back into the common room, slumping dejectedly down into three empty chairs as they looked at each other.
After a moment of silent reflection and concern, Ron broke the silence.
"We're in trouble," he said simply, as he looked over at his friends. "Snape knows how to get past Fluffy… that probably means he knows how to get past everything the other teachers did."
"And with Dumbledore gone…" Hermione put in, a faint look of fear clear on her face as she stared briefly up at the ceiling, as though trying to look for hope of some kind.
"Yeah…" Harry said, nodding grimly as he looked at his sister.
Neither of them had to speak; they both knew that the same thought was currently occupying their minds.
With Dumbledore- the only person Voldemort had ever actually feared- gone from Hogwarts, it seemed a safe bet that Snape and Voldemort would be going after the Philosopher's Stone that very night.
And, since they still had absolutely no evidence that there was anything wrong, there was only one thing for them to do.
Looking once more at his friends to make sure they knew what he was about to say, Harry made his decision.
"We're going down the trapdoor," he said resolutely, looking between Ron and Hermione, grateful to see no sign of disagreement from the two of them.
It was a terrifying prospect, of course- Harry knew that as well as anybody could, given what he'd lost the last time Voldemort was in power- but, when the alternative was allowing Voldemort to regain power…
They had to risk it.