~ Nicolas Flamel ~
For the rest of the Christmas holidays, the Invisibility Cloak stayed folded on the bottom of his large trunk.
Harry wished he could just as easily shake out what he'd seen in the mirror, but he couldn't.
Hermione, who returned on the last day of vacation, saw things very differently.
She wavered between horror and disappointment.
Horror at the thought that Harry had slipped out of bed and roamed the castle three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.
They'd almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library volume, though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere.
After the holidays ended, they started searching again and leafing through the books during the ten-minute breaks.
After a few days, Ophelia, Louisa and Stella noticed that Lucy was more silent than usual.
They spoke to their best friend about it and tried to distract Lucy a bit.
"Unfortunately, we didn't find out anything about Flamel either," reported Louisa.
"My uncle didn't want to tell me anything, just like Ophelia's Dad or Stellas Parents."
When Lucy just nodded absently, Ophelia and Louisa looked at each other worried.
"Luc, are you alright?" asked Louisa.
The black-haired girl looked at her best friends. She thought for a moment before telling Stella and Leyla about the mirror.
The two looked at her. Lucy didn't like the pitying looks they gave her.
Lucy first wanted to change the subject and tell Leyla that she had snuck out again. However, she decided against it.
Before they could continue the conversation, Harry called them over, Ron and Hermione.
Lucy, Ohpelia and Louisa sat down with the others.
Keeping his voice low so no one in the area could hear him, Harry told the others about Snape's sudden and sinister desire to be a Quidditch umpire.
"Don't play," Hermione said at once.
"Say you're ill," Ron said.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.
"Really break your leg," said Ron.
"Ron, what the f… fluffy duffy," Lucy said, looking at Ron perplexed.
"I can't," said Harry. "We don't have a reserve Seeker. If I pass, Gryffindor can't play at all."
"Seriously? Are we ignoring the fact that Ron just suggested you break your leg?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
~~
At that moment, Neville fell headfirst into the common room.
How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was a mystery to them, for his legs were clamped together and they knew immediately it had to be the Leg Clamp Curse.
Apparently, he had hopped all the way up Gryffindor Tower like a rabbit.
Everyone felt like laughing but Hermione, who jumped up and cast the counter curse.
Neville's legs snapped apart and, shaking, he scrambled to his feet.
"What happened?" Hermione asked him, dragging him over to where the others sat.
Louisa had stood up to make room for Neville and squeezed into a chair next to Ophelia.
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he’d been looking for someone to practice that on."
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"
"She's right, tell her," Louisa agreed.
Neville shook his head.
"I don't want more trouble," he murmured.
Lucy stood up and hugged Neville.
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."
Lucy gave Ron a sideways glare.
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," he sobbed.
Lucy hugged Neville tighter.
"That's not true. You're brave in your own way."
Harry rummaged in the pockets of his robes and pulled out a chocolate frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas.
He handed it to Neville, who seemed about to burst into tears.
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where’s Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."
"Excuse me–"
"Sorry, Lucy."
Neville's lips twitched in a faint smile as he unwrapped the frog.
"Thanks, you two… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you Harry?"
Neville walked out and Harry looked at the famous wizard trading card.
"Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever -"
He caught his breath. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked at his friends.
"I’ve found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here - listen to this: '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'!"
Hermione jumped up. She hadn't been this excited since getting her first homework grades.
"Stay here!" she said, running up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange puzzled looks when she came flying down the stairs again, a huge old book in her arms.
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione motioned for him to be quiet until she checked something and, muttering to herself, began flipping through the pages hastily.
Finally, she found what she was looking for.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Are we allowed to speak now?" Ron said grumpily.
Hermione ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered excitedly, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
It didn't quite have the effect she expected.
"The what?" Harry and Ron asked.
"Oh, honestly, don’t you two read? Look - read that, there."
She pushed the book towards them, and the others read:
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There have been many reports of the Sorcerer’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).
"See?" Hermione said when everyone had finished reading. "The dog must be guarding Flamel’s Sorcerer’s Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they’re friends and he knew someone was after it, that’s why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it."
"And no wonder we didn't find Flamel in Younger Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly the youngest when he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"
The next morning, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, they copied the various ways to treat werewolf bites from the chalkboard.
And it wasn't just Harry and Ron who were still talking about what they would do with a philosopher's stone if they had one.
Lucy and Louisa didn't have to know exactly what to do with the stone but agreed to buy lots of candy with the money they earned if they had the stone.
~~
The following afternoon his sister and friends wished him luck for the game and Harry knew they were wondering if they would ever see him alive again.
That wasn't exactly comforting.
As Harry pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, he barely heard Wood's words of encouragement.
Lucy and her friends had meanwhile found a place in the stands next to Neville, who didn't understand why they looked so grim and worried and why they had brought their wands to the game.
Harry had no idea they had secretly practiced the Leg Clamp Curse.
The idea had come from Malfoy, who had tried it on Neville, and now they were ready to throw it at Snape if he made the slightest attempt to harm Harry.
"Now, don’t forget, it’s Locomotor Mortis," Hermione murmured as Ron slid his wand up his sleeve.
"I know," Ron hissed. "Don't nag"
Down in the dressing room, Wood had pulled Harry aside.
"Don’t want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it’s now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."
"The whole school’s out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore’s come to watch!"
Harry’s heart did a somersault.
"Dumbledore?" he said, rushing to the door to see him with his own eyes.
Fred was right. That silver beard could only belong to Dumbledore. Harry could have laughed out loud with relief.
Now he was safe. Snape wouldn't even dare try to harm him now that Dumbledore was watching.
Maybe that's why Snape looked so angry as the teams ran onto the pitch. Ron had noticed that too.
"I’ve never seen Snape look so mean," he explained to Hermione.
"Look - they're off. Ouch!"
Someone had hit Ron in the back of the head.
It was Malfoy.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle with a wide grin.
"Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"
"Shut up, Malfoy," Lucy hissed.
Ophelia and Louisa stood next to Lucy.
Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty throw because George Weasley hit him with a Bludger.
Hermione, her fingers crossed in her lap, kept raising her eyebrows at Harry, who was circling like a hawk over the game, watching for the Snitch.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy said in a loud voice a few minutes later as Snape awarded the Hufflepuffs another penalty, this time for no reason whatsoever.
"It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains."
Lucy pulled out her wand. Before any teacher could notice, Louisa grabbed Lucy's wand and Ophelia held her back.
Neville blushed but turned in his seat and faced Malfoy.
"I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.
Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes off the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."
"Longbottom, if brains were gold, you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something"
Malfoy was lucky that Ophelia and Louisa were still holding Lucy, otherwise Lucy would have charged at him
Ron's nerves were already on edge with fear for Harry.
"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -"
"Guys!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry-"
"What? Where?"
Harry had suddenly gone into a breath-taking dive, and a groan and cheer emanated from the crowd.
Hermione stood up, fingers crossed in her mouth, and Harry shot a bullet toward the floor.
"You’re in luck, Weasley, Potter’s obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.
This was too much for Ron.
Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, pinning him to the ground.
Neville hesitated, then climbed over the back of his seat to help Ron.
Ophelia and Louisa would have liked to intervene, but they still had to hold Lucy.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione yelled, jumping in her seat to see Harry barrel straight for Snape
She didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling under her seat, nor the moans and screams that came from the knot of Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.
Up in the air, Snape spun his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet dart past him, missing him by inches - in a moment Harry had levelled his broomstick again; His arm raised in triumph, he held the Snitch tightly in his hand.
The spectators went wild; that had to be a record, me. anyone could remember the Snark ever being caught so quickly.
"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game’s over! Harry’s won! We’ve won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" Hermione yelled, dancing around in her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front of her.
Harry jumped off his broom a meter off the ground. He couldn't believe it. He had done it - the game was over; it had lasted barely five minutes.
Gryffindors came running onto the field and not far away he saw Snape land, white-faced and pursed-lips - then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at the smiling face of Dumbledore.
"Well done," Dumbledore said quietly so only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven’t been brooding about that mirror… been keeping busy… excellent…"
~~
Sometime later, Harry left the locker room alone to put his Nimbus Two Thousand back in the broom closet.
He couldn't remember ever being happier. Now he had really done something to be proud of - no one could now say he was just a famous name.
The evening air had never smelled so sweet.
He walked across the damp grass and saw again, as if through a veil of happiness, the last hour: the Gryffindors running to take him on their shoulders; in the distance Hermione leaping into the air, his sister doing a happy dance and Ron cheering him on with a bloodied nose.
Harry had reached the shed. He leaned against the wooden door, the windows of which lit up red in the setting sun.
Gryffindor in the lead. He had done it; he had told Snape.. Speaking of Snape...
A hooded figure hurried down the castle steps.
Apparently, she didn't want to be seen, because she walked briskly in the direction of the forbidden forest.
Harry watched her go, his recent victory slipping from his mind.
He recognized the figure's predatory gait: Snape sneaking into the forbidden forest while the others were at dinner - what was going on?
~~
"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione said.
"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He’s still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone’s waiting for you in the common room, we’re having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens.”
“Never mind that now,” said Harry breathlessly. “Let’s find an empty room, you wait ’til you hear this…”
He made sure Peeves wasn’t inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he’d seen and heard.
"So, we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape’s trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell’s ‘hocus pocus’ - I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through -”
"So, you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm.
"It’ll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.
~~~~
In the evening the Gryffindors celebrated the win and, of course, Lucy, Ophelia, Stella and Louisa were invited.
"I have something to tell you guys," Ophelia said when the girls sat back down by the fireplace.
"You know that I never talk about my Mom," she murmured.
"You said that she left you and your Dad years ago–"
"Yeah, well, technically… she never existed. I don't have a Mom, I have two Dads."
The brown-haired girl looked down at her hands nervously.
"So, your other Dad left?" Lucy asked.
Ophelia looked around to check if no one was listening to them.
"Not in the way you may think. He's in prison. Dad… he never talks about it. I don't know what he did… but it must be something really, really bad. That's the reason I don't use my full name."
"What is your full name?", Lucy wanted to know and hoped it was okay that she asked.
"My full name is Ophelia Lupin-Black."
I Guess it's my turn now, Lucy thought, and straightened up again. As a result, the black-haired witch now had the attention of her best friends.
"I have a middle name that I don't use," said Lucy. "My full name is Lucy Cassiopeia Potter."