Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, had been restless lately.
During the Christmas holidays, he wandered around the castle under the invisibility cloak that had mysteriously appeared in his possession. One night, while exploring, he stumbled upon a magical mirror. In it, he saw his long-dead parents smiling lovingly at him. The sight struck him deeply. It was the first time he had ever seen them—pictures didn't count. But the second time he visited the mirror, he was caught by Professor Dumbledore.
"The child stays up in the middle of the night and runs around," Dumbledore had said with his usual calmness. "I'll be moving the mirror elsewhere tomorrow."
The encounter left a deep mark on Harry. Seeing his parents, even if only their reflections, made him think of that fateful night—the night that shaped wizarding history and took away the people he loved most. Still, he knew Dumbledore was right. It was dangerous to lose oneself in empty dreams and forget about real life.
Soon, however, Harry didn't have much time to dwell on the mirror. The upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had everyone's attention, and Oliver Wood, their captain, was determined to squeeze every ounce of practice out of the team. Harry spent almost all his free time on his broomstick, training for victory.
And as usual, hard work paid off. In the match against Hufflepuff, it took Harry only five minutes to catch the Golden Snitch—right under Professor Snape's nose. Just imagining Snape's face twisting in frustration made Harry want to laugh out loud.
But his good mood didn't last long. After the game, as he was leaving the pitch, he spotted Snape and Professor Quirrell heading toward the Forbidden Forest. Curiosity got the better of him, and he followed.
What he discovered made his blood run cold.
Hidden deep in the shadows, Snape was threatening Quirrell. Harry heard him demand to know how to get past "the big dog." It didn't take much to realize which dog he meant—Fluffy, the giant three-headed creature guarding the trapdoor.
Harry's victory high evaporated instantly, like cold water poured over his head.
When he returned to the castle, Gryffindor Tower was still buzzing with celebration. He pulled Ron and Hermione aside into an empty classroom. After checking twice to make sure Peeves wasn't around, he shut the door and told them everything he'd seen.
Before Hermione could speak, Ron burst out first. "We already know that old bat isn't a good person! He's the only one in school who'd go after the Philosopher's Stone. Didn't you say last time he got bitten on the leg? That proves it! He's trying to get through that trapdoor. We should expose him now!"
Then Ron glanced sideways at Hermione and muttered, "Honestly, Harry, you could've just told me. You didn't need to bring her. She's too friendly with the Slytherins. What if she runs off to tell that Selwyn guy?"
Harry knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say.
Sure enough, Hermione's face went red—not with embarrassment, but anger. "Fine," she said sharply. "You two go play your little games without me. I don't know who was supposed to help find out about Nicolas Flamel, but some people can't even last an afternoon in the library before giving up! Don't look for me again."
With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Harry stared at Ron in disbelief. "You've done it again," he said flatly. "Did you forget Halloween already?"
Back then, Ron had mocked Hermione for having no friends. If it hadn't been for Solim, Hermione would've been killed by the troll in the girls' bathroom. Ron's words clearly still stung.
Ron sighed, trying to justify himself. "Harry, she's too close to the Slytherins. We can't take any chances. The best thing is for us to handle this ourselves. We'll find a way to expose Snape's plan."
Harry frowned. "And how exactly do we do that? Tell a professor? Do you think they'll believe us?"
"What, we just sit and watch Snape steal the Stone?" Ron snapped back. "Harry, we're the only ones who know what he's up to. We have to stop him!"
"We could tell Professor McGonagall and then—"
Harry didn't finish before Ron cut him off. "We haven't even tried! Maybe they'll believe us."
Harry shook his head. "You don't like Slytherins, I get it. But you have to admit Solim was right. Professors won't trust two first-years with something like the Philosopher's Stone. We're not even supposed to know about it. If they ask how we found out, what will we say?"
Ron made a frustrated sound. "Tch. If the professors don't believe us, then we'll just take the Stone first. That way Snape can't get it."
Harry stared at him in disbelief. "Are you mad? Even if we could find it, what about the dog? Snape was bitten by it, and you think we'll just stroll through unharmed?"
"I've thought about that," Ron said quickly. "That big dog belongs to Hagrid. He must know how to calm it down. We'll ask him. But Harry, we have to get the Stone before Snape does—or it'll be too late."
While the two of them schemed, Hermione wandered alone through a quiet corridor, her eyes still red. She had no desire to return to the Gryffindor common room, where the rest of her house was celebrating their victory. Her heart wasn't in it. She just wanted a quiet corner to think.
Maybe Solim was right, she thought bitterly. Maybe she didn't belong in Gryffindor after all.
She'd never really liked the constant noise and chaos of the common room. She could tolerate it, yes—but barely. The students were always losing points for breaking rules and getting into trouble, undoing all the effort she spent earning them in class. It was exhausting. Still, she kept trying to make up for it, hoping she could fit in.
But deep down, Hermione knew she didn't belong. More than once she'd overheard her classmates whispering behind her back—that she liked to show off, that she tried too hard. The irony was that the ones calling her a show-off were the same loudmouths who loved causing scenes in public.
Without realizing it, Hermione found herself outside the small classroom she and her friends often used. She hesitated a moment, then opened the door.
"Hermione? What are you doing here at this hour?" Solim looked up in surprise. Hermione was usually in the library at this time. Then he noticed her red eyes and frowned. "Sit down," he said gently. "What happened?"
Hermione hesitated, then told him everything—about Harry following Snape and Quirrell, and what he'd overheard in the forest.
Solim listened, arms crossed. When she finished, he sighed. "That's not a big problem. The Philosopher's Stone is well protected. Those two idiots just like to think the world can't spin without them. They're more likely to cause trouble than solve anything."
He clearly had little patience for Harry and Ron. "Potter has some brains," he continued, "but Weasley… he's all emotion and no thought. Always trying to act clever and ending up digging his own hole."
Then Solim pointed to Hermione's tear-stained face. "I take it this is Weasley's doing?"
Before Hermione could answer, a voice came from the adjoining room. "Weasley? What's that idiot done now?"
It was Draco Malfoy, of course, with his wand still in hand. Neville Longbottom followed behind him, looking curious. They'd clearly been practicing spells nearby.
"I heard you talking about Weasley," Draco said eagerly. "What happened this time?"
"Go back and practice your charms," Solim said dryly, ignoring Draco's excitement. Then he turned back to Hermione. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something. That toad of Neville's—Trevor, wasn't it? You saw it on the train."
Hermione blinked. "Trevor? Why are we talking about Neville's toad?" She expected some comfort, not a sudden change of topic.
"I think there's something strange about that toad," Solim said seriously. "I need you to keep an eye on it. When it shows up, when it disappears—everything. You have access to the Gryffindor common room; I don't."
Hermione frowned. "You think there's something wrong with it?"
Solim leaned closer and whispered, "I suspect that toad might be an Animagus who's snuck into the school."
Hermione's eyes widened. An Animagus? Disguised as a toad? The thought made her shiver. If he was right, there was something far darker going on at Hogwarts than even Harry imagined.
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