A strange tension hung in the air inside the train compartment.
Hermione, sitting across from Daphne, was glaring at her with puffed-up cheeks, while Daphne shot back a teasing smirk.
Sparks practically flew between their locked gazes.
"Hey, Daphne, did you get my gift?" Edward figured he should at least break the awkward silence first.
"Not bad. Is this the original design for that necklace you conjured in Transfiguration?" Daphne's white blouse gleamed with the sword-shaped pendant sparkling at her chest.
Her own laurel badge had shifted to a soft green, a sign she was in a good mood.
"No need to ask if you liked my gift to you," Daphne said, eyeing Edward's robe—the very one she'd given him. "After all, you wouldn't be wearing it if you didn't, right?"
Though her words were sharp, she gave a satisfied nod.
Listening to their chat about Christmas gifts, Hermione felt a twinge of embarrassment.
Of course, she hadn't forgotten Edward's Christmas present. How could she, when he'd been the one to charge into the girls' bathroom and save her from that troll?
But she'd overlooked one crucial detail: she didn't know Edward's home address. By the time she realized it, it was too late.
So, she'd packed her gift—a book called The Evolution of Knights—in her trunk, planning to give it to him after the holidays.
But just now, caught up in wanting to ask about Nicolas Flamel, she'd completely forgotten about the gift.
Ugh, Hermione, how could you forget something so important? she scolded herself, her face turning bright red.
"Um, Edward, I just remembered—I need to step out for a bit. When you're free, I'll—"
Hermione stood to leave the compartment, but Edward suddenly reached out to stop her.
"Hermione, I think now's a good time. Daphne doesn't mean any harm, and I think she can stay to hear this—about who Nicolas Flamel is."
"Mean any harm? What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione looked confused.
Edward quickly filled her in on everything that had happened before: how he'd confronted Snape to ask who he was fighting against, how he'd enlisted Malfoy and Daphne to seek out Dumbledore, and more.
Hermione gasped, feeling like she was listening to a ghost story.
"In short, Daphne and Draco know about this too. I trust them. Even if they didn't know now, I'd probably tell them later anyway," Edward said, a smile lingering on his face.
"I see. I thought—oh, Merlin," Hermione stammered, a bit flustered. "You guys are really brave. I thought you'd be more… well, cautious."
She stole a glance at Daphne, who seemed a bit haughty, and suddenly recalled the time after Charms class before Halloween. When Ron had mocked her, it was Edward and Daphne who'd spoken up for her.
"Well, it depends on who's involved and what's at stake," Daphne said with a playful tone. "Normally, I don't bother with other people's messes, but some folks are just great at getting into trouble."
Edward knew exactly who she meant by "troublemaker."
"Ahem, ladies, do you still want to know who Nicolas Flamel is or not?" he said, clearing his throat.
The second- and third-ranked students in their year immediately turned their eager gazes to the top student.
"Nicolas Flamel, full name Nicholas Flamel, is a very famous alchemist. He's said to have once possessed the Holy Grail," Edward explained.
"I read about him in a book, but it wasn't about the modern wizarding world—it was about strange tales from around the 16th century," he recalled.
"The 16th century? That's 400 years ago! How could anyone live that long?" Hermione exclaimed.
"An immortal alchemist, huh? That's intriguing," Daphne said thoughtfully.
"Wait! If that's the case, I get it! I've been looking in the wrong direction this whole time! Hang on!" Hermione jumped up and bolted out of the compartment.
When she returned, she was clutching two books.
"Edward, this one's your Christmas gift. Sorry, I forgot to ask for your address," she said, quickly shoving the book into his hands before Daphne could tease her.
"Wow, thanks, Hermione!" Edward grinned.
"And this one—hold on, I'll find it in a second!"
The sound of pages flipping filled the compartment. Finally, Hermione pointed to a passage and turned the book so both Edward and Daphne could read it.
"Nicolas Flamel is the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone!" she said excitedly.
Edward and Daphne, both quick readers, scanned the text in moments.
The Philosopher's Stone: a miraculous alchemical creation, crafted through complex ancient techniques. It could turn any metal into pure gold and produce the Elixir of Life, granting eternal youth to whoever drank it.
"Sounds a bit like the Holy Grail, doesn't it?" Edward mused.
"So that's it! The three-headed dog is guarding the Philosopher's Stone. Professor Dumbledore wants to keep it hidden, but someone's trying to steal it—probably the same person who cursed Harry's broom," Edward deduced swiftly.
Hermione nodded vigorously but then looked puzzled. "We thought it was Snape at first, but if you're saying it's not him, then who could it be?"
"My advice? Let it go," Daphne said coolly. "Unless you think you, Potter, and Weasley's little heads are smarter than Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape."
As Hermione and Daphne talked, Edward's mind wandered elsewhere.
The Philosopher's Stone was here at Hogwarts, heavily guarded, and someone unknown was trying to steal it.
But stealing something required a motive.
With the Philosopher's Stone, it wasn't about collecting a trophy. The thief had to be after its powers—turning metal to gold or achieving immortality.
Immortality… Edward's thoughts drifted to something else.
The legendary Avalon, a mythical island where time and age didn't exist, where nothing ever grew old.
Never aging. Immortal. Wasn't that exactly what the Philosopher's Stone offered?
Edward didn't know who was after the Stone, but he knew one thing: a group called the "Black Knights" had been relentlessly searching for Avalon's entrance.
His brow furrowed.
Could it be? Were the Black Knights behind this? Was one of them here at Hogwarts?
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