During class that day, Harry deliberately sought out Luke, even going so far as to leave Ron behind, forcing him to pair up with another dormmate.
From the looks of it, Ron's new pairing wasn't exactly smooth sailing—in fact, it was downright stagnant.
Ron held his wand with his eyes closed, speaking in such a strange tone that it was hard to tell whether he was casting a spell or saying a prayer.
It was as if magic had turned into some sort of divine ritual.
Harry glanced over briefly but didn't intervene. He already had a good idea of Ron's skill level.
"We opened the door and stepped into the room."
Harry didn't beat around the bush, directly stating his discovery. His expression grew serious, appropriately conveying the gravity of the situation.
Luke's face remained neutral, but internally, he was surprised. Upon further reflection, however, he realized it wasn't entirely shocking. The plot had indeed advanced to this point despite many changes.
Harry and Ron were particularly adept at getting themselves into trouble. Even without Hermione, the duo's determination could push them to act on their ideas—though carrying them out was another matter. A locked door, for instance, was hardly enough to deter them.
"After we returned last time, I specifically learned the 'Alohomora' spell. Then we snuck into that room."
Harry's face showed a trace of lingering fear. "We saw a Cerberus there!"
He lowered his voice, and even so, it trembled slightly with lingering fright.
For a young wizard who had lived most of his life in the Muggle world, the sight of a Cerberus was inherently terrifying, conjuring images of "hellhounds."
Despite Ron's later explanations—that Cerberuss were dangerous magical creatures but nowhere near as fearsome as myth suggested—Harry couldn't entirely shake his deeply ingrained impressions.
Years of beliefs aren't so easily overturned, so Harry still harbored some fear.
"It was asleep, so we quickly backed out without disturbing it."
"Wise choice, Harry," Luke responded, looking at him intently. "A Cerberus is not something you two could handle at this stage. Creatures like that shouldn't even be in Hogwarts' castle under normal circumstances."
"Ron said the same," Harry replied. "But I think it's some kind of security measure. I saw a trapdoor under it."
"I believe whatever Dumbledore is hiding must be beneath that trapdoor."
Harry looked at Luke expectantly, his eyes serious as he asked, "Do you know how to deal with a Cerberus? I remember you're very knowledgeable about magical creatures. Hagrid mentioned that to me more than once."
Every time Harry visited Hagrid, the half-giant would gush about how exceptional Luke was, predicting that he would one day become an outstanding Magizoologist.
Harry felt a twinge of envy but not jealousy. After all, both Professor McGonagall and Hagrid were equally effusive in praising Harry's flying skills.
When you excel in a particular area, even if your friend surpasses you in many others, it doesn't necessarily make you feel inferior.
Luke thought for a moment and then said helplessly, "Sorry, Harry, I can't help. The methods I know to deal with a Cerberus aren't something you can use."
Strong sleep charms, powerful blasting curses, the Killing Curse, or the Imperius Curse—any of these could work against a Cerberus. In fact, not just a Cerberus, even dragons could be subdued with similar methods.
But these were far beyond the abilities of a first-year wizard. Even Hagrid himself didn't rely on such methods;
He often engaged magical creatures in hand-to-hand combat instead.
Harry's eyes showed a hint of doubt, and Luke wasn't surprised. After all, he'd already turned down Harry and Ron's invitation once.
Now that they thought they'd made substantial progress, his continued refusal to help could easily lead them to believe he simply didn't want to assist.
Not every eleven-year-old has a mature mindset or logical reasoning skills. Hermione was already exceptional in that regard, and Taylor, having endured far more, was an unique case.
After sighing, Luke decided to share all the methods he knew for dealing with a Cerberus.
Harry listened intently, though he felt both overwhelmed and slightly ashamed.
"If you can master any one of these, you'll have a chance against the Cerberus. If you can manage two, you'll have a good shot"
Luke concluded, wearing a resigned expression.
Of course, the methods he mentioned were general strategies for dealing with any Cerberus, not specifically Fluffy. While Cerberuss were formidable, each individual creature had its own unique weaknesses.
In Fluffy's case, the weakness was almost laughable—falling asleep to music.
"Alright, I understand. Thanks, Luke"
Harry said, a mixture of resignation and gratitude in his voice.
He knew that finding this kind of information on his own would have been a long and incomplete process, especially since restricted curses like the Killing Curse or Imperius Curse wouldn't be mentioned in any of the non-restricted library books.
"You're welcome, my suggestion is, if you're still keen on this, ask Hagrid. He might have some ideas."
Luke gave this hint kindly, not wanting to tarnish the virtuous image Harry seemed to have of him just yet.
Harry nodded seriously, though he doubted asking Hagrid would yield much more. Besides, even with his good relationship with Hagrid, the latter was still a "teacher."
At this stage, Harry didn't think the situation warranted asking a teacher for help—at least not yet.
Luke, noticing Harry's expression and demeanor, could more or less guess his thoughts. In the original timeline, Harry and his friends only sought Hagrid's help after the dangerous Quidditch match incident.
For now, they still viewed this as an adventure. It wasn't until their lives were genuinely endangered that they began to treat the situation with the gravity it deserved.
Of course, these were matters for later. For now, both Luke and Harry exchanged nervous smiles as Professor Flitwick occasionally glanced in their direction. Taking the hint, Luke shifted his focus to seriously guiding Harry on the finer points of the Levitation Charm.
With Luke's help, at least Harry avoided the awkwardness of praying to the feather like Ron was doing.
Unbelievably, Ron's method turned out to be the standard approach for most of the class...
Professor Flitwick had yet to lose his composure, which was quite remarkable.
---
In the afternoon, everyone gathered again in the Transfiguration classroom. Taylor approached Luke out of curiosity and asked, "What did Harry talk to you about?"
"He asked about the Cerberus. They found one guarding something in that off-limits room. If they want to explore further, they'll need to deal with it, so they came to me for advice"
Luke explained frankly.
Taylor nodded, then glanced around before discreetly casting a Silencing Charm.
"What's in that room?" she asked curiously.
"And who's this trap supposed to catch? Isn't it a bit... crude?"
"It's an open scheme," Luke replied straightforwardly. "What's hidden inside is something few could resist. If I'm not mistaken, it's the Philosopher's Stone."
As soon as the words came out, Taylor froze for a moment.
The Philosopher's Stone was legendary in the wizarding world. Anyone with even a basic knowledge of alchemy knew about Nicolas Flamel.
However, Flamel had kept himself hidden so effectively that only alchemy enthusiasts were aware of him. That was why, in the original timeline, Harry and the others struggled to find information about him—though, in hindsight, their ignorance seemed somewhat ridiculous.
Luke gave up trying to make sense of it and instead lightly tapped Taylor's head to snap her out of her daze.
"Come back to reality. What's the big deal? It's just the Philosopher's Stone. Look how worked up you got"
"Immortality! Turning things to gold!"
Taylor exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment. "And it's just sitting here at school? What are we waiting for? Let's go grab it!"
Luke couldn't help but chuckle at her uncharacteristic outburst. Normally so composed, Taylor now seemed almost adorably flustered. It was the first time he'd seen this side of her.
Noticing Luke's amused gaze, Taylor's face flushed, and she quickly collected herself.
"You're right—it wouldn't work," she admitted.
Something like the Philosopher's Stone being stored at Hogwarts was obviously bait, and with Dumbledore holding the metaphorical fishing rod, rushing to take the bait would be far from wise.
Still, resisting the allure of such an item wasn't easy, which was why Luke was quite satisfied with Taylor's reaction.
So far, his impression of her went beyond "Legilimency prodigy," "Potion genius," and "natural-born mage."
She had broad knowledge, maintained her composure, and demonstrated strong initiative and competence—traits of an ideal all-around assistant.
"Alright, don't overthink it," Luke reassured her, ruffling her hair with a smile. "If I already know about it, I've got a plan."
Taylor lightly shook her head, but when Luke's hand stayed firmly on her head despite the motion, she didn't push further. Instead, she simply shot him an angry glare.
Luke responded with a cheerful smile.
Their playful exchange didn't go unnoticed—Hermione, sitting nearby, frowned at the scene.
Though she felt a flicker of displeasure, she couldn't pinpoint a justifiable reason for it. Letting out a huff, she focused on her book with a little more vigor than necessary.
---
Before long, the sound of the bell rang out, and Professor McGonagall entered the classroom.
Luke noticed her visibly tired expression and furrowed his brow. The exhaustion was evident and concerning.
However, he knew that even if he offered to help, McGonagall would likely decline. Besides, there wasn't much he could do for her at the moment, so he simply kept his thoughts to himself.
"All right, we'll continue practicing the exercises from last time"
McGonagall announced, mustering her energy as she assigned tasks to the class.
Lessons weren't particularly complicated—the theoretical part had already been covered in the previous session. Today's focus was practical application.
With the instructions given, the students resumed their practice. Luke decided to prioritize helping Taylor complete her task.
Previously, he had given Hermione some extra guidance in Transfiguration, but Taylor had missed out due to her potion studies with Snape.
As Luke guided Taylor, McGonagall approached them.
Luke glanced up, surprised by her serious expression. "What's wrong, Professor?" he asked curiously.
McGonagall didn't answer immediately. Instead, she studied Luke intently, making him feel slightly uneasy. Finally, she spoke. "Come to my office after dinner tomorrow."
Luke nodded. "Understood Professor, No problem."
After a brief hesitation, he asked, "Professor, can you tell me what it's about?"
McGonagall took a deep breath before replying, "I need to consult you on something."
Both Luke and Taylor froze in shock.
McGonagall offered no further explanation.
"Don't forget to come"
She added before moving on to assist other students.
"Consult you?"
Taylor asked hesitantly, still processing the situation.
"Consult me…"
Luke murmured, his lips twitching slightly. Yet, a faint suspicion had already begun to form in his mind.
The rest of the lesson passed under an odd atmosphere.
Even after dinner, Taylor continued to cast curious looks at Luke, which only subsided when they retired to their respective dormitories.
---
The next morning, the Great Hall buzzed with activity as students gathered for breakfast.
The sound of fluttering wings filled the air as a flock of owls swooped in through the windows and doors, delivering letters and packages.
Excitement lit up many faces, though not Luke's or Taylor's—they rarely received mail unless they sent something out first.
Today however, a sudden exception left Luke puzzled. An owl flew straight toward him, dropped a letter onto the table, and left without pause.
Luke picked up the letter, inspecting it. The envelope bore his name and address, but no information about the sender or other markings.
"Who's it from?"
Taylor asked, her curiosity piqued.
"I've no idea"
Luke replied, holding the envelope thoughtfully before slipping it into his pocket for later.
*****
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