Chapter 28: Trouble is Brewing

After the strangeness of Meissa's magic behaving oddly for Transfiguration, Meissa and Daphne managed to breeze through the rest of their exams relatively easily. Meissa was confident about her Potion scores - she was extremely used to her godfather's antics by this point and couldn't help but be amused by the other students' complaint that his breathing down their neck had caused them to forget how to make the Forgetfulness potion.

The whole thing had Meissa snickering like crazy for hours after that particular exam.

Daphne didn't share Meissa's amusement about that at all - not since she had struggled with the last few steps needed to complete the potion. She was positive that the potion was a few degrees off where it should've ended at. Despite Meissa's attempt to reassure her she was positive that she had gotten a Dreadful at least.

Despite Meissa's amusement and Daphne's dismay, they've kept an eye over the Gryffindors, almost positive that the trio would end up getting into some kind of mischief even when they should be focusing on the exams. That was how Meissa noticed that Harry had an expression she was accustomed to seeing on her own face. The bespectacled boy has had a drawn pinched face for quite some time - since before the beginning of the exams if she had to think about it. But none of them mentioned any possible reason for why Harry would be suffering from what seemed like a migraine and Meissa did not want to seem like a nosey person so she left the matter alone.

At least, she would've if Harry hasn't messaged her one night, just before their potions finals, asking if she knew any remedies to help him sleep through a nightmare.

She told him that there was a potion - a Dreamless Sleep Draught - that would prevent a person from having nightmares or dreams in general. She also mentioned that for some people it can be addicting depending on their body's deposition. She cautioned against making the potion - stating that it's a potion that if brewed incorrectly could have devastating impacts on the drinker. When she didn't get any response she had cautiously decided to ask if there was something bothering him.

With some free time to herself she pulls out her journal that contained the conversation from the night before, reading through it with fresh eyes.

~MJB~

HP: My head's been hurting since the forest

MB: Since you encountered that thing?

HP: Yes.

Meissa looked at Harry's chicken scratch handwriting - idly wondering to herself if he knew how to write with a quill. It looked worse in daylight than it had by wand light.

HP: Have you heard of anything like that?

MB: You haven't really described it much to me.

HP: Short version?

MB: If you're comfortable with that.

From there Harry described what he had experienced in the presence of the creature that had spooked her cousin. Harry's rescue by a centaur. And he even went on to mention that his scar has been hurting since then.

She had gotten curious about it since it's rumored that he got his scar the night Voldemort fell.

MB: Do you know what caused your scar?

HP: They've said that Voldemort did it.

MB: But you don't know how?

HP: Not personally. I was only a baby when it happened.

MB: Did they ever tell you when it happened?

HP: No?

MB: No one ever told you about the night the war ended?

HP: Wait, you mean when my parents were killed?

Meissa grimaced at the blunt wording.

MB: Yes. For lack of better wordings.

HP: I think I only know the barebones of that night. And it was Hagrid who told me.

MB: I don't know if he's a reliable source for what happened but then again, no one really knows.

HP: What do you mean?

MB: Think about it Harry. Voldemort shows up at your family's home right? He makes it a point to kill everyone in the building just to prove he can.

HP: Okay? Go on?

MB: So, how does anyone know what happened? I mean, if he kills everyone then how does anyone know what happened?

HP: What are you saying? That the whole thing is a fiction?

MB: Maybe it is. We wouldn't really know. Or maybe someone thought of something and imagined it to be true.

HP: So when they mention it to someone else they don't say it's a theory, they say it as a fact.

Meissa nods her head slightly as she wrote, glad that he was following her line of thoughts.

HP: So what really happened if not that?

MB: I don't know, Potter. But whatever happened it probably caused your scar. Which - by the way - is probably a cursed scar.

HP: Cursed scar?

MB: No one mentioned that to you either?!

HP: No. Well, Hagrid said something about my scar was a result of a powerful evil curse touching me. What does it mean?

MB: I'll get you a book about it. But the basic gist is that a scar, caused by a curse, will always be sensitive to Dark magic and the caster. And Harry - a curse is never really evil. It's the intent behind it that determines if the spell was Dark or Light.

HP: So what you're saying is I'll always be able to sense Voldemort? And what do you mean a curse is never really evil? I thought that a Dark curse is evil because it's Dark Magic?

MB: That's generally the gist of it all. And that's a long topic that might be better off face to face.

HP: Okay. I have no idea if I should be reassured by this or not. I have to deal with my scar hurting forever?

MB: I guess you could think about it as an early warning system?

HP: That's one way to think about it.

MB: Potter, it's past midnight. Do you think you can sleep tonight or do you want to head to the Hospital Wing and hope for a vial?

HP: I think I can sleep now. My scar has stopped hurting.

MB: Okay. Good night Potter. Best of luck for the Potions final.

HP: Thanks, and you too Meissa.

~MJB~

Thinking back to the conversation from the night before, Meissa can conclude that Harry's scar is the cause for his pinched expression lately. And she can rationalize that the scar is the product of Voldemort's attempt to cast a curse at Harry. She wasn't entirely sure if that curse was the killing curse - how is it possible for a fifteen months old toddler to do something that wasn't possible for a fully grown adult?

That question bothered her the most. Since logically it shouldn't be possible. Yet it apparently happened.

So, what could possibly stop a killing curse?

She imagined that if one stopped the curse from hitting then one could survive it - but really that was just blocking it. Harry's scar suggest that the curse - killing or otherwise - managed to make contact with his skin at the very least.

Personally, she doubted that it was the killing curse that hit him - it doesn't make sense. But if she had to believe it then she'd need to do some research to determine what would prevent a killing curse from succeeding. She could not honestly claim to know every branch - there could be something that would protect a person enough to keep them from dying.

But onto another line of thought - if Harry's scar is hurting then would that mean someone is casting Dark Magic close enough for him to sense it? She doubted that one, wouldn't there be a ward that would alert the Headmaster to Dark Magic being cast within the castle ground?

She'll have to revisit that line of thought later.

A second possibility as to why Harry's scar would hurt is the curse responding to the presence of the fallen Dark Lord. That one she couldn't really explain logically in her mind. Voldemort had been gone for decade already - what were the chances of him actually being alive when everyone has been celebrating his defeat? Somehow she didn't think it was possible for him to allow Magical Britain to believe he had been defeated by a fifteen months old toddler. If he had been alive he would have surfaced already to rid himself of the rumors/news of his defeat.

Yet, if he was dead then why would Harry's scar hurt? Unless it was someone else who cast the curse at Harry.

Her head was starting hurt at this point - there was too many questions and possibilities to consider.

"Meissa!" she suddenly heard Daphne's call, forcing her to abandon her theories for the time being.

Looking up she found the blonde walking towards her. "Yes?"

"I just saw our 'favorite' Gryffindors lying about under a tree, do you want to join them?"

"Depends - is Ron being a git?"

"I thought that a chronic condition," Daphne snarked, getting an instant grin from the raven haired girl.

Meissa got up and without another word they left to join the Gryffindors. They were arriving just as Hermione was commenting something to Harry.

"You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Meissa was one part amused by Hermione's obsession about grades and one part worried by the fact that Harry was rubbing at his forehead - the exact spot where his scar rested.

"You okay Potter?" she inquired as they made their presence known to the Gryffindors - to the immediate disgust of Ron.

"No! I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "I know that you said it'll hurt in the presence of Dark Magic and the one who gave me the scar! But it doesn't make sense!"

"What part doesn't make sense?" Daphne questioned.

"I bet it's because the snakes are around," Ron sneered at them, getting an instant eye roll from the exasperated girls.

"Careful, Weasley, you're starting to look like my cousin," Meissa remarked drily, getting an instant horrified look from the red head. She then focused on Harry. "I don't see anyone casting Dark Magic - I don't sense any either. So that means it's the second option."

"How?!" Harry exclaimed, "How can he be here?!"

"I don't think he has to be right beside you for you to sense him," Meissa comments.

"So it's a proximity warning?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Maybe." Meissa gave a casual shrug. "I'm not the one with the scar and I don't really know anyone with a cursed scar so I cannot make a comparison."

"Harry, relax," Ron spoke up, "There's no way You-Know-Who can get to the stone -," Meissa glared at him, she thought it was too risky to speak so openly about the Philosopher's stone but he ignored her, "- as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape -," this one got another glare but this time from both Slytherins, "-found out how to get past Fluffy." Meissa crossed her arms, thinking. There was something bugging her. "He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

Harry had a look on his face that wasn't too far off from the expression Meissa was currently wearing. Both had a look of deep concentration that had Hermione and Daphne watching them with curiosity.

Harry was looking up at the skies and was the only one who saw an owl flutter towards the school with a note clamped in its mouth.

Meissa was thinking about Fluffy and Hagrid. She knows that the Groundskeeper had a tongue looser than a slippery bar of soap and thought that there was a possibility of him spilling the secret of how to get past the Cerberus. But she couldn't think of when a person would get the chance to pry it from him.

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet, startling everyone from their thoughts - everyone except Ron. He looked like he was close to falling asleep on the grass.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. Something that alarmed everyone. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now." He was already half running - half walking to the Hut.

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

Meissa's eyes opened as she remembered her suspicions the day they had discovered the dragon egg during the Easter holidays. How could she have been so stupid, to forget about that! She looked at Daphne who was confused and not aware of the story of how Hagrid had gotten the egg in the first place.

"What's going on?" Daphne asked in confusion. She didn't get an answer from her friend - not immediately anyway. Instead the raven haired girl grabbed her hand and pulled her after the trio, shocking the blonde for the initiated contact.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. His smile faltering only slightly at the sight of the Slytherin girls before firming once more - they had not done anything to deserve his mistrust, yet. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, but Harry cut him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

Meissa frowned, her shoulders tense as his words confirmed what Harry and her had suspected.

He saw the three of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas. "What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks..." Meissa made a face as she realized that the stranger - it must've been whoever wanted the Stone - had made Hagrid's already loose tongue even looser. "Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..."

"And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep -"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. Daphne was just as horrified, how could he have been so reckless! Meissa closed her eyes in dismay, that meant the Stone had been at risk since Easter holidays.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

The group had left, rushing for the castle. Meissa was muttering darkly as she tried to come up with an idea of who would be after the stone. Her best suspect was Quirrell, whom - according to Harry - had given up the 'ghost' so to speak. There was also the fact that there was something about him that set her on edge.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry declared once they've arrived in the entrance hall. "Hagrid told how to get past Fluffy and… whoever was under that cloak must've been the same one from the forest."

"You're thinking that it was Voldemort?" Daphne asked - with only the slightest of hesitation over the name.

"Yes," he looks grimly at the four of them. "I don't know if Professor Dumbledore will believe us but we have to try. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

"Who's Firenze?" the Slytherins asked in confusion.

Harry had started walking, "He's a centaur, he saved me in the Forbidden Forest."

"Oh!" Meissa recalled the conversation from the night before. "He's the one you spoke of last night!"

"Right."

Meissa looked at Daphne, thinking about the information they had and that maybe they should involve a Professor. But who?

The two of them followed the Gryffindors for some time, occasionally suggesting ideas as to where Dumbledore's office may be. Meissa was starting to think that it was idiotic that no one thought to share the location of the Headmaster's office. This school doesn't really seem to encourage information sharing in her opinion.

"We'll just have to-," Harry began but a voice suddenly rang across the hall, cutting him off.

"What are you doing inside?" It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books. Wordlessly, Meissa moved forward and halved her load, getting an odd look from everyone present but a thanks from the Scottish woman.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," Hermione shared, straightening her back as if she needed to reconfirm the idea in her head.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" McGonagall repeated, her eyebrow arching at this. "Why?"

"We have a concern," Meissa spoke up before Harry could - she saw an emotion flicker across his face and had a feeling she wasn't going to like whatever he was going to say. "We felt it was best to bring it up with him since it concerned the school."

Professor McGonagall studied Meissa for a long moment. "If it concerns the school as you say, then, as Deputy Headmistress, I can listen to any concern you may have about the school."

"We sort of wanted to speak with Professor Dumbledore," Ron foolishly said, getting a stern look from the Scottish woman.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"Flew?" Meissa repeated incredibly. "To London from Scotland? Why didn't he just floo or apparate?" Daphne instantly saw the points she was making - why would he fly when he could've gotten there faster using other means?

McGonagall frowned at this, it was like she hadn't considered the oddity of this prior to Meissa questioning this.

Harry, on the other hand, was frantic over Dumbledore's absence. "He's gone? Now?"

McGonagall looked at him sternly, "Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -."

Meissa looked over at Daphne and whispered, "Who apparently can't floo or apparate anywhere." Daphne rolled her eyes and nudged the other girl to behave.

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Considering," Meissa spoke up drily, "the fact he moved a very important artifact from Gringotts to Hogwarts, I would hazard a guess and say it's very important to him." McGonagall frowned at her, suspicious as to what she was alluding to. "I'm sure that Flamel wouldn't be pleased to know that his prized possession has gone missing under Professor Dumbledore's watch."

The Scottish woman looked at her in shock, the books she was carrying tumbling out of her arms. "How do you know -?" she spluttered.

"How we know isn't important," Meissa states firmly, "The fact is, we have reason to believe that someone will steal the stone. And if I had to bet money I would say that Professor Dumbledore was removed from play by whoever sent him that owl. I actually think that the letter must've been had a compulsion spell on it because I can't even begin to explain why he would fly - on a broomstick - to London when there's faster methods of travel and would be easier on one's rump."

Daphne shook her head at Meissa at that last bit but couldn't disagree with the raven haired girl about the whole statement.

Professor McGonagall looked at them with a mixture of shock and suspicion - she wanted to demand how they had gotten their information but what Meissa Black said worried her, even if she didn't show it.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"Seven lines of defense provided by Hagrid, you, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor Quirrell and Professor Dumbledore," Meissa rambled off easily and quickly before McGonagall could get in a word. "Each line has something that relates back to your topic with Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore's contributions being the exceptions."

Hermione hissed at Meissa to stop before they got them in trouble.

"How-."

"I'm naturally paranoid," Meissa stated as she looked at the Scottish woman, her gaze even as she met the shocked and alarmed gaze. "Seven is the magical number and Professor Dumbledore is an old Wizard who place a lot of stock in magical theories so it wasn't too far-fetched to think that he would have seven lines of defense for a magical artifact highly sought after by a powerful Dark wizard. Now are you going to take us seriously?"

McGonagall looked at her for a long moment, her eyes searching for something in the raven haired girl before she looked at the other students gathered behind her. Harry was looking at Meissa with wide eyes - she couldn't quite place what was dancing in those green orbs. Hermione's gaze was bouncing between Harry, Meissa and McGonagall - her gaze searching them as she tried to discern what was going to happen next. Daphne had eyes only for Meissa, her expression that of fierce protectiveness and fondness for the raven haired girl. What troubled her was Ron Weasley's look of hatred and disgust for the two Slytherins.

"I want all of you to leave this to me. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

Meissa frowns as the Scottish woman gathered up the fallen books and wordlessly handed her stack back to the professor. It was not a promise to deal with the problem but it was better than nothing.

She looked at the Gryffindors to figure out what they were going to do and wasn't surprised that they didn't leave to head back out.

"It's tonight," Harry muttered, "They're going through the trapdoor tonight. They have everything they need and Professor Dumbledore's out of the way."

Meissa frowns and looked at Daphne, moving closer to whisper. "What are the chances of Professor Dumbledore being caught by a compulsion charm?"

"A powerful wizard like him?" Daphne muttered doubtfully.

"I thought so," Meissa sighed in annoyance.

"You're the one who suggested the idea before," the blonde points out.

"I needed her to think that something is up. And it's possible that Professor Dumbledore was temporarily snared by the spell before he broke it. But I can't think of why he would leave. Unless…" she frowns as she thought this new idea out.

"What?"

"What if he wanted to encourage the person to go through the trapdoor?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. But whatever the reason… it doesn't bear any good news."

They suddenly heard Hermione gasp.