Two boys walked up to Lynn, glanced around in bewilderment, but neither spotted any sign of Hermione.
'Lynn, where's Hermione?' Harry asked, looking at her.
Lynn answered in a flat tone, 'She went back to the dormitory to fetch something and told us to wait here.'
'Oh, okay.' Harry and Ron nodded and, like Lynn, waited obediently where they stood.
Before long, Hermione came clattering down the stairs hugging a massive tome.
'Come with me,' she said to the three of them, leading the way to an empty table nearby.
With a thud, Hermione dropped the heavy book onto the tabletop.
'I borrowed this for light reading,' she explained, already flipping pages at top speed.
Ron gaped at the volume—big enough to knock someone out. 'For… light reading?'
Hermione flicked her eyes up. 'Got a problem with that?'
'No, no.' Ron waved his hands hastily to show he had no objections whatsoever.
Satisfied, Hermione returned her gaze to the book and stopped at a particular page.
'Nicolas Flamel—here he is!'
Harry and Ron blinked, then leaned in to look.
'Nicolas Flamel, the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone…' Hermione read softly.
'Six hundred and something!' Harry exclaimed. 'No wonder we couldn't find him—someone that old isn't exactly recent history.'
Ron's attention had wandered to a different detail. 'The Philosopher's Stone… that's incredible.'
It could turn any metal into pure gold and produce the Elixir of Life. 'No wonder Professor Quirrell wants to steal it—who wouldn't want a Philosopher's Stone?'
Harry and Hermione fell silent; they couldn't disagree—who wouldn't want one?
Only Lynn remained quiet, some remark among the three sparking a sudden thought.
Living too long… does it really mean anything? She shook the notion away and stood still.
The comment reminded Hermione of something. 'Lynn, you've read this book before, haven't you? I saw you looking at that shelf in the Library.'
Meeting Hermione's bright eyes, Lynn nodded expressionlessly. 'I have.'
Hermione gave a knowing nod, while Ron groaned, 'Then why didn't you just tell us who he was…'
Lynn turned to Ron, tone mechanical and earnest. 'You didn't ask.'
'Fair enough…' Ron slapped a hand over his face; none of them had thought to ask her.
'So,' Harry said quietly, 'we can be sure what's behind the forbidden door on the fourth floor is the Philosopher's Stone.'
Hermione nodded firmly. 'Exactly.'
'So what does Professor Quirrell want with it—turning lead to gold or brewing an immortality potion?' Ron asked, intrigued.
'Don't know,' Harry replied, 'but we can't let him succeed.'
'Right!' Hermione and Ron both nodded vigorously.
With that settled, Lynn spoke up. 'I'm heading back to Ravenclaw to study.'
She turned to leave, but Hermione caught her wrist.
'Stay for the morning—celebrations mean lots of good food. You can eat before you go back.'
Lynn met Hermione's plea with an indifferent nod. 'All right.'
Hermione beamed, pulled Lynn from the corner, and headed for a table laden with cupcakes.
She left the heavy book behind; Harry and Ron would return it.
At the table, Hermione picked up a cupcake and offered it to Lynn.
Lynn accepted it, murmured thanks, bowed her head, and devoured the palm-sized cake in under ten seconds.
Hermione's heart twisted; she dabbed crumbs from Lynn's lips with a tissue.
'Eating so fast—can you even taste it?'
Lynn let Hermione wipe her mouth, feeling nothing. 'It's sweet.'
Hermione sighed, selected another pastry, and held it out.
'Eat slowly. When you finish, tell me what's in it—so savour it, okay?'
Her mind obliging, Lynn nodded, took the pastry, and began awkwardly, bite by bite, to taste it.
Watching her slow down, Hermione's eyes curved in delight, her whole face glowing with happiness.
Hermione gave her slightly curled hair a playful shake and grinned at Lynn. "Well? Can you taste what it's made of?"
Lynn swallowed the pastry, nodded slowly, and her flat, mechanical voice sounded again.
"Pumpkin."
"Exactly!" Hermione beamed, took Lynn's hand and stood up.
"Come on, let's try something else."
"Okay..."
"Hermione... I really don't get it. The exams are still weeks away—why are we cramming like this?" Ron stared miserably at the book in front of him, his voice thick with complaint.
Harry, seated beside him, looked equally pained; ever since the second Quidditch match last weekend, Hermione had dragged them into full-on revision mode.
No matter how often they pointed out that the exams were still weeks off, Hermione was determined to start now.
"Ron," Hermione glanced up, "don't be daft—of course we start now."
"Honestly, I should've begun at Christmas," she fretted, tugging at her hair. "What was I thinking, not starting earlier?"
"Merlin..." Ron closed his eyes, opened them again, glanced at Lynn—who sat nearby reading an extra textbook—then leaned in to Harry's ear.
"If Hermione keeps this up... she'll be as hard-core as Lynn."
Harry sneaked a look at Hermione, confirmed she wasn't listening, then nodded.
"Well, they both love studying."
"Yeah..." Ron's expression grew complicated. "They're truly in love with learning; I just can't manage to feel the same."
Harry nodded solemnly. "Same here."
Time crawled past amid the boys' agony; when Harry next lifted his head he spotted a familiar, towering figure by a bookshelf.
He rubbed his eyes to be sure.
Harry nudged Ron. "Look over there—is that Hagrid come to read?"
"Mm—what?" Ron, dazed by revision, scrubbed his face awake.
Following Harry's gaze he blinked in surprise. "That's Hagrid all right."
"Never thought I'd see Hagrid borrowing books," Harry murmured, puzzled.
"Looks like it. Wonder what he's reading," Ron said, intrigued.
Hermione, having finished a section, looked up to find Harry and Ron staring off.
She frowned. "Harry, Ron—focus."
Harry leaned forward and whispered, "Behind us—Hagrid's about to check out a book."
Hermione blinked, glanced past them, and there indeed was Hagrid, thumbing through a tome.
"Know what books are on that shelf?" Ron asked eagerly.
Hermione's mouth twitched. "Ron... how would I know every shelf? I haven't a clue."
"Oh." Ron deflated.
Still... Hermione turned to Lynn, who was immersed in her book, deaf to their chatter.
She waited until Lynn turned a page, then asked, "Lynn, what kind of books are on that shelf over there?"
Hearing her full name, Lynn surfaced from study, glanced at the shelf, and answered at once.
"Books about Dragons."
"Dragons?!" Hermione's eyes widened; she swallowed, a bad feeling creeping in.
Harry and Ron exchanged alarmed looks—why would Hagrid be reading about Dragons?
Harry offered, "Well... Hagrid told me he likes Dragons, so maybe he just wants to learn more?"
Ron nodded hopefully; Hermione bit her lip and tried to believe it.
Lynn, however, calmly studied Hagrid, noting the cover colour and visible design of the book he held.
In under two seconds she identified it: a guide to hatching and raising Dragons.
Analysis complete, she coolly returned to her reading; the outside world didn't matter—study came first.
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