It had been a few weeks since the mirror incident and Harry had given up on it since Dumbledore found him there. Still, the mirrors content haunted her dreams of "it could be".
Petunia was studying with Ron and Hermione when Harry came into the common room, face white as a ghost. Petunia prodded Ron, gesturing to his shaking friend.
"What's the matter with you? You look terrible."
Whispering, Harry told them about Snape's sudden desire to be a Quidditch referee.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.
"Really break your leg," Petunia chipped in.
"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
"Better than you dying." Petunia whispered, ignoring the glares.
At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.
Everyone laughed except Hermione and Petunia. Hermione leapt up and performed the countercurse as Petunia smacked Harry and Ron's heads together to stop their laughter. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. "What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "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!" Petunia said gently. "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.
"I didn't say that Neville." Petunia sighed, "bravery comes in many more forms than just standing up to bullies."
Harry handed him a chocolate frog, he looked as if he was about to 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." Petunia shot him a glare. Not all Slytherins were bad, but Petunia decided not to pick a fight right now.
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 groaned, flipping the card over. "He was the first one I ever--"
He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.
"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'!"
Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.
"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. The three had barely enough time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.
