Having learned about Nicolas Flamel and the Philosopher’s Stone from Will, Harry and his friends spiraled into full-blown worry.
Convinced Snape meant to hand the Stone straight to Voldemort, they scrambled for some kind of plan.
“If you ask me, we ought to protect the Stone ourselves,” Ron offered after a moment’s thought.
“Or better yet, just take it.
Easier to guard something once you actually have it.”
Harry nodded along.
“Ron’s right.
We should get to it first.”
“Are you two completely mad?” Hermione stared at them, disbelief written across her face.
“Harry’s the one who beat You-Know-Who once already, remember?
Seems like the safest place for it might be with him.” Ron’s eyes slid away as he said it.
“That’s not remotely the point,” Hermione shot back, glaring at Ron.
“How exactly do you plan to get past that dog guarding the trapdoor?
It could swallow either of you whole, and then it’ll still be sitting there deciding whether the rest of us look like dessert!”
“Harry, it’s too dangerous.
You’d be walking straight toward your own death.
There’s no realistic way past that thing.” Neville’s words landed a bit harsher than he probably intended.
“Don’t be dramatic, Neville.
We’ll figure something out.” Ron frowned.
“We just need to beat Snape to it, that’s all.”
“Maybe we ask Hagrid how to get past the dog,” Harry suggested, though Ron shot the idea down immediately.
“Harry, Hagrid’s still furious with us.
He won’t tell us anything right now, and he still refuses to believe Snape’s capable of hurting you.”
“I mean once he’s calmed down.
He tends to let things slip when he’s in a good mood, remember how this all started?” Harry’s point landed, and everyone silently acknowledged that keeping secrets had never been Hagrid’s strong suit.
“We could send him a Christmas present.
Might put him in a better mood.”
“What does Hagrid even like, though?” Neville admitted he barely knew the man.
“Magical creatures.
Anything to do with them,” Harry said with total confidence.
“We find him something along those lines.”
“I’ll write to Charlie, see if he’ll send some spare dragon scales.” Ron thought of his older brother out in Romania, elbow-deep in dragon research most days.
“Ron, dragon scales are genuinely valuable, useful in alchemy, potion-making, all sorts of specialized work.
Are you sure he’d actually send you any?” Hermione’s question gave Ron pause.
He honestly had no idea about any of that, only that Charlie worked with dragons in some capacity.
“I can cover the cost, whatever it ends up being.
Plenty of Galleons sitting in my vault.” Harry’s mind, honestly, stayed fixed mostly on stopping Voldemort, the gift felt secondary at best.
“Actually, I think we should just tell Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said.
Neville, standing beside her, nodded quickly.
“I…
yeah, I agree.
We can’t handle something like this ourselves.”
“Hermione, what are you even suggesting?” Ron stared at her, baffled.
“That’s basically admitting we snuck into the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor.”
Hermione looked between the two boys, dead serious.
“Don’t be ridiculous.
What happens if we actually try to stop Snape and fail?
He’s a grown wizard, and a professor besides.
None of you stand a real chance against him alone.
We tell Dumbledore.
He’s the one person Voldemort’s genuinely afraid of, remember that.
If we actually want to stop whatever’s being planned, this goes to him.”
She held their gaze firmly, waiting for someone to argue.
…
Harry stood outside the Headmaster’s office, throat dry.
Would Dumbledore dock points from Gryffindor over the corridor?
Would he even believe any of it, that Snape might be after the Stone?
For a moment, he genuinely questioned whether his friends had picked the wrong person to send.
On top of everything, he didn’t even know the password.
What if Dumbledore wasn’t in today, or didn’t return for hours?
Would he just have to wait outside all day?
Thankfully, the wait didn’t last long.
The door swung open, and Dumbledore’s eyes flickered with genuine surprise behind his half-moon spectacles.
“Harry?
What brings you here?”
Harry swallowed hard.
“Professor, I wanted to talk to you.
About the Philosopher’s Stone.”
An hour later, Harry emerged and relayed the outcome to his waiting friends.
“Professor Dumbledore says Snape’s completely trustworthy.
There’s no way he’d try to steal the Stone.”
The group exchanged uncertain glances.
Ron even muttered, half to himself, “You don’t think the professor’s finally losing it, do you?”
Whatever thread they’d been pulling on had apparently run out.
…
Will, for his part, stayed well clear of the whole affair, focused entirely on grinding experience day after day.
[You have used a spell multiple times.
Proficiency increased.
Spell Mastery Experience +1]
[You have acquired new knowledge of Curses.
Curses Experience +1]
[You have acquired new knowledge of Dark Magic.
Dark Magic Experience +1]
[You have acquired new knowledge of Charms.
Charms Experience +1]
The past month had passed quietly for him.
By the time Christmas approached, he’d leveled up twice more, pushing Curse Studies to Level 2 and Herbology to Level 3.
More significantly, he’d farmed a substantial amount of Rune experience, bringing that skill to Level 2 (100/200).
Another bonus ability wasn’t far off now.
[Potions LV3 (99/300)]
(LV2 Bonus: Keen Eyes, you can more easily read the state of a potion as it changes; LV3 Bonus: Potion Yield, increases the output of your potions by 5%)
[Curse Studies LV2 (79/200)]
(LV2 Bonus: Curse Resistance, increases your resistance to curses by 10%)
…
Amid all this quiet, Christmas crept steadily closer, and the rest of the school buzzed with restless anticipation for the break ahead.
One morning at breakfast, an owl swooped into the Great Hall and dropped a letter directly onto Will’s plate of fried eggs.
Will peeled the slightly grease-stained envelope open, his first piece of mail since arriving at Hogwarts.
The opening line alone was enough to make his eyebrows shoot up.
My dear son,
I already know you’ve gone off to study at Hogwarts…