"You were out of bed, roaming around the school!" said Hermione. "What if Filch had caught you?"

Elizabeth and Hermione had returned the day before term started. Harry and Ron told them that Harry had received an invisibility cloak for Christmas with no card attached and they had been using it to wander around the school. It seemed odd that someone would send Harry such a valuable gift and not say who it was from.

"Lighten up," said Ron. "We were just looking for anything about Nicolas Flamel like you wanted us to."

"And did you find anything?" asked Elizabeth.

"Nothing," said Harry. "How about you?"

She shook her head. "I searched all the books in the shop that I could think of and nothing. I even asked Gramps and he didn't know either." She sighed. "I guess it's back to the library again."

Once term started they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. They had virtually no time to properly search and were still no closer to finding anything than they were when they first started.

"I have another list of books to check for tomorrow," said Hermione.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron. "I need to concentrate."

Elizabeth and Ron were playing chess. Hermione refused to play because she always lost. Elizabeth always lost too. It was impossible to win against Ron. He was just unbeatable. That didn't stop her from trying though.

"Well, that's a first," said Elizabeth. "Didn't know that was possible for you."

Ron looked up from the board at her. He caught sight of Harry, who had just come back from Quidditch practice. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

"It's Snape," said Harry.

"What has he done to you now?" Elizabeth asked.

"He's going to referee the next Quidditch match."

"What?"

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg."

"Would you two knock it off." Elizabeth interrupted them. "Harry has to play. There's no reserve Seeker. If he doesn't play Gryffindor can't play at all. Wood would kill you, Harry."

Before anyone could say another word, Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Elizabeth jumped up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"Are you all right, Neville?" Elizabeth asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "What happened?"

"Malfoy," said Neville. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practise that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head. "I don't want more trouble."

"I can hex him for you if you like," Elizabeth offered. "What do you think about giving him antlers?"

"Elizabeth!" said Hermione. "You can't stoop to Malfoy's level."

"Why not?"

"Elizabeth's right," said Ron. "Neville's got to stand up for himself. Malfoy'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," said Neville, "Malfoy's already done that."

Elizabeth was fed up with Malfoy and the way he was treating her friends. She thought poor Neville never did anything to deserve that sort of treatment. "Don't listen to him, Neville. Malfoy's just jealous."

She knew she was right. Malfoy was jealous, he was just jealous of Harry. It was rather obvious to Elizabeth that this was the case and cursing Neville was just a personal attack on Harry and his friends.

Harry handed Neville a Chocolate Frog. Hermione had sent him a box for Christmas, while Elizabeth sent him his own copy of Quidditch Through the Ages so he could return the library's copy and not risk having Snape try and take it again.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lip twitched into a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. Elizabeth thought everyone underestimated him, even himself. She had great faith in Neville though. He didn't have much self-confidence and that held him back. She was sure that once he got over that he'd be fine. He wasn't very good at Charms or Potions, but he was fantastic at Herbology. He just had a different set of skills she thought, and he didn't see it yet.

"Thanks, Harry," said Neville, "I think I'll go to bed. D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

As Neville walked away, Elizabeth watched Harry.

"What?" said Harry. "Why are looking at me like that?"

"What you said to Neville, well, I think he really needed that. The Chocolate Frog too." Harry laughed. "So, what card did you get?"

Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card. "Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever ─"

He gasped.

"What?"

"I've found him!" whispered Harry. "Liz, this is it! I found Flamel!" He looked up at Ron and Hermione. "I knew 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 twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Alchemy?" Elizabeth asked, as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"Stay there!" said Hermione, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls dormitories.

Elizabeth was suddenly piecing everything together. Alchemy was the study of making the Philosopher's Stone. It all made sense now. That had to be what the dog was guarding. It was rare, valuable, and it produced the Elixir of Life, the same Potion that Snape had questioned her on that day in class. He must have been trying to see if any of them could figure out that the dog was guarding the Philosopher's Stone. She now felt stupid for not having realised it earlier.

Hermione dashed back with an enormous book in her arms. "I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron, grumpily. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

"You think that's what the dog's guarding?" asked Elizabeth.

Hermione nodded.

"What's the dog guarding?" said Ron.

"What's the Philosopher's Stone?" said Harry.

"Oh, honestly, neither of you read, do you?" said Hermione looking at Ron and Harry. "Look ─ read that, there." She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:

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 will make the drinker immortal.

There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the celebrated alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifity-eight).

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it!"

"Snape's not trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone," said Elizabeth. "That day in class he questioned me about the Elixir of Life. He must have been trying to see if we could figure it out and we have. Surely, if he was trying to steal it, he wouldn't want anyone to know what it was he was after. Snape's stupid, but not that stupid."

This seemed to make some sense to Hermione. "Then who would be after it if not Snape?" she said.

"Filch," suggested Ron.

"I wouldn't put it past Filch," said Elizabeth. "I mean, look at him. He's miserable and the Stone would make his life better."

"And longer," said Ron. "No wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

The next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts they were copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites. Elizabeth was all too familiar with werewolves. Margaret would lecture Richard and her all about them and had ever since they were little. Thomas said it was because William used to have a friend at school that was a werewolf, but he wasn't anything like the kind of monsters Margaret was making them all out to be; monsters like Fenrir Greyback, who thought nothing of biting a small child. He actually preferred to bite children in order to take them from their parents and raise them amongst other werewolves in support of Voldemort, conditioning them to hate normal people. He had gone beyond just becoming ravenous during his transformations. He bit people even in his untransformed state. Margaret had always warned them of him ever since he got away from William once and they all knew if he ever encountered him again that there was no way he would let him get away again. He had caught onto Greyback's trail twice since and lost him both times. She kept them away from Knockturn Alley, on the suspicion he might be meeting other wizards there, but it wasn't often he left his underground community, not since he was wanted anyway. William, however, was a regular in Knockturn Alley on the hope he would run into Greyback. He wasn't usually one to use the "Shoot to kill" policy that Bartemius Crouch Sr. introduced in the 1970s when he was head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but he had said he would gladly make an exception for Fenrir Greyback.

As the day of the Gryffindor verses Hufflepuff match arrived, everyone was nervous. They hoped that nothing went wrong this time, especially since Snape was refereeing. Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth wished Harry good luck outside the locker rooms, and then found a place in the stands next to Neville. He couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had each brought their wands to the match. Ron and Hermione had prepared to hex Snape if he tried anything. They spent the match watching him, but Elizabeth was carefully glancing at Draco Malfoy, who was looking awfully suspicious and coming their way.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," said Ron. "Look ─ they're off. Ouch!"

Malfoy had poked Ron in the back of the head. "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer. Elizabeth turned around, her wand pointed at Malfoy. "Sod off before I give you hives," she said, referring to using the hives hex on Malfoy.

"Elizabeth, you must stop defending blood traitors," said Malfoy. "Soon enough you'll be no better than that giant loving grandfather of yours."

Elizabeth jumped up from her seat, ready to pounce on him, but Hermione pulled her back down.

"Ignore him," said Hermione.

That was easier said than done. Elizabeth wasn't the type of person to let anyone insult her friends and family. To call her grandfather a giant lover was reviling.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later as Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for no reason. Elizabeth didn't want to hear what he had to say. He infuriated her and if he said one more thing she was going to use the silencing charm on him. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money ─ come to think of it, you and Longbottom should be on the team, Wellington. You for being raised by traitors and Longbottom for having no brains."

Elizabeth clenched her fists, but kept her eyes on the game. She noticed Neville next to her go bright red, but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Elizabeth smiled slightly. She was really going to have to tell Harry about it later. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter.

"You tell him, Neville," said Elizabeth, still not daring to take her eyes from the game, otherwise she might just forget her wand and straight out slap Draco so hard his cheek would permanently have colour to it. "You're better than him."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

"I'm warning you Malfoy," said Ron, his nerves already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry. "One more word ─"

"What are you going to do, Weasley? You can't stand up for yourself anymore than Longbottom over here."

Neville's face fell. Elizabeth tore her eyes from the game. "Don't listen to him," she whispered to Neville, "I think you're wonderful." Neville forced a weak smile. "Come on, let's just watch the match." She linked arms with him and went back to watching the game.

"Well, would you look at that," said Malfoy. "I didn't think it was possible for you to do worse than Weasley over here, Elizabeth, but apparently I was wrong."

"Well then, you must not have considered yourself, did you?" said Elizabeth coolly. She didn't look back at him, but guessed that there was probably a pink tinge in his pale cheeks and that he was scowling at her.

Suddenly Harry dove towards the ground, drawing gasps and cheers from the crowd. Elizabeth watched him intently, not noticing that her arm had slipped out of Neville's and she was now gripping the edges of her seat tightly.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape.

Elizabeth was slowly leaning forward in anticipation, almost falling out of her seat. She tightened her grip on the edges. Neither her or Hermione heard the commotion of yelps and fists behind them. They were cheering far too loud.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to get out of Harry's way. He zoomed past Snape and a second later he had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph. He had caught the Snitch. The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

Elizabeth jumped onto her seat like Hermione. "The game's over! Harry's won!" said Elizabeth elated, hugging Hermione.

"We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat. "Ron! Ron! Where are you?"

They had just noticed Ron and Neville had disappeared. Elizabeth spotted them under Crabbe and Goyle in the row behind them, engaged in an all out brawl. She jumped over her seat.

"Ron!"

A/N: Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Thirteen, Nicolas Flamel pages 215 to 220, and pages 221 to 224.