Helping Some Fellow Gryffindor's

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~~~(POV: Alexander Aevum)~~~

~~~(Location: Library, Hogwarts)~~~

~~~(Date: May 15th, 1992)~~~

~~~(Time: 3:48 PM)~~~

The library is packed with people now that we're approaching the later months of the school year. The fifth, sixth, and seventh years are all preparing for papers and essays. Many of my seniors in Gryffindor are here.

They've clarified their disdain for me since I've cost Gryffindor 177 points this year. McGonagall has been killing me in terms of finding me roaming places I'm not supposed to be. It's the middle of May, and it's starting to warm up.

My attention turns to a group of kids my age, one of whom I'd call a friend. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are in the library too. I'm used to seeing Granger here, but not her two friends. I'm almost tempted to go over and ask them what they're up to.

From the look on their faces, they're trying to find obscure information. I know what that's like. While I don't have the knowledge of the entire wizarding world in my mind.

I like to think that I can offer some information to people who need it. Since January, a little after I broke the mirror of Erised, I've been looking inwards at myself.

The results have been little. I've found nothing in terms of desire or goals. So, I've been trying to develop them. It sounds absolutely ludicrous, but not everyone has a tangible desire the mirror can show you.

Instead of getting lost in my head on what I've been doing these last few months, I go to their table and look at the books they're reading before saying anything. Hermione is the first to look up. Wearing a smile at my sudden visit.

"Judging from the assortment of books you're working with, you're in need of an identity."

Ron just rolls his eyes at me, and Harry lifts his eyes from his book with a tired look. It seems like they've been in here for a long time.

"Figured that out, did you?"

There is slight exhaustion in Harry's voice. I lift my index finger and point at the stacked books. Some of them have their titles on the spine.

"If you tell me what you're looking for, I might be able to help. Consider it a thank you for not ostracizing me like everyone else in Gryffindor."

I do owe them thanks for that. All three of them don't turn in the other direction when they see me, and they don't avoid talking to me like the others. In hindsight, it might've been a poor choice to choose Gryffindor.

But the people mad at me this year will mostly be leaving next year.

"What do you know about a man named Nicolas Flamel?"

Well, what would a bunch of fellow first-years need with the information about the man who created the sorcerer's stone... Some could take Ron's immediate and straightforward question the wrong way. But I can tell with Legilimency he's not upset with me.

Only that he's been stuck in the library for so long, it's getting to him. Some people aren't meant to be students or scholars. It's safe to say Ron Weasley isn't one of those.

"Depends on what you want to know about Nicolas Flamel. Let's say I tell you what you want to know. How do I know you guys aren't going to hurt yourselves with such dangerous information?"

Harry and Ron's escapades in The Dark Forest with Draco have circled the school for some time. If this is anything like that night, it'd be wise to spare them from death with dangerous information.

"It has something to do with what Fluffy is guarding. Hagrid told us that whatever's down there is between Nicolas Flamel and Dumbledore."

Hermione answers my question in a speedy manner. Harry and Ron look at each other with cocked eyebrows, and Hermione hasn't broken eye contact with me yet. A small smile is still present.

"Hmm... Okay, what I'm about to tell you... You didn't hear from me..."

I lean over the table and get closer to the three friends, and they do the same, so it's easier to hear the incoming whisper.

"Nicolas Flamel is the creator of the sorcerer's stone. It's a magical alchemic object that grants near immortality to those that drink its elixir. If what you said is true, Hermione. Then that's what Fluffy is guarding."

That's when I straighten up as realization falls on Harry's face. Before things get crazy, I make my way toward the exit.