Supernatural and the Philosopher's Stone

Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

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 corridor, minus Sam and Dean, they left, we 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 Harry and I passed Quirrell these days we gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and colorcoding all her notes. I also followed her doing, but Harry and Ron didn't.

"Hermione, Sariah, 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 all."

"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..."

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 gun as the Christmas ones. Hermione and I were helping Ron and Harry recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time with Hermione and I, trying to get through all their 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.

"Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" Ron suddenly said.

I looked up from my Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

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

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got our interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He suddenly looked suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron said 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," Harry said, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy--"

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

"See you later, then," Harry said.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione asked. 

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"It might be," I said.

"I'm going to see what section he was in," Ron said, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.