Hope didn't try to find the Mirror again, her fathers warning had done that. But it hadn't stopped her from dreaming about her family coming together as one. Another thing she couldn't get out of her head, was that Draco Malfoy must be related to her in some way. She knew that her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, had two sisters, one of them (Andromeda) Hope had visited fairly frequently. But she'd never met the other, the woman had made no effort to contact Hope. She knew the only two people who could really answer her questions were either her father, or Draco Malfoy. Since the idea of speaking to Malfoy made her want to hit something, she decided to speak to her father instead. However, she'd had a very difficult time trying to track him down, he seemed to always be busy with something and was never in his office whenever she went to check.
Now that term had started again, they found it increasingly more difficult to look for Flamel's name. Quidditch practices had also started up again, meaning that Harry was out almost every other night until late.
They'd decided to give up searching for Flamels name for tonight and relax in the common room. Harry had gone out for Quidditch practice so it was just Hope, Hermione and Ron. They'd decided to use their time to play wizards chess. Hope and Ron had been trying to teach the others how to play, but Hermione was rather bad at the game and was yet to win a match. This also meant that it was rather difficult to convince her to start playing. Hope and Ron sat playing together while Hermione read a book beside them.
"Don't talk to me for a moment", said Ron, as Harry tramped into the common room covered in mud, and clutching his broom, "I need to concen-"
He faltered looking at Harrys expression.
"What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
Silently, Hope agreed.
"Snapes refereeing our Quidditch match against Hufflepuff this weekend", Harry explained. Hope clasped a hand to her mouth.
"Don't play", said Hermione at once, putting down her book.
"Say you're ill", Ron added.
"Pretend to have an injury", Hope suggested.
"Pretend to break your leg?", Hermione said.
"Really break your leg", said Ron.
"I can't", Harry sighed, "there isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
Out of the corner of her eye, Hope saw the portrait hole open and someone bunny hop inside. It was Neville, his legs had been stuck together using a Leg-Locker Curse. Hope quickly pulled out her wand and performed the counter curse.
The rest of the common room burst into laughter, Hermione stood up as well to help Neville up.
"What happened?", Hope asked.
"Malfoy", Nevilles, voice was shaky, "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
Hopes insides burned with anger, as they always did when Malfoy was mentioned.
"Go to Professor McGonagall!", Hermione said at once, "you've got to report him!"
Neville shook his head, "I don't want any more trouble."
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!", Ron urged, "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoys already done that", Neville looked on the verge of tears.
"Don't listen to him Neville", Hope told him, "Malfoys just some pureblooded slimeball."
Harry pulled out a chocolate frog and gave it to Neville.
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy", Harry said, "the Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."
Neville's unwrapped the frog, looking slightly happier than before.
"Thank, guys... I think I'll go to bed... Do you want the card? You collect them, don't you?"
Harry gasped and stared at the card, Neville had just handed him.
"I've found him!", He whispered, "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: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, the discovery of the twelve uses of dragons blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!"
"I know him!", Hope was buzzing with excitement, "he was here earlier in the summer! He asked my father to hide something for him - I didn't think he would hide it inside the school - It's called a Philosophers Stone? Or something like that?"
Hermione's jumped to her feet.
"Stay there!", She said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Only a second later she returned holding an enormous old book in her hands.
"I never thought to look in here!", She whispered, "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?", Asked Ron, causing, Hope and Harry to laugh. Hermione opened the pages and flicked through them.
"Here! Nicolas Flamel", she whispered, "the only known maker of the Philosophers stone! Here read this."
She pushed the book towards them and they read:
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosophers 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).
"It's no wonder Snapes after it!", Hope gasped, "a Stone that stops you from ever dying!"
"This must be what Flamel asked Dumbledore to hide!", Hermione agreed, "he must have known someone was after it and moved it out of Gringotts to here!"
"Good thing he did too", Harry added, "his vault was broken in to later that day. If he hadn't moved it Snape would probably already have his hands on the Stone."
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Development in Wizardry he's not exactly recent is he?", Ron laughed.
They continued to discuss the Philosophers stone up until the next day during their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"If I had the stone, I'd use the gold to buy my very own Quidditch team", Ron said.
"I'm going to play", Harry said, Hope gave him a quizzical look.
"You want to play in Ron's quidditch team?"
"No, at the match this weekend. If I don't all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them", said Harry, "it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."
By the time the weekend rolled around, worry became more and more prominent in Hopes mind. During Harry's last Quidditch match Snape had jinxed his broom, and they'd only just managed to save him. With Snape up in the air, and far away from them, they'd have no chance of getting to Snape.
Hope, Ron and Hermione found themselves seats in the stands next to Neville. Once they sat down, Neville asked them, why they looked so worried, and why all three of them had brought their wands with them. As a way of easing their minds, the three of them had been practicing a few basic jinxes, such as, the leg locker curse, so that they could use it on Snape if he showed any sign of trying to hurt Harry.
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis", Hermione whispered.
"I know", Ron hissed back, "don't nag."
Hope was too busy scanning the crowd to listen to Ron and Hermione's arguing. She'd spotted something that made a wave of relief wash over her.
"Dumbledore's here!", She told them both excitedly.
"What?!"
Hope pointed to the stands, where her father was standing with the other teachers smiling merrily in the sun. With her father here, Snape wouldn't dare try anything on Harry. Feeling better than she'd done all week, Hope stowed her wand away in her pocket.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean", Ron whispered, "look they're off! Ouch!"
Hope spun around and saw Malfoy, standing behind them.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there", he laughed. Crabbe and Goyle grinned stupidly behind him.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you, Weasley?"
"Shut up, Malfoy, your just jealous that, Harry's a better flier than you are", Hope shot at him.
"Jealous?", Malfoy laughed, obnoxiously, "why would I be jealous of a loser like Potter?"
"Maybe because, he's better than you, in every way?", Hopes temper was rising.
"Better?, You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?", He said, just as snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley hit a bludger at him, "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!"
Hope stood up out of her seat and whipped around, pulling her wand out of her Robe.
"Don't!", Hermione cried, pulling on Hopes arm.
"Thoughts?, Longbottom?", Malfoy asked, ignoring Hope.
"I'm worth twelve of you Malfoy", he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle all laughed loudly, but Ron muttered, "you tell him, Neville."
"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
"Shut up, Malfoy, or I'll-"
"You'll what, Dumbledore? Get Daddy to expel me?"
"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word-", Ron started.
"Guys!", Hermione screamed suddenly, "look at, Harry!"
Hope, had been so preoccupied with Malfoy, the thought of the game had almost completely left her mind. She turned around and saw that Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, straight towards the ground.
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!", Malfoy jeered.
That must have been the last straw for Ron. Before she knew what was happening, Ron dove at Malfoy. Neville and Hope together launched themselves at Crabbe and Goyle, before they could come to Malfoys aid. She used her wand to perform a jelly legs jinx on Goyle, so that his legs stuck together and began to jerk themselves around uncontrollably.
"Come on, Harry!", Hermione screamed. Hope looked up just in time, to see Harry pull out of his dive, the snitch clasped in his hand. The stands erupted into cheers, the match must have only lasted about five minutes.
It took several minutes to untangle Neville from Crabbe and Goyle, who'd been fighting so hard Neville had been knocked out. Ron and Malfoys fight had been far less vicious, Ron was sporting a bloody nose and Malfoys eye had already begun to swell.
When they got up to the common room they could barely hear anything from the sound of Gryffindors celebrating. Fred and George had disappeared and come back later their arms filled with food and drink.
Harry must have been the last person to arrive in the common room. He came back, still in his quidditch robes, clutching his broom stick.
"Harry, where have you been?", Hermione asked
"We won!", Ron cheered, "and I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle! He's still out cold, but I reckon it could have been a lot worse if Hope hadn't hexed Goyle. Talk about showing the Slytherins!"
"Never mind that now", Harry whispered hurriedly, "I've just seen Snape trying to find out if Quirrell's figured out how to get past Fluffy yet. And then he said something like 'your hocus pocus' I'm not sure, I couldn't hear them that well."
"Well that confirms it", Hope said, "Snapes trying to get the Philosophers stone, and I'll bet he's bullying Professor Quirrell into helping him."
"There must be something else guarding the Stone", said Hermione thoughtfully, "probably loads of enchantments, and Quirrell probably would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through."
"So you mean to say", Ron looked horrified, "that the Stones only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?"
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday."