Saphira Black and the Philosopher's Stone

Twenty-Seven~ Searching For Flamel

    Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins and Bianca were punished for bewitching several snowballs to follow Quirrell around and to bounce off the back of his turban. I could still remember the talk Professor McGonagall had with the Weasley twins one night about Bianca...

-Start of flashback-

    "Wait up!" I whispered, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried ahead of me. Then we passed a classroom whose door was slightly open and I heard Professor McGonagall's voice saying, "You two, we need to talk about Bianca Harris."

    I stopped running and stood by the door to listen.

    "Yes, she's much better now, don't you think?" said one of the twins.

    "We fixed her," said the other, "do we get fifty points for Gryffindor?"

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione crept towards the door as well.

    "Before, she was a sweet girl- bright, smart, and SHE USED TO COME TO CLASSES!" Professor McGonagall yelled.

    I gasped and so did Harry and Ron. We turned to look at Hermione.

    "Bianca Harris used to be like how you are now!" I whispered.

    "Maybe Hermione will change, too!"

    Hermione rolled her eyes.

    "Why are they talking this late about Bianca, though?"

    "Hey, budge over, I wanna listen, too."

    "Oh, sorry, Bianca."

    Slight awkward silence while Professor McGonagall yelled at the Weasley twins. Then Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I all turned around to stare at Bianca.

    "I said, move over."

    "Holy shniztelfritz!" Hermione whispered, "Bianca, don't scare me like that!"

    "Sorry, Hermione."

    "Shh! I want to listen!"

    "Don't you 'shh!' me, I'm the one they're talking about!"

    "I would like you two to watch your steps from now on, and please pass the message along to Ms. Harris as well," Professor McGonagall said, "now off you run to bed."

    My eyes widened.

    "Run!"

    We all ran off just in time.

    -End of flashback-

    Anyways, back to the original topic... right. Christmas.

    No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common rooms and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where our breath rose in a mist before us and we kept as close as possible to our hot cauldrons.

    Harry and I were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, and we were rather happy about it; Ron and his brothers were staying as well.

    When we left the dungeons at the end of Potions, we found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told us Hagrid was behind it.

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

    I dove at Malfoy and punched him in the face. As he fell, he grabbed my robes, so I fell on top of him. He took this chance to whisper in my ear, "Have a merry Christmas, Black," and he kissed me on the cheek as we got back up. I scowled at him as I stomped back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

    "Come on, Saphira, cheer up, you only fell on the boy, it's nearly Christmas. Tell yeh what, come an' see the Great Hall, looks like a treat."

    "Easy for you to say, Hagrid, he didn't kiss you."

    "WHAT?!"

    We 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," I said happily, "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.

    "The library?" said Hagrid, following us 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."

    "We just want to know who he is, that's all," Hermione said quickly.

    "Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" I added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere- just give us a hint, Hagrid, please? I know I've read his name somewhere, though..."

    "I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

    We hurried off to the library, leaving Hagrid looking disgruntled. Only we found nothing, and Hermione had to leave.

    "Maybe you could ask your parents about Flamel," Ron suggested hopefully, "it'd be safe to ask them."

    "Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

    Once the holidays had started, Ron, Harry, and I were having too good a time to think about Flamel. We spent hours sitting in the armchairs closest to the fire and discussing ways to get Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work. Harry and Ron were still furious with Malfoy that he had kissed me on the cheek, and I made no move to calm them down.

    Ron also started teaching us wizard chess, which I found very boring. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron was extremely good and his chessmen, though old, trusted him entirely and obeyed his every command. Harry tried playing with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and it was very amusing to watch. They obviously didn't trust him, and while he played, they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, and he'd end up being so confused he'd lose. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."