UP TO SOMETHING

After quite some time searching, they finally spotted Marteen lounging on a thick tree branch in the courtyard. He was surrounded by Blaise Zabini and two other Slytherins, all looking relaxed and carefree after the exams.

Ron hesitated, tugging at Harry's sleeve. "Maybe we should wait," he whispered. "He's with his Slytherin mates. Might not be the best time to approach."

But Harry was determined. "No, this is important. We need him with us." Without waiting for a response, he strode towards the tree.

"Hey, Marteen!" Harry called up. "Got a minute?"

Marteen's head popped up, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted Harry. "Well, if it isn't my favorite Gryffindor troublemakers!" he drawled, "What's up?"

Harry glanced at the other Slytherins, then back at Marteen.

"We need to talk. It's about... you know. That thing."

"Sure thing, buddy. I'm game."

As Marteen started to climb down, Zabini frowned.

"Seriously, Marteen? You're ditching us for them?" He jerked his head towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were hovering nearby. "They're so... annoying."

Marteen landed on the ground with a soft thud, brushing off his robes. He flashed Zabini an easy smile. "Sorry, man. Can't tell ya. It's a secret." He winked conspiratorially. "Top-secret mission and all that jazz. I'll catch you guys later, yeah?"

Before Zabini or the others could protest, Marteen sauntered over to Harry and the others. "Alright, gang," he said, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders. "What kind of trouble are we getting into this time?"

As they walked away, Ron couldn't help but grin. "Nice one, mate," he said to Marteen. "You really know how to keep them guessing."

"It's a gift. Now, what's this all about? You guys look serious enough to rival Snape on a bad hair day."

"It's about Fluffy," Harry said in a low voice. "And Hagrid. We need to talk to him, now, as we planned."

"Lead the way, then,"

With that, the quartet set off towards Hagrid's hut, their minds racing with possibilities and concerns about what they might discover.

The quartet walked down the slope to Hagrid's hut, the grass crunching beneath their feet. As they approached, the door swung open with a creak, and Hagrid's enormous, hairy face beamed at them.

"Well, hullo!" Hagrid boomed, "Come in, come in! Heard yeh finished yer exams today. Congratulations!"

They filed into the cozy, one-room cabin, a wave of warmth washing over them. Fang, Hagrid's massive boarhound, lifted his head from his basket and lumbered over to greet them.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry grinned, patting Fang's head.

"Yeah, thanks," Ron echoed, collapsing into a chair with a dramatic sigh. "Thought my brain was going to explode during that last History of Magic exam."

Marteen flopped onto the enormous sofa, stretching out like a cat.

"Man, I'm just stoked it's over. Time to par-tay!"

Hagrid chuckled, moving to the fireplace where a copper kettle was starting to whistle. "Ah, to be young again. How about some celebratory tea, eh?"

As Hagrid busied himself with the tea, Fang decided Hermione's lap looked like the perfect place for a nap. He trotted over and attempted to climb onto her, his tail wagging furiously.

"Oh! Fang, no—oof!" Hermione protested, trying to push the slobbering dog away. "You're far too big! Fang, please!"

The others couldn't help but laugh as Hermione struggled with the affectionate beast. Fang, oblivious to her protests, continued his mission to become a lap dog.

"Looks like you've got yourself a new best friend, Hermione," Harry teased.

"Yeah, who needs books when you've got a drooling mountain for company?" Ron added, snickering.

"Hey, Fang! I bet Hermione's got some tasty exam notes in her bag. Why don't you go check it out?" said Marteen.

"Don't you dare, Marteen Grindelwald!"

Hermione squealed, clutching her bag protectively while still fending off Fang.

Hagrid turned from the fire, balancing a tray of steaming mugs. "Alright, alright, that's enough. Fang, yeh great lump, leave Hermione alone." He set the tray down on the rough wooden table. "Here we are, nice hot tea to celebrate the end of exams."

As they all reached for their mugs—Hermione with visible relief as Fang finally retreated—Hagrid beamed at them proudly.

"So, tell me all about it. How'd yeh think yeh did?"

The cozy hut filled with chatter and laughter as they recounted their exam experiences, the real reason for their visit momentarily forgotten in the warmth of friendship and the comfort of Hagrid's hospitality.

Harry set his mug down, his face growing serious. "Hagrid, we need to ask you something important. Have you ever told anyone else how to get past Fluffy?"

"Get past Fluffy? Why would yeh—"

"It's crucial, Hagrid," Hermione interjected, leaning forward.

"Well," Hagrid scratched his beard, "there was this one bloke down at the pub. The one who gave me Norbert's egg, remember? Seemed right interested in Fluffy, he did."

"What exactly did you tell this guy, Hagrid?" Marteen asked.

"Oh, nothin' much," Hagrid said proudly. "Just that the trick with Fluffy is knowin' how to calm 'im. It's easy, really. All yeh need is a little—" He stopped abruptly, his face falling. "Blimey, I shouldn't've said that."

"A little what, Hagrid?" Harry pressed.

"No—no, I can't say. Yeh almost got me there."

"But Hagrid, this is important. If someone's trying to steal the Stone—" Hermione insisted.

"C'mon, Hagrid," Marteen cajoled, "We're just trying to help. You can trust us."

"No more questions. I'm not sayin' another word."

Despite their best efforts, Hagrid remained tight-lipped. Finally, defeated, they trudged out of the hut. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grounds.

"Well, that was a bust," Ron grumbled.

"Not entirely," Hermione mused. "We did learn one thing—whoever's after the Stone, they know how to get past Fluffy."

Harry nodded grimly. "And Hagrid told them, without even realizing it."

"So, what's our next move?" Marteen asked.

As they walked back to the castle, their minds raced with new questions and growing fears. The adventure was far from over.

As they hurried through the corridors, Hermione's brow furrowed with worry. "We should tell Professor Dumbledore," she said, "He needs to know what's happening."

The others nodded in agreement, and they changed course, heading towards the Headmaster's office. Soon, they found themselves standing before the imposing stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance.

Harry, Ron, and Marteen exchanged glances, each having visited the office before for various reasons.

"Err... Lemon drop?"

The gargoyle remained motionless.

"Cockroach Cluster?"

Still nothing.

"How about... Fizzing Whizbee?"

The gargoyle didn't budge an inch.

"Blast," Marteen muttered, "They must've changed the password."

Suddenly, a silky voice spoke from behind them, making them all jump.

"And what, pray tell, are four students doing loitering outside the Headmaster's office?"

They whirled around to find Professor Snape looming over them, his black eyes glittering dangerously.

"We—we need to see Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry stammered.

"Indeed? And why might that be? Your... unusual behavior could lead one to think you were up to something."

The quartet exchanged panicked glances, unsure how to respond.

Before any of them could cobble together a response, Snape's mouth twisted into a cynical smile.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your time. The Headmaster left for an urgent meeting at the Ministry of Magic not ten minutes ago."

Their faces fell, and they turned to leave, but Snape's hand shot out, grabbing the back of Marteen's robes. The Slytherin boy froze, his usual bravado faltering.

"Grindelwald, let me make something perfectly clear. If you cost Slytherin any more house points with your... escapades, you'll find yourself serving detention for a month after the summer holidays. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear, sir."

With a final piercing glare, Snape released Marteen's robes and swept away, his black cloak billowing behind him.

As soon as Snape was out of earshot, Ron let out a shaky breath. "Blimey, that was close."

"Too close," Hermione agreed

Harry turned to Marteen, "You alright, Marteen?"

Marteen straightened his robes, a hint of his usual swagger returning. "Yeah, I'm good. Snape's bark is worse than his bite... I hope."

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their failed mission and Snape's warning hanging heavily in the air.

"Wait a minute," she whispered urgently, gesturing for the others to huddle closer. "Don't you see? With Dumbledore gone, the Stone isn't safe anymore!"

"Blimey, you're right!" said Ron.

"But hang on," Harry interjected, "Why was Snape lurking around Dumbledore's office?"

"Guys, I think I've got it! What if Snape was making sure the coast was clear?" said Marteen.

"Exactly! He was checking if Dumbledore had really left. Now he can try to steal the Stone without interference!" Hermione said.

"And remember that cloaked figure in the Forbidden Forest?" Harry added, "What if that was really Voldemort, waiting for Snape to bring him the Stone?"

"Bloody hell, stop saying his name." Ron said.

"Oh, don't you see? It must have been Snape who gave Hagrid the egg in the first place!" Hermione explained.

"Of course!" Harry exclaimed. "He used it to trick Hagrid into revealing how to get past Fluffy!"

Marteen let out a low whistle. "Man, that's some serious next-level scheming. Snape's got game, I'll give him that."

"I need to do something about this. I need yo get pass the trapdoor tonight." Harry said.

Marteen raised an eyebrow. "Whoa there, cowboy. Don't you mean 'we' need to do something?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I meant what I said. I need to do this myself. If you lot come along, you could get expelled. Besides, Marteen, Snape just warned you. I can't let you risk that."

"Harry James Potter, if you think for one second we're letting you go alone, you've got another think coming! I won't get expelled for this. Professor Flitwick told me I got 112% on my Charms exam!" Hermione insisted.

Marteen chuckled, leaning against the wall with a casual air that belied the seriousness of the situation.

"Expulsion? Please. Dumbledore brought me here himself, remember? It wasn't exactly my idea to come to Hogwarts in the first place. If he expels me, I've got nothing to lose. I'm in, whether you like it or not, Harry."

Ron's freckled face was pale, "I dunno what'll happen if I get expelled. Mum'll probably have kittens. But I'm not letting you face this alone, mate. Count me in."

Harry looked at his friends, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to argue, to protect them, but the determination in their eyes told him it would be useless.

"Alright," he said finally, "We'll do this together. But if things get too dangerous, I want you all to promise you'll turn back. Deal?"

"Deal."

"You got it, buddy."

"We're with you, mate. All the way."

As they stood there, united in their resolve, the weight of what lay ahead settled over them. They were no longer just students worrying about exams and house points. They were about to face a challenge that could change everything.

"There's still one big problem – we don't know how to get past Fluffy." said Harry.

Marteen turned to Hermione, "Hey, brainiac, any chance you can figure it out? You're the cleverest witch in our year, after all."

"I've looked, but there's nothing about three-headed dogs in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'. I haven't found any book that—" She stopped abruptly, "Oh! Book!"

The others looked at her expectantly.

"Marteen," she said excitedly, "what about your grandfather's book? The one you inherited? Maybe it has something about creatures like Fluffy!"

"No way, Hermione. Remember what happened last time we tried to use that thing?"

"Yeah, that book's got a right nasty attitude." said Ron.

"Look, I don't care what that book said about us before. This is important. We should try using it." Hermione insisted.

Marteen hesitated, his usual confidence wavering. "I dunno, Hermione. Why would my grandfather know anything about three-headed dogs?"

Hermione's mind raced, recalling a book she'd read recently. "Actually, according to 'Dark Wizards of the 20th Century: A Comprehensive Study', Gellert Grindelwald had a keen interest in rare and powerful magical creatures. His involvement with dark magic likely exposed him to knowledge about unique beings like three-headed dogs."

"Huh, I guess that makes sense. Alright, we can give it a shot. But I can't exactly start chatting with the book here in the corridor. We need a quill to communicate with it."

Ron groaned. "Great, another thing we need to find. Where are we supposed to get a quill now?"

Hermione's face brightened. "The library! We can find a quill there, and it'll be quiet enough for us to consult the book without drawing attention."

Harry nodded, "Good thinking, Hermione. Let's go."

As they set off towards the library, Marteen muttered under his breath, "I just hope Grandpa Gellert's in a helpful mood today."

The quartet hurried through the corridors, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Time was of the essence, and they all knew that the answers they sought in Grindelwald's book could be the key to saving the Philosopher's Stone.

Ron and Harry pushed open the heavy library doors, stepping into the hushed sanctuary of books. Madam Pince's hawk-like gaze immediately zeroed in on them from behind her desk.

"And what, pray tell, brings you two here?" she asked sharply, "The term is over. Surely you're not looking for last-minute studying materials?"

Before Harry or Ron could stammer out an excuse, Marteen and Hermione appeared behind them, slightly out of breath from their hurried walk.

Madam Pince's eyes flicked to Hermione, and her expression shifted from suspicion to resigned acceptance. "Oh," she said flatly, as if seeing something all too familiar. "Never mind, then."

The quartet moved deeper into the library, taking in the unusual emptiness of the space. Rows upon rows of bookshelves stood silent sentinel, their contents undisturbed. The usually bustling study tables were bare, free from the clutter of parchment, quills, and open tomes. Dust motes danced in the shafts of late afternoon sunlight streaming through the high windows, giving the deserted library an almost ethereal quality.

The absence of whispered conversations, scratching quills, and rustling pages made the vast room feel even larger than usual. Their footsteps, though soft, seemed to echo in the stillness. It was as if the very air held its breath, waiting for the return of students in the fall.

As they sought out a secluded corner, the friends couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and unease at the library's transformation. Without the usual crowd of students, it felt like a different world entirely - one that held secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Hermione reached for a quill from a nearby desk, and the four of them settled around a secluded table. Marteen placed his grandfather's book in the center, eyeing it warily.

"Guys, this thing might say some nasty stuff again," Marteen warned.

"We know, but we have to try. Go on, Marteen." Harry insisted.

Taking a deep breath, Marteen dipped the quill in ink and wrote:

Do you know about Fluffy?

The words shimmered and disappeared, replaced by the book's response:

I'm not familiar with this term.

Hermione huffed impatiently. "Oh, Marteen, don't be daft. Of course it doesn't know who Fluffy is. Ask it properly!"

Marteen rolled his eyes but complied. He wrote:

Do you know about three-headed dogs?

This time, the book's response was immediate:

Yes, I am familiar with Cerberus-like creatures.

Encouraged, Marteen pressed on:

How do you calm a three-headed dog?

The book's answer appeared slowly, as if considering its words:

Music soothes the savage beast. A simple melody can lull even the fiercest three-headed dog to sleep.

"Blimey! The book knew it all along! And it took us ages to figure out how to ask!" Ron said.

"Music? But how are we supposed to—" Harry stopped abruptly, a memory flashing in his mind. "Wait a minute... Hagrid gave me a flute for Christmas! It's up in the dormitory!"

Hermione beamed. "Harry, that's brilliant! We can use that!"

"But we should practice a bit first," Ron added. "We don't want to mess it up when we're face-to-face with Fluffy."

Suddenly, without being prompted, new words appeared on the book's pages:

Why bother with music? The curse you asked about months ago would be far more efficient. Killing it is easier and effortless compared to playing music.

Hermione gasped, "Oh! It's suggesting terrible things again!"

"I told you." Marteen said.

Ron's face paled. "Blimey, that book's got a nasty streak, hasn't it?"

Harry frowned, his green eyes darting between the book and Marteen. "I don't like the sound of that at all."

Hermione turned to Marteen, "What curse is it talking about, Marteen?"

Marteen's face flushed, and he quickly closed the book. "Nothing, nothing," he said hurriedly, "Let's just focus on the music plan, alright? That's what we're going with."

As they emerged from the library, the quiet sanctuary gave way to the bustling corridors of Hogwarts. Students, finally free from the stress of exams, filled the hallways with excited chatter and laughter. The air was thick with plans for summer holidays and relief at having survived another year of magical education.

Harry lowered his voice as they walked, mindful of the crowds around them. "We should go through the trapdoor tonight. We can use my invisibility cloak."

"All four of us? Under one cloak? Last time you, me, and Ron used it, our feet were barely covered. How's that gonna work with Hermione too?" Marteen asked.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured him, though his own voice held a hint of uncertainty. "We'll make it work."

"I'm quite eager to see how the cloak functions. Oh, and Marteen, don't forget to bring your compass. It could be useful." Hermione suggested.

Marteen nodded, "Alright, look. You guys pick me up in the dungeon later at eleven, like you did before. I'll be waiting."

The others agreed, and Marteen split off, heading towards the Slytherin common room. As he walked away, his mind raced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The weight of his grandfather's book seemed to grow heavier in his robe, the dark suggestion it had made earlier still echoing in his thoughts.

Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry's face was set with determination, his green eyes focused on the challenge ahead. Ron's freckles stood out against his pale skin, a mix of nervousness and anticipation clear in his expression. Hermione's brow was furrowed in concentration, her brilliant mind already working on potential obstacles they might face.

As they climbed the moving staircases, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what they were about to do began to sink in. They weren't just students anymore — they were about to face a challenge that could change everything. The fate of the Philosopher's Stone — and perhaps the entire wizarding world — rested on their young shoulders.

The corridors of Hogwarts continued to buzz with end-of-term excitement around them, oblivious to the adventure that was about to unfold in the depths of the castle.