Hogwarts Reimagined

When Rhiannon and her friends returned to Hogwarts in April, they were wholeheartedly glad of the reprieve that their Easter holiday had brought them. Preparation for end-of-year exams was in full swing and their workload was increased exponentially from its’ previous comparative leniency.

Outside of studies, Quidditch also ramped up with Gryffindor maintaining a consistent top spot in the ranking for the Quidditch Cup. Practices became longer, and so it was a pretty stressed and weary Rhiannon who found herself wandering down to Hagrid’s cabin one afternoon after the morning’s game. Surprised not to find him anywhere outside, she headed up to the door and knocked.

After a few moments of muted crashes and semi-audible swearing from inside, Hagrid opened the door. He looked haggard and worn at the seams, but he brightened when he saw Rhiannon, Ron, Hermione and Neville on the doorstep. “Come in, come in – extra hands, great. Got a litter o’ brand new half-Kneazle kittens an’ lost their mother, so I’m shut in with the poor wee blighters feedin’ em.” he explained, ushering them inside and closing the door quietly behind them.

The kids settled themselves on the rug in front of the fire and peered into the basket of kittens, careful not to crowd them even as they wondered at how tiny they were. There were seven in all, a mixture of colours from pale cloud-sky-blue to a soft creamy light orange, and some a mixture of the two colours in patches like Rhiannon’s own cat. Most of them had slightly squished faces, and all had white markings to some extent. The four students cooed over them for a little while, but they were soon put to task bottle-feeding the kittens to relieve Hagrid from the task.

When the kittens were fed they could relax somewhat, and the four relocated themselves to the two spare armchairs while Hagrid made tea. “Hey, Hagrid, heard from Charlie over Ostara. Says Fluffy’s doin’ really good at the sanctuary, they got him lookin’ after clutches of orphaned dragonets. He sent us photos, see?” Ron said, fishing some crumpled photographs out of his pocket as he spoke.

Hagrid brightened, taking the photographs from Ron and settling down in the third armchair to look at them more closely. From one of his shirt pockets he produced a pair of very battered spectacles and with them he peered more closely at the pictures. “That’s a clutch o’ Norwegian Ridgebacks, innit?” he said excitedly, holding out one of the photos to Ron. Ron peered at it and shrugged, shaking his head. “You’d know more than me. They’re black and scaly.” he replied. Rhiannon wiggled her hands, grasping for the photo which she inspected more closely than Ron had. “Looks like Ridgebacks, yyeah,” she agreed. “T-they’re venomous, right? I-I guess Fluffy’d be safer than human handlers with them.”

Hagrid nodded, and for a while they chattered happily about different species of dragon and those the sanctuary specialised in. “’S’ good Fluffy’s doin’ alright. Would be a shame, for all that...” he murmured, trailing off to stare down at his half-empty tea mug.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked awkwardly, sharing a glance with her friends – nobody else seemed willing to ask, but Hagrid was clearly stewing about something.

The gentle man shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning down. He drained the last of his tea and set the cup down on the side table with a resonating thunk.

“Got notice after Hallowse’en.. I’m t’ pack up by end o’ year. Dumbledore’s pissed about Fluffy.” he said finally, refusing to look at the students.

The four looked at eachother, horrified, and the three who typically spoke burst out protesting. Even Neville scowled, and Ron had some choice curse words for the whole affair. “That’s not bloody on, he was starving the damn dog,” he protested angrily.

“Look, ye’re preachin’ to the choir but there’s nothin’ I can do about it.” Hagrid replied, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. One of the kittens woke up and started to cry, and ever so gently he lifted it out of the basket in front of the fire and picked up the bottle, making a strange sort of picture with the tiny creature.

“W-was it because’ve what, w-what he was guarding?” Rhiannon asked hesitantly. Hagrid startled, upsetting the kitten as he did so, and shook his head violently even as he set about comforting the tiny creature again. “Guardin’? Now I don’t know how ye – ye stay out o’ this, hear? I’m in trouble as is, ye don’t need t’ be.” he snapped, uncharacteristically sharp.

“So he was guarding something!” Hermione burst out triumphantly. Hagrid glared at her, the expression’s effect somewhat lessened by the tiny blue-and-brown kitten cradled in his hand. “Tha’s Dumbledore’s business. Between ‘im and Nicolas Flamel, t’is. You all need to butt out – ‘m serious. Go on, get, back to the castle with ye, I got stuff to do.” he said, his tone final as he jerked his head at the door.

Shamefaced, the four of them slipped out of the cabin and slunk back to the castle to study, feeling more than a little guilty. They retreated to their studies and the matter wasn’t really thought any more of – Hagrid’s response left them curious of course, but there was no way they could look into it any further without possibly getting Hagrid into even more trouble.

So Rhiannon and her friends threw themselves back into study for their exams, the year slowly slipping away from them. April led into early May, and the school year’s end was looming ever closer. They didn’t think any more of their mystery for some time, until it confronted them again as they studied alchemical history and theory for their impending Transfiguration exam.

Something cannot be created from nothing, and the theory presented the Philosopher’s Stone as an example. As they’d read before, it was the crowning achievement of French wizarding scientist Nicolas Flamel. It could seem to create from nothing – gold, the Elixir – and the theory they were studying went into how that was not in fact the case, laying out the principles of the transfiguration on an elemental level involved with that as the example. And so their mystery was brought back to relevance.

“W-w-wait, wait a sec, Hermione – Hagrid said-” Rhiannon mumbled, shaking her friend’s arm as she put the first pieces of the mystery together, her words tangling up as she tried to explain what she’d already figured out in her head. Luckily, Hermione’s brain worked much the same, and Neville was already leaning in excitedly, jabbing a forefinger at the book as he too came to the same conclusion.

“Hagrid said it was between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel – and Rhiannon, you said that it was just a small package you got that day from Gringotts. There’s nothing else it could be!” Hermione exclaimed, wide-eyed. “And F-f-firenze, they said – something hidden, at Hogwarts, something that could bring eternal l-life, they hinted at iiitt when w-we found the unicorn,” Rhiannon stammered, nodding in agreement with Hermione even as she shuddered at the memory of the slithering figure trailing mercury blood across the frozen leaves.

Ron, Faye and Parvati were left thoroughly out of the loop, and Ron held up his hands to stop the torrent of half-joined snippets of information. “Wait, wait, wait. Slow down and go back to the start please. You’ve obviously figured somethin’ out but the rest of us are a bit lost here.” he asked, gesturing with his wand to the book that had started the whole revelation.

Rhiannon, Hermione and Neville looked a little shamefaced and shared a self-deprecating laugh, before attempting to lay it out for their other friends. “O-okay so, we g-guessed Fluffy was guarding ssssomething, remember? Because’ve the trap door on the floor, and Hagrid confirmed it. And h-hhh, Hermione, help?” Rhiannon stammered, looking to Hermione for rescue as she struggled to put the ideas together in a cohesive structure that the ohers could follow. Hermione took up the narrative easily enough.

“He pretty much confirmed it, remember when he chucked us out? And Neville – yeah, don’t worry, I got it-“ she explained, with an aside to Neville who was gesturing frantically. “He said it was between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. With that information, combined with Rhi’s conversation with Firenze around Yule, we’re pretty sure it’s the Philosopher’s Stone.” she finished, slapping her hands on the table as she finished.

Ron, Parvati and Faye stared at her, dumbfounded. Then Faye chimed in with a nod to Neville, practically vibrating with excitement. “You said Hagrid was in trouble, yeah? And he got told a bit after Hallows? That’s gotta be it – remember, those bruises on Professor Snape? The ones Neville explained were devils’ snare welts, or somethin’ similar? That’s gotta be why Hagrid’s in the shits with Dumbledore, like. If it’s somethin’ like the Stone, Fluffy couldnt’a been the only thing guarding it, but someone must’ve broke in at Hallows – Snape, maybe sure, but coulda been stopping someone else too – and that’s why Hagrid’s in trouble! Us bustin’ Fluffy out compromised the Stone, ‘ve course they’re mad.”

Neville nodded emphatically, grinning at Faye as she finished speaking. Rhiannon and Hermione shared a worried glance.

“S-someone wassss, the Forest at Yule. K-killed the unicorn. F-firen-sssze, said they wanted t-to hang on to life. So, it’s, hhhh, it’s p-probably the s-same person after the Stone. And it c-could be Snape, the broom? B-but we can’t assume, there’s no motive for h-him to be it. S-so we just know someone’s after it.” Rhiannon mumbled, laying out the facts of the matter to make sense of them for herself as much as for the others.

Ron slapped his hand on the table, startling Rhiannon and Neville who flinched and scooted their chairs backwards. “Sorry. Um. But, there is a motive. He was a Death Eater, one of His lot before – you know. Dumbledore, he defended him after but you know, you can never really trust someone after that, like. And, some think He never actually died like. So eternal life, the blood and the Stone... it would make sense, if it was Him trying to get at it, and someone helping him.” Ron explained, looking down at his hands as if he expected them to find fault with his logic.

Faye swore, she had been nodding along with Ron’s explanation. “Fuck, if it’s Snape he’s a straight shot at the stone soon as exams are done.” she chimed in. “I know Hagrid said stay out an’ all but-” she trailed off, cut off by Hermione. “We can’t just, rush in. We’ve got exams, we can’t just ditch them. After exams we’ll go to McGonagall, she can get Dumbledore on it.” she rationalised.

Reluctantly they agreed. It wasn’t like Professor Snape could do anything right now – he was as bound by the school system and social appearances as they were, albeit with more power inside that framework. They’d do something as soon as they could – that was the agreement. Things would probably sit tight until then.

___________________________________________________________________

Now that he was their main suspect, it seemed as if everything Professor Snape did had a potential double meaning. May whiled away into June, and the first-years were thrown head-first into their exams, leaving little time for their suspicions.

First-year exams were held over a single week, the second week of June. As non-academic subjects, they had no exams for Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures and certainly not Flying in their first year, but that still left them with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic, Potions and Astronomy – six exams. Hermione had chewed her nails down to nubs, Rhiannon had started sleepwalking and both Ron and Neville had to be sent to Madam Pomfrey several times for medical management of their anxiety surrounding the exams.

But at last they were over, and it was Friday the 7^th of June on which the six of them found themselves with nothing to do, and the threat of Professor Snape staring them down. This was late in the evening after their History exam and so they can be forgiven for some delay in remembering the imminent threat.

When at last they remembered, the four girls disturbed Lavender in their haste to get downstairs to find the others. Rhiannon threw on her boots and hand-knitted jumper over her pyjamas in a hurry, even in summer the castle was still persistently chilly at night, and almost tumbled down the stairs behind Hermione.

They found Ron and Neville waiting for them, and all six of them rushed out of the common room to find Professor McGonagall. The Gryffindor Head of House had her office on the fifth floor nearby her classroom, and they found her at a desk with a tower of what looked to be exam papers when they burst in.

“What are you lot doing up at this hour? Rest, all of you!” the professor exclaimed, making shooing motions at them as if she could waft them out of the room with a gesture. In fairness, she probably could.

“We can’t, Professor. Is Headmaster Dumbledore here? We don’t want to see him but – it’s sort of secret, we can’t...” Hermione started bravely but trailed off under Professor McGonagall’s weary glare.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago at the urgent behest of the Ministry. He’ll be in London by now.” McGonagall replied sharply. “Now go on, to bed with you.”

“P-professor, nnnn, no it’s about the Philosopher’s Stone!” Rhiannon burst out, wringing her hands together and almost shouting the last words as the stuck in her throat.

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected of them at this hour, it was certainly not that. She jerked, sending her tower of papers cascading across the floor as she stared at the six Gryffindor students. “What- how do you know about -” she spluttered, straightening her glasses that had been knocked loose in her shock.

“Professor, McGonagall, we um – we think – no, we know that Sn – someone’s going to try and steal the Stone. You’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.” Faye filled in for Rhiannon, who wilted under the pressure. The professor eyed them all with a mixture of her earlier shock and a growing suspicion.

“Headmaster Dumbledore will be back tomorrow.” Professor McGonagall replied finally, laying her hands flat on the desk. “I don’t know how you found out about the Stone but rest assured, no one can steal it. It’s too well protected.”

“But Professor, Snape is – he, we saw the Devil’s Snare welts, after Halloween! He’s going to try to steal it! Hagrid’s in trouble because of Fluffy and now Snape can get straight to the...” Ron burst out, his tone frustrated. McGonagall shot him a glare that could shatter glass and he trailed off into silence. “Professor Snape, whatever his manner, is trusted by Headmaster Dumbledore. I don’t know how you – Devil’s Snare? How you put that together is... well, nevermind. Professor Snape is, along with the other professors, involved in the protection of the Stone – as I said, it is well guarded. Go back to bed, all of you – this is not a matter for students, and it is being handled.” the professor snapped, her tone growing a little heated.

Clearly the matter was closed as far as Professor McGonagall was concerned, and she shooed the students from her office. “If you can’t sleep for worrying, go to Madam Pomfrey – it’s not uncommon after exams. Now good night, all of you.” she said with an air of finality, and Rhiannon heard a bolt slide closed as she closed the office door in front of them.

Ron was incensed. “It’s tonight,” he whispered as they crept away from the door. “Snape, he’ll go through the trapdoor tonight – he’s got Dumbledore out of the way... the Ministry, they don’t even like the man!” he added, huddling in an alcove as the six of them conferred.

Faye shook her head grimly. “Then it’s up to us. Come on, it’s late, he’s probably already there. If McGonagall won’t listen and Dumbledore’s not here... it’s up to us.”

Rhiannon, Hermione and Neville stared at her openmouthed. “A-are you alright, Faye? What can we do, better than a pack of the professors’ protections?” Hermione asked, horrified. Rhiannon bit her lip, already trembling with anxiety. “Nnn, we can’t – we’ll be killed or worse expelled and we-” she trailed off, cut off by Parvati’s helpless laughter. “Or worse, expelled? Rhi, your priorities are all off,” she replied, still giggling.

Rhiannon didn’t want to get into a long explanation of why expulsion was so much more frightening than death, and she shrank back against the wall. Hermione squeezed her hand and shook her head, but was stopped from speaking by Faye. “Look, no – Ron’s right, the Ministry and Dumbledore’ve been on the outs for years. We’re the only ones who know shit and the longer we spend talking about it, the closer Snape gets to the Stone – if he’s protecting it, he knows how to get around everyone else’s wards too don’t he?”

And that was that, really. Rhiannon and Hermione’s protests were silenced, and they all looked at eachother in the darkening hallway, coming to the same conclusion. And so instead of heading back to the seventh floor, the six first-years found the stairs down and headed straight for the out-of-bounds section of the third floor, Rhiannon clutching Neville’s hand tightly. In the dark every rustle sounded like it could be Peeves, every creak a footstep, and Rhiannon’s heart felt as if it clogged her throat.

Once again they stood before the enormous door that had once imprisoned Fluffy. Rhiannon squeezed her eyes shut tightly at the flood of images, memories of the smell swamping her. She leaned against the doorway and shook her head once at Ron’s muttered question. “Fff-fine, jus’ a minute,” she mumbled. And then the moment passed and the six of them tumbled into the room beyond the door, almost slamming it shut behind them in haste.

The room was empty. There was no trace of the smell that had pervaded it when it held Fluffy, nothing but empty chains still shackled to bolts on the stone floor. The wooden trapdoor the dog had once guarded stood open, waiting before them like a hungry mouth in the low light. Someone – Hermione – lit a wand, and they peered in, but could see nothing, only a yawning pit below.