Chapter Nineteen
"The Philosophers Stone," muttered Harry to himself. He stood under the shadows of the library, in the dark, deep in thought. "It certainly fits. An object that offers eternal life is invaluable and needs powerful methods of protection. Even Fluffy," he said darkly. Hermione took a seat at the small table and placed her book gently on its surface.
She couldn't believe that after all this searching the answer had been right under her nose the whole time. "There hasn't been any sign of the Stone in over sixty years. Nicholas |Flamel himself is over six hundred years old. It seems that they have been trying to lessen the knowledge of the Stone. Well it's quite obvious now that someone is searching for it. And the creators are aware of the attempts on it."
They stayed deep in thoughtful silence for a while until Harry suggested heading back to the confines of Gryffindor Tower. "Madam Pince looks a bit suspicious of us. I think the knowledge we hold is something the teachers or any members of staff shouldn't know about." Hermione agreed and they made their way back to the common room. Harry read through the passage on Flamel once again trying to find anything new. As he comprehended the effects of the Philosophers Stone he became aware of how dangerous the situation was becoming. He suspected Snape of attempting to kill him, could this be the reason why?
Snape had talked about the glory of potions and how some potions could even stopper death.
Hermione was watching him from over by the fireplace. His keen green eyes were once again zooming across the page, he was deep in concentration and she knew not to disturb him. He still looked tired and she wondered whether he had achieved any sleep the previous night.
"Do you still think it was Snape who tried to kill me on the day of the Quidditch match?" Harry asked.
Hermione thought for a moment. `As much as I'd like to think differently, I saw Snape and he was definitely jinxing your broom. There is a good chance that it is Snape who is trying to steal the Stone. We better watch out for him. He might already think we know, hence the attempted murder," she said finally. Harry moved over to stand in front of the fireplace, both hands in his pockets. "The stone was brought to Hogwarts for protecting. I bet the teachers are aware of its whereabouts. There is a chance that they had a hand in protecting it," he suggested.
"That is unless the castle itself is supposed to be the protection. But I think you're right in guessing the teachers have a bigger role to play. It was brought here after it was nearly stolen from Gringotts after all," said Hermione.
"Well," said Harry moving over to the couch and plopping down onto it, his hands remaining in his pockets "I guess we'll have to keep a closer watch on Professor Snape," he said with a wry smile.
The next day the students arrived back at Hogwarts and the castle was again buzzing with the voices of hundreds of excited students. Most people had had a delightful Christmas and came back with heavier trunks as they had more possessions. Harry was glad to hear Ron had had a wonderful time also. Ron and his brothers had had run of the house. Percy it turned out had ended up locking himself in his room in order to escape the twins, while their sister mainly stayed in her own room. On Christmas day, Ron's parents had returned with their older brother Charlie so that it was truly a family occasion.
Harry and Hermione had told Ron about the Philosophers Stone the second day of his return. They had felt obliged to do so as he was there when they found out about Fluffy and he also knew the truth about Snape. He was shocked at first but also intrigued by the effects of the Philosophers Stone. `Eternal life and turns any metal into gold. Anybody would want that,' he said astonished. He accompanied them down to Hagrid's one evening after a particularly bad Potions lesson in which Snape had nearly slipped on a potion Neville had let drip from his cauldron and in retaliation he had taken thirty points from Gryffindor. This was crucial as the House Cup was getting very close.
Harry knocked loudly on Hagrid's large wooden door. There was some shuffling from inside the cabin and Harry could almost see Fang scratching the door trying to get out. Hagrid opened the door widely holding onto a struggling Fang who was franticly trying to reach them. "Its bin a while since ye all came down to see me," Hagrid said greeting them. When they had taken their seats at the round table and Hagrid had poured four mugs of tea, Harry decided it was time to ask about the Stone. He cleared his throat nervously, not knowing how Hagrid would react. "Hagrid, we know about the Philosophers Stone." Hagrid looked up at them over the rim of his mug. He then sighed despondently. "Well after me slip up, it probably wasn't that difficult. Listen to me, its bin protected…… and protected well," added Hagrid. He seemed to find this information comforting. But Harry wanted to know what was involved in the Stones defense.
"So…apart from Fluffy what else is there?" asked Harry hopefully. Hagrid looked at them suspiciously, seemingly sizing them up. He then took a long gulp of tea and set his mug on the table. "Well, a few teachers added something to the safeguard of the Stone. Me, I gave Fluffy. Then there was Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor Quirrell….Dumbledore of course and Professor Snape," he finished, obviously pleased to have remembered them all. Ron had a look of pure shock on his face. "Snape. That psychopath is guarding the Stone." Hagrid heaved a great sigh of frustration. `Ah, yer not still goin on abou' Snape. Listen he guardin' it. He aint going to steal it."
Harry had already guessed that Snape had something to do with guarding of the Stone. "What did the teachers do?" he asked. He wanted the most information he could attain from Hagrid as he was obviously in a very good mood. "Spells and enchantments," he said gruffly as if he didn't want to stay on the subject too long.
Later that evening as the sky turned a velvety blue color, Harry and Hermione sat at a table in the Gryffindor common room talking quietly about what Hagrid had said. Ron sat with Seamus, Dean and Neville in front of the fire. Other students were playing chess or gobstones. "Snape probably already knows about the other enchantments," said Harry. Once again Hermione thought that he was speaking to himself more than anyone. "I don't think anyone but us suspect him. Right now we're the only protection that the Stone has." He turned his head so he was looking her straight in the eyes. His gaze seemed to give her strength and take it away at the same time. "Do you want to continue trying to impede Snape? It will probably get a lot more dangerous in the following months. It seems he is only planning his actions at the moment."
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Of course I want to stop him, Harry. But you're right. It will get dangerous. But for now there isn't much to do. I mean we can't go and inform a teacher. I suppose we could monitor his interactions with the helping teachers,' she suggested. Harry thought about Hermione's words. After a few seconds of silence he spoke but in a whisper. "There might be some tension between Professor Quirrell and Snape."
He told her of the day near the beginning of the year when Quirrell had interrupted Snape's class. "Snape was really annoyed. It doesn't fit. Potions classes get interrupted quite a lot because students want ingredients for other teachers. Why was he so annoyed at Quirrell that day in particular?" Harry posed this question and then remembered Quirrell's contorted face of venom as he walked in the door. "There's more to Quirrell than meets the eye," he said darkly. "What do you mean? Do you think they're working together? Hermione said confusedly. "I don't think so. Quirrell doesn't seem the type," she said decidedly.
But as Harry climbed into bed that night, he wondered whether Quirrell was the `type'. He was pretty sure that they weren't working together. Maybe both of them wanted the Philosophers Stone for themselves. It didn't seem like an object to be shared.
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January passed by without event. The snow melted and the black lake unfroze itself. The progressive ripples of the Giant Squid could be seen making their way to the edge of the lake. The Forbidden Forest took on its dark demeanor, shedding the snow from its long branches and once again becoming a menacing presence on the Hogwarts grounds. February arrived bringing with it gusty winds from the south. Leaves from the Forbidden Forest were blown to the edges of the castle and Harry often found himself wondering silently, what lay in the depths of the dark forest that passed it as forbidden.
Harry and Hermione had held their word and unknowingly kept an eye out for Snape. From observation he had stopped all dealings with the Stone. They found nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. Ron had often helped but after a month he had given up, seemingly convinced that Snape had stopped whatever he was doing. Hermione seemed to be returning to her normal routine before they had suspected Snape. Harry wasn't really upset by this. She cared very much for her studies and was already fretting about their end of year exams. They returned to spending more time in the library than any other students, pouring over their text books and other minor study of subjects that they would take in the future.
But Harry didn't end his watch of Snape. He also remained wary of Professor Quirrell. Whoever the infiltrator was, Harry was sure it was either one of them. He still felt that there was something deeper involved though. A shadow weighed on his mind about the safety of the Philosophers Stone. Something was keeping the thief at bay, but he didn't know whether he was hindered or whether he was waiting.
He hadn't done anything about his Judo training since he had found the book. The Philosophers Stone preoccupied his mind for much thought. But at the beginning of February Harry received news that nearly drove all thought from his mind. He had been finishing a Charms essay about the unlocking charm when Oliver Wood came running into the library, spotted him, and made a beeline for his table. He seemed to be thoroughly upset by something. `Listen Harry, we're going to have to set up more training sessions before the match on Saturday." Harry knew something else was bothering Oliver. `Why?' asked Harry suspiciously. `Because I just heard Snape is referring the match. And it's obvious all his decisions will go Hufflepuffs way." Hermione gasped. `Snape." She gave Harry a horrified look. Harry remained silent, wondering why Snape had suddenly become interested enough in Quidditch to decide to referee in a match.
Oliver left their table and made his way out of the silent library. "Harry, you can't play. He's doing this for a reason. What if he tries to jinx your broom again?" Hermione said worriedly. Harry thought about his options, there didn't seem to be many. "If he suspects us of knowing, my not playing would just confirm his beliefs," he paused and seemed to fall deep in thought, then "I'm playing this match."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We've been watching him for over a month now. And he hasn't done anything. Maybe he is getting ready. Maybe something will happen at the match. Oh! I just don't know," she cried before slumping back into her chair with a deep sigh. Harry finished his essay quickly and after convincing Hermione that he would live through the match on Saturday, he left the silence of the library and went back to his dormitory. He grabbed his Judo book from his small bedside locker and shoved it into his bag/. If he was going to learn, now was the best time to do so. It was only when he had entered the corridor outside the Fat Lady's portrait that he realized he had no idea where he was going to practice. As he was contemplating the Quidditch pitch, a scraping noise could be heard coming from the other end of the corridor. A bookcase was leaving the solid wall and a small arch could be now seen where the bookcase had stood. The Weasley twins strolled out from behind the bookcase talking animatedly. The bookcase moved itself into its previous position. From looking at them, Harry guessed that they were used to taking this passage, he had heard from Ron that the twins knew their way around Hogwarts and also they knew many secret passages and previously unknown rooms. Harry decided to ask whether they could suggest anywhere with a sizeable amount of space.
He ran up to them and they both looked up surprised. "Harry!" said Fred, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulders. "How are you?" Harry was quite surprised at their welcome. `Er…fine thanks," he said. "Listen…I heard you two were quite knowledgeable of the layout of Hogwarts," he said, trying to sound complimentary. Both the twins smiled with pride. "Why...yes we are,' said George. "And you know some secret passageways and possibly some secret rooms," continued Harry, praying the twins would take the bait. The twins looked deviously at each other. `Well Harry…what kind of place are you looking for,' whispered Fred. "A room with a large amount of space. Not huge, just…" he paused wondering how to proceed without telling them what he was doing, "I'm practicing spells," he said finally.
The twins fell silent, going through the map of Hogwarts in their heads. "Well…it seems to me, you don't want anyone to know what you're doing," said George with a grin. Harry nodded his head. Once again the twins looked at each other. They then dragged Harry by the arms over to the bookcase, waited for it to open, and then walked in. The bookcase again closed back over the wall. They were in complete silence now. Harry looked down the passageway. It was dark and there was no light of a flame to illuminate the passage. "This here passage," said Fred motioning to the darkness with a wave of his hand "leads up to the seventh floor. It isn't that far but it is harder to manoeuvre in, while in the dark. Its exit is a tapestry and the password to get back down is `Otinate'. Now on the seventh floor, there is a room. I doubt many know of its existence, which is why we are suggesting it to you. We like to call it the Room of Requirement."
"You see," explained George "the room isn't always there but when you need it, it will be. When you enter the room, it changes to suit your needs. For example, a few weeks ago, when running from Filch we ran into it and it took on the appearance of a broom cupboard. If you wanted say…" he paused trying to think, "to hide something, well it would probably give you a place to hide whatever it is you wanted to hide," he finished with a look that seemed as if he had just confused himself. Fred rolled his eyes at George "Nice explanation, idiot. Okay listen…the entrance to the room is opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The trick is to walk past the wall three times, concentrating hard on what you want the room to be. Then all you have to do is walk through the door,' he finished simply.
Harry thanked them as they made their way out past the large bookcase. He then lit the tip of his wand and walked into the darkness. Form the little light that radiated from the end of his wand Harry could tell the passage walls were cut from roughly hewn stone. Often a piece of hard rock jutted out from the wall so that Harry would have to bend low and walk under it or else climb over it. Soon he came to some steps. He lifted his arm and the light bounced off the roof of the passage which was now sloping upwards. Harry began to climb the narrow stairway. The steps were broad and shallow and Harry counted a hundred of them until he reached a point where the ground levelled out. He then walked through the tapestry and found himself in a dimly lit corridor. There wasn't a sound to be heard and he doubted whether anyone else was on this floor. He replaced his wand in his pocket and walked steadily through the corridor looking for the tapestry. He found it easily as it was enormous. Then he turned and looked at the wall opposite him which stared blankly back.
He did just as Fred had told him to and repeated the words "I need somewhere to practice Judo" in his head. But at the back of his mind he had doubts. He kept wondering whether there was any point trying to learn without anyone to advise or help him. When he looked back at the wall he found a large wooden door. It had a jet black keyhole and a round handle. Harry slowly pushed the door open and entered the room. He gasped at the sight before him. It wasn't really a room. It was more of an arena. White mats lay on the floor. Four wooden pillars connected with thick wooden beams that crossed over an arch in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were smooth and as white as snow. The door Harry had entered was the only entrance or exit to the arena. It creaked back into its original position and shut. Harry turned to look at the door and found an ornate black key in the keyhole. He turned it and it clicked ominously. He walked around the arena once, and then went to leave his bag in the corner. After he slid the bag off his shoulder and onto the ground he turned and nearly jumped out of his skin from fright.
There, standing directly in the centre of the arena was a dark skinned man. His eyes were shut and Harry noticed he wasn't breathing. The man wore a blue judogi which Harry recognised from what he had seen in Judo books. Harry took a tentative step toward the man and still the man did not move a muscle. Now Harry stood right in front of him, in plain view. The man still would not move. Harry decided to be brave and stretched out his arm in order to touch the man's shoulder. But as his hand reached the jacket it went right through the man. The man seemed to flicker in and out of sight and Harry retracted his arm. Harry stood breathing deeply looking at the silent figure of the man. He wondered whether the man was a holographic image. If he is, he isn't going to be much help with training thought Harry. He then got a sudden idea.
He balled his hand into a fist, took a deep breath and aimed a punch at the head of the man. Immediately the man came to life. His eyes sprung open and his arm moved so quickly that it caught Harry's fist. He then pulled back Harry's fist and aimed a side kick at Harry's stomach, which sent Harry into the air. He crashed down onto the mat and rolled over so that he could look at the man. He was shocked to find him in his initial position. He picked himself up off the mat and wondered to himself what he was supposed to do. Bow he thought. He walked cautiously up to the man and bowed. The man copied Harry and then took a step back from him as if preparing to fight. Harry looked down at his clothing, astonished to find he was wearing a white judogi. Harry took a step forward and his opponent grappled him. He then fell backwards onto the mat so Harry was thrown head over heels and landed sprawled onto the mat. The man was already on his feet.
Reflexes said a voice in Harry's head. Harry stood up quickly and wished that he had his other sense. He wasn't expecting it to work and when he felt the very air of the room seem to slow down he stood rooted to the spot, shocked. Was this magic? Then he watched as his opponent went to grasp him. Harry ducked under the man's outstretched arms. Then from the side Harry grabbed the man's shoulder and placed his foot directly behind the man's. He then pushed the man who fell back over Harry's legs and slammed into the ground with force. Harry flushed with success didn't notice the man's legs slide across the padded mat. Harry was swept off his feet and fell to the ground. But he jumped back up just as the man did. His opponent then tried repeatedly to hit Harry but Harry ducked and blocked his attempts. This continued for quite a while and Harry was out of breath by the time his opponent stopped.
He had pushed Harry to the edge of the mat and as soon as Harry's foot had touched the mat the man had immediately appeared again in the centre of the room. Time immediately returned to normal. Harry realised he was back in his school robes. But he was out of breath and also sweaty. His hair was very messy, well messier than it usually was. He straightened his robes and checked that his wand was still in his pocket. He made his way over to his bag, picked it up and threw it over his shoulder which he regretted as he was still in a lot of pain. With one last glance at the now silent figure he left the room, wondering if his training would always be that good. Fine, he had taken a good beating but he also felt as if he had learned something. He would have to thank the twins again for their help.
As soon as he was back in the corridor he realised that he was out of bounds after dark. If Filch caught him, it would be the end of him. He quickly crept down the corridor to the tapestry. "Otinate," he whispered. He ran down the steps and along the passageway. His footsteps echoed in the dim silence but he doubted whether anyone who would hear him, would know where he was. He entered the empty common room and made his way over to the couch. He was absolutely exhausted. He dropped his bag onto the floor and climbed onto the couch. His mind felt like jelly and he seemed to lose focus as he put his head on the armrest. He stared into the kindling fire and soon fell fast asleep.
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