Leaving a magical mark was no easy task.
Harry spent hours experimenting in the Room of Requirement, but without success.
Hermione and Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be having a great time, punishing the training dummies with Expelliarmus.
But Harry noticed a problem: Ron's talent was impressive, yet his wand didn't suit him, making spellwork far less effective.
Harry only partially agreed with Ollivander's words — weren't wizards and wands meant to choose each other?
It was time to think of a way to get Ron a new wand, Harry decided. Considering the Weasley family's financial situation, if they could afford it, they probably wouldn't let him use Charlie's old wand.
Perhaps he should give Ron one himself, Harry thought, but he feared that giving a wand directly might hurt his friend's pride.
He needed to find a proper way to do it.
When they left the Room of Requirement, Ron and Hermione were still reluctant to go.
Children are naturally drawn to novelty and possess an innate desire to wreak havoc, and these two were no exception.
How could they resist the freedom and joy of casting spells?
"Excellent! Very well! Two points for Gryffindor!"
In Charms class, Professor Flitwick clapped joyfully, praising Ron's spellwork.
He had been the first student in class to use the Levitation Charm on something other than a feather — the desk in front of Professor Flitwick was proof enough.
Though the desk only held up briefly before falling, it did not stop Flitwick from encouraging him.
"Harry! Harry! I did it!" Ron shook Harry's arm excitedly.
Hermione shook her head, amused, applauding Ron.
She had reached that level long ago.
Harry had privately told her to give Ron some chances to shine and not steal all the credit, so she was in no rush to show off in Charms class.
Their classmates assumed Ron was just celebrating with friends, unaware that his rapid improvement was inseparable from Harry's careful guidance.
Every Friday, the three visited Hagrid's hut, and Harry, as always, cheerfully accepted the rock-hard bread under his friends' suspicious eyes.
"Try soaking it until it softens," Harry said. "I tried it once when my tooth hurt, and it was surprisingly good… Hagrid, could you break it into smaller pieces for us?"
"Of course, Harry," Hagrid smiled, carefully breaking the stone-hard bread into small pieces for the three children.
He also realized that normal human teeth couldn't chew it properly and, to thank Harry for his thoughtfulness, prepared a cup of honeyed water for him and his friends.
"Phew…" Harry took a sip, relief washing over his face. "You know, Hagrid, this is real lemonade. The stuff I had in the Headmaster's office the other day… that should've been called lemon syrup."
"You went to the Headmaster's office?" Hagrid patted his beard. "Dumbledore's a good bloke, isn't he? Loves sweets, we all know that. Professor McGonagall always snags his candies, but it doesn't help much. Most of the Tooth-Strengthening Potion Professor Snape brews ends up in him."
As he said this, Hagrid brought his hand to his mouth and whispered to the three boys.
Seeing him about to whisper, they leaned closer.
"Professor Snape suggested including the Tooth-Strengthening Potion in the school's accounts, but Professor Dumbledore refused."
Hermione frowned, exasperated. "Hagrid, you probably don't realize that Professor Snape was being sarcastic, do you?"
Hagrid suddenly realized and exclaimed, "Ah!" Raising a finger, he asked uncertainly, "Sarcastic?"
"Yes." The three nodded in unison.
"Ah, ah!" Hagrid scratched his head. "I was wondering why Professor Snape would say that, haha…"
"By the way, Hagrid," Harry asked suddenly, "speaking of Professor Snape, I remembered seeing him after Halloween. His leg seemed injured, and Filch was applying medicine. I heard him say a three-headed creature had bitten him. Since you're an expert in magical creatures, I thought I'd ask you about it."
"Oh dear, how can I be called an expert in magical creatures?" Hagrid said sheepishly, scratching his head. "Maybe Professor Snape got bitten by Fluffy."
"Fluffy?" the three asked in unison.
"Yes, I bought Fluffy from a Greek. It's a three-headed dog." Hagrid continued filling the boys' lemonade cups. "This dog has a strange problem: he falls asleep whenever he hears music — but Professor Dumbledore borrowed him and put him on the fourth floor. I doubt he can keep an eye on Nicolas Flamel…"
Hagrid suddenly realized his slip and covered his mouth.
"Nicolas Flamel?" The three exchanged glances.
That name alone was enough. Harry relaxed in his chair.
"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, dear girl, that's the Headmaster's secret." Hagrid stood and began escorting them to the door. "Sorry, I've said too much today. You have classes tomorrow, right? It's getting late; you should go back and rest."
The three reluctantly left Hagrid's hut.
"Nick Flamel?" Ron muttered. "That name sounds familiar. I feel like I've heard it somewhere before."
"Yeah," Hermione frowned. "I recognize it too, but I can't remember from where."
"Harry, do you have any idea?" Ron asked.
"You've seen him today," Harry said, pulling a Chocolate Frog card from his robes. "Here, I had it with me—"
Ron took the card and read aloud: "Target: Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, widely considered the greatest wizard of our time."
"His most notable achievements include defeating the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, discovering twelve uses for dragon's blood, and collaborating with his partner Nicolas Flamel in alchemy… Ah, yes! That's the guy I know from the Chocolate Frog card — what does he do?"
"It says on the card that Nicolas Flamel is an alchemist," Hermione said.
"I read about him in a book," Harry said without hesitation. "Nicolas Flamel lived for over six hundred years, from the 14th century to the present day. He supposedly possesses a Philosopher's Stone, a magical stone capable of turning lead into gold and granting immortality."
Hearing Harry's explanation, Hermione and Ron exchanged amazed glances.
Ron was astonished by the magical properties of the Stone.
Hermione was stunned by Harry's vast knowledge.
"You know so much, Harry," Hermione said, impressed.
Harry only smiled kindly, though inwardly he thought, I not only know Nicolas Flamel… I've met him personally…
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