Disclaimer: I don't own HP in any way or form.

AN-1: I am really fucking sorry for this huge delay, but I had a case of bad health for almost a month, and I also had continuous exams for the rest of the time—college sucks btw, but a life with no degree sucks even more.

AN-2: I have a P*T*R*N, where you can read upto Chapter 24 if you wish to. Just follow the link on the profile.

AN-3: Year is going to end by Chapter 25, so heads up, and a big thanks to everyone who has followed and favorited this fic over the last year and some. Thanks everyone!

"Where are we going, Professor?" he asked as they followed Quirrel through the barely illuminated corridors of Hogwarts, cold winds blowing in through the open windows. Behind them, he could still faintly hear the chatter of students exiting the Great Hall and the sound of Persephone's shoes hitting the ground alongside his, "...Don't we usually have our sessions in your classroom?"

"We do," he nodded ahead of them as they passed by the library, the large doors opening of their own accord at their presence, and Harry almost jumped as Mrs. Norris walked out of them. As if noticing his momentary surprise, Professor Quirell stopped and turned around, staring at them for a moment before his eyes flicked to the half-bald cat, "I had forgotten what a nuisance that animal can be…flippendo."

They watched with wide eyes as Mrs. Norris was suddenly launched into the air, her surprised yowl echoing in the corridor as she disappeared back into the library. A wave of his wand later, the doors closed with a quiet sound again, a faint blue line appearing behind them for a moment before it disappeared.

"There, that should do it," he smiled sharply, giving them a look before he turned around, "Never liked that damned beast anyways—never saw the point of having it and the squib around in this castle."

"Squib?" his sister echoed, slowing down for a moment, and Harry too blinked at the words. A squib was a rare occurrence in the magical world, a term given to a child born to one or two magicals…one who was magical, but yet unable to use it in any way or form. Of a hundred births, only about one to two were born with the disability, and they were mostly ostracised by the wider population—due to some ancient squib named Mariana who had tried to suck the magic of other witches and wizards around her. But to think there was a sq-oh it wa, "Filch is a squib?!"

"Oh, he is," came the amused yet disgusted voice of their professor, and Harry didn't have to look at his face to imagine the sneer that was no doubt present there. Quirell turned right sharply, pointing his wand at the black section of wall as he looked down at them, "Makes me wonder what the Headmaster has been thinking all this time. Keeping a squib of all things in a castle full of students and magical children—and that too one who regularly mentions torture and painful punishments to eleven-year-olds."

"That sounds…quite unprofessional and sort of wrong for a Headmaster to do," Persephone muttered, looking back at the Library, "Especially for one as highly regarded and respected as Professor Dumbledore."

"Respect and regard don't make one as wise as they are purported to be," came the response from Quirell as he chuckled, touching the rock in front of him and twisting his wand slowly. A white glow spiraled out of the tip, flowing over the stone wall until a shape of a door was formed by it, illuminating the hallway around them softly, "He has his secrets, skeletons and ghosts, just like a common wizard—and if you ask me, maybe a hundred times more given his age and experiences…but that is a topic for another time, we are here."

He walked into the glowing section of the wall, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Harry and Persephone followed. Unlike what he had expected, he didn't see any white when he entered. Instead, what he saw immediately was a room like any other in the castle, bare and dusty with chairs and tables all over it. The Professor stood at the center of the classroom, and Harry stopped in his spot, his right leg still in the air as he felt something in the air. Something angry and primal, making his hair stand on the end for a moment before the feeling in the atmosphere went away.

"Damn it," he snarled angrily, swiping his wand through the air, and Harry gasped as a dark red arc of destruction spewed forth from it, cutting through the furniture and stone with ease. As the sound of wood clattering to the ground echoed in the room, Quirell turned around and looked at them with a smile—which was completely at odds with the rage he had just seen, "It looks like your test…has been moved by the Headmaster. No worries, I'll think of something else to see your progress, my students. Impress me, prove yourselves to be worthy of my knowledge and skill, and you may find yourselves as my apprentices."

"Woah, that is wicked!"

Neville groaned out loud at Ron's voice, turning around to look at the shocked yet gleeful face of his roommate, lowering the cloak fully from his shoulders. Grimacing at his own carelessness, he sighed and walked to his bed, already knowing the onslaught of questions and thoughts that the Weasley was going to launch at him. Honestly, just how in the name of Merlin was he expected to know that Ron was going to be inside the room, and that too during the time of dinner!

"You have an invisibility cloak?!" the boy almost shouted, and Neville winced at the volume and the stupidity of the idiot he had revealed his secret to. Hurriedly applying a basic silencing charm over the door with a whisper, he glared at the ginger and folded his cloak quietly—thanking his luck that no one was below in the common room to hear the loudmouth's voice.

"First of all, learn to speak quietly!" he whispered furiously, glaring at the shorter boy as he sat down, his left hand clutching the fluid-like fabric of the cloak, as if afraid of it slipping away into the wind, "Secondly, why in the name of Merlin's balls are you in the dorms?! Especially when the food is outside!"

"Because Fred and George were going to prank someone at the dinner today," Ron rolled his eyes, stretching as he got off his bed, "and I don't need to be a genius to know that they will try to get me as well along with whoever they are targeting. So I just asked Matt to bring back something for me—and all it took was helping him against another second year with his chess match."

'Of course, that would somehow result in Ron finding out about my invisibility cloak,' he groaned mentally, somehow withholding the urge to use the curses his months at Hogwarts and his life as the grandson of Augusta Longbottom had taught him, 'Why can't my luck and life both be simple and good for once?!'

"So, when did you buy one? Or did your Grandmother give it to you? And why didn't you tell me th-"

"I didn't buy it, Ron," he interrupted, sighing heavily as he saw the expectant face of his somewhat-friend-somewhat-accomplice. He took a deep breath, remembering the way it had literally fallen upon his lap from that Christmas wrapping on the twenty-fifth, "Someone sent it to me on Christmas. It was an anonymous package, su-"

"Must be used to them by now," the ginger interrupted, muttering quietly as his eyes turned downwards, "You are Neville Longbottom! Everyone must send you tons of new presents and things."

"Can I continue?" Neville groaned, his irritation spiking to new levels at the jealousy displayed—after all, it wasn't as if he really even saw the presents. All of them were sold at one place or the other to make money, half of which went to the Saint Mungos and other smaller hospitals around the nation! Upon receiving a nod from Ron, he sighed and began once again, "So, there was no name or anything on it, and I couldn't recognise the handwriting on the note either. But since it had passed through the elves and the wards on our m-house, I reckoned it was safe to use. Ever since then, I have been wearing it whenever I want to sneak around in Hogwarts at night or between classes."

"Wicked!" he gasped, staring at the partially visible, rippling material with awe, "Wait! We can follow Snape with it, and the Potters too! See what they are up to and then catch them!"

"Snape almost caught me," Neville shook his head, remembering the heart-stopping moments he had spent just an inch or two away from the Potions Master. That night, when he had gotten back to the dorms and looked at himself in the mirror, he had been surprised by just how much he had been sweating, and how much pale he had gone, "And I followed the Potters a few days ago, but they were just going along with Professor Quirell for some test he had set up for them near the Library. After that, I followed them back to the Slytherin common room, but I had to stop midway due to the Hufflepuffs and other Slytherins walking through the corridors. However, they didn't talk about the stone or Flamel or Snape at any moment I was following them."

"Of course they didn't," Ron rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, "Snape talks to them when they are in the Potions room, or somewhere else in the dungeons. We just have to follow them at the right moment somehow and then catch them all together, that way no one will be able to doubt our words. Merlin's pants! This would be so easy if we had a way to look at where everyone was at any time in this castle!"

"I doubt such a thing exists," he shook his head, having some idea of the number of runes, enchantments, and the sheer knowledge of the castle it would take to create a functioning, all-monitoring map, "Besides, I still doubt they both have anything to do with the Philosophers Stone or Snape. It would be much smarter to take help from a senior, if Snape even needs help and if it is Snape in the first place."

"I say we go to Hagrid and ask about the Cerberus you told us about," Ron said after a few moments of silence, standing up and walking over to the pitcher of water kept by the windows, pouring himself a glass, "Charlie always said that he knows more about beasts than anyone else he had ever met. And given how Hagrid is always present in Hogwarts, since like forever, he definitely knows about that dog."

"Then tomorrow we go to him, after the Transfiguration exam though" Neville nodded, looking out of the window at the moon, "We have to stop him at any cost Ron. I won't let Snape steal the stone…and bring back Voldemort to life. He is clearly still alive, and now that my head isn't ringing, I think that is what Firenze was trying to tell me on that night in the forest."

"Tomorrow it is then," he nodded resolutely, turning around to stare down at the barely visible light blinking at a distance, Hagrid's hut nothing more than a shadow in the mist, "Tomorrow we get to the Philosophers Stone, and stop Snape from bringing You-Know-Who back to power."

"What is that?!" came the ear-piercing shout from his left and right both as Hermione and Ron shrieked, stumbling back and banging their skulls against the now closed door. Neville on the other hand, could only stare at the three feet of scaly, reptilian, winged destruction with a dropped jaw. Her breath coming in increasingly short pants, Hermione tried to back up even more from the brown, spiny dragon, while Ron gulped once, "Thats a Norwegian Ridgeback, isn't it?"

"Err, Charlie told ye 'bout it did he?" Hagrid grunted, scratching his head…with a large, half burnt and bandaged hand, "She is a beauty, isn't she? Named 'er Norbert first, but then saw she is a lass, so changed it to Norberta."

"Hagrid," he began, taking out his wand and holding it tightly, his mind flitting through every offensive spell he knew, wondering which might be able to save his skin from the dragon currently sleeping not more than eight feet away from him, "Why in the name of Circe is there a dragon in this hut…made of wood?"

"Oh right right, that," the half-giant grunted, standing up from his bed and walking over to the fireplace, where a huge kettle sat upon the roaring flames, "Professor Quirrell came by the weekend she hatched, and did some magic on the hut to keep it safe from the fire and claws. Shoulda asked him to do some of tha' on my fingers now that I think about it."

"I don't think that is what Neville meant," Ron spoke up, slowly inching forwards as he kneeled down a little, staring at the shimmering bronze and copper scales of the she-dragon, "This is so wicked! I'm seeing my first live dragon before I even turn twelve! Not even Charlie can boast that, and he won an internship at the Romanian Reserve!"

"Hagrid…isn't keeping a class XXX or higher beast as a pet prohibited on Hogwarts grounds?"

"Err…it is?"

"Forget all that for the moment," Neville interrupted as he stared at Hagrid's singed beard and the claw marks on the walls all over the place. The part of his mind that had prompted the hat to suggest Slytherin for a moment went to work, and a terrible thought formed in his mind. The timing, the sheer rareness of dragon eggs, and Hagrid's known penchant for terrible beasts was making him consider a simple, but still a brilliant plan, "How did you come by a dragon egg, especially one that is as heavily monitored and controlled as this one?"

"Ye are righ' on that one," he chuckled gruffly, pointing his thumb at the splintered and pieces of black and white lying behind him by the fireplace, "Was in Hogs Head the other day, drinkin' mean and singing songs with the crowd and ol' Aberforth, when someone tapped on my shoulder. Found a Scandinavian man, and he was eager to get in with the drinks and singing! We played a few games of cards, and turns out the man works at the dragon reserve! So he gave me a dragon egg, and I told him 'bout all kinds and manners of animals I have worked with."

"Did you tell him about the Cerberus on the third floor?!" Hermione gasped, and Neville gulped as he saw the tail lying across the burnt rug twitch slightly. However, before he could even whisper to the girl about keeping her irritating voice down, she continued, "Did he say anything about the Philosopher's stone?!"

"How do ye know bout Fluffy?!" he blinked, his beady little black eyes shining with suspicion as he leaned down, before he blinked once and frowned, "And just how do ye know 'bout the stone?! This is none of yer business, so turn around and head back to yer dorms. And don't tell anyone bout Norb-"

"Snape is trying to steal the stone Hagrid!" Ron cried out, and Neville almost whimpered as he felt the floor vibrate beneath his shoes, the dragons rumbling somehow only being heard by him if the unconcerned face of the other three were any indication, "Now, what did you tell the man about the monster you somehow think is fluffy of all things!"

"What do ye mean Sn-"

Hagrids words were cut off as the dragon behind him growled loudly, silencing them all with the snap of her jaws as Norberta opened her eyes, dull red orbs with black slits looking at them. She turned her neck this way and that, sharp claws tapping against the floor as her tail whipped from side to side behind her. He immediately turned around, raising his hands above his head and splaying his fingers wide open, while the three of them backed up against the door. Gulping as Hagrid roared loudly and stomped his foot to scare his pet dragon into a corner, Neville clenched his eyes shut as she in turn let loose with a short burst of fire.

He was never going to close the door behind him from now on if he could help it.

"What do you mean we need to go to the third-floor corridor? There is a Cerberus there in case you have forgotten!"

"I think that is our test," he whispered, turning the parchment around to show the words upon it, Professor Quirrells handwriting as clear as day, "He did give us the book on XXX class monster a week ago, and Cerberii were in there. Maybe he had this in mind ever since his previous test was moved?"

"That…is true," Persephone nodded, taking the parchment and reading the short sentence on it. She sat down beside him, petting Sgàile quietly and leaning against her brother, "So, tonight we get to know if we are going to be his formal apprentices or not."

"Yes, and same for Neville too I guess," he answered, standing up and raising his wand towards Daphne, the blond sitting on the other end of the classroom, "You ready Daphne? Or do you want to wait a bit more?"

"No I am fine," she shook her head, stepping up to move a couple of feet to her right, her wand rising up to lie right before her chest, "I am ready. You may begin Harry, I will have the protego down by tonight."

"Fine then, stupefy!"

As she watched her brother and best friend practice their spellwork, Persephone turned her attention to the parchment that Sgàile had delivered to her. After that night when Professor Quirell had taken them to that hidden room by the library, they had never been invited to another session by him. Over the weeks, they had simply continued with their routine of homework and practice in the dungeons with Daphne and Tracey—and soon, with the onset of exams in the last week, she had completely forgotten about it. Today, it had been their last one, Transfiguration somehow turning out to be easiest for her despite just how vast the theory and practicals both had been for this year compared to the other subjects.

Maybe that is why the Professor had refrained from mentioning it to them, and now that their exams were over, he was once again offering them a chance at an apprenticeship. Which was a pretty big thing in the magical world, she had learned. Other than telling everyone that a master in a field saw you with the potential to succeed them, it also opened a lot of opportunities and knowledge otherwise locked to the general, average populace.

And she was going to do everything to get that apprenticeship, just like her brother.