"You looked pissed," Zabini noted.
"Ran into some 3rd years," Blake replied easily.
As conversation about how ugly the 3rd years in question were ensued, Blake packed his things. He had the option to stay in Hogwarts, of course, but (despite the fact that he would never admit it out loud) he missed his mother and brother, badly. After all, the only reason he was at Hogwarts was for them. Also, the fact that potentially murderous Quirrell was on the loose, despite Dumbledore's promises of safety, made staying at Hogwarts for longer than strictly necessary unappealing.
Separately, he wasn't the only one going home for Christmas. Greengrass was also going home, leaving Charlotte, Zabini and Tracey behind. Tracey's parents were away on a business trip, and although Charlotte didn't offer any explanation as to why she was staying in school, it was pretty obvious why. Blake recalled seeing piles and piles of unopened mail addressed to Charlotte, and a wave of sympathy and guilt rolled over him. All because she insists on staying friends with me.
Zabini also didn't offer any explanation for his staying at Hogwarts, but Blake doubted he would find out why any time soon.
As the group said their goodbyes, Blake did his best to take advantage of the remaining hour or two he had left until the Hogwarts Express came.
Dumbledore's promises were all well and good, but Blake was becoming sick of being left in the dark about things, especially now that it was obvious that he had a potentially life-ending stake in whatever was going on.
First, he went to see McGonagall.
"I expect that you'll be keeping on top of all your theory, Mr Renshaw," she said sternly. "You mustn't slack off during the holidays."
"Of course, Professor. But I was hoping there was something else you could help me with?"
McGonagall's eyes became guarded, and she sighed, as if she'd been expecting it.
"If this is what I think it is about, Mr Renshaw, Professor Dumbledore has asked me explicitly to not divulge any information about the subject at hand."
Blake booed mentally, but he was quick to cover it up.
"But, Professor, it's not about that! Well, not directly at least - there was a spell that Professor Dumbledore used, I think. I just wanted to know what it was. I would've asked him before, but I forgot," Blake rushed, and thankfully, by the look of relief that appeared on her face, it seemed that McGonagall believed him.
"I see. What was the spell like?"
"It was a white phoenix that had his voice, Professor."
"Ah, I see," McGonagall said with a smile. "That's the Patronus, Mr Renshaw. Fairly complicated magic, but I've no doubt that as long as you keep up your training, you'll be able to do it yourself soon."
Blake smiled widely.
"I'll read up on it and practice over the holidays then."
"Actually, Mr Renshaw, perhaps you're not aware - but students aren't permitted to use magic outside of Hogwarts until they reach magical maturity - that's 17 years old."
Blake frowned. "How would anyone know?"
"Mr Renshaw, you must follow the rules!" McGonagall admonished with a small smile on her face. "And as for your question, there's magic placed on all underage wizards and witches. It's called the Trace, and it alerts the Ministry whenever underage magic occurs."
That's annoying.
Blake's face must've shown it, because McGonagall's smile widened slightly.
"However, that's not any reason or excuse to stop reading or learning! I'm assigning you multiple tasks over Christmas break - I expect them all completed."
Blake almost groaned after being handed the 3 page long, double sided document.
"Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, Mr Renshaw. And give your mother my best regards."
Blake returned the words, and quickly left. It's not like I was expecting her to tell me anything anyway - she was just Plan 1.
He hurried down and out of the castle, towards the Forbidden Forest until he reached his destination.
"Hi, Hagrid!"
The giant chortled.
"Blake! What a nice surprise! Ain't yer meant to be gettin' on that train back?"
"I have an hour or two," Blake said dismissively.
"Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Hagrid. I-"
"Aww, what a good lad yer are!" Hagrid said with the biggest grin Blake had ever seen.
"Come in, come in!" he continued, ushering Blake in, just as he knew he would.
As idle conversation ensued, Blake finally brought up the reason why he'd come.
"By the way, Hagrid, I just wanted to say thanks."
"Thanks? What for?"
"For vouching for me to Professor Dumbledore," Blake responded, with a large smile on his face, as Hagrid looked at him in shock.
"How- how d'you about-"
"That's a long story," Blake said sheepishly.
"I'm listenin'!"
"Well, basically…" Blake trailed off for a second, before leaning in close and whispering conspiratorally, "I found Fluffy and realised Quirrell was trying to steal it!"
Watching the colour drain from Hagrid's face would've almost been comical if Blake didn't feel bad for tricking the man (or giant).
"Y'know about it? An' wait - Quirrell? It's him?" Hagrid whispered back. Blake nodded.
"I do - Professor Dumbledore told me. And not just that too - remember that Quidditch match recently? Quirrell placed a jinx on Harry's broom! If it weren't for Snape's counterjinx and me knocking him over, Harry could've been knocked clean off!"
Hagrid's face was now like a ghost, and Blake felt even worse.
"So, Hermione was right?" he muttered. What's that about? "I can't believe it! I knew Quirrell was bein' weird, but this? Tryna kill Harry? Tryna steal the Stone? What's he thinking?"
Finally, Blake felt a wave of triumph wash over him. The Stone? What's that? Whatever - finally, I have a lead! But he persisted still, not trying to give away to Hagrid that he didn't actually know what this 'Stone' was.
"Exactly! And it's not just that - Quirrell's been behaving really weird with me too - only me in my class, not anyone else, since the beginning of the year!"
Hagrid frowned deeper than he ever had before.
"'Ave yer told Dumbledore?"
Blake smirked.
"Of course. He promised me nothing bad would happen - not to me, not to Harry, or anyone else. The only reason Quirrell's still here is so Dumbledore can keep an eye on him, find out if he's working with anyone to steal the Stone."
Hagrid finally seemed to calm down.
"Yer right. Dumbledore's Dumbledore - no way he'd let shaky ol' Quirrell 'ave his way!"
The conversation gradually shifted away from Quirrell and this 'Stone' now that Hagrid was calmed down, and before long, the pair bade each other farewell, and Blake left back to the castle, but now before telling Hagrid one thing.
"Uh, Hagrid?"
"Yeah?"
"It's just… uh, I kind of got carried away - I just realised that Professor Dumbledore asked me not to tell anyone about Quirrell, so-"
Hagrid chortled.
"Don' worry, Blake. Yer secret's safe with me!" he winked.
Blake thanked Hagrid, and made his way.
Unfortunately for him, there was no more time to go to the library to read up about the 'Stone', and it wasn't like he could ask any of his teachers either. Either way, I have time.
Blake went back to his dorm room one last time to check if he had all his things, jubilant at his progress. But suddenly he realised something - the Quill - where is it? Blake's elation quickly turned into dread, and he began turning the room upside down in search of it. No, no, no, no! If someone finds that Quill and realises what it does, at best I'm out of business - at worst, I'm expelled!
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