Hagrid's cabin.
After the match, Harry brought Hermione and Ron here to have afternoon tea with Hagrid, "coincidentally" discussing their discoveries.
"I was just found by Professor Fawley!" Hermione said, still feeling a bit frightened.
Hagrid handed her a cup of strong tea and asked in confusion, "Found what by Fawley?"
"He found Hermione casting a spell on Snape," Ron replied matter-of-factly, "but why didn't he expose you?"
Hermione held the teacup in her hands, pondering, but Hagrid became anxious.
"Why would Hermione cast a spell on Snape? How could you treat a professor like this?" he asked, looking at them with concern.
He hadn't even noticed Hermione's brief disappearance, let alone what happened on the staff stand.
"The weirdness with Harry's broom was because Snape was casting a spell on it," Ron said, picking up a rock cake casually. "I saw him muttering incantations."
"Nonsense, if Fawley could find Hermione casting a spell, he surely would have noticed Snape casting one too!" Hagrid slammed the teapot down heavily.
Hermione's expression was conflicted, her hands gripping the teacup tightly, as if she wanted to crush it, her fingers turning white from the force.
"But... what if Fawley and Snape are in cahoots?"
"Impossible!" Harry retorted immediately. "Professor Fawley is so kind, and Snape is just the opposite. How could they collude?"
Hermione released her grip on the teacup and gently placed her hand in the pocket of her robe, where the handkerchief the professor had given her was kept. She didn't want to make unwarranted assumptions about the professor.
"But think about it, we met Fawley on the fourth floor before, and on Halloween, Snape also tried to get past that three-headed dog."
" Wait, how do you know about what happened on the fourth floor with Fluffy?"
"Fluffy?"
"That's what I lent to Dumbledore, to guard—"
"Guard what?" Harry asked eagerly.
"That's none of your concern!"
"But Professor Fawley and Snape wanted to steal that thing!"
"Impossible. If Fawley was involved, why would he let Hermione disrupt Snape's spell?"
Ron rubbed his chin thoughtfully, discreetly putting the rock cake back. That thing almost knocked his teeth out.
"Is it possible that Fawley is a good person who doesn't want to harm Harry but still wants to steal that thing?" Harry's eyes lit up.
Hagrid shook his head angrily.
"Impossible. No good person would want to steal from Nicolas Flamel—"
Harry's eyes widened.
"Oh! So that thing belongs to Nicolas Flamel, right?"
Hagrid furiously drove the three out of the hut. He decided to lock himself in and sulk for the day!
Outside the hut, Hermione was still pondering about Professor Fawley.
"No, I have to go ask the professor myself!"
Ron and Harry quickly stopped her.
"Are you crazy?"
"Are you going to ask the professor if he plans to steal something from the fourth floor?"
Ron imitated Hermione's questioning posture before dissuading her from her impulse.
"But what if the professor really wants to steal that thing? What should we do?" Hermione asked helplessly.
Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe we can even help the professor out."
Hermione burst out laughing incredulously.
"Professor Fawley is just a suspect, isn't he? Ron, don't you play wizard chess with him every day? You could try to sound him out!" Harry suddenly suggested.
Ron immediately shook his head and waved his hand.
"Forget it, I finally have the chance to get guidance from the professor, I don't want to ruin it with a suspicion."
"And when you face the professor for an hour, it's like his eyes can see right through you!"
"I wouldn't dare to bring up something like this."
"Although George and them say the professor's knowledge is so vast that he can see through my thoughts at a glance, but I always feel something's not right."
He thought of that scenario for a moment, suddenly shuddering and refusing outright.
Harry hadn't experienced such a thing, but he immediately pictured himself facing Snape.
"Let's forget it then, let's first investigate about Nicolas Flamel. Once we know what's hidden there, it won't be too late to make a decision."
The other two sighed in relief; they didn't want to question Professor Fawley either.
"Wait, are we just assuming that Snape wants to steal something?" Hermione noticed a blind spot.
Thinking about Snape's differential treatment of him, Harry exclaimed,
"Compared to Professor Fawley, I'll believe Snape is up to anything!"
...
On the other side, Tewell was still unaware of his natural talent for taking the blame from Snape, and even if he knew, he would just laugh it off.
Because he really was going to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
"Professor, am I really terrible at magic?" Neville cried.
They were practicing stable magic output, but after failing for the tenth time, Neville's confidence, which had been carefully cultivated, began to collapse.
In previous lessons, Tewell helped Neville learn to output magic and successfully cast spells.
But there was another issue here: when using magic like the Levitation Charm that has a continuous effect, Neville's magical connection would unconsciously disconnect after a certain period of time.
It was somewhat akin to the magical point map made by Tewell, where the connection between the badge and the map would suddenly break.
This sparked his curiosity.
"Don't be discouraged. I can assure you, your magical talent is absolutely on par with any student in the castle.
It's just that your foundation isn't solid enough. You need to practice multiple times. Be prepared to spend twice as much practice time as others."
Neville sniffed and held back the tears that were about to fall.
"I... I'm not afraid of practicing more than others. It's just... I feel like I'm wasting your time and guidance."
"How could that be? Teaching students is what teachers do."
"Come on, lift your wand again. This time, slow down the magical output a bit. It's better to slow down and try to maintain a continuous output."
Neville was deeply moved. The tears he had just stopped couldn't help but flow again.
He now only had one feeling— if possible, I want to be the professor's student for life!
He wiped away the tears decisively, pursed his lips tightly, and his round face was filled with determination.
I can't cry anymore, and I can't disappoint the professor anymore!
He aimed his wand at the small ball on the ground.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The small ball slowly floated up and came to Neville's front.
"Very good. Your pronunciation of this spell is much better than most students. Control the ball to stay in the air, but don't stop the magical output."
Neville's little face was drumming, his eyes staring straight at the ball, watching it become somewhat unstable. He quickly became more focused on the magical output.
Completely absorbed, he didn't realize that this attempt took longer than before, long enough for his magic to run out before he snapped out of it.
Sweat beaded on his forehead due to the depletion of magic, but Neville's eyes were filled with joy.
"Professor! I finally did it!"
His tears filled his eyes once again.
"No, I promised I wouldn't cry." Neville thought to himself, then blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears.
Tewell's expression was somewhat strange as he clapped his hands and asked tentatively,
"Can you try failing again?"
Neville...