Year 1 - Chapter 27
After the quidditch fiasco, Harry’s life returned to some semblance of normalcy. February passed and the snow melted, giving way to the march colours that now decorated the Hogwart’s grounds. With exams looming, Harry spent all his time in the library, studying by candlelight when necessary. With the stunted start he had to the magical world, Harry felt like he was very behind, and he was beginning to panic now. There was no way he was going to fail this year, risk being expelled and sent back to the Dursley’s.
It was one Saturday night when everything changed. Harry was studying alone in the library. It was not yet past curfew but who would want to be studying on a Saturday, so the library was practically empty. Harry could feel his eyelids drooping, his head falling every few minutes and Harry snapped up quickly every time this happened. After the tenth time, Harry gave up on studying and realised it was time to head back and get a good night’s sleep. So, Harry piled his books into his bag and extinguished the candle that was flickering beside him. Harry sighed heavily and left the library, walking the empty halls back to the common room.
Halfway back, Harry faltered when he heard voices coming from a nearby classroom. Memories of that night at the Christmas break came back it him and Harry’s curiosity got the best of him, all thoughts of his warm bed disappearing. He inched closer to the classroom door and pressed his ear against it, straining to hear what was happening inside.
“I know! I know Master!” A voice pleaded. Harry thought it sounded like the person was in pain. He recognised the voice as Professor Quirrell and Harry’s interest piqued even further.
“Tonight. I’ll get i-it t-tonight! I-I promise. I-I won’t f-fail this t-time. I k-know how to g-get past it. M-Music calms t-the dog.” Professor Quirrell stammered and then suddenly, there was a gasp of pain. Harry flinched at the noise but shook his head before a flashback of himself making the same noise after a round with Uncle Vernon could take hold.
“I-I’m s-sorry Master. T-Tonight.” Quirrell’s voice was strained, and Harry could sense the fear. Sensing the conversation was over, Harry was filled with dread. He remembered that frightening dog he saw, he remembered the terror that overwhelmed him. But whatever dread he felt was usurped by the fear of what may happen. What was Professor Quirrell talking about? What was the dog guarding that Quirrell was after? And who was his master? This invisible master that had a professor cowering in pain and stammering like a frightened child. Harry took off at speed and ran as fast as he could back to the common room.
Breathing heavily, Harry arrived at the portrait hole. He hastily said the password and stumbled through. He stopped for a second, surprised to see Draco sat beside Hermione in one of the many armchairs. Granted, it was not as surprising as it was the first time it happened. Harry stopped before his two friends and tried to catch his breath.
“Harry! What happened?” Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa.
“Quirrel…Dog…Master…Steal something…Tonight…” Harry panted, words stumbling out between breaths.
“Potter, you’re making no sense. Slow down.” Draco drawled, barely looking up from his book. Harry bent over, taking slow, steady breaths to calm himself down.
“Professor Quirrell. I h-heard him t-talking to someone. H-He’s going to s-steal something t-that’s hidden in the s-school. Under t-that dog I saw.” Harry explained, his breath evening out enough for him to talk in proper sentences.
“Now that you are actually making sense, please feel free to elaborate.” Draco said again, now looking up from his book to fix a steely gaze on Harry. Harry began to explain everything that had happened. Both conversations he’d overheard from Quirrell, about the dog and his suspicions and about the mysterious master that Quirrell seemed to answer to.
After he’d finished explaining, Hermione’s face had gone through so many expressions whilst Draco’s had stayed the same throughout.
“Right, well let’s go to Snape. He’ll know what to do.” Hermione suggested. She still lacked trust in Dumbledore, for a reason she was yet to place, so Snape was the next best option. Draco nodded in agreement.
“Granger’s right. Snape will be able to help. Come on. If it’s really happening tonight, then we should go now.” Draco said, standing up and walking out of the common room. Hermione and Harry exchanged glances before hurrying out after Draco.
Running through the halls with only minutes to spare before curfew, it was a race against time to find Snape. They were heading for the dungeons when they ran into the headmaster.
“Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy. What are doing out so late and so close to curfew?” Dumbledore asked, a twinkle in his eye. The trio looked between each other, grasping for a lie.
“We were going back to the common room, Professor. We were studying in the library and realised we’d be late.” Hermione rushed. She knew it was lie, a bad one at that, and anyone would be able to see through it, but she was desperate.
“Well, that is a lie.” Dumbledore said plainly, smiling at the first years. “For one, you are in separate dormitories, and this is not the way to the Gryffindor tower. Secondly, you are all smart enough to not be late somewhere so please, do me the pleasure of not lying to me.” Harry sighed, admitting defeat.
“We were looking for Professor Snape.” He said. Harry did not realise that Dumbledore was the one that erased Hermione and McGonagall’s memories so no one could blame him the trust he had in his headmaster and the words he was about to say.
“Whyever would you be looking for Professor Snape? He is not your head of house, Mr Potter.” Dumbledore asked, smiling mischievously at the trio.
“We were worried that something might be happening tonight.”
“What could be happening tonight that would have three first years so worried?”
“I think Professor Quirrell is trying to steal something that is hidden here.” Harry explained, fiddling with his fingers nervously.
“Why would you think that?” Dumbledore probed, his blue eyes boring into Harry.
“I heard him talking to someone about it. Said he was going to steal it for his master tonight.”
“Ah. Well, Mr Potter. I assure you that the philosopher’s stone is well guarded by many wards, wards that not even Professor Snape could help you with. Don’t worry my boy. The school is perfectly safe.” Dumbledore explained, the twinkle never leaving his eye. His face had a ghost of a smile on it. Hermione watched the interaction with intrigue, but her stomach dropped when the headmaster named the precious thing hiding beneath the school.
“We never said that we knew that it was, Professor. Just that we were worried. We also never said that we were going after it.” Hermione said slowly. Dumbledore smiled at the students again and walked away.
“Have a nice evening.” He called over his shoulder.
Harry broke into a run, not to the dungeons but to the third floor.
“Harry, stop!” Hermione called after him, but Harry did not slow. Draco was running as well, and he stopped Harry eventually, spinning Harry around to face him.
“Harry, stop. You’re being ridiculous.” Draco said sternly, his hand still holding Harry in place.
“I’m not. You h-heard Dumbledore. T-This stone – w-whatever it is – sounds precious and Q-Quirrell is trying t-to steal it. I-I have to s-stop him.” Harry breathed, his hands shaking by his side.
“Harry! Stop being stupid. Don’t you see! Dumbledore manipulated that situation. He wants you to play the hero. You’re giving him what he wants!” Hermione pleaded.
“No, he didn’t. He j-just gave me the i-information I w-was missing!” Harry shouted. He stamped his foot in frustration.
“Great! Now you’re acting like a child.” Draco chided, laughing at Harry.
“Don’t l-laugh at me! I-If you d-don’t want to come then f-fine. I-I’ll do it m-myself.” Harry stormed off, ripping his arm from Draco’s grip.
“Harry, wait.” Hermione sighed, following Harry again. Harry stopped and whirled around. “We will come too. If you insist on doing this, you’re not doing it alone.” Hemione looked to Draco who nodded in resignation.
Now committed, the trio walked through the third floor and entered the room that Harry led them too.
“Y-You ready? Y-You can s-still back out. I-I won’t judge y-you.” Harry whispered, hesitantly. He felt Hermione’s hand slip into his and the friends walked into the dark room, completely oblivious to what they were about to face.