Dumbledore had convinced the Twins not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again and they didn't. For the rest of the Christmas holidays, the Invisibility Cloak stayed folded at the bottom of Harry's trunk. Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the Mirror as easily, but he couldn't.
The twins took to sleeping next to each other in the common room after they started having nightmares. Over and over again they dreamed about their parents disappearing, the same flash of bright green and high cold laughter from their childhood memories — they knew now that this was the Killing Curse and Voldemort, and it haunted them.
"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Harry told him about these dreams.
Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of the twins being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!") and disappointment that they hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.
In fact, the Sprigs had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other five, because Quidditch practice had started again.
Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training.
Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just got very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.
"Will you stop messing around?!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"
George really did fall off his broom at these words.
"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered, covered in mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."
The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.
"It's not my fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."
Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch. Though Draco maintained that Snape wouldn't have cursed his broom and in fact was countercursing, Harry remained convinced Snape was trying to kill him.
The rest of the team hung back to talk to each other as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Elowen playing solitaire with an Exploding Snap deck and Ron and Hermione playing chess at the next table. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something they all thought was very good for her.
"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him. "I need to concen—"He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
"Real nice, Ron," Elowen said, cursing and dropping one of her cards as it exploded. She looked over at Harry and set her deck down. "He's right, though, you look awful."
Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're sick," said Elowen.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.
"Madame Pomfrey would never buy that," Ron said. "Really break your leg."
"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
"You'd think Wood, Quidditch obsessed as he is, would have made sure there was a seeker in reserve," Elowen observed.
"Fred and George said no one at tryouts was any good," Ron said. "Heard them complaining about it in first week."
"That's why McGonagall put me on the team," Harry added.
At that moment, Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.
The common room burst into laughter as the Sprigs jumped up to help him. Elowen glared icily around at the other Gryffindors as Hermione (the most well read of them all) drew her wand and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.
"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit next to Elowen.
"Nott," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practise that on."
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"
Neville shook his head.
"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.
"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."
Elowen smacked the back of Ron's head and leaned forward, eyes on Neville's. "Nev, didn't any of the upper years see you on your way up?"
"I hid if I saw them coming," he mumbled. "I didn't want them to laugh like everyone else did." He shook his head, red-faced with shame, and choked out, "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Nott's already done that."
Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.
"You're worth twelve of Nott," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Nott? In stinking Slytherin."
"Thanks, Harry..." Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he took the Frog. "Don't let Draco hear you say that."
"Ron, how much do you think I could pay your brothers to prank Nott?" Elowen asked suddenly, casually.
"Elowen," Hermione sighed.
Elowen waved it off. "Never mind I'll just ask."
They watched her walk over to the twins, speak quietly to them, and then the twins grinned deviously and Elowen shook Fred's hand. Harry sighed. Elowen rejoined the group with a satisfied look.
"You shouldn't have set the Twins on Nott," Hermione scolded halfheartedly.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean," Elowen said airily. "Nev, wanna play Go Fish?"
"Thanks, El, but no." Neville unwrapped his Frog and took a sad bite. "I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card, Harry, you collect them, don't you?"
As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.
"Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever —" He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron, El, and Hermione. "I've found him! 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: 'Professor 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'!"
"On the back of a chocolate frog card this whole time." Elowen shook her head. "That's where we heard it before, Ron, Harry read it out to us on the train."
Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd got back the marks for their very first piece of homework.
"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. The twins and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous 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 told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.
At last she found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"Knew what?" Elowen asked.
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily at the same time. Hermione ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
Three blank looks. Hermione sighed.
"Are we meant to know what that is?" Elowen asked. "You're saying it like it's important."
"Oh, honestly, don't you people read? Look – read that, there." She pushed the book towards them, and Harry and Ron read:
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher'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 Philosopher'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, when they had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher'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 ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."
"Alchemy isn't potioneering," Elowen added, "that's why he wasn't in the potions books we checked."
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"
~~~
Next morning, the Weasley Twins slid into seat next to Elowen and Neville right before there was a commotion at the Slytherin table. Theodore Nott, who now sported a Gryffindor red lion's mane and red robes, was scowling. Every time he opened his mouth, his words were extolling Gryffindor. The Great Hall burst into laughter as he stood and walked quickly from the room.
Hermione was trying to look disapproving at El and the Weasley Twins, but the effect was ruined by the grin she was fighting. Neville was looking between the three of them.
"El, you really had them prank Nott?" he asked. El nodded.
"No one gets to mess with my friends," she shrugged. "And I was tired of Nott thinking he could get away with it."
"We'll take any opportunity..."
"To prank a Slytherin..."
"Especially one who's bullying a Lion," the Weasley twins chimed in.
"Oh," said Neville, looking oddly touched. "Thanks."
~~~
Later that morning, in Defense, the lions mane was gone, though Theodore Nott was still sporting red hair and every so often would spout "I love Gryffindor!"The Gryffindors all thought this was very funny.
While copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing quietly what they'd do with a Philosopher's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.
"I'm going to play," he told the Sprigs. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."
"He's right, they will think that," Draco chimed in from the desk in front of them.
"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the pitch," said Hermione.
~~~
As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told the others. The rest of the team weren't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?
Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own (Rarely did Harry ever go anywhere without at least one of the other Sprigs).
Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Harry was so paranoid of the man and Snape was worse with him than the other students. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Philosopher's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could have – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.
"Sev is a very good Legilimens," Draco said when Harry mentioned this in the Den. The blonde seemed very unconcerned. "It's illegal to use on a minor though. If you're worried, just don't meet his eyes."
"That's the same thing you said about Dumbledore," Harry pointed out.
"And was I wrong?"
"Professor Dumbledore wouldn't read a student's mind," Hermione protested. "You just said it was illegal."
The others all exchanged exasperated looks. They were close to breaking Hermione of her absolute trust in authority figures, but it was slow going.
"Granger," Draco drawled, "some day you will realize that a man like Dumbledore has the power to do whatever he wants. Including reading a student's mind."
"So he's just above the law?" Hermione demanded.
"He practically made the law," Draco scoffed. "Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, he'd be Minister if people could convince him of it."
Hermione huffed. "No one person should have so much authority."
"Welcome to the magical world," Draco said dryly.
~~~
Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that his friends were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. Elowen seemed especially reluctant to leave him and join the others in the stand. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Elowen, Neville, Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Dean, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had all brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that the four of them had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd got the idea from Nott using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry (Draco had protested heavily against this, saying they could really hurt Snape, but between Harry and Snape, Elowen had spat, she would always choose Harry. He'd been quiet after that, and even learned both curse and countercurse himself).
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.
"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."
"And I hope to Merlin we don't have to use it," said Draco, sliding into the seat next to El. She smiled.
"I hope we don't either," she said. "I thought you'd be sitting with the Slytherins."
"If we were playing, I would be," he sniffed pretentiously. "It's Hufflepuff, though. I suppose I'll root for Harry."
Elowen laughed.
~~~
Back in the changing room, Wood had taken 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 favour 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, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.
Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He might not exactly like Dumbledore, but if he was there, Harry was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try and hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.
Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched on to the pitch, something that Ron noticed, too.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told the other three. "Look – they're off. Ouch!"
Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Nott.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Nott narrowed his eyes as he caught the green of Draco's robes next to Elowen. "Malfoy, what a surprise. Still associating with filth like these Gryffindors?"
Draco didn't bother to turn around. "Still butting in where you aren't wanted, Theodore?"
Nott scowled at his back. Harry swooped over head and Nott glanced up, then grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you, Weasley?"
Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Nott loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "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."
Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Nott.
"I'm worth twelve of you, Nott," he stammered.
Nott, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."
"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
"Theodore, honestly, get some new material," Draco snapped. "Otherwise, be quiet."
Ron's nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.
"I'm warning you, Nott, one more word —"
"Guys!" said Hermione suddenly. "Harry!"
"What? Where?"
Harry had suddenly gone into a fast, steep dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Elowen was shaking Draco's shoulder. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked towards the ground like a bullet.
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Nott.
Ron snapped. Before Nott knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Draco groaned and followed Neville over the seats.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, pulling Elowen up and leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape. Both girls were so caught up in the game, neither one even noticed Nott and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Draco, Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.
Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches – next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.
The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.
"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor are in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.
Elowen spun around and hugged Draco tightly. "He caught it in like five minutes!"
She pulled back and looked over Draco's mussed hair and robes. "What happened to you?"
~~~
Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it – the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling on to the pitch, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped – then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.
"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy... excellent..."
His hand was dislodged by the force of Elowen's hug and Harry was soon enveloped by a pile of his friends and teammates.
Snape spat bitterly on the ground.
~~~
Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; the Sprigs in the distance, jumping up and down, Draco looking fondly exasperated at the Gryffindors' exuberance, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed.
Harry had reached the shed. He leant against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He'd done it, he'd shown Snape...
And speaking of Snape...
A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle, walking as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest, clearly not wanting to be seen. Harry's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. That was Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on?
Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run, and he followed.
The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree.
He sent a brief thanks up to the universe that he and Elowen spent so many years climbing trees to get away from Dudley and his gang as he climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves.
Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.
"...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."
"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."
Oh, Draco isn't going to like this, Harry thought as he leaned forward on his branch. Quirrell was mumbling something he couldn't quite catch. Snape interrupted him.
"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"
"B-b-but Severus, I..."
"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step towards him.
"I-I don-t know what you—"
"You know perfectly well what I mean."
An owl hooted loudly and Harry, startled, nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, "...your little bit of hocus pocus. I'm waiting."
"B-but I d-d-don't—"
"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."
He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.
Harry climbed back to the top of the tree and flew fast back towards the castle.
~~~
"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked as Harry passed the Great Hall. "Elowen nearly sent out a search party when you didn't turn up for dinner!"
"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Nott a black eye and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! Lucky Draco jumped in to help, never thought I'd see that – 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." Ron said all of this in a very Hermione-like fashion. "Elowen's even dragged Draco into the party, and no one is really complaining, I think they all saw him fight Goyle to help Neville."
"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's get the others and go to the Den, you wait 'til you hear this..."
Hermione was the one elected to go back into the raging common room party and returned with El, Neville and Draco in tow.
"I don't know how you five can stand that room," Draco was saying, "there's so much red and noise."
"It was a party, Draco, of course there was noise," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"That doesn't excuse the lack of non-Gryffindor colors," Draco sniffed.
As soon as Basil's portrait closed behind them in the Den, Harry told them all 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," Harry said, pacing in front of the chairs the others were sat in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco slump at the confirmation of Snape's involvement. He kept going. "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 which 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, looking between the others.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.