Mother Magic and the Philosopher's stone

Chapter Twenty-Five

Summer had finally descended on the Scottish Highlands, just in time for exams. Perhaps, Harry thought on more than one occasion, that this was Magic's way of punishing him for not speaking to her often, but he was still too afraid of what had happened with Time to return any time soon. Revision had reached fever pitch in Ravenclaw house, and Hermione was driving everyone crazy with the fanatical way she studied History and Charms and Transfiguration as if she hadn't learned anything over the year despite the several times she had to owl order new parchment after filling up yards of it with notes. It had been a gruelling couple of weeks, but Harry was sure he had at least gotten exceeds in all subjects, both practical and theory, as he made a pineapple both tapdance and perform a beautiful pas-de-deux with an orange in charms, to Flitwick's delight, and transfigured a mouse into a snuffbox encrusted with rubies and embellished with gold, just to butter McGonagall up since he was sure she was still upset about his sorting into a non-Gryffindor house.

The final exam being History of Magic was boring, and the room was far too hot for anyone's liking. Harry, Padma, Draco and Hermione decided to hide under the shade of a large oak tree by the black lake, glad that their exams were over, and that their homework would lighten drastically for the last few weeks of the year. Padma was happily braiding Hermione's hair, conjuring pink and blue flowers into it as she went, and Draco seemed to be soaking up the sun like a cat and was going slightly pink in the sun's heat. Harry was leaning against the trunk of the tree, watching the clouds drift by when a particularly concerned, nervous voice broke him from his reverie.

"Harry! Guys!" It was Neville Longbottom, running up towards them, heaving in great lungfuls of air, it was clear that this was important, and that whatever it was, Neville had come straight to them. Pride and loyalty burned in Harry's chest, it was nice. Padma stopped her braiding, murmuring a spell that finished it off quickly and Draco sat up, far more alert then he had been seconds before.

"What's wrong Neville? Come, sit down, you look like you've run all the way here." Padma said kindly, though her face was schooled into careful seriousness. The Gryffindor collapsed in a boneless heap, still panting heavily.

"Weasley's decided that Snape is going to go after the thing hidden on the third floor! He was talking to Seamus and Dean, saying it was the philosopher's stone and that because Dumbledore is at the ministry today he's going after it tonight!" Draco clapped Neville on the back, pulling out a vial of silvery liquid.

"Take this Longbottom, it's just a calming draught but it looks like you're going to have a panic attack any second." Neville just smiled weakly, uncorking the vial and swallowing it with a grimace. The effect was instantaneous, the tension completely disappeared from Neville's shoulders, and his breathing evened out.

Thank You Malfoy, I appreciate it." Draco simply waved it off. Harry looked pensive at this information, Weasley wasn't smart enough to figure all of that out by himself, and he was wrong about Snape anyway, was this a setup?

"Can you remember anything else, Neville?" The boy shook his head, pulling up small clumps of grass idly.

"Not really, Weasley said he was going to go there just after dinner and catch Snape red-handed." Hermione snorted in a rather unladylike manner.

"He really thinks that a first year is going to be able to stop Professor Snape? Not only is he a teacher, but he's also a formidable duellist!" Harry nodded at Hermione's outburst, it was true that a first-year wouldn't be able to help much, nevermind one as lazy and incompetent as Ronald Weasley, but it was also true that it wouldn't be fair nor kind to send him off to his death like that. After all, Harry had a distinct advantage, he had Lady Magic.