With the start of the year-end exams, Hermione forgot about everything except studying. After regaining her strength with a potion and fine-tuning her spellwork through relentless practice in recent weeks, she pushed her magical abilities to a whole new level. Hermione was getting top marks in every exam, impressing the teachers with her skills. She especially shone in Transfiguration: she handled the tasks so smoothly that McGonagall looked like she might burst with pride, watching her best student's success. It seemed like she was even ready to forgive Hermione for all her slip-ups over the past year.
Still, despite her success, Hermione couldn't shake her worry about Harry. His behavior was raising more and more questions. After that trip to the forest, he wasn't the same: he wandered around Hogwarts like a sleepwalker, as if he was waiting for his showdown with Voldemort any day now. Convinced he wouldn't survive much longer, Harry had started acting recklessly, like he had nothing left to lose. Even the thought of being expelled didn't scare him the way it used to. More than once, Hermione and Ron barely managed to stop him from yelling his accusations at Snape in the middle of class. But in the end, Harry couldn't hold it in during the Potions exam.
For the exam, Professor Snape had them brew a memory-erasing potion. The main ingredient was dragon's blood. Nervous while working, Harry accidentally spilled some blood on the table. Of course, Snape noticed. He came over and, with his usual sneer, said:
"Mr. Potter, perhaps you don't know the value of blood, but it's very high. Precision and care are needed when handling such ingredients."
"Oh, you're definitely a blood expert!" Harry shot back, and before Hermione could stop him, he added, "Especially when it comes to getting some for your master!"
Hermione, horrified, grabbed his hand under the table, silently begging him to stop. Harry's eyes were burning with anger and recklessness. Snape froze, his cheek twitched, and his eyes narrowed.
"What did you say, Potter?" Snape spat out his name. "Help... my master?"
Ron, sitting on Harry's other side, also seemed to be trying to stop him from saying anything else. Realizing he'd gone too far, Harry lowered his eyes and muttered:
"Sorry, Professor. I don't know what came over me. Must be exam stress."
He didn't dare look up at Snape anymore, silently hoping the professor would just leave him alone. Draco, watching from his seat, could barely hide his excitement, waiting for the moment Snape would kick Harry out—not just from the class, but from the school entirely. Hermione was sure it would happen too. But for some reason, Snape hesitated.
"Get on with it, Mr. Potter," Snape said in an icy voice, surprising everyone. "Let's see if your mind is as sharp as your tongue." He gave Harry one last contemptuous look before turning away and moving on.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief. But then her thoughts started swirling: 'Maybe Snape needs Harry to stay, which is why he didn't kick him out? Does that mean Harry is right, and Voldemort really is coming for him soon?' Oddly, this fortunate outcome only deepened her worry for her friend. She glanced at Harry with concern and pity but didn't share her thoughts, not wanting to stoke his already overactive imagination.
***
Finally, the exams were over, and all that was left was to wait for the results. Grades were coming out in a week, and the only thing expected from Hogwarts students was to enjoy life and the nice weather. Hermione, running through her exam answers again in her head, decided she could expect top marks. Letting herself finally relax, she realized this was the first time in weeks that she didn't have anything urgent to do.
The trio headed to the lake to enjoy the peace and take a break from school stress. Hermione was already mentally making a list of books to take home for the holidays, so she could, as she liked to tell Ron and Harry, 'make the most of her time.' Ron just shook his head in disapproval. For him, holidays meant forgetting all about school and enjoying the sunny days.
Sitting by the lake, they talked about their holiday plans and lots of other things. Harry, however, was distracted by his scar, which had been hurting constantly lately. Hermione was baffled; she didn't know how to help. "Maybe it's some sort of seasonal allergy?" she joked, though she knew Harry's scar wasn't like everyone else's. Normally able to find answers to any question in the library, she was stumped: the uniqueness of Harry's scar made his pain a mystery, with no solutions in any book she'd read. All she could do was try to comfort him, especially since Harry was convinced that the pain was a sign of something bad—an inevitable attack from Voldemort.
The conversation shifted to other topics, and Hermione drifted back into thinking about her plans for the holidays, only half paying attention to what Ron and Harry were saying. But suddenly, Harry jumped to his feet.
"I've just thought of something," he said, sounding worried. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."
And with that, Harry took off running toward Hagrid's hut like he was being chased by a pack of werewolves. Hermione and Ron struggled to keep up. In less than ten minutes, they were already at Hagrid's door.
Hagrid looked happy, busy with his chores, and didn't seem to notice Harry's urgency. His cheerful "Hullo" and offer of tea were so simple, so homey, and so... normal. The last few weeks had been a nonstop whirlwind of exams, adventures, and danger, and moments of calm like this felt like a distant memory.
But Harry, ignoring Hagrid's offer of tea, got straight to the point. He had one question: what did the person who gave Hagrid the dragon egg look like? Thinking back to that night, Hagrid admitted he couldn't see the man's face because of a hood pulled low over his head.
"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head," Hagrid said casually, not thinking much of it.
From Hagrid's story, Hermione quickly figured out that the stranger knew exactly how to butter Hagrid up, buying him drinks all evening. Hagrid said their conversation eventually shifted to handling dangerous creatures, and the stranger skillfully led it to the topic of how to tame them. Hagrid, always eager to show off his knowledge, mentioned Fluffy, unknowingly spilling his biggest secret. Turns out, to calm the three-headed dog, all you had to do was play some music or sing to him.
The three friends exchanged looks and immediately ran back to the castle, leaving a baffled Hagrid watching them go. They had no doubt: the person who gave him the egg was either Snape or, worse, Voldemort himself. And now he knew how to get past Fluffy to reach the Philosopher's Stone.
"And how are we supposed to protect the Stone?" Ron asked nervously.
"Have you forgotten what McGonagall told us when we were on the tower roof?" Hermione said in her usual lecturing tone. "If something's bothering us, we're supposed to tell her or Dumbledore, not try to handle it on our own."
"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry agreed.
Looking around, they realized that even though they'd spent a whole year at Hogwarts, they had no idea where the headmaster's office was.
"What are you three doing inside?" Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly interrupted their thoughts as she walked toward them.
The friends glanced at each other, and Hermione stepped forward.
"We want to see Professor Dumbledore."
But it turned out the headmaster was away at the Ministry of Magic. Realizing they were running out of time, Harry decided to stop hesitating and go straight to their Head of House for help.
"Look, Professor - it's about the Philosopher's Stone..." he started, but didn't get to finish.
McGonagall dropped the stack of books she was holding in surprise.
"How do you know?" she asked, clearly shaken.
Ignoring her question, Harry pressed on.
"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn – that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I 've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."
"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," McGonagall cut in, looking at the trio with suspicion. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."
'Even Voldemort?' Hermione wanted to shout.
But arguing with McGonagall was pointless. It seemed like she was more concerned with how they found out about the Stone than with the Stone's actual safety.
"It's tonight," Harry whispered, making sure McGonagall was far enough away. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs and now he' got Dumbledore out of the way."
"But what can we…" Hermione started, but cut herself off as she noticed Snape walking right toward them down the corridor. Now that they were certain of his plan, Hermione looked at him with a lot more fear. Snape, noticing her nervous stare, paused for a second, then surprisingly greeted them politely:
"Good afternoon," he said with a weird, crooked smile. "You shouldn't be inside on a day like this."
'…on your last day of your life,' Hermione finished the sentence in her head. She swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say. Her friends seemed just as thrown off and didn't know how to react either.
"You want to be more careful," Snape went on. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can they?"
'What difference does it make now?' Hermione wanted to snap back. They were already in last place, and only a miracle could lift them up even one spot. But she held back, not wanting to argue with the Head of Slytherin. His fake politeness and supposed concern only made her more suspicious. He reminded her of a smug cat that had just eaten cream. 'He's probably already gloating about his victory,' Hermione thought.
"Be warned, Potter," Snape said, turning to Harry, "any more night-time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."
Snape disappeared down the hall, leaving Hermione completely unsure about what to do next. Unlike her, Harry was determined—Snape's threats didn't faze him anymore. The thought of Voldemort returning made everything else seem unimportant, and Hermione, though reluctantly, realized he was right. After that encounter with Snape, she had no doubt the theft would happen tonight.
Harry made a bold suggestion—get to the Philosopher's Stone before Snape could. Every time they tried to argue, Harry just repeated, "If Voldemort comes back, nothing else will matter." Why he thought the Stone would be safer with him was beyond Hermione, but there was no talking him out of it. In the end, despite their doubts, they agreed: tonight, the three of them would go after the Stone.
***
True to her habit, Hermione buried herself in books for the entire evening. The irony wasn't lost on her—just that morning, she had allowed herself to dream about a well-earned break after weeks of nonstop studying.
Now, she was cramming as much knowledge as possible before their mission to get the Philosopher's Stone. She pictured all the traps that could be protecting it. In her mind, they took all sorts of forms: riddles that would need sharp thinking and knowledge, or magical creatures that would require bravery and precise spellwork. The more she thought about it, the more doubt crept in. Were they really skilled enough to get through the defenses set up by Hogwarts professors? These weren't meant to test first-year students. 'How can we, just a bunch of kids, expect to get through where real wizards should fail?' she thought.
She shared her worries with Ron, but he just shrugged and said, "I'm going with Harry. You can stay behind."
"So you think I'm just scared?" she snapped, annoyed by his careless answer, and her frustration bubbled over. "Because, of course, the most important thing in magic is just running into danger, not having any knowledge or preparation, right? What do those 'silly' professors know, in your opinion?" She glared at Ron, who looked a little embarrassed under her stare.
"I didn't mean it like that…" he started to explain.
"Well, I'll be interested to see," Hermione cut him off, "how you two handle traps that won't be solved with just a brave look and a confident walk."
Her nostrils flared with anger, and she was breathing like a bull ready to charge. Ron flushed but held her gaze. "I don't doubt your courage," he said. "And you're probably right—we'll be up against some tough stuff. But I'm not leaving Harry alone. That's all I meant." He fell quiet, his stubborn expression making it clear his mind was made up.
'Ron's changed this year,' she thought suddenly. 'He used to be the first to complain about anything dangerous, but now he's willing to follow Harry anywhere.' Hermione sighed and turned back to her books. She couldn't let these overconfident idiots go without her. They'd be lost for sure on their own.
Finally, the Gryffindor common room emptied out, and the friends were ready to leave. Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak, and they quietly headed for the door.
"What are you doing?" came a sudden voice from the corner of the room.
Hermione jumped and spun around. Sitting in an armchair with his toad in his lap was Neville Longbottom. He was the last person Hermione wanted to see right now. He'd already gotten into trouble because of them, and after the trip to the forest and her careless remark, he'd been avoiding her. Now they'd have to lie to him again…
"Nothing, Neville, nothing," Harry tried to calm him, but Neville wasn't buying it.
"You're going out again," he said, frowning and glaring at them.
"No, no, no," Hermione jumped in, trying to use all her charm, "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"
She looked at him with concern and pleading, but Neville didn't believe them. Worse, he stepped in front of the door, blocking their way, ready to stand his ground. Hermione couldn't help but feel a little proud of this quiet boy. She still felt protective of him, almost like an older sister.
Seeing that they were getting nowhere, a desperate Harry turned to her and said, "Do something."
Hermione hesitated for a moment. Neville was already upset with her, and she didn't want to hurt him, but they were running out of time. They had to move fast if they were going to beat Snape to the Philosopher's Stone.
"Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this," she whispered, feeling a knot in her chest as she raised her wand. She saw the flash of fear in Neville's eyes just before she cast the spell: "Petrificus Totalus!"
A second later, Neville froze and fell stiffly, face-first onto the floor.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped, unable to help herself. She rushed over to make sure he wasn't hurt.
Gently rolling him over, she looked into his wide, frightened eyes.
"Please forgive me," she muttered again, looking away.
The sight of Neville's scared eyes stuck with her. She couldn't believe how easily she had just used a spell on a friend—especially someone as harmless as Neville. Leaving him there on the floor, Hermione, Harry, and Ron slipped out, all of them casting guilty looks back at him. It wasn't the best start...
Huddled under the Invisibility Cloak, they trudged toward the room with Fluffy, feeling down. But when they got there, they saw the door was already open. They stopped—it was clear Snape had beaten them to it.