Yo! Back again. I don't remember the last time I updated a single fic so many times in a row. Crazy. Anyway, thank you to all readers so far!

The very next day, Violet gained more information on that mysterious brown package, courtesy of Rose and Ron, who didn't seem to know how to keep their mouths shut. The two were actually a rather good source of information though, because whenever they wanted to discuss something new they'd learned, they often chose to speak in an alcove or the library-places easy enough to eavesdrop on them, and they were practically always poking around.

Today, they were discussing what they had learned from Hagrid the day before, after the Quidditch match. They were saying Professor Snape had let that troll in on Halloween and attempted to get past the strange three headed dog because he'd ended up bitten, that that package was what was hidden there and that he was after it, and that whatever it was was known only to Headmaster Dumbledore and someone named Nicolas Flamel.

Violet went on with her day in thought, trying to wrap her mind around all the new information. She had already assumed the dog was guarding the package, but had never expected her Head of House was after it. She couldn't recall seeing him injured, but considering magic was a thing that existed, he had probably healed himself fairly quickly if he had indeed been hurt. Who was Nicolas Flamel though? The name didn't sound familiar to her at all.

Still, while she was interested, Violet only researched when she had absolutely nothing else to do. She had school work to focus on, magic to learn, and an entirely new world to figure out. She had no desire to allow her curiosity to get in the way of these.

Weeks continued to pass and winter break slowly drew closer. Dawn and dusk were colder than ever and Violet wondered whether the castle was heated magically or not, because it certainly didn't seem like it, which was rather irritating for the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, whose dorms were in the dungeons and basement respectively.

Snow began to pile up and the entire lake froze over. The corridors and classrooms were absolutely freezing, but with that, the Great Hall was decorated for the upcoming holidays. The massive hall was covered in holly and mistletoe, and there were Christmas trees-twelve of them! They were huge and glittered brightly.

Violet had never seen anything like it. Starlight always had a tree around Christmas too, but it was a tiny thing-smaller than her, and not at all impressive, not like this.

On Tuesday, about a week before the start of the break, Violet was waiting for Theodore in the common room. He seemed to be running rather late though, and the two had already missed breakfast. This was quite strange, because Theodore was generally more prompt than Violet was, and was normally the one waiting for her

Everyone else had come and gone by this point, and the only ones left were the sixth and seventh years who had a free period first. Class was due to start in less than five minutes.

Concern beginning to set in, Violet headed over to Theodore's room and knocked on the door, unable to actually get in since it, like all the other rooms, was warded against anyone not invited inside. She waited longer than she thought necessary before the door finally opened.

Theodore, Violet noticed immediately, did not look well. He was pale, though his cheeks were flushed, and his nose was red and raw looking, as if he had been blowing and rubbing it all night. He was shivering slightly as well, even though he was wrapped tightly in his emerald blanket, which he had dragged along with him from his bed.

"Theo?" Worried, Violet reached out to set a hand on his forehead. He had a fever, she was sure of it.

Theodore raised an arm, pressed his mouth to his elbow, and coughed raggedly before groaning out what sounded like a 'hello'. Or perhaps it was a confused 'Theo?', since she had never called him that before.

"You're sick," said Violet, though it was a clear statement to both of them. "Come on, let's get you to the Hospital Wing. The older students have said that Madam Pomfrey can fix this instantly."

Theodore nodded, coughing again, and he stumbled after taking a single step forward, groaning again. "I don't think moving is a good idea," he muttered.

Violet thought back to the others at the orphanage, trying to remember. "Moving makes you feel sick?" Maybe it was the flu then instead of just a cold, as she had been assuming. Moving closer, she wrapped an arm around his waist. "Here, lean on me. We'll move slowly, okay? Just tell me if you need to stop at any time."

"Yeah, ugh..."

The two took their time heading up to the hospital wing, both of them wishing it was closer. The whole thing took longer because Theodore did indeed have to stop a few times when he felt close to being sick, which neither of them wanted. Violet wondered why there weren't more adults in the castle, because one of them certainly would have been a big help in these circumstances!

Eventually, they made it to the hospital wing and Violet set Theodore down on one of the beds before going to find the nurse-rather, Medi-Witch, as she was apparently called around here.

"Is something wrong, Miss Potter?"

"My friend is sick," said Violet. "He's waiting in the main room."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and bustled over immediately, pulling her wand out as she did so. She stopped in front of Theodore, waved her wand in strange, intricate patterns, chanting various spells that Violet couldn't understand. A sheet of parchment appeared in the air beside them, words appearing on it as if being written by an invisible hand.

Violet watched curiously as the woman fed Theodore a potion of some sort, and then told him to go to sleep. Theodore nodded before lowering himself down, already looking a little less pale, though nowhere near his normal self.

"He needs rest, Miss Potter," Madam Pomfrey said a moment later, turning and looking down at the girl. "I would prefer he remain here for the rest of the day, so you should hurry on and get to class."

Green eyes still showing a touch of concern, Violet nodded, deciding to trust the Medi-Witch, and after noting Theodore had indeed fallen asleep, left the hospital wing. She returned to Slytherin common room, grabbed her bag, which she had left behind, and then made her way over to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

She should have been in Herbology, but the lesson was going to end in just about ten minutes and she didn't see the point in heading to the greenhouses now, only to have to come back. Class would probably end by the time she made it there anyway, which would make the entire trip meaningless.

The Defence classroom was empty for the most part, the professor the only one in the room, seated behind his desk and going over a few different sheets of parchment.

To be polite, Violet knocked on the door before entering and walking over to her usual desk, setting her bag down before seating herself.

"Miss P-P-Potter! You're e-early!"

Violet inclined her head, acknowledging his words. "Theodore is sick," she said, "so I had to take him to the hospital wing."

"Ah, that is u-u-unfortunate. I take it he will be m-missing today's l-lesson?"

"Yes, sir. Madam Pomfrey wants him to stay for the day."

Caught in the concern for her friend, Violet didn't notice something about Quirrell change. She didn't notice the shift in intelligence visible in his eyes, didn't notice his posture straighten, and she didn't even notice that his usual stutter had vanished when he next spoke.

"Friend's illness aside, how are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?"

Violet couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face, and her eyes lit up. "It's amazing here!" she exclaimed. "It was so hard to believe magic really existed when you first told me, but it's so...obvious!"

And it really was, what with the way everything just constantly moved around without any visible aid, and the feeling in the very air itself. "Everything is just so different, but it's all wonderful."

"I am glad to hear that. And how have you been getting along with your housemates?"

"Okay, I guess," Violet said carefully. "A lot of them don't speak to me very much, and the few that do are pretty curt. Theo's the only one I can really talk to."

Quirrell nodded, though that was because there was something he understood that she didn't. "And your fellow first years from the other three Houses? I have noticed that your sister doesn't seem to take very kindly to you."

Violet shrugged. "I'm an 'evil' Slytherin who she believes to be a disappointment to our parents. Not that she even knows what she's talking about," Violet finished in a mutter. "A lot of them seem kind of scared, to be honest, but I do like talking to Hermione and Neville."

"Ah, Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom, correct? Yes, I have noticed that as well. You do not get along with any of the Gryffindors?"

Violet shrugged again. "I...guess not." Though it was clear to her why that was. Rose was sort of like the leader of the first year Gryffindors-perhaps because of who she was, and since she didn't care much for Violet, the others didn't either. Maybe they just didn't want to get on the bad side of the Girl-Who-Lived, but it was hard to say for sure.

"And your classes?" asked the professor, dragging the girl back out of her thoughts.

"They're all really interesting," said Violet honestly. "It's so different than Muggle school, and I don't just mean because there's magic here. Although..."

"Yes?"

Violet hesitated. She'd been wondering this for weeks now, but hadn't actually brought it up with anyone, not even Theodore. "Do the Pureblood and Half-blood children learn things like the alphabet, how to count and read, and recognize colours-all those things that the rest of us learn in primary school, at home from their parents? I mean, I know they wouldn't have been learning science and maths and so on, but how does that even work? If I asked a Pureblood what seven times six is, would they even know how to calculate that?"

Professor Quirrell was silent for a long moment, but actually looked quite intrigued. "Parents are expected to find the time to teach their children all this, yes, or hire a tutor for them, at the very least," he said finally, eyeing her oddly. "Though the Muggleborn children will be far more advanced when it comes to many of those topics, as the rest of the children will only know the basics of the basics, seeing as it is assumed that they will never need to know them."

Violet nodded, but frowned slightly. "Doesn't that work the other way around as well?"

"Pardon me?"

"Aren't there all sorts of things that the Purebloods and some of the Half-bloods already know, but the Muggleborns and so on don't?" she clarified. "Like using a quill, for example, though that's not even the most important thing."

The intrigue on Quirrell's face only increased. "I see. You're quite inquisitive, aren't you?" It wasn't an insult. "There are indeed many things that Muggleborn or certain Half-blood children know nothing of once they join our world and, to a certain extent, are expected to know-being able to write with a quill being just one of them."

Violet's frown deepened and her brow furrowed in confusion. "But...that doesn't make sense." She was about to say more, but the bell rang suddenly, bringing the conversation to a sudden, inconclusive halt.

Violet sighed softly. Now she had even more questions that had been raised, and no satisfactory answer for anything.

First day of the break, Violet found herself saying goodbye to Theodore who was, reluctantly, going home for the next two weeks. He claimed that he didn't want to, but his father had insisted on it, and apparently there was no arguing with him.

Violet on the other hand had absolutely no desire, interest, or reason to return to the orphanage, and had chosen to stay in the castle. Hermione and Neville had also gone home.

Slytherin's common room was nearly deserted, the vast majority of the students having returned home as well, and Violet was the only first year in their House who hadn't, giving her plenty of time alone. And since there were no classes, she had a perfect reason to avoid other students, such as her twin sister (who wanted to experience a Hogwarts Christmas) and her friend, both of who had also decided to stay behind, along with the other three Weasleys.

Still, Violet didn't mind being alone. While she truly did enjoy spending time with Theodore, she also liked spending time by herself, which was a normal thing to her, considering how she lived at the orphanage and her Muggle primary school.

She spent her time doing some research, still unable to figure out who Nicolas Flamel was, or catching up on her reading, always having been so busy with school work. She had a few assignments to do too, and she got those out of the way fairly quickly…

When Violet woke Christmas morning it was to the pleasant surprise of presents sitting at the foot of her bed. As she sat up, she found herself absently thanking the house-elves (she'd heard many of her housemates mentioning them) for bringing them. But she was smiling as she reached out for them. There were four, but that was still more than she had been expecting, four more, to be exact.

The first present was from Theodore. It was a book. Violet scanned through it with interest, realizing it was, essentially, of fairy tales in the wizarding world. How interesting. She knew all the classic Muggle fairy tales, and hadn't even thought that wizards would have had their own. Theodore must have realized that too. She was going to have to thank him and send him something in return, since she hadn't given him anything. She had only been shopping once, and that was before even learning Theodore existed, and she had no idea if ordering things was a thing that existed here.

The second present was a book as well, this one about magic itself-Light, Grey, and Dark, to be specific. Professor Quirrell had been the one to gift her this, which was quite strange. Oh dear, she was going to have to give him something as well at some point, wasn't she? She hadn't expected a teacher to give her something too. Regardless, she read through the contents list, fascinated.

The third and fourth presents were from Hermione and Neville, both sweets-a box of Chocolate Frogs from the former and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from the latter. She would repay them for that as well one day, even though they were just sweets. It was the thought that counted, after all.

Well, Violet now knew how she was going to be spending the rest of her break.

The next day Violet learned, quite by accident, that Rose had received an Invisibility Cloak from someone unknown-a cloak that apparently used to belong to their dad.

If that was true, that the cloak had belonged to their dad, that made it a family heirloom, right? So then why did Rose get it instead of her? Or why wasn't it something they were supposed to share between them?

At first Violet assumed that it meant Rose was the older twin, which was indeed possible. It wasn't as if she knew. But even if that was true, did those rules really apply to twins, whose age difference was mere minutes? Also possible, yes. But shouldn't whoever had given Rose the cloak have at least told Violet about it as well? Even if she wasn't going to get it, there was no reason for her to not learn it even existed, and they surely must have known that the twins didn't live together, let alone even get along, meaning Rose was never going to tell her about it herself.

Unless it had been given to Rose specifically because she was the Girl-Who-Lived. And if that was the truth, then it was unfounded and unfair. Violet could live with the idea that her sister had gotten it because she was a few minutes older, as irritating as it was, but this second reason-that annoyed her too much.

Why was it expected for the world to lie down at Rose's feet? Just because she possibly defeated the Dark Lord? Considering they had been a year old when it happened, did it really even matter?

Aware she wasn't going to bring it up just yet, Violet went on with her day, but the thoughts didn't leave her alone for a long time.

Despite having thought she was going to spend the entire Christmas break alone, Violet found herself spending a couple of days chatting with her Defence Professor. At first she had just gone to thank him for the book he had gifted her with, but then they had begun discussing it, and hadn't managed to finish their conversation the first day, which had prompted a second one the next day.

"So everyone is born with a Grey magical core?"

"That's right. As the years pass, their magic shapes itself and by the time they are of age, their core will either remain Grey, or become Light or Dark."

"But you also said parents might have something to do with it."

"Yes, genetics specifically, and you will find that in chapter eleven of the book you now have. Essentially, the parents of a child will help determine what type of magic that child's magical core will have. There is no guarantee, as external forces often play a large part of it. However, if say, both parents of a child have Light cores, then there is a chance that the child will end up with the same."

Violet nodded in understanding. "And if they don't? If the child doesn't follow their parents?"

"Again, if the parents have Light cores, there could still be a chance that their child will end up with a Dark core, if not simply remain with a Grey core. Although it's more common, if there is a difference, for parents with Light cores to have children with Grey cores, parents with Dark cores to have children with Grey cores, and parents with Grey cores to have children with any of the three cores."

Violet frowned, trying to understand. "So, it would be uncommon for parents with Light cores to have children with Dark cores, or the reverse?"

Quirrell inclined his head. "Yes." He was glad to see she caught on quick. "And, as I said before, there is never any guarantee, especially as there are generally always external forces. As children grow they learn their own perceptions and their views change, which impacts their magic. And these views may differ from their parents, which is why their magic may differ from them in turn."

Violet cocked her head slightly. "What about Half-bloods with only one magical parent, or Muggleborns with no magical parents? I guess half-bloods can still inherit the same core their magical parent has, but Muggleborns can't do the same, right?"

"Very true," said Quirrell. "For Muggleborns, their magic is almost entirely shaped by external factors since, the majority of the time, they lack the genetic component. Half-bloods with one magical parent may indeed inherit said parent's type of magic, but they too are more susceptible to external factors."

"...So, basically, Purebloods and Half-bloods with two magical parents are more likely to be influenced by genetics?"

"Yes."

Violet nodded again. "Professor, is there really that much of a difference between Light, Grey, and Dark magic?" This was something she was really curious about. The Gryffindors were always going on about the former, and the Slytherins, about the latter, though she had never heard the middle term before.

"The difference is not as large as you might believe," said Quirrell, raising a hand to stroke his chin as he spoke. "I am sure you have heard that all Light magic is good and all Dark magic bad, correct?"

"Yes, sir." In fact, that was all she heard about them.

"This is not necessarily true. Yes, there are indeed Dark spells that are more harmful than good, but there are Dark healing spells too, for example." Quirrell paused and sighed softly. "Most Light spells have a parallel Dark spell so people with all types of magical cores can perform them."

Violet's brow furrowed in confusion. "So, not everyone can use all magic?"

"No. A wizard with a Light magical core will have trouble performing Dark spells, and the same is true in reverse. Only wizards with Grey cores have a chance of performing all magic. What good would it be if a wizard with a Dark core was injured, and had no way to heal themselves because all healing spells were of Light magic?"

Once again Violet nodded, though a frown remained rooted on her face. "But...Light magic can be used as bad spells too, can't they?"

Quirrell raised a brow, which vanished under the rim of his turban. "Meaning?"

"Well...we learned the levitation charm the other week, right? And while we were only charming a feather to float, what if someone used the spell to levitate a...a big rock, for example, and drop it down on someone's head? That could really hurt them, if not kill them, and you can't really say it's an accident either, right?"

"Although the levitation charm is Grey magic you are, indeed, correct. There are many Light and Grey spells out there that are just as dangerous as the Dark ones, yet very few here question things as you do, Violet."

But there was pride in his eyes, in his voice, that had Violet's heart soaring, though she wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps because she had been complimented in a way, and wasn't used to it at all? Yes, perhaps that was it.

He wasn't sure why he had done it. Something about her magic drew him to her, and seeing the intrigue and excitement on her face when it came to learning about magic had prompted him to send her the book on magical cores.

He hadn't expected any discussion to come of it-it was already enough that he had sent her the book in the first place, but when she came to thank 'him' for the gift, he hadn't been able to stop himself from asking how she was enjoying it. She'd had a number of questions, and he'd been able to provide her with answers.

She was a child still, yes, in more ways than one, but he was sure if she kept up with things the way she was, she was going to grow into a formidable witch one day.

Despite who she was, he found that he was looking forward to it.

Christmas break came to an end, students returned to the castle, and classes resumed. With spring arriving, the snow turned to rain and the lake thawed out while temperatures rose steadily.

While continuing her studies, Violet went on with her unsteady research on Nicholas Flamel. She had yet to figure out who the mysterious man was, though was sure she had heard his name at some point or another. The name had finally started ringing a bell, but the problem was that she couldn't remember WHICH bell that was.

One Tuesday morning not too long after, she finally got the answer she had been looking for.

Herbology had been a very simple affair, with the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs planting seeds to newly discovered plants. With the task being so menial, many of the students had begun to chat with their friends, and Violet was no exception.

She was in the middle of a fascinating discussion with Neville about a plant known as the Devil's Snare. She had never heard of it before, but he seemed to be a natural when it came to the subject, and knew far more than she did.

Class came to an end and after washing up, the Slytherins headed up to Defence Against the Dark Arts, where they were joined by the Ravenclaws. Violet sat at her usual desk and listened to Professor Quirrell stutter on with half an ear.

Nicolas Flamel... Nicolas Flamel... She had gone through so many books, spent so much time on this, and she still didn't know who he was. How could it be possible that not even a single book in the massive library even mentioned his NAME?

"Violet? Are you okay?"

It was Hermione's voice that drew Violet out of her thoughts. She blinked and then looked up, finding Hermione standing over her. She blinked again and looked around, only now realizing that the room was emptying. The lesson must have finished. Strange, she hadn't even heard the bell.

"Violet? Hello?"

Violet blinked a third time and then refocused. "Sorry, Hermione. I didn't realize I was lost in thought."

Hermione smiled slightly, though the concern remained on her face. "What have you been thinking about? You were out of it all class. Even Professor Quirrell noticed."

"Did he? Oh." Violet certainly hadn't meant for that, and sighed. "Actually, there's someone I've been looking into, but I haven't actually managed to learn anything about him."

Hermione frowned. "Who? If you don't mind me asking," she added quickly.

"Someone named Nicolas Flamel," Violet said. "I...overheard his name a while back and got curious, but I haven't been able to find anything about him anywhere. I can't tell you how many books I've gone through."

Hermione's frown deepened. "You know...I think I've read that name somewhere before. Where was that? I know it was recently too."

Violet perked up. Why hadn't she thought to ask Hermione before? If anyone in the castle could research something, surely it was a member of Ravenclaw House!

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes brightened and she released a gasp. "Now I remember! Meet me in the library in ten minutes!" And with that she ran off.

Surprised and slightly confused, it took Violet a moment to figure out what had happened, and a low chuckle drew her out of her thoughts. She looked up, finding that Professor Quirrell was still standing by his desk.

"You should do as she says," he told her. "It won't do to keep an eager Eagle waiting." A strange smile played across his lips, as if he knew something she didn't.

Still, Violet nodded, gathered her belongings, and left the classroom, making her way to the library, curious to know what Hermione knew. Theodore, she realized absently, must have gone off with Malfoy, who had been his friend for many years, because he didn't seem to be around. Well, at least she didn't have to worry about leaving him confused about all of this.

Fifteen minutes later, Slytherin's Violet Potter and Ravenclaw's Hermione Granger were huddled up in a corner of the library. Hermione had returned to her dorm and come back with a large, old tome that she had borrowed from the library some time ago. Violet watched in amused curiosity as she paged through the book, clearly looking for something specific.

"Aha!"

"I take it you found what you were looking for?"

"Yes! Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

Violet froze, and then her eyes narrowed. "Philosopher's Stone..." she repeated slowly.

An avid reader, Violet knew what that was of course, though she hadn't expected them to actually exist. If the contents of that little brown package were known only to Dumbledore and Flamel, it was likely that it was this Stone, wasn't it? But did it do the same thing as it did in fiction? She asked Hermione.

"Hmm...legendary stone...transforms any metal into pure gold...oh-it also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal." Hermione looked up into curious green eyes. "It's the only stone in existence right now too."

"I see." That had to be it then-that was what that three headed dog was guarding. But why? Why hide the Philosopher's Stone of all things here-in a school? Why couldn't it stay with Flamel? "How old is Flamel?"

Hermione blinked at the sudden question, and then checked. "It says he just celebrated his-wow, six hundred and sixty fifth birthday. His wife is almost as old as he is as well."

Violet frowned. Which meant he must have had the Stone with him for all those centuries, right? Why suddenly entrust it to Dumbledore? And why keep it in a school full of curious children no less? "Thank you, Hermione. This was exactly what I was looking for."

"No problem. I think this is the only book here in the library that mentions him, so you wouldn't have been able to look him up as long as I had the book out..."

So, Rose and Ron were under the impression that Professor Snape was after this stone, huh? Violet supposed it was always possible-anything was possible, but...something about that just didn't seem right to Violet.

Weeks passed and no matter how hard she thought, Violet was unable to piece together why the Philosopher's Stone of all things would be hidden at Hogwarts. Hagrid had said the castle was one of the safest places in the world, but that was never a guarantee around so many children, was it?

Violet had heard her housemates talk about vaults deep down inside Gringotts that were guarded by dragons. Surely keeping the Stone in one of those would be safer? It had to be hard to get past one of those creatures, right? Especially if someone was trying to do that on their own. So then, why Hogwarts?

Violet just didn't understand…

Another Quidditch match took place with Gryffindor beating Hufflepuff in less than five minutes, even though Professor Snape was refereeing. And while Violet was impressed with her sister's skill, she still wasn't pleased that she had been allowed on the House team despite her age-not to mention how she had almost gotten herself killed during flying lessons.

Rewarding her instead of punishing her wasn't going to teach her a thing. Yes, she had gotten a detention and cleaned cauldrons as well, but it was hardly a difficult task, and with a spot on the Quidditch team in sight, well, Violet doubted the detention had bothered Rose very much...

It was after dinner, not long before curfew. Violet was walking through the corridors, returning to Slytherin's dungeons from the library, where she had just finished up a Charms essay. Theodore had finished before her and had been nodding off at the table, so he had returned to their dorms first, leaving Violet on her own.

The corridors in this part of the castle were typically empty during this time, which was why Violet paused in place when she heard a sudden shuffling coming from just around the corner.

"-t-to meet h-here of all p-p-places, Severus," a voice was in the middle of saying. It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was. Professor Quirrell sounded as nervous as ever.

"I thought we might keep this private," Professor Snape said in reply.

Violet was about to turn around and head back the way she had just come from, but Snape's next words kept her rooted in place despite herself.

"Students are not to know of the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

She was right. It was the Stone. Even though she knew better, Violet pressed herself up against the wall and listened closely.

"Have you learned how to get past Hagrid's beast yet?" questioned Snape.

Quirrell stuttered out a protest.

"You do not want me as an enemy, Quirrell."

Quirrell stuttered out another protest.

There was more shuffling, loud enough to block the beginning of the next sentence, so Violet was only able to catch-"-waiting for your little bit of hocus pocus," from Snape.

A third protest and this time, Professor Snape said he would wait until Quirrell decided exactly where his loyalties should lie, before they spoke again.

Realizing the discussion was coming to an end, Violet quickly left the area, unaware that she wasn't the only one who had overheard a piece of that conversation. Rose had heard it too, and while her twin sister continued to believe Snape was after the Stone, Violet, for the first time, began suspecting someone quite different.

She began suspecting Professor Quirrell.

That stutter of his... Violet couldn't believe she didn't notice it earlier! It had to be fake because now that she thought back, she could remember, quite distinctly, that it always seemed to vanish when the two of them were alone. It had happened the very first time they'd met too, back at Starlight, and then again when she had gone to Defence early when Theodore had been sick, and also during their discussions over the Christmas break.

But the speech impediment always remained firmly in place when there were others around-students, teachers, and so on. It never vanished during classes either. So why did it only go away around her? Though, it wasn't just the stutter that would change. No, his personality-his demeanour, all of those changed around Violet too.

Quirrell always seemed smarter when they were alone, and far more confident. He would always know exactly what he was talking about, and would never hesitate in his wording. It was almost as if he was an entirely different person.

But why was that? Why was he doing this? Why the strange behaviour? Why the stutter? Was he the one after the Philosopher's Stone? He'd been the first one to see that troll on Halloween. What if he had been the one to let it in?

Violet also knew she wasn't the only one suspecting Quirrell. It sounded like Snape suspected him too, though why he couldn't just stop him or tell Dumbledore or something, Violet didn't know.

It also sounded like that three headed dog wasn't the only thing guarding the stone. From Snape's words, it seemed like there were a number of spells too. Maybe multiple professors had done something, and Quirrell was one of them.

But what exactly was going on? And why?

In the weeks that followed, Violet kept a close eye on the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Not just because she believed he was after the Philosopher's Stone, but because she wanted to see his strange behaviour change without anything clouding her judgement.

He grew paler and more nervous, but nothing else about him changed all that much. They didn't have any more discussions alone either, since Violet was busy studying for the upcoming exams. Professor Snape meanwhile was his normal, icy self, and she was sure he had nothing to do with trying to steal the Stone, no matter how much her sister suspected him.

Violet had heard Rose and Ron again, some time ago, discussing how the three headed dog-Fluffy, as his name apparently was, wasn't the only thing guarding the Stone. Other professors must have placed their own defences as well, though Violet had already guessed the same thing, from what Snape had said to Quirrell.

Not too long before exams started, Violet was studying with Theodore in the common room when a strange pain suddenly flared in her mid-section. Gasping in surprise, she set a hand over the spot before realizing that that was exactly where the strange rune was.

"Violet? Are you okay?"

Violet's head snapped up and she looked up, only to see a concerned looking Theodore peering back at her. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Sorry for the interruption."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

It was clear he didn't believe her, but Theodore nodded and lifted his textbook again, returning to his own revision. Violet meanwhile, bit back a frown, removing her hand as the pain began to fade.

That 'rune' as she called it, had never ever hurt before. So why now? She couldn't have imagined it, and it couldn't have been anything else either. She brought her hand back up and rubbed the spot absently. She didn't understand why it was hurting.

Hours later, Violet ended up learning something quite shocking from Malfoy of all people. He hadn't given many details, seeming a little shaken, but apparently, while in the Forbidden Forest for a detention with Hagrid (which Rose and Ron had also been part of for some reason or another-Violet hadn't really paid much attention), he had seen a strange hooded figure begin to drink the blood of an injured or maybe even dead unicorn.

Violet was pretty caught off guard by that, because Professor Snape had once mentioned in Potions class that attacking a unicorn was a very, very bad thing, and that was why they only ever used ingredients obtained from live ones-such as their tail hairs.

One of the seventh year students overheard Malfoy and, looking shocked and confused, mentioned that drinking the blood of a unicorn would curse the drinker-that it would be better just to die.

Violet quickly found her thoughts drifting to the Dark Lord Voldemort. Most people thought he was dead, but not everyone. There were still plenty of people who thought he was alive and trying to come back. Was it possible that this unicorn blood drinking figure was him?

But if it was, how had he managed to get onto Hogwarts' grounds? He was the Dark Lord, after all. Wasn't the place warded against him or something? How could he have just...been lurking in the forest? And why? Why did he need unicorn blood? Was he maybe not fully alive?

And now she was starting to get another suspicion as well. A suspicion she didn't really like the thought of very much.

The seventh year had said that drinking unicorn blood would keep someone alive-immortal, in a way, but in a cursed life. If Voldemort was alive and drinking unicorn blood in the forest, wouldn't he benefit from the Elixir of Life? The elixir made from the Philosopher's Stone? The Stone that was currently supposedly in the castle? If Quirrell was trying to steal said stone, unless he wanted it for himself…

Wasn't it possible that Quirrell was working for or even with Voldemort?

Finally, exams arrived and Violet was actually surprised with how well they went, despite the constant throbbing of her rune. She had always been fairly studious, but she'd been worried since this was all new to her. Luckily, Theodore had been a great help when it came to studying. Unlike Hermione, who was far too...frantic for Violet to get any work done.

Defence and Potions were the easiest for her, Transfiguration and Charms a close second. Herbology was made simple because of everything Neville had told her about as well, which certainly helped her a lot. Astronomy hadn't been particularly difficult either. History of Magic on the other hand, her final exam, was the one Violet had the most trouble with, and she was more than a little glad when it was finished.

It was a gorgeous sunny day and Violet spent it outside with Theodore (Hermione busy revising all her exam answers), the two of them just chatting about this and that. When dusk began to arrive, the temperature dropped and a chill set in, so Violet returned to the common room, Theodore telling her he would join her in a few minutes because he was feeling kind of hot and liked the cool wind that had started blowing.

Violet sat in one of the many high backed chairs, examining the tapestries on the stone walls while she waited. The other Slytherins sounded quite cheerful, no doubt because exams were finally finished. The fifth and seventh years seemed the most pleased, and everyone appeared relaxed.

But when Theodore returned to the dungeon common room a few minutes later, he looked anything but relaxed. He made a beeline for Violet, stopping only when he was standing over her chair.

"What's wrong?" she asked in concern.

"I just overheard your sister and Weasley. They were talking about going through some trap door to stop Professor Snape from getting the Philosopher's Stone so he can't give it to the Dark Lord."

Violet froze, understanding what was happening immediately. Unsure of why she didn't want to tell Theodore the truth, she merely played the whole thing off. "What?" She released an exasperated breath. "Those two are idiots, Theo. Who knows what they were talking about."

Theodore seemed to buy it fairly quickly. "True. They did help Hagrid with the whole dragon thing."

"Yeah, and where did that land them? Detention in the Forbidden Forest and a hundred points taken from their House."

Though even after the two wished one another a good night and separated, Violet couldn't cast what she had heard away. Rose and Rom must have gotten the same information she had, though perhaps through other methods, and they were going through that trap door, maybe even right now at this very moment.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Violet set a hand over her concealed rune, biting her lip as it throbbed in pain. Maybe it was a connection to her sister. Maybe it was trying to tell her Rose was in danger. She tapped her foot as she thought, feeling irritatingly anxious.

If someone was going to steal the Stone right now, why not get the teachers involved? Had they even mentioned it? Had they been ignored? Her foot tapped faster. Maybe...maybe...maybe.

The tapping stopped.

Only one more chapter left for first year. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!