A Trio of Serpents

8: Nicolas Flamel, Christmas, Dragons, Oh My!

Summary: Who is Nicolas Flamel? And what to do with a baby dragon?

November brought with it the chill of winter. Everywhere they looked seemed to be tinted with gray. Hagrid spent every morning defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field.

The trio's friendship had grown since the troll incident. They kept an eye out for each other, and the taunts subsided. People like Malfoy and Parkinson still sneered at them, but they had the sense not to antagonize them for now at least, especially since the notice that bullying was not to be tolerated appeared a couple mornings later.

The day before the first Quidditch match, they were all huddled outside in the courtyard looking over spells. Hermione had conjured a bright blue fire and put it in a jam jar to keep them from freezing.

Professor Snape crossed the yard. He saw the trio and paused as if he wanted to say something. Then he seemed to decide it wasn't worth it and continued walking.

"Did you notice Snape's leg?" Harry said, watching him go. "I could have sworn I saw blood on it."

"That would explain why he was limping," Hermione said thoughtfully. "But what could he have been doing to get hurt in the first place?"

"Maybe it has to do with the third floor," Ron suggested in a low voice. "Remember what Hagrid said when we went to visit him?"

They had taken Hermione to meet Hagrid a few days ago and Hagrid had accidentally let it slip that there was a three-headed dog there.

"Right, Fluffy." Harry wrinkled his nose. Who in their right mind would call a vicious beast Fluffy?

They were too curious to leave it alone, so after the Quidditch match, in which Slytherin won, they went down to Hagrid, who didn't seem to be taking Gryffindor's loss to heart.

"We saw that Snape was bitten by Fluffy," Harry said.

"Oh?" Hagrid said in what should had been a clueless tone. "Well, Fluffy can get a bit lonesome. He probably just wanted to play."

"I would, too," Ron agreed, "if I had been guarding a forbidden corridor all term."

"Well..."

"And whatever it's guarding must be pretty important," Hermione added.

"Now see here!" Hagrid said. "You're meddling in things that don't concern you. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, and you forget what it's guarding, that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel —"

He cut himself off, but the damage was done.

"Nicolas Flamel... I know I've heard that name before somewhere." Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Your memory's better than mine," said Ron, whose attention was more on his essay than the mysterious Nicolas Flamel.

Harry shivered and pulled his cloak over him more tightly. It was mid-December and snow had fallen that morning, sending the already low temperature plummeting like a stone. It was worse in the Slytherin common room, and although it did have a fire, it didn't stop the most outer edges from freezing.

Hermione came walking over and set down her bag. From its depths, she pulled out several books.

"Where did you get those?" Ron asked, putting his quill down to take a closer look.

"The Restricted Section," Hermione replied.

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, did you just say —?"

"The Restricted Section, yes." Hermione didn't even look at them, just began perusing the first one. "Don't worry, I'll sneak back in and put these back before they notice."