Revised: June 20, 2022

The entire first year is just... so rushed and too much tell and not enough show. So here we are again!

(This was written in one sitting, but I feel better about it than before, so yeah.)

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For the rest of the holidays, Harry kept himself busy. Doing what, he didn't know, but it didn't matter. As long as he did not think about that mirror, he'd be fine.

Honestly.

Harry absentmindedly turned the page without seeing the words. He had been trying to get some studying done, knowing that homework would be piling up again before long, but still his mind wandered.

"You okay?"

Harry raised his head. Ron stood at the end of the table, watching him. "Um, yeah. I'm fine. Honest," he added when Ron just looked skeptical.

"If you say so. I overheard Fred and George talking. They're worried about you."

"Why?"

Ron looked surprised. "You're friends, aren't you?"

"Course we are. But..." Harry trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

Thankfully, Ron seemed to take the hint. "You want a chocolate frog?" He removed one from his pocket. "I still have some from Christmas."

"Madam Pince doesn't like it when there's food in the library," Harry pointed out.

Ron shrugged. "Then just don't open it until you leave."

"Eh, I was about to head back to the common room anyway." Harry accepted it and gathered his things. They walked out together. "So what were your brothers saying?" He knew Fred wouldn't have given away too many details on purpose, but he could've let something slip out.

"Just that you looked distracted. And tired." Ron cast Harry a sidelong glance. "And I don't usually agree with them, but they have a point."

Harry let out a small sigh. "I guess." He went ahead and began eating the chocolate frog. "Dumbledore again," he muttered around a mouthful. He flipped the card over even though he had already read it.

"Yeah, he's pretty popular," said Ron. "The more difficult ones are — oh!"

He was staring at the card with wide eyes.

Harry blinked. "What?"

Ron jumped. "Nothing. I just remembered something."

"Er..."

"Bye! Enjoy the chocolate frog!" Ron took off before Harry could respond.

He blinked again. What in the world? He looked down at the card.

Oh. Nicholas Flamel's name was mentioned on the back. Shoot.

As soon as Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the holidays, Ron dragged her aside.

"I found Nicholas Flamel!"

Hermione gasped. "Where?"

"On the back of a chocolate frog card of Dumbledore," said Ron. "I gave one to Harry and saw his name on the back. Something about dragon blood and alchemy..."

"That's it! Hang on!" Hermione raced up to her dorm and returned with a large book.

"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?" Ron said in disbelief, but Hermione ignored him.

She scanned the pages for a few minutes. At last she found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"What?" Ron leaned forward.

"Nicolas Flamel," Hermione whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

Ron's brow furrowed. "The what?"

"Oh, honestly, don't you read? Look — read that, there."

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?" said Hermione. "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!"

"No wonder Snape is after it!" Ron said. "And Flamel isn't exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

"We need to tell Harry. He'll have to listen to us now!"

"I'm not sure." Ron's voice stopped Hermione in her tracks. "He really respects Snape."

Hermione slumped. "Yeah, he does. But it can't hurt to ask him. Does he know you figured it out?"

"I don't know, probably." There wasn't that much on the card that would have caught his attention.

"Let's go talk to him after dinner," Hermione suggested. "Maybe he'll listen."

She didn't sound as though she believed her own words, but Ron couldn't think of what else to do.

Harry looked between the two, one eyebrow raised. So he had been right about Ron noticing Nicholas Flamel on the card.

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

The Gryffindors exchanged a look that told Harry they hadn't expected enthusiasm at their findings.

"We figured that's why Snape wants the stone. For immortality."

"Right. Look, just because you don't like him doesn't mean he's horrible."

Unless you're Neville Longbottom, he conceded silently. Most people knew Neville was terrified of Snape.

"If you're asking me to help you —" Harry went on.

"No," said Hermione. "Well, yes, but also no. I mean..." She trailed off uncertainly as Harry just looked at her blankly.

Ron nudged her arm. "Come on. We're just wasting time."

Yes, you are, Harry agreed, though he knew Ron meant it in a different way.

He slid past them and went up to the Ravenclaw Tower. He had exams to study for. Ron and Hermione could do whatever.

And whatever was exactly what they did. They must have done something really bad if Gryffindor was now in last place. At least it seemed to deter them from taking any other drastic measure. Both were unusually quiet during class and at mealtimes, keeping their heads low and out of the Philosopher's Stone business.

The days of the exams were extremely hot. Harry felt he did well enough, especially now that Ron and Hermione had backed off from the Stone.

However, after the History of Magic exam, a time when Harry hoped to finally relax, the pair approached him. And by their expressions, Harry wouldn't like whatever they had to say.

"Snape's going to steal the Stone tonight," Ron said very quickly.

"Tonight?" echoed Harry, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, tonight. We're gonna stop him," Ron said. He looked very nervous at the thought, but he didn't falter.

Harry stared. "Look, can't you tell a professor?" Anything to get them to thinking straight.

"We told Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "She didn't believe us."

Harry shook his head. "You can't be serious. You literally lost a hundred points because of this!"

"That had nothing to do with the Stone," Hermione said sharply. She turned to Ron. "Come on., we should go up to the common room. To avoid suspicion."

"Right."

Harry watched them go. Then he rolled his eyes. "Just stay put, Harry," he muttered to himself. "No need to get involved."

But several hours later, when he was snuggled up in bed, he sat up, frowning. He better not regret this.

He went to Professor Flitwick's office and knocked. Flitwick answered almost immediately.

"Mr. Potter, how can I help you?"

"Ron and Hermione think the Philosopher's Stone is in danger," Harry said bluntly.

Flitwick's jaw dropped. "But how — how do you know about it?"

"Because they've told me." Harry refrained from mentioning who they thought was putting the Stone in danger.

"Well. Thank you, for telling me. Don't worry. I'll get to the bottom of this."

Harry nodded and went back to bed. He couldn't wait to get up in the morning and hear that the Stone was perfectly safe.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Ron and Hermione nodded, both looking extremely sheepish. They were both in the hospital wing, though only Ron had been injured due to sacrificing himself in a giant chess match.

"You were right, Harry," said Ron. "Snape wasn't trying to steal it."

"But you were right in that the Stone was in danger," Harry conceded. He shook his head. "Voldemort... in Hogwarts." On the back of one their professors' head at that!

Ron had flinched violently at the name. "Yeah. It was Hagrid that told Quirrell how to get past Fluffy. After that... well..."

Hermione shifted in her seat. "For what it's worth, we're really sorry for trying to drag you into this, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "You had good intentions. Just... try not to involve me the next time you decide to go on a big adventure."

They laughed. "Noted," said Ron. "By the way, did you get Fred and George's thank-you gift for saving our arses?"

Harry sighed. "You mean the lavatory seat? Yes."

Ron laughed again.

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Ah, much better.