Our Secret Marriage: First Year

Chapter 12: I know who is Nicolas Flamel

"What's the matter with you? You look terrible." I murmur, during study hall which was after one gruelling Quidditch practice. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow didn't stop the Gryffindor team from practising. Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the three of us about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," Hermione says at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron adds.

"Pretend to break your leg," I suggest.

"Really break your leg," Ron countered.

"I can't," Harry sighed. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the great hall. How he had managed to c was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what I recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione and me, going up to him I perform the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?"I ask 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!" said Ron. "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.  Giving Neville a small smile, I silently promise to curse Draco when I get back to the common room. "Besides by the way Victoria has that nasty gleam in her eyes, I know she's planning something awful on my behalf."

I blush having been caught. I flip open the library book Professor Snape recommended I read and I find myself reading a passage about Nicolas Flamel. Jumping up in excitement, I slam the book on the table causing Harry, Ron and Hermione to jump.

"I found Flamel!"

Dumbledore who 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 with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

"Where did you get this?" Harry asks, bewildered, looking up at me. I blush recalling the way I had...'talked' to Professor Snape.

"Um...I picked it out for a little bit of reading during the holidays," I answer, not looking him in the eye.

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Harry continued. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry grew serious.

"I'm going to play," he tells us. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Hermione added softly.

As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, despite whatever he had told us previously. The rest of the Gryffindor team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? even as a Slytherin, I don't want to see such an unfair match to be played.  Potions lessons are turning into a sort of weekly torture, Professor Snape was so horrible to Harry. Despite me, defending Harry and helping him out of tough spots, Professor Snape treated him no better.

On the day of the match, Ron, Hermione, and I  found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why we looked so grim and worried, or why we had all brought our wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse while I have been practising the Stupefy. Hermione had gotten the idea from Draco using it on Neville, and if that didn't work...I'd have to Stupefy him like that bloody troll and We are ready to go to any means if Professor Snape showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I know," Ron snaps. "If you want to nag, nag at Vic. Her role is more important."