THE WITCHING HOUR ➸ h. potter

13 - dragons

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than we'd thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet.

Every time we passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I would press our ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever I passed Quirrell these days I tried to give him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron and Harry had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

But for some reason, I had a strange, sinky feeling whenever I saw him. As if my body was telling me to run as far away from Quirrell as I could and never look back. A fear that began haunting me - so much so, that he even started appearing in my nightmares.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone and Snape and Quirrell. She had started drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes. I wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging all of us to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it's an A."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me. . ."

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on us that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Groaning and yawning, we spent most of our free time in the library with her, trying to get through all of our extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day we'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until Ron said, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

I too, snapped my head up towards to door.

Hagrid shuffled into view, he seemed to be hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that caught my interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?"

He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St-"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy-"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully.