Matou Shinji and the Philosopher's Stone

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: Ladies of Eternity, magi of the past hiding in the present, with ancient, nigh unfathomable crafts at their command. That is the destiny of a Witch in the Moonlit world, with the female child of a witch bearing the destiny of inheriting the blood and history of their line without any exceptions, upon which the mother will expire, her task done. But this is a story of a Witch's son – a boy tossed aside by destiny – a boy determined to become someone special, with blood, sweat, and wand. This is the story of Shinji Matou, and his newfound path in the Wizarding World.

Chapter 16. Losses and Gains

The opening game of the Hogwarts Quidditch season ended rather disastrously for Gryffindor, as the Slytherin House Team had dominated the match, consistently outscoring their traditional rivals. Frankly, it was worse than the legendary match the year before, where despite the presence of the talented Seeker Charlie Weasley, Slytherin had utterly flattened the House of the Courageous.

Their only consolation was that Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, had been taken out of action due to the work of Gryffindor's Beaters, the Weasley Twins, who had skillfully directed the Bludgers towards him. Perhaps it seemed vengeful or petty, but to Gryffindor, it had been a reminder that even outscored and outmaneuvered, no one could simply afford to ignore them – and it had been the move that had prompted Slytherin to end the game before more of their players became injured.

Of course, while crippling Flint had been a popular move with the Gryffindors, it didn't make them any friends with the other houses, and so to avoid being mobbed by angry Slytherins, the Twins had retreated to Hogwarts' Kitchens, where they hoped a hot meal would make them feel better. At the very least, they could see what the Boy-Who-Lived thought of how Hogwarts handled Quidditch, the Wizarding World's most feted sport.

Thankfully, no one accosted them along the way, but then they knew the secret ways of Hogwarts – and the secrets of sneaking about unseen – better than most. So it was without incident that they arrived at the kitchens, tickling the pear on the painting that served as the door and turning the resulting knob to gain access—

—only to find that they were not alone.

For, house-elves aside, the Kitchens were already occupied by a very troubled Harry Potter, who sat looking down at a platter of roast chicken and vegetables as if he'd seen a Grim in the food's arrangement – an omen of impending death. A Harry Potter who didn't seem to acknowledge their entrance.

'Did he miss the game?' was their first thought. Their second however…

"Harry, mate, what's wrong?" one of the twins asked. "You look out of sorts—"

"—like You-Know-Who just walked over your grave!" added the other.

Perhaps the joke was less than entirely tasteful, as that was less, as Harry's response was to pale, his form seeming to shrink into itself as he looked up, his expression haunted.

"…Harry?" George asked, now actually a bit concerned. Something had clearly happened before they'd come in, and they didn't know what. And…since Potter had reacted so strongly, did it have to do with You-Know-Who? But…that Dark Wizard was dead, wasn't he?

"Are you alright?" Fred chimed in, with the twins taking seats across from him. Their issues – losing the Quidditch match – could wait, especially if a friend needed them. It was an odd thing, to think of a Slytherin as a friend, especially given the traditional rivalry between the Houses of the Lion and the Snake, but then, not many Slytherins would have had the courage to stand up to a troll, and even fewer as a first year. "What's on your mind?"

"Quirrell," Harry managed to say, though he seemed shaken. "And the Forbidden Corridor."

"We know about that—" Fred began.

"—Sokaris and Matou told us, mate," George finished, only for his brows to knit together as he noticed something. "But there's more, isn't there?"

"What happened, Harry?" they asked together.

It seemed like almost a small eternity before the Boy-Who-Lived replied.

"I didn't go to the Quidditch match today," Harry admitted, deciding to begin at the beginning, with the less traumatic bits. "I went to Hagrid's hut for tea."

"We kind of guessed—"

"—you weren't there—"

"—since you were here before us."

"Right," Harry said softly. "Well, you know the break-in at Gringotts? It happened the day I went to Diagon Alley with Hagrid."

Go on, their eyes seemed to be telling him.

"He emptied the vault, took the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts. And Quirrell was there that day too – I saw him at the Leaky Cauldron."

"The Defense Professor—"

"—was the one who broke in to Gringotts?"

"And what's this about the Philosopher's Stone?" Hillard asked, as the prefect entered the kitchens, frowning as he looked around. "You haven't seen Matou or Granger here, have you?" The trio already there shook their heads. "I see. Then they must be at the library, with how much those two love their books. Didn't know they'd made up though. But yes, the Stone?"

"Hagrid didn't say what it was exactly, just that it was between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel," Harry related, shaking his head. "S-sokaris was the one who told me what Flamel had made. That it could turn cure any illness, even stop death."

"Well, we knew more about the—"

"—turn things into gold part," the Weasley Twins admitted. "But that's what Quirrell is after, huh? Can't blame him for that, I guess. But why—"

"—would he risk stealing it from Hogwarts?"

"Now that is a good question," Hillard noted, as he joined the others at the table. "I had wondered what would make him so willing to challenge Professor Dumbledore – in Hogwarts itself, no less, but the Stone makes sense as few things would. It is one of those objects of legend among wizards, but then who doesn't want to live forever? But…it doesn't quite add up. Even the Stone wouldn't be enough to protect you from Dumbledore's wrath. They only considered two wizards possibly his equal: Grindelwald, who he defeated, and—"

"Voldemort," the Boy-Who-Lived said heavily, causing the others to flinch, as if they expected horrible repercussions from saying his name. "Quirrell is working for Voldemort."

Eyes bulged. Mouths dropped open. Utensils clattered nosily to the table.

"What."

Such was the simultaneous reply of all three others in the room (house-elves aside), given the gravity of what he'd said. To imply that the most feared wizard of the last generation was still around in some way, and still had followers, was not something any wished to think about. Not after the war which had decimated families, turned old acquaintances against one another, led to uprisings, deaths, and paranoia. The war which had turned the name of Voldemort from a silly French affectation to the bogeyman of Magical Britain.

"Potter, how exactly did you come to that conclusion?" Hillard asked, looking at the first year intently.

"Yea mate, I thought you killed him—"

"—by bouncing back his Killing Curse somehow—"

"—and that's why you're the Boy-Who-Lived," the Weasley Twins added, frowning as they tried to wrap their heads around this piece of information. They'd been told for years that You-Know-Who was dead, that his reign of terror had been brought to an end by the boy in front of them, but the Boy-Who-Lived was saying otherwise?

"Hagrid told me something – that he didn't have enough human in him to die. For good anyway," Harry explained, closing his eyes as he shook. "And if the Philosopher's Stone can grant immortality, turn back death itself…"

"…you're saying he wants the Stone to come back to life?" Hillard surmised, aghast at the mental images that this train of thought brought to mind. A vision of the greatest of all Dark Wizards on a rampage through Hogwarts, with students, teachers, and all hit by curses. Of a young, powerful You-Know-Who, healed of any wounds he may have taken, fighting alongside Professor Quirrell against the old and questionably sane Professor Dumbledore, who was no longer in his prime and had not personally fought a duel in many years. "Merlin, that's…Merlin…"

"We need—"

"—to tell Dumbledore," the twins said, uncharacteristically grim. "If You-Know-Who might be alive…"

"…I don't think that's going to work," Harry said softly, shaking his head. "He's the one who had the Stone brought to Hogwarts as bait for a trap. He probably already knows."

"Or he could just suspect Quirrell," Hillard noted. "And the easiest way to test his loyalties would be to put him in a position where he could take the Stone, or at least to let him think the Stone is within his grasp. Still, you're probably right that telling him wouldn't do any good, since he can't do anything unless it's too late. I assume Quirrell was involved in protecting the Stone, since he was the Defense Professor?"

Harry nodded.

"Hm, then he would likely know what the other protections are, or at least be able to make an educated guess based on who made them. I don't like judging people by their Houses normally, but he was a Ravenclaw – and a brilliant one, at that," Hillard commented, not liking the conclusion he was coming to. "The only thing he might not be able to break through is whatever Dumbledore put up, and if You-Know-Who is really around, that might not be such an obstacle. You're sure about this, Potter?"

"…it's the only thing that makes sense," the Boy-Who-Lived replied, a grimace on his face. "There's no one who wants him dead more than I do, since if he's not, then all the people who died for me did so in vain. But I'm not blind. Quirrell wouldn't go after the Stone on his own. That means either Voldemort is around, or there's someone worse who can back him against Dumbledore."

"Logic is a terrifying thing sometimes," Hillard said to no one in particular. "Unfortunately. And of course, should Dumbledore happen to be away from the castle, there will be no deterrent to the Stone being stolen. Something which might happen during the Christmas Holidays or during exam revision period, since teachers are known to be in and out then, and Dumbledore does have Ministry business around that time. Even if he was in his prime, he can't be in two places at once. So…ideas, gentlemen?"

"Well, Sokaris said, we could…steal it first?" Harry brought up. The words sounded almost absurd now that he said them aloud himself, but the others didn't dismiss the idea. "Make sure that even if he got past the defenses, there would be nothing left for him to take?"

"A valid approach, except if we are caught by someone," the prefect answered him, frowning. "While I enjoy a prank as much as anyone else, this is something else entirely. Frankly, I'm not sure we're up to it – at the very least, we'd need a way to make sure we know where everyone is at all times. The last thing we need is to be caught going in or out of the corridor."

"Ah…we may have—"

"—something that could help with that," the Weasleys admitted, looking a bit shifty-eyed as they came under Hillard's scrutiny. After all, the prefect had been after them for a while, and had no doubt wondered how it was they managed to avoid being seen except when they wanted to be. Still, if they were going to be doing something more serious than pranking – as an attempt to steal the Stone would be by any measure – the Society could use every advantage it could get.

"…I had suspected as much, since no one has ever caught you out after hours after first year," Hillard said shrewdly, grunting at their statement. "Whatever you can tell you the location and identify of others around you, I assume – in a radius greater than the maximum range of Homenum Revelio."

"…he knows us too well, brother of mine!"

"How will we ever get away with another prank, brother of mine?!"

"That's a topic for another day," Hillard answered, shutting down their antics. "We have the issue of the Stone to worry about."

"…should we find somewhere else to talk about this?" Harry asked, feeling a bit worried as he noticed the House-Elves moving about the kitchens, as they prepared a post-Quidditch feast for the inhabitants of the castle. "I mean…"

"House Elves aren't anything to worry about, Harry," Fred said, dismissing his concerns. "As long as we're not being disloyal to Hogwarts, at any rate."

"A little pranking never hurt anyone," George added. "And even if we go through with this, we're doing it to protect Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore is unlikely to use them as informers anyway," Hillard noted softly, looking over the mass of cooks. "I know you're trying to be careful, but most wizards just think of House Elves as servants and housekeepers, and to be fair, that's usually what they are. Even so, finding another spot might not be a bad idea, even if it's nice to have food when we want and instant transport back to our dorms. After all, we can't exactly duel here, or practice too many of our other skills."

And that was a decent point. Even if house elves informing the teachers of what they plotted wasn't a concern – and Harry wasn't as confident about that as the other members of the Society, dueling wouldn't work here – not when there was a chance of injuring some of the house-elves or Hogwarts furniture. They'd have to talk to Professor Flitwick instead, or just find somewhere else.

"It's too bad you don't know the location of the Chamber of Secrets, eh, Heir of Slytherin?" Fred joked, eying Harry speculatively. "I bet that would be a brilliant place to practice."

"No, I – no, I don't," Harry replied, taken off guard by the sudden question.

"Really?" George remarked. "I think he's holding out on us, don't you think, brother of mine? After all, he's the Heir – must be a seriously evil wizard, right?"

"Right you are, brother of mine. Why, I'm sure his reign will be great and terrible as the Dark Lord Harry!"

But the Boy-Who-Lived just made a face.

"…even if I was going to turn evil – which I'm not – that's would be a stupid name."

"He has a point there," Hillard commented wryly. "It doesn't sound…foreign enough. Maybe the Dark Lord Troyar Repth, which sounds suspicious and foreign. Beats the pants off of 'Try Trap Hero', another anagram of Harry Potter."

Even Harry had to smile weakly at that.

"If I was going to turn evil, I think I'd be more creative in choosing a name," the Boy Who Lived said to that line of thought. "Though no, I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is."

"Well, we can't practice in the Forbidden Forest—"

"Good ol' Hagrid is always chasing us away from there," George groused. "I'm sure he means well, but calling the Forbidden Forest makes me want to see what's inside—"

"—just not during a detention from Filch."

"Speaking of Hagrid," Hillard asked, as there was something that was bothering him. "How did you get him to tell you all of this? He's known to be loyal to Dumbledore, even if he is a little…simple."

"He knew my parents, I guess," Harry said, thinking back to everything Hagrid had said. "Though I don't think he's very good about keeping secrets in general."

Which was a good thing for them in that now they knew what was behind the corridor and how to get past "Fluffy", as the Cerberus was named, but also a bad thing, if someone else – perhaps Professor Quirrell or an associate – thought to ask as well.

"From what you've said, there are two reasons Dumbledore used him to move the Stone – first, if he's a half-giant, as many of us think he is, he'd be able to resist many common spells," Hillard commented, troubled. "And the second - to let any potential thieves know the Stone was at Hogwarts."

This deeply unsettled Harry. Dumbledore setting a trap for one of the teachers was one thing, but going as far as to dangle the Stone in front of anyone who knew the Stone had been in a certain vault in Gringotts (and how had they known that anyway?) was something else. If a Dark Wizard really did get into Hogwarts, did Dumbledore honestly think that the enemy would not do something like oh…release a troll into the castle…as a distraction, or worse?

"So…"

"….we're going to beat Quirrell to the punch then?" the Weasley Twins asked as one, clearly intrigued by the notion, even if they were somewhat intimidated as well. They were well-known pranksters, but pranks were one thing (and no one usually got seriously hurt in those) – setting themselves against a known Dark Wizard who did not care who got hurt for the sake of his plans was quite another.

"We have to," Harry said, clenching his fists tightly. "It's like with the troll – if we don't stop him, someone else will get hurt. And I…I won't let that happen. Not again."

His voice was quiet, but there was the coldness of iron in it.

He would not let someone else be hurt in his place, when it was his responsibility to stop the Dark Lord.

"If you don't want to come with me though…" the Boy-Who-Lived began.

"No," Hillard interjected. "None of that. If you are set on this, then we will join you. For we are the Stone Cutters. We stand together. We fight together. And if need be, we fall together."

"But…"

"Harrykins, you helped us when you didn't need to—"

"—so let us help you."

Harry was touched by this outpouring of support. Yes, they had made a pact that they would stand together as comrades and brothers-in-arms, but words were cheap in the wake of an exhilarating victory, when there were no threats left. In a way, that explained all the people who had praised him for being the Boy-Who-Lived, who all but worshipped him for ending the reign of "You-Know-Who" – and all of those who had then turned their backs when he was revealed to be a Parselmouth.

People were fickle. Their words meaning little, their actions far more.

"Thank you," was all he could say to these people – these Gryffindors, these Ravenclaws, who stood by him. Who had defended him against the stares of the crowds, and were willing to challenge "You-Know-Who" himself by his side.

He didn't deserve this kind of loyalty, but since he had it, he wasn't going to let them down.

"No need to thank us," Robert said gruffly. "You'd do the same for us. Already did, really. The way I see it, we're in your debt. But if we're doing this, we're doing this right. There's no possible way we could be ready by the Christmas Holidays, even if we devoted every waking moment to training ourselves. There's too much we don't know about the corridor's protections, how each of us fight, and any…special abilities we might be able to use. We'll have to aim for revision period."

"The prefect has a point there, brother of mine."

"And if we miss a Quidditch match, Captain Wood will kill us," the other Weasley mentioned, his lips twisting into a grimace as he remembered how the Gryffindor captain had blown his top after today's match. Not happy was…a mild way to put it. "As it is, we'll be practicing hard for the next match until Christmas, at least."

"I take it you two are staying at Hogwarts again this Christmas?" Hillard asked the Weasleys, receiving a nod in answer. "And what about you, Harry? Are you staying at Hogwarts or going home?"

"Staying!" Harry said, just a tad quickly, his eyes betraying his surprise that that was even a possibility. He had thought he'd have to spend Christmas with the Dursleys again, and they were hardly his favorite people in the world (to put it lightly).

"Good, then we'll have more time to practice," the prefect noted, looking at the three others in the room. "Let's be honest - beating the Troll was as much luck as anything else. Maybe if there were a few of us all using Stupefy together, or finding some other way to hurt it, that might have worked better, but thinking back…we're lucky we're not dead."

"…yeah," Harry said almost in a murmur, a cold shiver running down his spine. "You're probably right."

"And if Quirrell is a Dark Wizard, he's a foe on a completely other level – we saw him fight, we can't face him and win," Hillard added, recalling the exhibition match with Flitwick. "Not directly. Well, not a straight up duel. We might be able to catch him by surprise, but if he's here for the Stone, I doubt it. Our best chance is to get in, get it, and get out, preferably early on in the exam revision period, if Dumbledore is ever out of the castle."

"Why not before?" one of the twins asked.

"Do you want him to think we're Dark Wizards after the Stone?" Hillard asked dryly. "I know Harry here is a Parselmouth, but let's not add to people's suspicions, eh? For now, we should build up a sense of normality for all of us, which means doing things like attending Quidditch matches, being seen at dinner, and the other things. Unfortunately, since we're known to act as a group, people notice if we're missing – they certainly noticed that Harry was missing today, especially Greengrass and Parkinson."

"Popular with the ladies, are we, Harrykins?" George asked.

"Care to tell us your secrets?" Fred added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry just flushed beet red at the twins' insinuations.

"Fred, George, enough of that," Hillard quipped. He was the de facto leader of the Stone Cutters, if not the official one. "Anyway, you two have prior commitments to Quidditch, and I'm sure Captain Wood would have my hide as well as yours if I were to encourage you to skip. Harry, be careful. You know better than any of us that Slytherin will only cover your back as long as you seem to have their interests at heart."

The Boy-Who-Lived nodded. It was true, after all.

"Right then. So we'll all be going to the Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff game," Hillard continued. "Under the circumstances, I would prefer if you all cheered for Ravenclaw and our new Seeker, if you don't mind. Chang could probably use the extra confidence, especially going up against Diggory, who was probably the best Seeker at Hogwarts after Charlie Weasley."

"It will be—"

"—wee little Matou's—"

"—first game too, right? Can we—"

"—dress him up?"

Hillard sighed.

"If you can convince him. I'll not have one of my Ravenclaws harassed if he says no, you understand?"

"Perfectly," the Twins chorused, predatory smiles mirrored on their faces.

While Harry had been talking with Hillard and the Weasley Twins in the Kitchens, Shinji and Hermione had been doing their research in the great library of Hogwarts. They'd looked through a staggering amount of books, uncovering information on Dumbledore's past, Hogwarts, and of course, the alchemist named Nicolas Flamel, lauded creator of the Philosopher's Stone.

Though Shinji was struck by the muggle accounts that Flamel, a reseller of manuscripts, had come into possession of a mysterious tome from Egypt, which contained the recipe for the Philosopher's Stone instead of creating it independently, it was something Hermione Granger found which solidified the Hogwarts/Alchemy link in his mind.

Namely, she had discovered a tome that talked of Dumbledore's alchemical work with Nicolas Flamel, one of the three major things he was famous for.

That had been all Shinji needed to come to a come to his conclusion of what was hidden in the Forbidden Corridor – though it did make him wonder why Sokaris hadn't just told him, given that he was sure she already knew. After all, given her interest in Alchemy, he was certain she knew about the connection between Dumbledore and Flamel – and had at least strong suspicions about what that implied – but then she'd admitted to suspecting what was there.

He just didn't know how much she suspected and how much she truly knew, given that the Stone was something of a red flag.

And how did he feel, now that he too, suspected what was there?

It wouldn't do to become annoyed at Sokaris – she'd likely just disappear again, to wherever the 'Come and Go Room' was.

Besides, looked at from a certain point of view, he could see why she would not share everything she knew, given that he thought they both had a similar background. And, well, should anyone find out what he was looking into and grow curious, it would seem more than a little suspicious if all of his leads came from Sokaris herself.

He already wondered how she had seen Quirrell release a troll into the castle without the man noticing her, but hadn't asked, as he was sure she wouldn't tell him. Not unless it suited her goals, just as he only shared his knowledge of ofuda with Potter, rudimentary though it was, because it suited his.

Shinji was also curious if Sokaris had an ulterior motive in all this – if she was a metamorphmagus from the Centre for Alchemical Studies in Egypt, or was an associate of Flamel who had less than complete faith in Professor Dumbledore's ability to keep the stone safe, or who wanted it for herself. Then again, the fact that she seemed to genuinely struggle in Transfiguration hinted against that, since this was first year material, and if she were a metamorphmagus or an older witch using Polyjuice, her Transfiguration skills would likely be at the top of the class.

In many ways, she was a mystery, if an enjoyable one to try and decipher.

Though he would admit that time with Hermione Granger was enjoyable in a different sort of way, since she soaked in positive attention like a sponge.

Shinji had the impression that Granger was in truth a very lonely person, who had had few friends and didn't understand why. The type who obeyed the rules, listened to the teachers, did what she was supposed to – and didn't know why no one praised her for it, why other people thought she was a know-it-all when she was only trying to help, why she was bullied for trying to do the right thing.

The type who wasn't really good with people, who followed the rules not necessarily because it was what she was supposed to do, but because it meant those in authority would at least accept her. Based on a combination of her rant about Harry's Sorting on the first day they'd met as well as the ramblings, ravings, and sobs he had heard on the night Harry had been revealed to be a Parselmouth, Shinji knew Hermione longed for acceptance and recognition.

It was clear that left to her own devices, she would have joined Gryffindor, and had only come to Ravenclaw because she'd met Sokaris – who had accepted her for who and what she was – who she had considered a friend.

This was why the perceived betrayal of Sokaris aligning with the Stone Cutters – rulebreakers - had hurt Granger so badly, because she thought Sokaris was like her, and that her acceptance meant she was right to act as she did.

And now she didn't know.

That lack of certainty could be deadly, though Shinji himself had learned to accept it. Whether Sokaris was aligned with him and the rest of the Stone Cutters, or just using them for her own ends, such was her business. As long as each of them benefited from it, Shinji didn't really mind – it wasn't as if his own relationship with Potter – or now with Granger – was that different anyway.

Speaking of which…

He studied the brown-haired girl as she read a rather thick tome, lips pressed together in concentration. She'd helped him today – and not an inconsiderable amount, either – as they sifted through the many tomes in the library, looking for useful data. Not for the first time, he wished a proper filing system had been introduced – a card catalogue at least, but that was neither here nor there.

What was on his mind was how he could thank her for the help. While the simplest and most obvious way was to show her the path to the Kitchens, so that she could find Sokaris and talk to the elusive purple-haired girl, he didn't think that would be a good idea, not without talking to the rest of the Society. Given how fickle she could be, and how their deeds might involve pranks, or worse, he didn't want to put the others at risk – and he doubted Sokaris would appreciate it if he simply brought the girl over to her.

He'd give her something, if he could, but since he wasn't about to share his knowledge of ofuda, didn't have any money to buy something, as Matou Zouken hadn't left him with an allowance, and had no convenient stash of magical items and artifacts he could pilfer, he wasn't sure what to do.

In the end, he'd settled for simply telling her "thank you," saying that she had been a great help. When she asked how, he'd explained that he was trying to figure out was hidden in the Forbidden Corridor, and that based on the hints, he thought it might be the Philosopher's Stone, though she thought he was being silly, since obviously Flamel, like any rational person, would not let that artifact out of his sight or control.

Shinji didn't really have it in him to point out that most practitioners of witchcraft, from what he'd seen, were not very good at using common sense and had simply nodded. He'd also said that Sokaris had been curious if there were any connections between the topics mentioned, and that the work done today would help her, though Hermione's smile had faltered just a little at that.

"…Matou. Do you…erm…like Sokaris?" Hermione asked, feeling embarrassed to even ask the question! But, well, she couldn't figure out a reason a young wizard would willingly give up watching a Quidditch game to do hard work in the library for a girl if not that. Plus well, she'd seen how those two acted, as if they shared some kind of secret, and…and….who knew what they got up to in those private rooms!Well, ok, even she knew that was a stretch, but still…

Granted, going to the library and looking something up for her was more mature approach than the boys she'd heard of – those who pulled a girl's hair, teased her about her looks or studying habits or who knew what, but, she felt…conflicted.

She didn't know why, but the thought of Matou spending time with Sokaris made her chest almost painfully tight. It wasn't as if she was jealous or anything. She didn't even know what that felt like, but…

"Hm?" Shinji vocalized, not quite understanding what she was getting it.

"You know…" the bushy brunette said, not quite meeting his eyes. "Do you like…spending time with her?"

They did seem to spend much time together, partnering up for Potions, disappearing at odd times – coming back together late at night once, with Sokaris refusing to answer too many questions. Not that she ever had but…

"I like spending time with you too," Shinji said diplomatically. He didn't know exactly what she meant, but he got the sense that if he just said yes or no, things would end badly. So…surely it couldn't hurt to say he enjoyed spending time with the person who was asking?

"I-I see," Hermione stammered, as she looked down and blushed, not having expected that response. No boy had ever said he enjoyed spending time with her before. They'd all complained about her being a know-it-all, or worse, but he'd happily looked things up with her all day.

She…she didn't know what to do in a situation like this, had never expected it. He was a rule-breaker…a…a…prankster, and…

A traitorous part of her mind told her the setup was almost like Romeo and Juliet. Two people, who seemed almost destined to hate one another, but who…

No. No. No. No.

It couldn't be. She couldn't…like him. That would be wrong. She couldn't like someone like that…could she?

The rest of the day was spent in silence, as they simply studied together more or less companionably, each unsure of what to say to the other.

In the coming days, Shinji learned from Hillard – and through the letters he exchanged with Harry – what the Boy-Who-Lived had discovered. In hindsight, he should have figured that Potter would be involved with this mess somehow, or that Sokaris would have consulted him, instead of just going to the library, but he hadn't thought it would be a good idea to bother him.

If he'd known that Harry wasn't going to be at the game in advance, he could have worked on his relationship with the boy, but he supposed that what had happened instead had been revealing in its own right, giving him two pieces of useful information.

Sokaris had proposed the theft of the Philosopher's Stone, allegedly to stop Quirrell from getting it first.

…and Voldemort might not be dead.

Somehow, neither of these were too much of a surprise, as he had long suspected that Sokaris had her own designs on whatever lay in the Forbidden Corridor, given her area of interest. Originally, he'd just been thankful for the information that Quirrell had been responsible for the Troll Incident, giving him a target for his ire, but seeing how she'd been able to get close to Potter and manipulate him into helping her had been much more telling.

Not that her actions changed what he was planning or who he sided with – Quirrell's actions could have killed him, while Sokaris had been reliable enough as an ally of sorts to date. And since he himself didn't have any use for the Philosopher's Stone (as the last thing he needed was an immortal Matou Zouken), she was welcome to whatever she wanted from it.

Besides, given the circumstances, he would have likely proposed exactly the same thing, since Sokaris' reasoning had been sound. As students, going up against a skilled practitioner of witchcraft would be foolhardy at best, suicidal at worst.

Well, Harry might survive, as the exact circumstances that had led to him becoming the Boy-Who-Lived were yet unknown. So far, Shinji was going off of the assumption that either there was something inherent to Harry that was anathema to Voldemort, or perhaps Dark Wizards in general, or that perhaps Harry's parents had used something like formalcraft, using their sacrifice to power a ritual of protection or magical resistance that stopped the Killing Curse.

'…though I don't think I'll mention that to Harry. He has enough pressure on him now, and I am not sure that was what happened.'

It did make a certain sort of sense though, as, at its highest levels battles of thaumaturgy were not about a mere struggle of power, but about a duel of concepts, where the more complete conceptual framework would win out.

Or so he'd read anyway – having never participated in such a thing before, Shinji had no idea if it was true, just that the conceptual model of formalcraft, and the sacrifice required to compensate for lack of power, could very well empower rituals greater than what a single-action spell could accomplish.

In the past days, he'd had to go to a Quidditch match for the first time – the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff game, as the other Stone Cutters had badgered him into going. The Weasley twins had even tried to talk Shinji into wearing a great eagle costume – and then a living eagle hat that would flap its wings and cry out whenever Ravenclaw scored, along with coloring his robes blue and bronze for the day.

Both attempts at persuasion had failed.

Given his last experience with the Twins and transfigured things, he had been less than enthusiastic about the prospect, and eventually they'd eased off, sensing his discomfort. He had ended up going, and had even enjoyed seeing the players flit about on their brooms, though the size of the crowd unnerved him – as did the enthusiasm of some of the people in the audience, who had colored their robes – and skin – blue and bronze as they waved banners about in support of the team.

At first, he had been a bit confused, but Hermione Granger had plopped down next to him, explaining the rules of the game as she knew them, pointing out the positions, players, and incidents she'd read in Quidditch Through the Ages. It was nice to have someone tell him these things, since he didn't actually know anything about the game. He didn't know why Hermione had decided to take it upon herself to keep him company, since he didn't think she liked Quidditch herself, but well, it was better than having to ask someone else what was going on and thus look foolish.

…and this mattered because referees who people thought foolish sometimes vanished and turned up months later in the Sahara, though personally Shinji was not convinced that that wasn't because the referee had made a call that cost someone a good deal of money.

Still, even if appearances weren't everything, they were still something.

In any case, Ravenclaw ended up winning, with their new Seeker, fellow Asian Cho Chang beating a flustered Cedric Diggory, Seeker of Hufflepuff, to the Golden Snitch (which, as Hermione informed him, used to be a bird called the Golden Snidget, with the 150 points coming from the 150 Galleons a former Chief of the Wizard's Council – the equivalent of the Ministry at the time – had offered to the player who could catch it. The practice of using live birds had been discontinued when the Snidget had almost been rendered extinct due to sporting events). Apparently, the Hufflepuffs had been overconfident, as they thought that a new Seeker with only a month or two of training, and only a second year at that, would stand no chance against a seasoned veteran.

But…they were wrong.

Cho Chang, being nimbler and lighter, had outsped the heaver-set Diggory, whose larger frame had the unfortunate result of generating more air resistance and slightly higher moments of inertia. Given brooms of equivalent performance, and of course, Diggory's dismissal of the Ravenclaw Seeker as a threat, the result was obvious.

Ravenclaw had won a commanding victory, with the final score coming in at 180 to 60.

Robert Hillard had made it a point to present a bouquet of long-stemmed blue roses to the Seeker who had made the victory possible, commending her performance as well as her beauty.

This display earned a shy smile and a deep blush from the girl – which even Shinji found fairly attractive—whereupon Penelope Clearwater, his fellow fifth-year Prefect, had badgered her fellow prefect, saying he really shouldn't do things that would be misinterpreted, and besides, the girl was just twelve years old.

Hillard had proceeded to grouse that some people just didn't have a proper appreciation of the noble sport of Quidditch, or how significant the victory was. George and Fred Weasley, however, just glared at the back of his head, feeling a little miffed that he had something to cheer for – and that their team most certainly didn't. But well, if Ravenclaw could beat Slytherin, that would be fine too. They'd be able to tell Flint he'd been beaten by a girl.

There had been a party in the normally sober and hard-working House of Knowledge that night, with finger foods, butterbeer, and other such going around, and many people cheering. In fact, Professor Flitwick had popped in at one point to toast both the Ravenclaw Team, as well as the valor of their prefect – and Matou Shinji – in dealing with the Troll. Truly, it was the beginning of a fine year, and he was very, very proud of them.

Shinji had never known anything like it – to feel like he was a part of a much greater whole – to be cheered, applauded by his peers.

In some ways, it was intoxicating.

When the party broke that night, Shinji had returned to the hallway where the study rooms were, and was less than surprised to find Sokaris waiting there, leaning against the wall.

"You are a difficult person to find, Sokaris," he commented, feeling slightly buzzed from the butterbeer. "Especially when people are looking for you."

"What would be the point otherwise?" she replied wryly, leading him to think she did find her disappearances to be something of a game. "If I were always available, I would be taken for granted."

And perhaps it was – one could consider many things such, really.

"You do have a point," Shinji conceded, with a nod. "But onto business."

"Naturally," Sokaris said quietly, her face cold and impassive. "You have concerns for the Philosopher's Stone, I assume."

"You knew," he asserted, meeting her gaze.

"I suspected," she replied, her purple eyes betraying nothing.

"And what you told Potter – that we should steal it before Quirrell does?"

"Is that not the logical approach?" Sokaris asked, a trace of a very slight smile on her face. "Rather than confronting the one they call He-Who-Must-Be-Named directly?"

"…I suppose it is," Shinji admitted, closing his eyes. "But you have an interest in this, don't you?"

"Not a difficult deduction, when I have admitted such," the purple-haired girl noted, simply. "Or when I was the one who brought you the knowledge of Quirrell's doings."

"Why then?" Shinji questioned, asking the obvious question. "What is your interest in the Stone? And the Stone Cutters?"

"The Philosopher's Stone must not be allowed to be stolen by a practitioner of witchcraft who does not understand its powers – or to be destroyed," the self-admitted alchemist spoke, her voice more intense than Shinji had ever heard it. "Using it as bait in a trap is reprehensible at best. Allowing its destruction or theft by another party is unforgivable."

For a brief, brief moment, he could feel something like the killing intent of Aozaki Touko, something coiled, controlled, powerful. Something that was like the scorching winds of the desert, sand that scraped and tore apart all in its path.

And then it was gone, as Shinji swallowed. That kind of outrage…had to be genuine.

"You don't have just an interest in Renkinjutsu, do you?"

"Your conclusion may be correct," Sokaris said as she turned to go – but stopped, hesitating. "Matou Shinji, a word."

"Yes?" Shinji asked, curious as to what she might want.

"While the concept of a holiday gift is foreign to me, I believe it is customary to give acquaintances an item or knowledge, yes?"

Shinji nodded cautiously.

"That is usually what Christmas means in the West," he acknowledged, frowning. "You don't know it?"

"I was raised in a more austere environment, where such material traditions did not exist," the girl admitted. "As such, I do not have much to offer, aside from a secret."

"A secret?"

"A Room that contains a great many artifacts, many of which have been lost to time and have no known owner," she answered, nodding at the expression of interest that stole across his face at her words. "I believe it is called the Room of Hidden Things."

"…and where might this room be?" Shinji asked. He wasn't about to ask how she knew of it – that part was likely unimportant.

"This room is located on the Seventh Floor of the castle, in the left corridor. The entrance is directly opposite from a tapestry depicting an attempt to teach trolls…ballet, but is hidden."

"And how do you reveal it?"

"One must walk past the entrance three times, thinking of a place where things can be hidden, and the Room will be called," Sokaris concluded. "Consider the contents a gift, Matou Shinji."

With that she turned and disappeared into her room, leaving Shinji rather thoughtful…and more than a little sheepish that he hadn't thought of what to get anyone for Christmas yet.

Obviously, he would have to check out this grand sounding Room soon. After all, there was no harm in regifting…was there?

A/N: In response to the reviewer who complained about the "Merlin" thing, the only person who uses that word extensively in this story and has only known about the magical world for a few months is Harry himself – which is something he has been doing deliberately after his Sorting into Slytherin. Under other circumstances, it would indeed take much longer for him to acculturate to the Wizarding World, but in the house of the ambitious and cunning, where one is expected to know the culture, it is more difficult to get by while using Muggle manerisms.