Six: …But Satisfaction Brought Him Back
…but the satisfaction of knowing is worth it.
When the professors finally caught up to the Mountain Troll, they found it unconscious – and rather worse for wear – outside the girls' bathroom in the charms corridor. Having been alerted that there were also students in the area by the Headmaster – and when Severus Snape found out exactly how the man did that, he would take great pleasure in hiding his superior's lemon drops – they immediately went looking for them. But they found nothing.
"You don't think students did this, do you Severus?" Minerva asked him, indicating the magical beast now being removed by Hagrid.
"Perhaps," he answered distracted – his leg hurt, stupid beast – "but only someone from fifth year up I believe," he finished.
"Then we should find who from those years went missing after the feast, and make sure they're alright," she answered.
"Yes, of course. I'll leave it to you to discover the miscreants, Minerva. I must retire," he spoke briskly and strode away before the nosy woman discovered he was hurt. Once out of sight, he slowed his steps and allowed himself the weakness of limping. He made it to his quarters without anyone seeing him – or so he thought…
The trio had hidden close to the now-harmless magical beast to make sure they wouldn't be discovered – and that the troll was. After hearing the Professors dismiss them as fifth years or above, the three stealthily followed their head of house back to his dungeon home. Harry noticed his limp and the blood on his leg and pointed it out to the others silently. They'd have to wait until they returned to their own territory to discuss the matter.
Once they arrived, they found the feast in full swing in the main Common Room and in silent agreement decided to grab plates and food and enjoy themselves before bed. They figured they'd earned it.
Later that night, curled up in their armchairs in front of their potbelly stove with full bellies and comfortable in their pyjamas, they discussed what had happened that night.
"We know that the "dog" is guarding whatever was transported here from Gringotts," Hermione started.
"…and there is no way a mountain troll like that just happened to wander into Hogwarts by accident; they're really not that smart," Ron commented.
"So someone brought it here on purpose, and we believe Snape was injured by said 'dog' tonight," Harry continued.
"Someone likely let the troll in so it could distract the teachers away from the dog, but if that's true, then either Snape is trying to get past himself, or stop someone else from getting past," Hermione concluded.
"Well, for now let's give him the benefit of the doubt," Harry said. "He may not like us, particularly, but he is a Hogwarts teacher. If he knows about the stone, he's likely trying to protect it right?"
"Unless he shouldn't know about it all. Then he'd be trying to steal it," Ron countered, just because he could. It was best to keep their minds open, after all.
"True," Harry conceded. "I know we didn't really want anything to do with this at first, but… well, that troll was really dangerous. It could have killed any number of students. Whatever is hidden inside of Hogwarts must be really important. We can at least keep an eye out for suspicious characters around the castle."
His two friends nodded their agreement.
Who knew what would happen if the Headmaster failed to protect… whatever it was, after all?
The next morning, the trio went through their regular morning routine and then headed off to the Great Hall. Until now Harry had been training on the school brooms with the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Marcus Flint, ever since Snape had 'appointed' him as Seeker. However, he had also been instructed to find a broom of his own. This had proven to be a slightly complicated, but not overly difficult, task. He'd written away to a store in Diagon Alley and asked for a catalogue. When it arrived, Harry and his friends had spent an evening around their study table going over the pros and cons of each style of broom for his new position. While he wasn't really interested in playing games much, Ron had recommended he still get a good broom, since he did enjoy flying and was a natural.
"You should go for a racing broom, Harry," his friend suggested, crossing a few more models off the list. Ron had already taken off all the Cleansweep models, and had vetoed any broom from Ellerby and Spudmore or Flyte and Barker. "Comets are good Quidditch brooms, but if you can afford it, you'd get more use out of the Nimbus, I reckon," Ron finished advising.
"Well, I have a pile of gold left to me from my parents. I'm not about to spend it willy-nilly, but one broom isn't going to bankrupt me, which is new and different," Harry answered. He bit his lip, looking over the models of Nimbus' available. "Might as well get the most up-to-date. Then I won't have to replace it any time soon."
Up until now, Hermione had simply been reading the pamphlets and listening to Ron's advice. When Harry made his decision, she pulled out the order form he would need and started to fill it out for him. "We'll need to think about brooms for ourselves, Ron, for next year. It would be a good investment," she commented.
"You're right, Hermione. Let's look over these pamphlets some more," Ron agreed.
"While you two do that, I'm going to give this to Hedwig to send off," Harry said, Hermione handing off the form for him to finish with his authorisation for payment and vault number. Thankfully magical banking was a little more dependable and easier to handle than muggle banking; his personal magical signature all that was necessary to secure his request.
Once that had been sent off, they'd simply had to wait. Today apparently, the wait was over. Postal owls were flying in and out of the Great Hall as was usual for breakfast; it no longer caused a commotion among the first years as it did when they first saw the phenomenon. Today, however, more than just the first years cried out in amazement at what had just entered through one of the open windows. Coming toward the Slytherin table was a very large package being carried by three owls. They deposited their burden in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione, all of whom realised it had to be the new broom Harry had been waiting for.
They weren't the only ones to recognise the shape, however.
"That's a broom," Malfoy hissed at them from across the table, where he'd taken to sitting in attempt to either gain their good graces or find something to blackmail them with, they were still compiling evidence - "first years aren't allowed!"
Harry blinked at the boy. "I was asked to get one," he assured the other Slytherin.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "We'll just see about that!" With that he was off, straight to their head of house. From where they were sitting, none of the trio could hear the conversation Malfoy had with Snape, but their faces were visible. Draco was looking a cross of vindicated and triumphant, Snape disinterested. Then Snape's face melted into an expression of thunder, and Draco paled just as suddenly, before backing off and beating a hasty retreat out of the great hall, leaving their head behind him, scowling - which was his usual expression, really.
"Let's go," Ron muttered.
"Good idea," Hermione agreed.
Harry nodded, grabbing the package, the three of them walking as unobtrusively out of the hall as they could on a quick trip back to their room to leave Harry's new broom there before classes.
That afternoon at lunch, Flint approached Harry to let him know he'd seen his new broom. "We'll have a one-on-one practice this afternoon after classes, to get you used to how she handles, then you can join team training," he instructed.
Harry nodded, agreeing silently.
Once Flint had left, Ron spoke. "We'll bring something to read and sit in the stands again, Harry," he offered.
Harry smiled, pleased. "Thank you. I'd love that. Maybe we could say 'hi' to Hagrid on our way back to the castle."
"That's a great idea," Hermione agreed.
Plans set for the rest of the day, the three friends finished lunch and went to their afternoon lessons.
Training was soon over, Harry having to admit to himself he was slowly being won over by the whole concept of Quidditch - and the three friends headed back inside, via a stop at their giant friends house for a quick visit. He was, as always, pleased to see them; however he couldn't visit with them for long.
"Got groundskeeping things to keep me occupied tonight," the large man admitted. "Somat's been at the local wildlife. Not good. Need to hunt it down."
"Do you need help?" Ron immediately offered. His friends nodded.
"Ah, you're a good lot," Hagrid grinned. "Shouldn't be too much trouble. I'll let you know how I get along, yeah? Now you get yourselves back to the castle for late meal. Off you go," he shooed them away as he made himself ready to head into the Forbidden Forest.
Taking Hagrid's advice, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way back into the castle, wondering what could be lurking in the Forest. They were interrupted at the front door by Susan Bones, who was handing out reminders for the next Social Gathering, scheduled to be that weekend after the first Quidditch match of the season.
"You'll all be there, right?" She asked anxiously.
Hermione smiled reassuringly. "Of course. We'll see you there, Susan."
The girl signed in relief. "Good. Great! I mean I'll see you there," she said, hurrying away to hand out more flyers.
Finally, they made into the Great Hall for dinner. As they settled into their seats, gathering their food and began eating, Ron asked, "So Harry, how are you feeling about the game this weekend?"
Harry paused for a moment to consider how to answer. "I think… a little nervous? I've never performed in front of so many people before outside of music. That's easy; the music tends to take you away. This is different… I'm not sure if I'll like it, but I think I've sort of started to like Quidditch itself. It's… fun."
Hermione smiled at her friend. "I'm glad you find it to be. I certainly wouldn't like it, I think. Too fast paced for me."
"I don't know, Hermione," Ron considered. "I think you'd be a fantastic beater. You certainly have the core strength for it."
"I reckon you'd do great at keeper, Ron," Harry thoughtfully looked at his male friend. "Have you ever thought about playing?"
"A lot actually," Ron sighed. "My brothers played all the time, but I was never invited. So… I guess I'd love to experience it because I never have; but obviously I don't know how well I'd do or if I'd like it."
"Practicing blocking balls should be easy enough on the ground, then you can translate it to doing it on a broom… and something like cricket or softball would be great practice for a beater, Hermione. Maybe you could try out for the team in a couple of years, if you still want to, or at least we could play with the other first years when they have a game," Harry suggested.
Hermione's frown smoothed out into a thoughtful look. "Playing sports is supposed to foster good relationships, and everyone around here is sort of Quidditch mad. Maybe we could suggest to Susan some sort of pick-up game for the summer?"
Ron perked up. "That's a great idea for a Social Gathering, Hermione!"
Conversation drifted after that, back to their classes and extracurriculars. They had plenty to talk about, after all; and still much to learn of each other.
The weekend sped toward them; before Harry knew it, He was suiting up for his first Quidditch match: Slytherin vs Gryffindor.
Harry looked around at his team-mates curiously. They looked grim and determined. Harry sighed. He loved flying. He really did. He still wasn't sure about competitive Quidditch yet. As the team entered the stadium, Harry looked around the stands. He located his two friends rather quickly; sitting in the Hufflepuff stands with Neville, Lisa and Susan; as well as a bunch of other first years. Even Hagrid had squeezed in beside them. They had a banner that said "Harry is our Hero!". It drew a smile from the reticent boy.
"Here we have the Slytherin Team: Captain and Chaser Marcus Flint, fellow Chasers Adrien Pucey and surprisingly Terence Higgs, last years Seeker; Beaters Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole, Keeper Miles Bletchley; and a surprise choice for seeker – first year Harry Potter!" The audience cheered at the announcement from the Gryffindor announcer – the first-years of every house the loudest – then Lee Jorden, the student announcer, said enthusiastically "and the Gryffindor team: Captain and Keeper Oliver Wood, Chasers Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell, Beaters Fred and George Weasley and sixth year student Emma Thoughtwright, newly off the bench, for seeker!"
The Gryffindors filled the stadium with cheers. Madam Hootch started the match and the game was on. Three things stood out to Harry at the end of that day. One – someone tried to kill him by cursing his broom; two – he'd caught the snitch anyway, though entirely by accident and possibly because someone was trying to choke him instead of him going 'splat'; and three – Marcus Flint was a cheater, and was leading his team down the same path. It wasn't something he was planning on being a part of, regardless of what Professor Snape wanted.
The First Year's Social Gathering was scheduled to start just after the Quidditch game, with a buffet lunch for the attendees, geared at allowing everyone to discuss the match and then, hopefully, find other things in common. Harry left his two friends in the foyer of the castle, where they promised to wait for him while he ducked down to their dormitory for a quick shower and change. There was more than one reason he needed to go through Slytherin territory right now, however.
Before heading to their shared dorm room, Harry made his way to the office of his head of house, where the man was thankfully grabbing something before making his way to the Great Hall for lunch.
Knocking politely on the door, Harry entered and calmly made his position clear.
Severus Snape glared at the brat in front of him. "Excuse me?" he almost snarled.
"I won't play on a team that cheats," Harry clarified, quietly but firmly. He didn't give the teacher another opportunity to reply, but turned and started to leave. He paused at the door. "You know, so many people claim that Slytherin house is dishonourable. I don't believe we should be helping to convince them." And he left; going to change and make his way back to his friends. He had much more important things to be doing this afternoon, after all.
Severus Snape blinked, and had the sudden unsettling premonition that being left flummoxed by Harry Potter was going to be a constant occurrence over the next seven years.
After enjoying the afternoon with the majority of the other first years currently in Hogwarts, Harry, Ron and Hermione started making their way back to their own common room.
"Susan outdid herself today," Hermione hummed in satisfaction.
"She certainly did," Harry agreed. "Did you mention the Quidditch idea, Ron?"
Ron grinned. "I did. She thought it was great. We might not get to do it until next year, because she's pre-planned most of the engagements for this year, but she thought it might become a common activity the first years can do together outside of Social, too."
"That's great. I didn't even think of it as something we could do outside of Social," Hermione agreed enthusiastically.
The three chatted all the way into Slytherin territory. They had just entered the main Slytherin common room, which seemed uncommonly full and buzzing with conversation, and were making their way over to their year-door, when Theodore Nott stopped them to talk to them. "Did you hear? Marcus Flint is furious!" he spoke with glee – the Notts and Flints had a family feud that had lasted three hundred years (though, all being sorted into Slytherin during that time, it wasn't something commonly known).
"Why?" Ron asked, faintly interested.
"He had an interview with Snape. Amy Rogers told me that her sister heard from her best friend Rene, who found out from her boyfriend that Snape threatened his place as Quidditch Captain!"
Harry hoped it was true, if only to save Theo a bitter disappointment – he was so excited he was practically bouncing from foot to foot.
"Oh. Well, I'm sure we'll find out if we get a new captain," Hermione said with amusement shining in her eyes. Theo grinned, imagining the look on Flint's face if he was stripped of the position. It wouldn't be the first time in Hogwarts history, but it certainly would be the first time in Slytherin history, and the humiliation would be immense. He was distracted by a second year entering the common room. "Oh! Andrew doesn't know yet!" he said in excitement – this was the best thing to happen all year! "Excuse me!" And he was gone.
"Huh," Ron said, amusement burbling in his tone. "Wonder what that's all about?" He asked as they continued on their way, through their year door and down their corridor to their own first year common room, which was empty right now.
"Mmmm. Might have something to do with the very short interview I had with Snape earlier? Just after the Quidditch game, before I joined you for Social," Harry explained to his friends, continuing on towards the privacy of their dormitory.
"What?" Hermione yelped.
"You went to see Snape alone?" Ron demanded protectively.
Harry sighed. "I knew I'd catch him off guard," he said as he opened their door with a brush of his magical signature. His friends followed him inside.
"Why, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Snape appointed me to the Quidditch team, but I won't play if they're cheating," Harry stated simply.
His two friends exchanged a look, then smiled at him. "Well, guess whatever you said, worked," Ron snickered, remembering Theo's excitement.
Harry and Hermione had to share his laughter. The boy's enthusiasm had been a little funny.
The next afternoon, the trio had finished their homework, their reading-for-pleasure books, their reading-for-school books and their reading-for-muggle-school books… they were somewhat at loose ends.
"Why don't we go and visit Hagrid?" Harry suggested. "We still don't know how his job in the Forbidden Forest went."
His two friends perked up. "Great idea, Harry," Hermione enthused, the intellectual girl hated being bored.
Ron stood. "Let's go!"
They made their way out of the castle and onto the grounds; where Hagrid's hut was nestled not far from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Knocking on the giant door, the three friends waited for Hagrid to answer, which he did with delight.
"Come in! Come in!" He offered.
After they were settled with cups of tea and had chatted for a while, Harry brought up Hagrid's job in the Forest.
Their large friend became grim. "Not a good thing, that," he answered.
The three listened in silence as Hagrid explained that something had killed a unicorn in the Forest. Hagrid didn't know what had done it. He hadn't caught anything yet; hopefully whatever it was moved on before any more unicorns were hurt.
"Well, we're ready to help if you need it, Hagrid," Ron said seriously. His two friends nodded.
The large man paused, the refusal frozen on his lips, then sighed. "If another unicorn dies, then aligh'," he conceded. "Until then, stay away! Don't want ye gettin' in trouble goin' in there!"
They were quite happy to agree, having too much to do to go looking for trouble anyway.
Hermione sighed. "There seems to be so much bad happening right now," she muttered.
"What's that?" Hagrid asked, concerned for his three little friends.
"The other day we were seeing Neville back to Gryffindor tower after an accident in flying lessons landed him in the hospital wing," Ron started to explain. "We ended up getting lost somewhere that must have been the third floor, because we found the certain death the headmaster warned us about on the first day of term. It's this huge three headed dog - "
"Ye met Fluffy?"
There was a beat of silence.
"Fluffy?" Three incredulous voices asked.
"Yeah. He's mine," the man replied proudly, because of course a Cerberus in a school belonged to Hagrid and was called Fluffy.
"He didn't look so fluffy to me," Ron muttered at Harry.
Harry had to agree.
Hermione was a little put out. "What's he doing inside? An animal that big should be free to roam, Hagrid!"
Hagrid winced. "I loaned 'im to Dumbledore, to guard… um, somit."
"Something?" Hermione asked, not impressed. "Has he even been outside once since the start of the school year?"
"Quick question, first, the teachers do know about this… something… that Fluffy's guarding? That Dumbledore brought here from Gringotts, right?" Harry interrupted Hermione's interrogation of an increasingly trapped looking, paling Hagrid, who jumped on his distraction in relief.
"'Course they know! They're helpin' to protect the… thingy," he claimed.
"So, if the teachers do know, then it's more likely that Snape was hurt trying to protect it from someone, rather than trying to steal it for himself, right?" Ron asked.
"Huh?" Hagrid asked.
Which led to an interesting story about a troll, a bathroom and an injured teacher.
"Now, this is all nonsense," Hagrid blustered at the end of it all. "No-one is going to come into Hogwarts while Dumbledore is 'ere. You're all very safe," he insisted, ushering them out his front door firmly. "No-one needs to go stickin' their noses into this business between the 'eadmaster and Mr Flamel. Got it?"
The three Slytherin first years exchanged a look. "Yes, Hagrid," they chorused.
"Good. Now you three run along. Dinner's not long off," Hagrid encouraged, and watched from his door as they made their way safely back inside the castle.
Now, let it not be said that our three young friends didn't respect Hagrid; because they did. Quite a fair bit, actually. However, it was also true that they had no intention of not sticking their noses where they didn't belong - because they had almost died because of that troll, after all; and Harry had been deliberately targeted at the Quidditch match. All of which pointed to the culprit being someone already living in Hogwarts, with total access to innocent students.
They would keep their snooping under the radar, because they didn't want to be getting into trouble or attracting attention, and they couldn't devote a lot of time to it, because they did have lessons and studying to do and priorities, boys Hermione had stated firmly - but all three Slytherins had come to Hogwarts with only the expectation to pass seven years in isolation and derision, as they had already lived; and the home and family they had made here with each other was something they were ready to fight for.
In whatever way they had to.
One morning not long after their conversation with Hagrid, the trio was attending breakfast as usual. They ate steadily; Harry glad that there was plain toast and porridge, Ron enjoying his kippers with bacon and eggs, Hermione relishing a tasty, nutritious muesli; and each their choice of milk or juice or both if they so fancied. It was far different from what they were used to: Hermione usually forcing down some unpronounceable, foreign dish her parents had enjoyed while they were abroad, Ron scrounging for food he could eat on the go, Harry going without altogether. Soon the seats around them started filling and conversation started buzzing around the hall. When the owl-post arrived Michael-Angelo landed powerfully on the table with a very full manila envelope attached to his leg. Ron quickly freed his familiar while Hermione provided some water and Harry some food for the owl. He certainly looked like he'd had a hard flight. As soon as he'd finished taking a long drink and a few nibbles of bacon, he gave them a tired "hoot" goodbye and flew back to the owlery. Ron quickly opened the package and read through the cover letter. His eyes brightened and his face lit up.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"Confirmation of enrolment for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger," he replied with a quick smile; his friends now enrolled in the same long-distance muggle school he was. His two friends leaned in closer, excitement burning the air around them. They quickly compared placement results. [1]
"Wow Harry. You tested at uni-level mathematics!" Hermione said, very impressed. Ron, she knew, had completed all the required class work for that subject just before arriving at Hogwarts, and she herself only had one unit left to complete the subject at high-school level; her home-studying and Ron's summer classes paying off for them now.
Harry smiled. "Math is one of my favourite subjects," he explained. He looked at his report. [2] He had finished high-school math and English, and scored really well on the theoretical portions of all the sciences. He'd not done much in the way of applied science – the opportunity had simply never been available – and would have to make that up. He had a few units of study he needed to do to finish – biology and chemistry would do – and was behind in social science. He also noticed that there was also a few optional foreign language courses he'd love to take a look at. All together, it shouldn't take long to finish. He threw a quick eye over Hermione's results – very impressed with her language and science scores – and he recalled from memory what Ron had to do. He grinned. They should all graduate muggle high school within a few years, even with their magical studies to complete as well.
Ron studied his friends' results. He realised that his and Hermione's were a lot more even than Harry's, having the benefit of attending formal education before Hogwarts. Hermione, having had a tutor to specifically prepare her to enter collage, had almost finished high school. She only had a few more units to complete; one math and two each of English and biology. He noticed her pull a face at that; and had to grin at the thought that she was probably squeamish. Ron hadn't had a tutor organising his studies, but he'd worked towards finishing high school by himself for years. He had completed math, English and biology. He was mostly behind in science; having grown up with magic breaking every physical and scientific law that was in his science texts, he'd never put much effort into it. [3] He'd need to work hard to complete the three units he had left, but he had no doubt he could succeed in a timely manner – especially with his two friends on his side. He contemplated for a moment, how strange it was, to rely on someone – two someone's – other than himself; and how quickly it had taken for him to decide they were worthy of that trust. It had taken more than eight months for him to come to depend on Sarah, his art instructor, and slightly less than that for trust to build between himself and Professor Davies, though they weren't as close. Ron shook it off. It was probably the same for Harry and Hermione. He'd worry about it later if it became warranted. [4]
One of the many projects Harry, Ron and Hermione had started was something to help them with their music. They needed something to record themselves playing that they could listen to and pick out where they needed to improve when they were playing in a group; something like a muggle recording device. That wouldn't work in Hogwarts, so they needed a magical equivalent. Research had proved frustrating; there were plenty of charms to play music, or add music to an object - but it was single-use only. They needed something to store their music on.
Through a combination of charms, runes, beginners arithmancy, advice from Flitwick and the tried and true method of flying-by-the-seat-of-their-pants, they came up with something.
Honestly, it sort of looked like a rock.
A pretty rock, yes; kind of turquoise, opaque with lots of runes covering the surface.
Still a rock.
Despite what it ended up looking like the three burgeoning musicians were satisfied, because it worked the way they wanted it to: they could make up to nine recordings on it before it was full, play them back as many times as they wanted, delete whichever ones they needed to and it could become pretty loud when necessary. Using it was as simple as tapping the runes on the surface for each function.
It became a routine part of their daily practices.
When they showed the final product to Professor Flitwick, he'd been very impressed, and given them bonus charms and house points for the independent study. Their charms class averages soared, much to the chagrin of certain Ravenclaws, who were nursing a bit of a competition where academics were concerned.
Life trundled along.
The Christmas holidays were fast approaching; Harry and Hermione had already signed up to stay at Hogwarts. Ron had hesitated before signing up as well, deciding it was probably going to be better here than at home.
Classes were becoming a little more hectic as teachers tried to cram lessons into students who were already half-way out the front doors; and even though they weren't leaving, the three Slytherins found they weren't immune to the wonder of watching the castle being prepared for the holiday.
Still, along with their magical homework, new muggle lessons, reading ahead to keep themselves interested and extracurriculars - they had a very full schedule - Harry, Ron and Hermione were quietly researching one Nicholas Flamel. Hagrid's mention of a Mr. Flamel had jogged Ron's memory of Dumbledore's Chocolate Frog Card:
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS
Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.
They had discovered that alchemy was an ancient study concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, among other things, a legendary substance with astonishing powers - such as transmutation, the power to change one thing into another (mostly less expensive metal into gold), and creating the Elixir of Life, that would prolong the life of the drinker as long as it was consumed.
In other words, something a bad guy would want to steal, and the headmaster would want to protect.
Their working theory was that Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel had created a Philosopher's Stone that was once kept in Gringotts, it was in danger so Flamel passed it onto the headmaster, his friend and partner, for safekeeping and that was what Fluffy was guarding.
They were still working on confirming it.
Harry looked at the books they were searching fruitlessly; when suddenly it clicked. "Maybe we're looking at this all wrong," he said.
His two friends looked at him. "What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore are partners in the study of alchemy, right?"
"Yeah," Ron replied, confirming the only fact they had found out for sure.
"Well, what if the headmaster was a new addition? The study of alchemy includes the creation of the Philosophers Stone, it's what we suspect Fluffy's guarding. What if Dumbledore didn't help Flamel create one, what if he already had one?"
"In other words…" Ron said slowly, "… what if he was older than we suspect?"
"Then we are looking in the wrong places!" Hermione said, remembering the book she had stashed away in their room, "come on. I think I know where to find him." They hurried after her as she dashed from the library.
Hermione was right - they did find Nicholas Flamel in the library book she'd checked out for 'a bit of light reading'. The book was nearly bigger than she was. Discovering that the alchemist had been born in 1326 confirmed the thought that Fluffy - only Hagrid, was the shared thought - was guarding the Philosopher's Stone. It didn't really tell them who was trying to steal it.
"Snape," Ron said, nodding firmly.
"Why?" Hermione asked, scepticism lacing her tone.
"…doesn't he just strike you as someone with sticky fingers?" Ron answered sheepishly.
"You just don't like his class," Harry laughed.
"Well, he's a terrible teacher," Ron protested. "That should be illegal if we can't stitch him up for theft. All he does is stick up a recipe and tell us to follow it. He doesn't tell anyone why ingredients interact, or how to prepare ingredients or… anything! I had to learn all of that before I could help dad out with potions at home."
To be fair, Ron wasn't the only one who felt that a teacher should teach their subject; though Harry thought Snape pulled ahead by the skin of his teeth only because his class was non-theoretical and they could practice making potions in the lab.
"Binns is worse," he muttered, wondering if a ghost would have use for the Philosopher's Stone… no, probably not.
"At least we can study in his class," Hermione pointed out.
"When you can tune out his droning," Harry grumbled.
"Harry!" Hermione laughed at him.
"History is alive, Hermione. It should be taught by someone who's at least interested in their subject, instead of being bored to literal death by it," Harry defended.
Both Ron and Hermione were laughing now.
Harry could feel his face move into a reluctant smile. I guess we'll just keep our eyes open, he thought, before letting himself be swept away by the merriment of the moment and his two friends.
It hadn't taken very long for Harry, Ron and Hermione to come up with a suitable revenge against Peeves the Poltergeist, who to date had been personally heckling the three Slytherins on a weekly basis in an attempt to get a reaction other than cold anger and stoic faces. It did take until now to enact said revenge.
Currently, they were gleefully watching the fallout. In their defence, Peeves had been very annoying.
The castle ghosts were all gathered, quite uncharacteristically, in the large foyer area of the castle in front of the Great Hall. There was shouting, groaning, a few dramatic rattling of chains - the whole works. The argument had raged out of control for over half an hour so far and didn't seem to be ending any time soon.
The Bloody Baron was screeching in indignation; he'd never been so, so… humiliated! Insulted! Downright disrespected in his whole afterlife!
"PEEVES!" He bellowed.
"Now, now," the Fat Frier tried to sooth him. "We don't actually know it was Peeves."
"Well, who else is going to have done it?" Sir Nicholas muttered before the Baron blew up again, calling for Peeves' ectoplasm.
Eventually the Baron became fed up with the argument and stormed off - as well as any ghost could, anyway - with a posse after the troublesome poltergeist, to enact a punishment he deemed worthy of his actions.
The more peaceful ghosts, or those who didn't care to watch, eventually drifted away to go back to what they were doing.
The three Slytherins exchanged looks. It crossed their minds for a moment to feel bad for Peeves, but considering what they'd been putting up with from the annoying spectre, it didn't last long. [5]
During the last week of classes the three Slytherins were headed out to Herbology, rugged up along with the rest of their classmates, when Harry noticed something missing. Or rather, someone. A rather furry someone.
He frowned, looking around.
"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly, noticing her friends preoccupation.
The boy turned to his two friends. "When was the last time you saw Pasht?"
Ron and Hermione shared a startled look.
The red head closed his eyes, quickly running through his memories from the day. They had just come from lunch and before that Transfiguration, where Pasht had been sitting proudly on Harry desk through the lesson.
"Transfiguration," Ron said. He didn't remember her coming to the Great Hall with them.
"…we could skip class to look for her," Hermione offered, which was a huge deal for her. Hermione considered classes sacred.
Harry considered his familiar bond with the animal in question for a moment. There didn't seem to be any distress from the other end of it. "No, let's catch up with the others. Pasht is pretty independent. We'll look after Herbology, if she's still missing," he decided.
The three friends hurried to make it to the greenhouse before their class started.
Pasht didn't show up to Herbology. Harry was a little worried, but as Ron had commented, it was unlikely she'd want to come out through the snow, no matter how shallow on the ground.
Making their way back to the dungeons to put away their school bags, they were surprised by a furry missile shooting past them, heading back up towards the rest of the castle. As one, they stopped, turned and watched as the cat continued up the stairs and out of sight.
"…was that - Mrs. Norris?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"…I think so?" Ron answered dumbly.
Harry opened his mouth to contribute to the not-conversation when he was interrupted.
"Meow," Pasht said triumphantly from where she was suddenly winding around his ankles.
"Pasht!" Harry scooped up his second familiar, their bond swamped now with warm feelings of satisfaction and pride from the feline.
Harry blinked, looking up at the stairs where Mrs. Norris had disappeared. "Did you…?"
The three Slytherins looked at the tiny kitten, considered the large kneazle, and decided that… yes, Pasht could absolutely kick Mrs. Norris out of the dungeons.
Ron frowned, rubbing Pasht under the chin. "Has Mrs. Norris been bothering you?" He asked the small ball of black fur.
The purring menace put her nose proudly in the air, as if to say not at all, she only thinks she is before batting at Ron's fingers, ordering him to continue his petting.
"Well," Hermione concluded, "if it gets out of hand, we can always step in. Until then, my money's on Pasht."
The boys agreed, heading again towards their room, purring feline tucked securely in Harry's arms.
With Christmas around the corner, thoughts inevitably turned to family; as they did every year. It was, perhaps, the most bitter time for Ron, Hermione, and Harry, who's family ignored, neglected, and down-right abused them in different ways.
Christmas had always meant survival for Harry – at the Dursleys he was lucky not to be beaten to a bloody pulp and left to starve for weeks at a time, and after he left, he was lucky to be somewhere insulated from the biting, deadly cold with any kind of food in his belly.
Hermione was always reminded that her parents simply didn't care – always, they would leave on holiday and leave her behind, or take her with them and forget her when it came time to leave, or ship her presents by post even though they lived in the same house and never, ever would a present be something that she would enjoy, showing how little they truly knew her or cared to know about her. She had only bothered to write to her parents to tell them, shortly, that she'd organised herself for Christmas and the summer between first and second years, and to ask if she could return home for the summer the year after. They had written back and said it was fine; they'd be travelling around inspecting their various medical practices that summer making sure everything had run alright while they were out of the country, but their guests would have returned home by then and they'd open up the house for her and she could invite friends if she wanted. They hadn't spoken since.
For Ron, it had always been a time of bittersweet disappointment – he had never once received a gift from his mother, but his father would always remember, even if it was always a generic gift that he got for each of his children; he would receive nothing from Ginny or Percy, but if he was lucky, he'd get something interesting from Bill, who delighted in finding oddities to give his family; he would get down-right nasty presents from the twins, and had learnt to simply throw away anything they'd given him, but he would always receive something from Charlie, although it wasn't something that Ron would truly love having, showing again that although his brother thought of him, Charlie didn't know anything about Ron at all.
In fact, Ron hadn't bothered to write to his family since he got to Hogwarts; he was pretty sure they didn't even know what house he was in. As they didn't communicate with him when he was home, he didn't see the need to communicate with them when he wasn't. He had received a Christmas card from his father this morning though, including the following message: hope you're having a wonderful time at Hogwarts, son; I received notice you'd signed up to stay for Christmas. Great idea! A Hogwarts Christmas is truly an experience to remember. Your mother, sister and myself will be heading to Romania for Christmas, to visit Charlie… Ron couldn't find it in his heart to be bitter about that; Charlie hadn't been home for Christmas since he moved to Romania and hadn't seen his family at all since he was eighteen and newly graduated from Hogwarts. Thankfully it had been his father to write to his children currently living at Hogwarts, or – Ron knew – he wouldn't have received any notification at all. It reminded him to send a note home about his summer plans, though. A moment later he'd dashed off a quick note and sent it off with Michael-Angelo.
Mother
I am writing to inform you that I have been invited to stay with a friend over the entire period of the summer holidays. I have accepted the invitation. I will perhaps see you at platform nine and three quarters.
Your Son, Ronald
Time would tell how it would be received.
Most of their year-mates were leaving Hogwarts for home; as was the usual practice for most first years because by then most of them were missing their families and home comforts quite badly. There was only one other first year student staying this year, and she was from Hufflepuff.
Finally lessons ended and holidays began, and after much derision on the part of Draco Malfoy, the trio were left alone as all their year-mates left for home. It had been hard for both Ron and Hermione to be reminded that they had no-where to go and no-one to care for them at Christmas time; even though in the past they'd never especially enjoyed Christmas, they'd never spent it in a strange place away from the security of familiar faces; until Harry had commented that he was glad he could be somewhere with people he cared for. Christmas time had always been the time the Presul sisters took a holiday, visiting what remained of their family, and Harry refused to allow them to miss it, as it was something they saved for all year; and neither could he afford to go with them or they afford to take him. Both his friends were happy that they could give Harry his first real Christmas, and both realised that in a way – at Hogwarts, with each other – it would be theirs as well. They decided then, that it would be the first of many, and that each would simply get better and better.
Staying for Christmas at Hogwarts was all very well and good, until they realised Ron's siblings would also be staying - Percy yes, but more relevantly his twin brothers Fred and George.
Who's victim pool had just shrunk severely.
Without the kind of supervision that usually kept them in line.
And who were suddenly very interested in their youngest brother and his two friends.
The fallout wasn't pretty.
The twins first attempted to spike the food at the Slytherin table. What the trio had dubbed 'aura sight', a mixture of the techniques Harry and Hermione had learnt over the years before Hogwarts that the three of them had managed to combine, a way to 'send' their magic out and 'scan' the area around them to test for foreign magic and other danger and practiced whenever they could, showed the tainted food. They simply ate around it.
The older Slytherins were not impressed with the donkey ears and pigs noses many of them ended up with.
When their contaminated food didn't work, the twins set up traps in places the trio were usually seen. However, it was the school holidays and the three friends had decided to spend some serious time on their hobbies over the short break as soon as their homework was done. Therefore once they'd finished camping out in the library they retreated to Slytherin territory to work on their music, art and dance; especially the Christmas Carols they suspected that Professor Flitwick wanted them to play for Christmas Day.
Professor Snape could be heard swearing from three floors away when he walked through a trap only to have his hair dyed pink and sparkling.
The next thing that happened was again in the great hall, when they stopped for lunch - rather later than normal - and found the large room stuffed full of cats.
Checking the door showed a temporary transfiguration spell.
Ron sighed. "I smell twin Weasley work," he muttered.
Harry snapped his fingers. "So that's what's been going on. I had wondered."
"…are they targeting us?" Hermione asked, bemused.
"Probably. They'd be bored without a bunch of Slytherins to torture," Ron admitted.
They were distracted from their conversation by a bunch of the cats popping back into human form.
Harry considered the room. "I have to admit, I'm torn between finding out what it's like to be a cat, and letting the twins win one," he said to his friends.
"Too late!" With that, the twins, who had approached them from behind, pushed all three of them through the door, turning them into felines.
"Now for the pièce de résistance! Forge?"
"My pleasure, Gred! Aguamenti!"
Water poured all over them.
Harry found out pretty quickly that cats didn't like water.
Fred and George found out very quickly that three wet cats had very sharp claws and were extremely hard to catch. They certainly didn't feel like they won that round; and would find out eventually that Slytherins held grudges…
That night, the three friends were in their pyjamas after nice hot showers, sitting around their personal lounge area. Hermione looked at the boys. They looked back at their female friend. She nodded. "Of course you know, this means war."
Her friends grinned.
Finding their way around the huge castle had become easier as they settled in. Still, there were times when they'd find themselves a little… lost.
A few days after the twins' spectacle, for which they'd been caught and punished rather soundly (and by a rather unsettling cheerful Professor Snape), the trio decided they needed to stretch their legs a bit by wandering the castle. So far on their travels, they had discovered the trophy room which had been an interesting find and quite a few little shortcuts. They'd been exploring what they thought was another one, but it had let out in a section of castle they didn't recognise.
Hermione frowned, displeased. "We need a map," she muttered.
Ron considered the thought. "There is some kind of mapping charm, but I don't know how well it would work on a place like Hogwarts. We'd have to have some kind of basic map or schematic first before we started, I think."
"Well, why not?" Harry grinned. "I'm sure we could find something to build off of. We could work on it in our copious amounts of spare time," he joked.
They continued on their way, winding their way back to a more familiar area of the castle, bouncing ideas back and forth all the while.
Christmas at Hogwarts was, in a word, fantastical. The teachers turned the castle into a Christmas Wonderland and the elves went all out for the Christmas Day feast. Harry, Ron and Hermione had even been surprised to find presents at the end of their beds when they woke; they decided to gather everything and sit around the pot-bellied stove in their lounge area to have their first Christmas together. Not surprisingly, they had bought very thoughtful gifts for each other; but they had also been gifted numerous little tokens from other first years they attended Social with; and they'd each been given a small, rough carving from Hagrid. Hermione received a letter from her parents informing her of a cash bonus in her account, Ron found three small packages - one each from Bill, Charlie and his father - and aside from a small care package the Presul sisters sent Harry, he also found an anonymous gift.
The boy frowned at it. "I wonder who this is from?"
His friends gathered close. They inspected the strange-looking gift, that was wrapped in old fashioned cloth instead of paper, and Hermione pointed out a note attached to the package. Harry pulled it off to read it.
"Your Father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well," he read aloud.
"…that's a funny message," Ron commented dubiously.
Harry exchanged looks with his friends, but really, he couldn't do very much about finding out where it came from. He could, however…
Harry concentrated his power through his hands, sending it out over the package and then back to himself, using it like echolocation to ensure there was no foreign or harmful magic in place. His friends watched in awe - they were getting a lot better sensing magic now that they were fully aware of their own magical cores - and Harry considered the information he received back from his scan. There was something magical inside - very powerful, and very old… other than that, it was perfectly safe.
"Well," Harry shrugged. "Let's see what it is." With that, he opened the present.
After a full day of excitement and fun, where the three Slytherin friends had, for once, been able to be the children they were instead of the very mature nearly-adults they were already growing into, they stumbled back into their dormitory buzzed yet exhausted.
They had eaten good food, lots of sweets, played games with older students - who for once, didn't seem to hold their house against them - even participated in their first snowball fight! Before dinner, Flitwick had convinced them to play some Christmas Carols in the Great Hall and they'd had fun playing music together and ignoring how many people had stopped in just to listen. They also firmly ignored the constipated look on their head-of-house' face and the calculating look in the eye of the elderly headmaster.
Now they were home, they quickly prepared for bed and dropped between the sheets. Sleep, however, was elusive for all three.
Hermione sighed. "Too much sugar," she muttered.
The boys groaned in agreement.
The rich food had been so good going down, too.
Harry sat up. Perhaps it was the lingering sugar rush; perhaps the good feelings remaining of a day of play. Either way, he felt like making mischief. "Why don't we try out that present?" He suggested quietly. "We've always wanted a look into the restricted section of the library - we could at least peek at what they're hiding in there!"
It was testament, perhaps, to the spirit of the day that neither of his friends objected. In fact, they both had a conspiring gleam in their eye. Ron grinned. "I'm up for it," he agreed.
Hermione bit her lip, then gave up the pretence. "Me too," she shared Ron's grin.
Harry pulled out the invisibility cloak that had, apparently, belonged to his father. It was large enough to cover Hagrid and keep him out of sight; plenty of room for all three tiny first years to fit under together and not be seen. They made their way out of Slytherin territory without being seen or heard; using the cloak they continued onwards towards the library. It was so late most of the teachers had given up patrolling by now, they didn't meet anyone on their journey. Once they made it to the restricted section of the library Harry concentrated and used his magic to cast what he'd named the paint-spell on all three of them - it certainly felt like they had been covered in paint, magic tingling down over their heads and down over their bodies.
"Okay, I won't be able to keep this up for long, and we can still be heard," Harry cautioned.
The silhouettes left behind by his friends nodded and they split up to peruse the shelves. Common sense told them not to touch anything, but as they flitted from shelf to shelf, they were each becoming more and more excited about the magic they could learn from these tomes.
They were interrupted in their exploration by a loud sound from outside the library. The three Slytherins exchanged glances, realising their camouflage had worn off and quickly pulled the cloak back over themselves. As they carefully retreated from the library, they came across the perpetrators: Ron's twin brothers, running amok. At that moment, Professor Snape came swooping down the corridor, honing in on the noise like a bloodhound. They flattened themselves against the wall as he went past, then slipped inside an empty classroom as he descended on the Gryffindor miscreants. The three kept still and silent, listening to the hullabaloo in the hallway outside. Thankfully Snape had his culprits, and quickly spirited them away much to their stringent protests.
All three let out a relieved sigh.
Taking off the cloak for a breath of fresh air, Harry said, "let's just take a moment." His friends agreed. That had been close.
Hermione glanced around the room. "Look at that!" She was pointing to a large mirror.
"Careful," Ron cautioned. "It might be in Hogwarts, but objects like this can be enchanted with all sorts of effects."
Gingerly, the three friends came close enough to examine the mirror.
It was obviously old and ornate, with clawed feet and a gold frame. Across the top, words were inscribed - but not any sort of words they understood.
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
"…weird," Harry muttered.
"Don't look in it yet," Ron said. "Not until we know what that says."
His friends agreed.
This was interesting.
Continuandum…
A/N:
1) My brother and I started home-schooling (distance ed) the year I was due to enter high-school. This is how we were enrolled.
2) Have no clue about British high-school subjects etc (or even how the system works…) – sorry if this is all wrong! Anyone want to help out, feel free to message me, thanks!
3) Here we see a throw-back to JKR's Ron – smart but lazy…
4) And we see here the bond between their wands affecting them...
5) I leave the form of their revenge up to your imagination!
Please note that anything you recognise from cannon belongs to JKR, who is a very talented writer. Thanks and Enjoy!