Independent (drarry story) (female Draco)

Part 8

"Did you see that" started Hermione as soon as they were out of sight.
"See what?" Asked Ron
"There was a trapdoor under the dog" said Lyra

But they couldn't discuss it for long since they needed to get back before they actually get caught.

They all went to sleep still terrified from what they saw but they were also thankful they had survived.

👣👄👣👁👄👁👣👄👣👁👄👁👣👄👣
🙊🙉🙊🙉🙊🙉🙊🙉🙊🙉🙊🙉🙊🙉🙊

Holidays

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Came Parkinson's cold drawl from behind them.

"Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Parkinson just as Snape came up the stairs. "WEASLEY!"
Ron let go of the front of Parkinson's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Parkinson was insultin' his family."
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
Parkinson, Nott, and Zabini pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get her," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Parkinson's back, "one of these days, I'll get her—"
"I hate them both," said Harry, "Parkinson and Snape."
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.
"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree, put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of
candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked. "Just one," said Lyra. "And that reminds me — Harry, Ron,Hermione we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here,  I've told yeh, drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione. "Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere, just give us a hint, I know I've read his name somewhere." "I'm sayin' nothin', said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.