The next morning, Hogwarts returned to its usual rhythm. After two weeks of vacation, when the school seemed like a half-empty haven for a few dozen children, the Great Hall was once again filled with noise and bustle. But outside its walls, the atmosphere was quickly changing. The first class for many was the most boring subject on the curriculum: History of Magic.
Viktor entered the stuffy classroom, which smelled of old paper and dust. Mister Binns, the only ghost teacher, was already floating behind the lectern, and his tedious, monotonous voice lulled the students who had not yet fully recovered from the holidays. He was giving a lecture, and every word seemed to have its own gravity, pulling one's consciousness into slumber.
Hermione, who, to Viktor's relief, was no longer mad at him, sat next to him as usual. Her face was concentrated, but even she seemed to be fighting the urge to fall asleep. Viktor, as was his custom, took out his notebook, but instead of writing anything down, he began drawing runic formulas.
— How do you know about Nicolas Flamel? — Hermione asked quietly, leaning toward him. — I looked for his name in every book but only found one mention.
Viktor looked up from his drawings and at her.
— My dear Hermione, — he replied, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, — I practice alchemy. Of course, I know of a great alchemist like Nicolas Flamel. He is one of the most influential alchemists in the world!
Hermione nodded, accepting his explanation. It was logical. She looked around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned in even closer and whispered, almost touching his ear:
— Viktor, we think the dog on the third floor is guarding the Philosopher's Stone. And you need to be careful. It seems Professor Snape wants to steal it.
Hearing her, Viktor smiled, then adopted a serious expression that perfectly matched the solemnity of the moment.
— Yes, you're right, — he replied gravely, — I suspected that my Head of House was a thief and a cheat. He even cheated me recently.
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.
— How did he cheat you?
— He made me brew potions for him on Saturdays, promising that I could use any of his ingredients, — Viktor shook his head, feigning righteous indignation. — But after the Christmas holidays, he strictly forbade me from even touching them.
— Isn't that because you made Felix Felicis—a luck potion that consists of very expensive and rare ingredients—and just gave it away? — Hermione asked.
Viktor looked at her in surprise.
— How do you know that? You weren't even here.
— The whole school is talking about it! — Hermione said. — Everyone who stayed for the holidays.
— He nodded and replied. — But that doesn't change the fact that he cheated me, — Viktor was adamant.
Hermione pouted, her patience beginning to wear thin.
— Viktor, I'm being serious, and you're joking! — she said, indignant.
Viktor chuckled softly, then became serious again.
— All right. But tell me, why would Snape want the Philosopher's Stone? — he asked.
— I don't know, but we'll try to find out tonight.
— And how? — Viktor asked.
— We'll ask the person who brought the Stone to the school—Hagrid.
Viktor froze, his face taking on an expression of deep contemplation. He slowly considered her words. His thoughts fluttered like butterflies in a jar. He looked at her with a piercing gaze.
— My dear Hermione, tonight, try not to be a hero and stay away from Harry Potter, — he whispered to her.
Hermione was surprised, her eyes wide.
— And what is that supposed to mean? — she asked.
Viktor, realizing he had said too much, quickly whispered, "Forget it," and then turned away, lost in his thoughts. Hermione, taking his words as just another crazy statement, simply ignored him.
"Why did I say that?" Viktor wondered. "I should just quietly wait for the finale and ask Dumbledore for the Philosopher's Stone to study; he wouldn't refuse his best student." Nodding to himself, he tried to distract himself and looked around the class, noticing that almost all the Slytherins, including Malfoy, were asleep, sprawled across their desks. Viktor took out his wand and, with a flick, made the quills on the tables rise into the air and begin to tickle their faces and necks. Waking up, they began to look around, trying to figure out who was pranking them. When everyone looked toward Viktor, they saw his stern, warning gaze. Without saying a word, Viktor threatened them with a raised fist. All the students immediately sobered up, straightened up, and began to listen attentively to the lesson, pretending they had never been asleep.
After the class, when the room was empty, Viktor called Daphne over as she was gathering her books.
— Daphne, find someone to sit in the common room tonight. I need to know the exact time when Malfoy leaves and when he comes back.
— Why do you need that? — Daphne asked, frowning slightly. There was curiosity in her voice.
— Just consider it a whim of mine, — Viktor replied, not wanting to go into details.
He knew that today was the day when Harry, Ron, and Hermione would go into the Forbidden Forest. And he had an inexplicable feeling of unease that grew with every minute, like a dark shadow. Without understanding why, he felt out of sorts all day. After classes, he decided to calm himself down a bit, so he went to the library. It was quiet there, and the long rows of bookshelves created a sense of seclusion. Usually, there was no one there. Sitting on a wide windowsill, he began to look at the Forbidden Forest visible in the distance through the tall windows, but his feeling of unease never went away. He sat there until the evening, not even going to the Great Hall for dinner, and instead went straight to his room. Taking an old book on runes from the shelf, he sat in his armchair and began to read.
In the evening, when twilight had deepened outside, someone knocked on his door. With a wave of his hand, Viktor opened it. A boy, one of those who had been in the common room and was watching Draco's movements, came in.
— Malfoy has left, — he reported.
Viktor nodded, not raising his head from the book.
— Let me know when he comes back, — he said, then closed the book and began to look around the room.
A little later, in Professor McGonagall's office, where silence and order usually reigned, there was now a deep tension. McGonagall, dressed in her strict robes, paced in front of three dejected figures. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood with their heads bowed, their faces pale.
— Nothing, — McGonagall repeated, her voice as stern and unyielding as if it were carved from stone. — Nothing gives a student the right to be outside the school at night. For your outrageous behavior, I am taking exactly fifty points from Gryffindor.
Harry gasped in shock, his eyes wide.
— Fifty?! — he breathed, not believing his ears.
— Yes, — McGonagall replied, her gaze as cold as ice. — And to ensure this doesn't happen again, all four of you are given detention.
Malfoy, standing to the side, was stunned. His smug smile vanished, and he went pale.
— Excuse me, Professor, — he asked, forcing the words out, — you said "all four"?
— Yes, Malfoy, — McGonagall replied, without even looking at him. — No matter how noble your intentions were, you were also not in bed at night.
The three friends exchanged quick, barely perceptible glances. Struggling to suppress their laughter, they watched as the last remnants of smugness drained from Malfoy's face.
At that moment, Hermione suddenly remembered Viktor's words in class: "Stay away from Harry Potter." Her eyes widened. A thought clicked in her head: "Could he have been trying to warn me about this?" A thoughtful expression appeared on her face.
The boy who had been watching Malfoy ran up to Viktor's room. Before he could knock, the door opened in front of him. Entering, he said:
— Malfoy is back. He took some warm clothes and left, muttering something under his breath.
— All right, you can go and rest, — he nodded.
The boy left.
— That's it. It will all be over soon. Harry will meet Quirrell, and he'll be saved by the centaur, — he nodded, agreeing with his own thoughts.
He continued to read. But half an hour later, he slammed the book shut and threw it on the table.
— Where did this stupid feeling of dread come from? — he asked himself angrily. — So, it started after I warned Hermione for some reason to stay away from Harry, — he began to muse aloud. — Why am I so worried? I warned her! She's a smart girl. She should understand.
He reached for the book again, but his hand stopped in mid-air. Viktor froze for a few seconds, then stood up abruptly.
— Idiot! Fool! — he said to himself with reproach. — Of course, she won't do what I told her. This is Hermione! If I tell her not to get involved, she'll do the exact opposite.
He quickly headed toward the door, muttering: "Viktor, Viktor, you can't interfere too much with the plot..."
Somewhere deep in the Forbidden Forest, under the cover of the starry night, Hagrid, holding a lantern in his hand, said:
— We need to split up. I'll take Hermione and Ron, and Harry, you go with Malfoy.
— I'd rather go with Harry, — Hermione intervened, her voice sounding determined and her eyes shining in the darkness. — Of the four of us, I'm the best with a wand, so it will be safer that way.
Hagrid thoughtfully scratched his beard and nodded.
— Then that's what we'll do. Ron and Malfoy go with me, and Harry goes with Hermione.
Just as Viktor had predicted, Hermione had completely ignored his words.