Hairy Potter-Addams and the Philosopher's Stone: An Altogether Ooky Tale

Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

It seemed the Professor Quirrell had more mettle than the children expected. Although he seemed to get paler and thinner as the next week passed, he didn't seem to have caved to Snape's pressure. Anytime they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry and his friends would put an ear close to the door and listen for Fluffy's ominous growl. For Hairy, it was a comforting experience twice over: the Stone was still safe, and Fluffy's snarl sounded a lot like Kitty snoring by the fire on a winter evening. 

Snape was in a progressively worse temper, which must have meant the Stone was safe. He may also have been aggravated by the increasing number of Slytherins taking part in open baseball practices every Saturday. There were now six Slytherin kids showing up, half of what Dumbledore agreed was necessary to charter a house team. Quirrell seemed to have taken a liking to the game as well, and could often be seen watching the Saturday practices from a distance.

Harry and Ron were doing their part to keep the Stone safe: When Harry passed Quirrell in the corridor, he gave the nervous professor an encouraging sort of smile. He raised his hand to ask questions, which seemed to brighten Quirrell up a bit. Ron started telling people off for making fun of Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione, on the other hand, was less concerned about the Philosopher's Stone and more focused on study schedules and colour-coding her notes and old homework assignments. Hairy procured a set of neon highlighters for her for Christmas (Ron was gifted American Muggle candies) and she was getting maximum use out of them. Harry and Ron would've been content to leave her to her own devices, but she kept goading them to do the same.

"Hermione," groaned Ron when she interrupted a chess game, "the exams are ages away. Knight to H-1."

"Ten weeks," she corrected, "which is all of five seconds to Nicolas Flamel."

"We're not over six hundred years old. Besides, why are you studying? It's not like you don't already know everything." He scowled as Harry's queen smashed his rook. "Thanks, Hermione."

She ignored his grumbling. "These exams will determine our futures. We need to pass them to get into the second year. Oh, what's gotten into me? I should've started studying a month ago..."

To the boys' dismay, the teachers seemed to be of the same mind as Hermione. The homework kept stacking up, to the point that the Easter holidays found them sitting around their usual table, listening to Hermione recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood and practicing wand movements. Yet again, Ron and Harry found themselves passing every free moment in the library. But instead of tracking down a mysterious alchemist, it was just trying to keep up with their homework.

One afternoon, they finally snapped. Hairy peeled off his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes. "I got a letter from Wednesday this morning," he said. "She and Pugsley just have to do math and geography and introductory Spanish classes. Ron, I want to take Spanish classes."

Ron let out a frustrated growl and threw down his quill. "I'll never remember all of this! Harry--I can't do it anymore." He gazed longingly out the window at the clear, blue sky. The warm, soft breezes ruffling the trees made one dare to believe summer was just around the corner. After weeks of spring rain, the weather was finally good again, and Ron and Harry could see Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang throwing a baseball back and forth on the lawn.

Harry ran a hand through his untidy hair. "Yes, you can. Come on. One more hour of this, and then we get to go to baseball practice. And there's the game this Friday--Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff? It'll be a great game." According to the ceding chart from the previous four games, Gryffindor was in the lead to win their short season. The winner of this next game would play them for the Hogwarts Series title. There wasn't exactly a cup or trophy at stake yet--just bragging rights--but Hairy expected Dumbledore would pull some award out of his hat, like house points or a surprise plaque for the trophy room.