Author's Note: 320 views since the last time I checked. Well, I honestly couldn't ask for anything more awesome than this. Wait, yes I can. Reviews! Please PM me or review my story, it's driving me nuts not knowing if you guys like it or not, or if you have something to say about it! XD Also, if anyone has a question about the fanfic, don't hesitate to ask. I check my account daily. I'm probably going to get halfway through the book soon. It all depends on how abbreviated I make the chapters. Anyways, enjoy Chapter Eight!
"So we can't find Nicholas Flamel anywhere?" Harry said desperately, but Ron and Hermione shook their heads.
"He's nowhere in any of these books," Hermione said hopelessly. "He isn't even in The Unabridged Encyclopedia of Modern Magic Marvels, and that's got nearly every witch or wizard I've ever heard of in there."
Harry hung his head dejectedly. Hagrid wasn't one to lie, so Flamel must be real. But why couldn't they find him anywhere?
Ron came over and patted his back. "It's all right, mate. We've looked everywhere we can, it's time to give it up." He picked up their large stack of books and handed them to the school librarian, Madame Pince.
"Wait a second…" Harry said slowly, watching Madame Pince scrutinize a seventh-year's permission slip to visit the Restricted Section. "Hermione, what's in the Restricted Section?"
Hermione froze. "No…you don't think…well, it certainly would need guarding…" She was annoying when she was vague, thought Harry.
"Hermione?"
She snapped out of it. "Um, Restricted Section, right. Well, it contains all of the Dark magic books and things like that, stuff Dumbledore deems unworthy of being put on the regular shelves where just anyone can pick them up. There are some really awful books in there. But, maybe, just maybe, this thing Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore want guarded is something Dark."
Harry shook his head. Dumbledore was the opposite of Dark. He would destroy Dark magic before hide it.
"Well…" Hermione began, but Ron interjected.
"Maybe he's in one of those genealogy books, the Restricted ones with tons of bias and prejudice and nasty spells written in them as countermeasures for relatives who taint their blood!"
Harry frowned. "Tainted blood?"
"Yeah, purebloods loathe Muggles, and any wizard with Muggle blood is filth to them."
"Well…maybe you're right. Maybe whatever Dumbledore wants guarded is only Dark if it's used improperly." Harry said.
Ron grinned, pleased with himself, and the three made up their minds: they were going to get into the Restricted section if they had to ask every teacher in the school.
However, this task proved daunting; Professor McGonagall had brought up the Restricted Section before, and had told them all that it was not possible for any first year to visit it. Flitwick had let slip the truth, that it only took a permission slip, but the headmaster had to approve as well.
"Harry, Dumbledore won't let us visit the section to uncover his own secrets," Ron complained one morning in the Great Hall. It was Christmas Eve, and everyone was excited for the holidays. Hermione was gone, off home to her parents.
Harry's shoulders sagged. "I know, but we should at least try." This was easier said than done. Harry attempted twice to ask Professor Quirrel, assuming his stutter made Harry's own nerves less noticeable, but before he could finish, Quirrel would be distracted by some commotion in the classroom.
That evening, Harry spent his time losing miserably to Ron in wizard's chess. As Harry's queen grappled with a pawn (failing miserably to his dismay), he decided to give up and go to bed. His mind was a flurry of thoughts about Nicholas Flamel.
"Wake up, Harry!" Harry bolted upright, startled awake by an elated Ron. A small pile of presents sat by Harry's bed.
"Hey, I've got presents!" Harry pointed, ecstatically. He tore open one from Hagrid (a carved flute) and one from the Dursleys (a fifty-pence piece) before opening a package from Mrs. Weasley: a lumpy green sweater.
As Harry pulled it on, Ron grew slightly pink, wearing his own sweater, a deep maroon. "I hate maroon, and she knows it…" Ron muttered, but then trailed off at the sight of Harry.
Harry's heart was pounding. His head floated above the ground, apparently of its own accord, but it in fact was still supported by his body. It was invisible, however, due to a strange cloak he had discovered in his last present from an anonymous giver.
Ron's jaw dropped. "That's an Invisibility Cloak! They're rare, them."
Harry covered himself entirely, and walked over to Ron's bed, grinning at his friend's wild glances around the room. "Boo!"
Ron fell over his bed, and as Harry pulled off the Cloak, they started laughing. "Harry!" Ron said suddenly. "The Restricted Section!"
Harry's heart leaped. "Of course!" he shouted. The two began talking in depth about the best time to visit, but the Weasley twins interrupted with some Christmas morning shenanigans with Percy's prefect badge.
That day passed by slowly, Harry's mind focused on nothing but visiting the Restricted Section. As night came at last, Harry disappeared under the cloak once everyone went to bed, and snuck out to the library. He opened the gate that blocked entry into the Restricted Section, and snuck over to the bookshelf.
"Flamel…Flamel…Nicholas Flamel…" Harry muttered, then pulled out a moldy old book at random, opening it expectantly.
The book screamed. Literally. A devilish face strained against the pages, and Harry immediately shut the book and stuffed it back on the shelf, running pell-mell away from the library. Who put a screaming book in the library? Harry thought furiously, but stopped suddenly. Footsteps were approaching rapidly, as were voices.
"Filch, if a student had been sneaking around the Restricted Section, they may have been searching for highly illegal incantations and curses, which could ensue havoc at Hogwarts," Harry heard a voice say, its greasy quality identifying it as Snape's.
Filch answered in his wheezy voice. "Right you are, Professor. I'll search the corridors."
Filch shuffled away, and Snape appeared to Harry's left, brushing by him without seeing him. Harry's heart pounded wildly, but he wasn't caught. He let out his breath when he no longer heard Snape, and entered a nearby classroom to catch his breath.
Little did he know that his breath would be taken away as soon as he entered the room.