DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER! I THINK EVERYONE KNOWS THIS!
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Chapter 11:
I had never even seen any Christmas dinner like this. There must have been about hundred juicy, roast turkeys; heaps of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and amazing cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.
Party favors were in no comparison to Muggle ones that I have had in the past, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. I pulled a wizard cracker with George and it didn't just bang, exploded and surrounded us all in a cloud of green smoke. A Muggle wizard hat popped out along with live, walking gingerbread men. Ron grabbed one of them and stuffed his face.
Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. I laughed as Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice by Fred and George. I saw Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, then kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. I gagged at the sight.
When Tori and I finally left the table, Fred and George had suggested a snowball fight. I also noticed that all of the gingerbread men had disappeared and I had a feeling it had to do with a certain Weasley. I was Fred, Harry and I verses George, Ron, and Tori and we one.
“Harry,” I asked the next morning. “Why are you not eating?”
“Vi is right,” agreed Ron. “You do look a bit odd.”
Harry, of course, just mumbled, “I’m fine,” and that was it.
Tori and I shared a sideways glace before ignoring it. Maybe he ate too much last night, but that thought quickly went away the day after that.
"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.
"No."
"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?" I suggested and Tori nodded.
"No… you go…"
"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."
“What mirror?” I asked
"Why not?"
“Why can’t he?” asked Tori.
"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it — and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"
“What are you talking about?” Tori and I asked at the same time, but we still got no reply.
“You sound like Hermione.”
"I'm serious, Harry, don't go," said Ron.
That night, for some reason, I couldn’t sleep. I crept out of my room, leaving Tori peacefully asleep, and out of the Slytherin Common Room. My stomach growled as I started to creep my way around the castle that was until I bumped into someone.
I landed on the cold, hard ground with a ‘thud’. I looked up to see Dumbledore with his eyes twinkling. Standing up slowly, I flashed an innocent smile.
“Isn’t a bit late to be wondering the corridors, Violet?” asked Dumbledore.
“S-sorry Professor,” I said. “I got hungry.”
“Would you like to come with me to the kitchens then? I got rather hungry myself and I was hoping to sneak a hot chocolate,” said Dumbledore. I nodded my head.
The walk to the kitchens was quiet. Neither Dumbledore nor I spoke on the way there. We got our hot chocolate from house elves in silence and drank it in silence. Well, that was until Dumbledore said something.
“I think that you and your friend, Victoria, are doing Slytherin House good whether you think that you are or not.”
I looked at Dumbledore cautiously. I had been thinking that for a few weeks now. I thought about how all of the other Slytherins treat us the same as people in the in the other houses. I befriended other houses and any blood status, and I pretty sure that has never crossed a Slytherin’s mind.
“Many witches and wizards believe that Slytherin House is evil because that was Lord Voldemort’s house. I think that you might just help people understand that everyone in that house is not bad, or that everyone in that house will turn bad,” said Dumbledore. “You mother was the same way.”
My eyes snapped to meet his. “She was?”
Dumbledore nodded and took another sip of his drink before continuing. “You’re father was the opposite, of course. He didn’t approve of anyone but Slytherins and anyone who had lesser blood, but somehow, you father always found a soft spot for your mother. They didn’t loathe each other like most people would have thought they would, but they tolerated each other’s presents.”
I took all this information in. I didn’t have a clue on anything about my parents, save the things that the Sorting Hat told me in the beginning of the year. Even then it wasn’t much.
“You even look just like her.”
“I do?” I asked with my eyes as wide as galleons.
Dumbledore chuckled softly, “Everything from your eyes to your height.” I frowned slightly at that. I didn’t really like being so short. “But you do have your father’s cheek, his temper, and his demeanor.” I grinned broadly at that.
We finished our hot chocolate and walked down the corridor that I had come from a few hours ago. It was silent once again.
“Fangs,” I spoke to the wall and it opened to the passageway. “Thank you, Professor.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, and before you go Violet, I hope you and your friends won’t go looking for trouble.”
“No promises, sir,” I replied.
I stepped into the passageway and heard the familiar click of the wall sealing shut. I walked along it, still freezing cold as ever, and into the all too familiar Common Room. By the time I was in my dormitory, Tori was still sound asleep in her bed and by the time I hit my pillow, so was I.
It was soon the last day of break, and Hermione was back. She asked us if we had found anything, but we didn’t. Supposedly, Jenna and Sophia were coming back today as well, but there was still no sign of them.
Tori and I had gone up to the Gryffindor Common Room to entertain ourselves with Ron and Hermione. Harry had to go to Quidditch practice and Ron and Hermione were playing an intense game of chess. And by intense, I mean Ron is kicking Hermione’s butt.
“I don’t get it!” Hermione growled as Ron took another one of her pieces. “I’m usually good at Muggle chess!”
“But didn’t you know Hermione?” I said. “This is Wizard Chess!”
“Yeah,” Tori giggled. “This is so much different!”
“Oh shut up you two!” Hermione huffed as she moved her knight, which was soon taken by Ron.
I heard the Portrait slam and walked in a sweaty and tired looking Harry. I smiled at him and he smiled back. I heard Tori’s laugh as another chess piece was destroyed.
"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."
Speaking quietly so that no one else in the room would hear, Harry told us about how Snape's sudden desires to be a Quidditch referee.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg," Tori suggested.
"Really break your leg," I shrugged and smiled.
"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
At that exact moment, Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole, I had no idea because his legs had been stuck together with what I soon recognized as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.
I took one good look at him before I doubled over in laughter. Hermione was the only one who wasn’t.
Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. "What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with us.
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily and I growled at the name. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice 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."
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.
“That’s not what he meant, Neville,” said Tori.
I watched as Harry dig for something in his pocket. It was a chocolate frog. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.
"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."
“HEY!” Tori and I shouted. Harry gave us a sheepish smile.
Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.
"Thanks, Harry… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, 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 continued to stare at the back of the card. Then he looked up at us.
"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, 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,” I said slowly. “A chocolate frog?”
Hermione gasped and shot up like a bullet.
"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. I watched as she was dashing back quicker than I think that was ever possible with 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?” I squeaked.
“Geez, I’d hate to see what you think is heavy reading!” giggled Tori and Ron laughed.
Hermione glared at us to be quiet. She started to flip frantically through the pages before coming to a hault.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
We all had blank looks on our faces.
"The what?" said Harry and Ron. Tori and I just shrugged.
"Oh, honestly, don't you four read? Look – read that, there."
She pushed the book toward us, and I quickly scanned the lines:
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 Harry and Ron had finished (they were slow readers). "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 from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."
"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?"
“You got that right,” I agreed.
The day of the game, Tori and I found our seats next to Hermione, Neville, and Ron.
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered to us.
"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."
We had gotten the idea of using that spell from what Malfoy had done to Neville.
“But I don’t even think that we are going to be able to use it though,” I smiled.
“Why?” Tori asked.
“Because Dumbledore’s here!” I pointed.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron whispered to us. I looked down at where Snape was, and he was right. "Look — they're off. Ouch!"
I turned around at the same time as Ron did and watched as a hand lowered from the back of Ron’s head. It was Malfoy.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.
“Of course you didn’t,” I replied sarcastically and he glared at me.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley? Smythe?"
We didn't answer; I watched as Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly. I groaned 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.”
I saw Neville’s face go bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.
"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.
“Tell him Neville!” I cheered while Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter.
"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
I was already at boiling point.
"I'm warning you, Malfoy — one more word—"
"Ron!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry —"
"What? Where?"
Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy
Ron snapped before I did. Malfoy didn’t even know what was happening; Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground.
Neville hesitated, and then clambered over the back of his seat to help.
“Neville! Ron!” Tori and I shrieked at the same time.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed.
I tried to pull Ron off of Malfoy before he could do any damage to Ron, but instead, a punch missed and landed in my stomach. Cheers went off around me and I heard Hermione’s voice cheering as well.
"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked at the end of the game.
"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye-”
“But that was before you missed and punched me in the stomach!” I yelled at Ron. My tummy still hurts. But, Ron ignored me.
“-and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right! But, that was before Tori could break it up before some permanent damage was done. She is in there as well because Crabbe fell on her leg and broke it. But, 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."
"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room; you wait 'til you hear this…"
Harry made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, and then he told us what he'd seen and heard about Quirrell and Snape in the forest.
"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. 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 that 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.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron. I groaned.
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A/N: WTH? 554 READS?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! Wow... That is just... Amazing! Thank you all for reading, commenting and voting! It's not even my birthday yet and my wish has already come true! This is just awesome! Wow... Anyways... This is a really long chapter and I hope you all love it! Who likes this new Wattpad format? I don't! VOTE/COMMENT!!! ~ Cheyenne (a.k.a PrincessOfHearts13) xXx
P.S. There is a picture of Violet Smythe right over there --->