The Tale of a Hogwarts Student

Chapter Eleven: Finding Nicolas Flamel

On the journey back to Hogwarts, Mafalda joined Meredith and Hermione in their compartment. Mafalda didn't really talk to them and Hermione seemed inclined to pretend she wasn't there at all but Meredith was just happy that her sister had at least made the effort. She wasn't, however, surprised that when they got back to school Mafalda immediately went back to ignoring her.
Meredith and Hermione found the boys sitting in the Gryffindor common room playing a game of chess.
After catching up on how they each spent their Christmas, Harry told them about finding the Mirror of Erised using the invisibility cloak he'd mysteriously received.
"I can't believe you went sneaking around every night Harry," Hermione said, "you could have been caught!"
"Well he did get caught," responded Ron. He looked at them smugly, enjoying the suspense.
"Well," snapped Meredith, "what happened then?"
"Dumbledore was in there one night waiting for me and he somehow knew I was there even with the cloak," Harry replied.
"He told me not to go looking for the mirror again," he continued softly, "and I won't but I can't stop dreaming about my parents."
Meredith looked at Harry sadly. She couldn't imagine what that felt like and she didn't know how to make Harry look less upset. Hermione seemed just as concerned and uncomfortable as she patted his arm reassuringly.
"Dumbledore was right though, that mirror really could drive you mad," said Ron, breaking the awkward silence.
Harry just shrugged at this and Meredith grappled in her mind for a new conversation point.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "did you find anything on Nicolas Flamel?"
Harry and Ron shared a sheepish look.
"Told you they'd forget," Meredith said to Hermione, who had a frown to rival any disappointed parent.
"I'm sure I've read the name somewhere," Harry said with half hearted confidence, "we'll find it soon, I'm sure."
Once term had started again they spent ten minutes everyday on their breaks trying to find anything on Nicolas Flamel. Meredith was kept so busy that she barely had time to miss Mafalda. No one was as busy as Harry though, since he had quidditch practice all the time. Meredith couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Harry dry and not covered in mud. The next match was against Hufflepuff and if Gryffindor won they'd be ahead of Slytherin for the cup.
On one particularly rainy evening, Harry joined them in the common room, his face was pale and he stared sullenly into the carpet.
"What's your problem then?" asked Meredith, looking up from her wretched history essay.
"You look horrible," said Ron.
"Oh nice and sensitive as always Ron," quipped Hermione before turning to Harry with a worried look, "you do look like you're a bit ill Harry."
Speaking quietly so that no one else could hear, Harry said, "Wood just told us that Snape is the referee for the upcoming game. He's going to try and throw me off my broom again for sure."
"You can't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.
"Really break your leg," said Ron.
Despite herself, Meredith scoffed into her hand.
"There's no reserve seeker though," she said after a moment, "if he doesn't play then Gryffindor doesn't play."
Before anyone else could respond Neville came toppling into the common room, his legs restricted from a Leg-Locker curse. Everyone fell about laughing, Meredith clutching her sides as she laughed along. The only one not laughing was Hermione, who got up and did the counter curse. Hermione led Neville over to their spot by the fire where Neville proceeded to give Meredith a hurt look, as if she was the only one that had been laughing. She felt a twinge of guilt which she mentally shrugged away- Harry and Ron laughed harder than she did and they didn't get any looks so why should she feel ashamed?
"What happened?" Hermione asked him.
"Malfoy," he said with a tremble, "he caught me outside the library and said he was looking for someone to test that on."
"Report him," Hermione urged Neville. "Tell Professor McGonagall!"
Neville trembled even more at this.
"I don't want to cause anymore trouble," he mumbled, eyes focused on his feet.
"You have to stand up for yourself Neville," said Ron.
"You don't have to tell me I'm not brave enough for Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville sobbed.
Meredith thought that maybe the hat had made a mistake- Neville clearly had the courage of a field mouse- but she kept quiet as Harry pulled a chocolate frog out of his pocket and handed it to Neville. He took it with a watery smile.
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The sorting hat put you in Gryffindor for a reason and where's Malfoy? He's in stinking Slytherin."
Neville let out a shaky laugh and unwrapped the chocolate frog.
"Thanks Harry... I think I'll go to bed... Do you want the card? You collect them don't you?"
Meredith watched Neville walk away and felt that twinge of guilt- especially since she hadn't said anything to make him feel better.
"I'll be right back," she told the group. "I just want to apologise to Neville for laughing."
She didn't wait for a response as she chased after Neville. She caught him halfway up the stairs and grabbed his arm.
"Oh... it's you," he said glumly, looking down at her reproachfully.
"I'm sorry for laughing at you Neville, it wasn't very kind of me," she said, feeling her face burn. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm happy you're in Gryffindor, okay? And Malfoy is a horrid little rat that I'd happily hex for you if you liked."
She said the last bit in a rush, feeling like she would just burn up with embarrassment.
"Thank you," Neville said after a pause, "I guess it was a little funny seeing me hop into the room like that."
"Friends?" she asked.
"Friends," he responded. "Goodnight Meredith."
"Night Nev!"
When she made it back downstairs Hermione was missing from where they'd been sat. Before Meredith had a chance to ask where she had gone, a blur of bushy hair whipped past her and slammed an enormous old book on the table.
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered enthusiastically.
"What exactly are we all so excited about?" Meredith asked.
"That chocolate frog card Neville gave Harry mentioned Flamel and something to do with alchemy and Dragon's blood," Ron said shortly. "It was a Dumbledore card, if you're interested."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the short explanation and continued flicking through the pages at a frightening speed.
"Aha! Here it is," she said, "Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
Harry and Meredith blinked dumly at Hermione as Ron scratched his head- none of them having any idea what she meant.
"Oh, honestly," Hermione snapped, "do any of you read?"
She pushed the book towards them and pointed to a short paragraph. From what Meredith understood of the passage, it seemed that this stone could turn any metal into gold and could produce the Elixir of Life, which could make the drinker immortal.
"Wow," Meredith said, "six hundred and sixty-five. That is one old man."
"See?" Hermione said, ignoring Meredith. "Fluffy must be guarding the stone! And Nicolas Flamel asked Dumbledore to protect it 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 turns stuff into gold and gives you eternal life! No wonder Snape wants it so badly!" Harry said.
"It's no wonder we couldn't find anything on him," said Ron, "he's ancient history at his age."
The next day, Meredith was partnered up with Harry in Defense Against the Dark Arts when Meredith brought up the match against Hufflepuff.
"What are you going to do about Snape?" she asked him. "That's still an issue even though we know who Flamel is."
"I have to play," he said back. "If I don't, the Slytherin's will think it's because I'm scared of Snape and I'll never hear the end of it. I just have to prove them wrong."
"That's very Gryffindor of you... and hopefully it's not very stupid of you too," Meredith said. "I'd hate for you to lose your life to a match against Hufflepuff."