2nd Nov 1991
Hogwarts Staff Room
It was the first of several meetings between the Hogwarts professors and quite a few things had already been discussed—the troubles of the upper years, the poor quality of the school brooms, the Quidditch Cup, the latest shenanigans of the Weasley twins, so on and so forth.
Things were drawing to a close now and all the other professors had already left, leaving just Dumbledore and the four Heads of Houses.
"And what of our first years?" Albus began, wanting to know about any unusually talented students they had observed.
Minerva gave a short summary, with no one bring mentioned in particular, before the attention was centred on the Hufflepuff Head of House, who reported much the same.
"But Minerva, I simply must comment on Mr. Longbottom. The boy has an amazing green thumb for Herbology," Pomona continued.
Albus nodded. "Not surprising. Longbottom Manor has its own greenhouses, after all."
After that unfortunate incident with poor Frank and Alice Longbottom, Augusta had tried everything to heal her dear son and daughter-in-law, even magical plants with healing powers.
Unfortunately, matters of the mind and spirit elude even the most powerful of wizards, and so the two of them remained in St. Mungo's even to this day. Just another painful scar the war had left behind.
"What of your students, Severus?" Albus asked the potions master.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Severus said shortly. Unlike the others, he was not inclined to talk about his Slytherins.
"I see." Albus said the same as he did every year when Severus give the same curt answer. "What of the Ravenclaws, Filius?"
"Ah, I suppose I have been lucky this year to have not one, but two exceptional students," Filius said with a large smile, "Miss Granger is exceedingly bright and has an immense love for learning."
Albus' eyes twinkled happily. He loved that quality in a student above all else.
"But even she can't match the ease and effortless grace with which young Mr. Carter blows through the coursework," praised Filius. "He always performs every spell on the very first try. In fact, I have often seen him completing the homework in the class itself, after finishing the assigned work."
"Interesting," said Albus. "Has anyone else noticed this?"
The others nodded in agreement. "The boy is a prodigy, leagues ahead of his classmates," Minerva stated.
"There's little surprise," said Severus. "It is clear that the boy has studied ahead before coming to Hogwarts. Knowing his parents, they must have instructed him personally."
Albus nodded. Andrew Carter and Miranda Simmons—two of Hogwarts' most distinguished graduates. An Auror and a Healer. It was indeed no surprise that young Mr. Carter was doing well in classes. However, Minerva had told him about Benjamin's thrilling encounter with the troll on Halloween.
'Glacius' was a 3rd year spell, whereas 'Aguamenti' was a 6th year spell. That the boy was able to perform these spells under pressure, meant that he had practiced them before. Albus wondered what other advanced spells the boy knew. He had observed how close the boy was to both Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom.
When young Harry had arrived at Hogwarts, Albus had noticed that he was smaller than the boys of his age. He once again regretted not being able to visit Harry at the Dursley's. But between all his duties and responsibilities, as well as the unscheduled calls on his person, he really had very little time to spare. Besides, he had to be extremely careful not to leave any kind of trail that the darker elements of their society might have picked up.
The Dursleys were not the family he would've wanted to raise Harry. Unfortunately, he had no choice in the matter. On that fateful night in Godric's Hollow, to protect her infant son from Voldemort, Lily Potter had used incredibly powerful ancient blood magic.
The price had been her own life and magic, but the protection it bestowed on Harry made it such that Voldemort could not touch him. But more than that, as long as Harry remained in the vicinity of those that shared Lily Potter's blood, wizards with ill-intent towards Harry will also not be able to harm him.
At the time, Voldemort was gone, but a lot of his supporters remained—both in the open and in the dark. Albus had been tempted to place Harry with a wizarding family—such as the Bones or the Longbottoms. But ultimately, he decided to trust Lily's arrangements.
He was proven right three days later, when the Longbottoms were attacked. The wards around the Manor had been top of the line, but they hadn't helped poor Frank and Alice.
Albus decided then that anonymity was better than fallible security. After placing Harry with the Dursleys, he had made sure to erase every mention of Lily's muggle relatives.
He had even spread several conflicting rumours of Harry getting trained by powerful wizards in Europe and America, to further confuse those who might have still been searching for him.
Albus had naturally been keeping an eye on Harry, and he was glad to see that the boy was finally coming on to his own. Making friends, learning magic, having fun—as any young boy of his age should. He really wished such a young boy did not have to shoulder a burden like that. Unfortunately, fate had no care for human sentiments.
Harry Potter was the only one who could destroy the Dark Lord, but that doesn't mean he had to do it all alone. Albus intended to find out how Voldemort had survived after his body had perished.
That is why he was running such a charade with the Philosopher's Stone this year. He knew Tom would not be able to resist such a tempting lure. Once Voldemort's spirit was captured inside the mirror, Albus will be able to find the cause of his pseudo-immortality, and how to undo it.
Harry Potter must be the one to vanquish the Dark Lord, yes. But as far as Albus was concerned, that only meant that Harry had to land the final blow. He owed it to Lily and James, owed to all those young lives snuffed out before their time, to make sure that Harry survived. No matter the cost.
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15th Nov 1991
Quidditch Stands
I love quidditch as much as any other wizard. But there are some things about the sport that just don't sit right with me. I am talking about the equipment, of course.
I don't know about you, but I don't find the idea of two iron balls magically designed to seek out and injure as many people as possible, especially appealing. Wizards don't seem to have a firm grasp on the power of concussions.
Then of course, there are the broomsticks. I fly myself, all the time. No kind of drug can give you the high you get zipping through the air at 100 kmph. What I did not enjoy, was having a tiny piece of wood supporting my crotch, with my legs dangling by the side.
No amount of cushioning charms can lessen that kind of discomfort. Maybe I could recreate Dr. Strange's Cloak of Levitation sometime. With Gravity Magic, it would certainly be possible. I made a mental note as I focused back on the match.
The first Quidditch match of the season looked to be even more dramatic then I had expected, what with that traditional rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
The flying skills demonstrated by the 6 chasers and the 2 keepers were amazing. The way they seemed to know instinctively where the others were, being able to pass the quaffle without even looking, was jaw-dropping.
Hermione and I had joined Neville, Ron, Seamus and Dean in the Gryffindor Stands, where Hagrid soon showed up. On the pitch, Harry had stayed out of trouble so far by flying higher than anyone else, but then he had dived into the thickest part of the match where the golden snitch had shown up.
The Slytherin seeker Terence Higgs had noticed it too. Soon both seekers were racing for the snitch. Harry was faster but then Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain had blocked Harry and almost knocked him off his broom. As Harry recovered, Madam Hooch gave Gryffindor a free shot, but in the meantime, the snitch had disappeared.
I was keeping a close eye on Harry, which is why I noticed at once when his broom started moving erratically. Looking towards the faculty stand, I activated the Farsight function of my glasses.
Yep, little b*tch Quirrelmort was working his mumbo jumbo. Now, I could wait for Hermione to notice that Harry's broom was being jinxed, and then for her to go and set Snape's robes on fire after knocking over Quirrel. That is how it went down in canon.
But I could no longer completely rely on canon. One major difference was the troll showing up near the second floor staircase instead of the first floor bathrooms. If Hermione distracted Snape without knocking over Quirrel first, the consequences could be disastrous.
I gave an inconspicuous wave and conjured a housefly. It began to fly across the pitch just as everyone took notice of Harry's buckling broom. Arms were raised and pointed, gasps and groans and cries of outrage and panic were starting to sweep across the crowd, when the fly reached its target, and promptly entered Quirrel's mumbling mouth.
Quirrel gave a gasp. Clutching his throat, he started making choking noises as the fly entered his oesophagus. Meanwhile, on the pitch, Harry regained control of his broom. He debated whether he should go down while he still could.
But at that moment, Harry caught sight of something golden fluttering close to the ground. He started speeding towards the ground, reached out his hand and clasped it firmly around the snitch. And thus, Gryffindor won the match with 170-20.
After the match was over, we made our way to Hagrid's cabin, where the gentle half-giant made Harry a strong cup of tea.
"It was Snape," Hermione started explaining, "I saw him jinxing your broom. He was staring at you without blinking and muttering under his breath. You need to concentrate to maintain a jinx against the protections on a quidditch broom."
I did not correct them. Better for them to think it was Snape, then for Quirrelmort to rip the information that we were on to him, out of their unprotected minds.
"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"
Harry looked at us. He had told us yesterday how he found Snape treating his leg that he had gotten mangled trying to get past the cerberus.
"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."
Hagrid dropped the teapot.
"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.
"Fluffy?"
"Yeah... he's mine... bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub last year...I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the..."
"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.
"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."
"But Snape's trying to steal it?"
"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothing of the sort."
"So, why did he try to kill Harry?" cried Hermione.
"I'm telling yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try and kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, and you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel..."
"Aha!" said Harry, "so, there's someone called Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?"
Hagrid looked furious with himself.
"Wait, The Nicholas Flamel?" I asked innocently. "The Alchemist? The one who made the Philosopher's Stone?"
"The Philosopher's Stone?" said Harry, while both Hermione and Neville gave a start of realisation.
Hermione was instantly in lecture mode. "The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary artefact that can transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which can make the drinker immortal. The only confirmed stone is in the possession of the alchemist Nicholas Flamel."
"Flamel is a friend of Dumbledore, and he is over 650 years old," I added to the amazement of the others.
"That's it," said Harry, instantly connecting the dots. "The Philosopher's Stone. That was what in that vault in Gringotts, the one that was broken into. Someone tried to steal it before, so Dumbledore moved it to Hogwarts. That's what underneath that trapdoor."
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying," said Neville, "No wonder Snape wants it. Anyone would."
At this point, Hagrid finally had enough and kept his mouth firmly shut. He wouldn't budge no matter what, so we had no choice but to go back to the castle. As the others discussed what they would do if they had the Stone, I thought back to the events of the day.
Now that they knew what was hidden on the third floor, they wouldn't waste months searching about Flamel, like they had in canon. Hopefully, the next few months would pass by without incident, so I could focus on my work in peace.