The Stone and Corruption

 |November 12, 1991|Great Hall|

It was early on a Saturday morning, and, on this beautiful weekend day, I shot murderous glares at Harry, who, disturbed by the piercing looks I gave him, said, 

"I know I broke our promise, but you can't blame me for that. Hermione, Ron, and I were doing important things this week," he said, thinking that his guilty look could change something. 

"I believe you've used the worst possible excuse, dear little brother. Look," I turned, sporting a fake cheerful expression, towards Hermione, who, along with Ronald, was sitting with us at the table. "Hermione don't lie to me. Have you finished your homework? I don't believe that an excellent student like you hasn't done it." In both cases, whether she has done her homework or not, she will say that she did it out of duty or embarrassment.

 "Uh, yes, of course, I did it as soon as I received it. But Harry, don't lie. We were really busy this week; these two were waiting to have all the homework to do them," she said, avoiding Harry and Ron's betrayed gazes.

 "You still prove my point, Hermione. And besides, Harry promised me. A promise is only as good as its word, and when the word loses its value, no matter what you say, no matter how plausible it may be, there will be doubt that lingers with the one you've broken your promise to."

I gave this lesson to Harry because it's one of the things that mattered most to me; lying will always create a crack of trust in a relationship. That's why my heart broke when I found out that the old woman at the orphanage lied to me about knowing who my parents were. It's a story for another time, but the fact remains that lying is something I detest the most.

"But again, for the love of magic, what were you working so hard on that you thought a makeup session in the H.E.L.L wasn't more serious than not finishing your work?"

Harry paled at the mention of the Room of Requirement; I think I traumatized him. Well, it's okay; at least he'll be less likely to slack off.

"What's this H.E.L.L? Is it the thing that transformed Harry? And why is he scared?" As the good friend that he is, Ronald defended Harry. I can't deny that he's very protective, maybe too much if I think... yeah, very few people would give their life for another.

Don't worry, Ronald, it's just a secret between Harry and me," my response was a little disturbed, but he growled less in my presence. I think my show of power has somewhat subdued his hostility towards me.

"We're trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel is for something. But we can't find any clues about him. It's really frustrating," Hermione told me. But I couldn't understand why they didn't know who he was, someone so famous. Maybe he's not as well-known in our time. At least not as much as I thought.

"Well, in that case, I propose an exchange. You tell me why you're looking for him, and in return, I'll tell you what I know about him."

They all looked at me with an expression of astonishment at what I had just said.

"Wait, you knew the answer!? Why didn't I think to ask you? It would have saved us a lot of time. I agree to the exchange," Hermione said, sighing.

"Hermione, we can't tell him. The Stone is supposed to be a secret," Ronald whispered aloud.

"Ron, my brother can keep a secret if asked to promise, and besides, he has very good hearing, so he heard you talking about the Stone," Harry immediately told him. It was funny to see Ron's reaction after realizing his mistake.

My brother continued to whisper so that others wouldn't hear us. "There's an object here that someone is desperately trying to take. He tried to break into Gringotts to get the thing in the vault belonging to Hogwarts. The only thing we know about the object is that it belonged to Nicolas Flamel and that it's some kind of stone."

I couldn't believe my overdeveloped ears. In this school, there is a stone that belonged to the greatest alchemist of all time, and someone is desperately seeking it to the point of risking the wrath of the goblins? Even I want to steal it.

"So, do you know something about Nicolas Flamel?" Harry brought me back from my thoughts, and a question arose in my mind.

"Harry, answer me clearly. Why are you looking for information on the stone?" My question surprised him, but not as much as the way I called him, I think. Since we met again, I always called him little brother. But this time, I used his name. I want him to understand that this story is not a joke.

"Euh, I first need to tell you the story that happened to us so that you understand," he recounted the tale of their adventures to all three of them. How they got lost in the restricted area to escape Filch, how they unlocked a locked door, and how they encountered the three-headed dog guarding the entrance to where the stone was placed. According to them, Snape is looking for this stone for an uncertain purpose, as he had larger claw marks than normal that I also saw.

I can understand a bit why Snape would want the stone, because I do too. But I don't think it's him; if he wanted to use it for study or experiments, he would have just asked Dumbledore. But stealing it? He's not stupid enough to do that; he has nothing to gain and everything to lose. Unless... he would do it for Mum.

This stone can extend life, so why not give life? It's just as stupid, but I know he was obsessed with my mother. But even I don't want to do that; there are too many problems with bringing back the dead. First comes the soul container; you have to create a homunculus to hope to create a perfect receptacle. You also need to find the method to bring back the soul from what I think is the realm of the dead.

And even if we find a way to do these two things, we will have to face death. If I've learned one thing from the Ritual, it's that incarnations of things like death, destiny, and life exist. But as a descendant of the Peverells, I know that playing with death and bringing someone back to life only leads to madness.

"Lilian, LILIAN. Stop being silent; it's your turn to answer us. It was an exchange, right?" They all looked in my direction curiously.

I sighed in annoyance; I know that if I say what I know, they will once again head straight into trouble, but I have only one word. "What do you know about the Philosopher's Stone?"

"We don't care about a stone; we want to know who Nicolas Flamel is," of course, this idiot Ronald said, not seeing where I was going.

"Shut up and answer," I replied sharply.

"The Philosopher's Stone is the ultimate goal of alchemy because it allows the transformation of any metal into gold and the creation of the Elixir of Life. Many have sought to create it, but only one person succeeded," Hermione said fluently, as if reciting a book memorized by heart.

"And the one who succeeded, who is it?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she found the answer in her head. "But yes, of course, Nicolas Flamel. The hidden stone at Hogwarts is the Philosopher's Stone. Why didn't I think of it sooner? Director Dumbledore was one of his students!"

"There you have your answer, even though I must say it is highly unlikely that Snape is trying to steal it."

Before he could ask me why, shrill noises were heard. The owls, delivering the parcels of the day, arrived one by one. Skotádi also brought me something: scientific review books that I had asked Nixie for, and also a letter from her. Harry also received one.

I had asked Nixie once where she gets these books since she is a house-elf, and she told me she goes through an intermediary.

As I was about to read the book "Paradigms of Artificial Intelligence Programming: Case Studies in Common Lisp" that I received, another owl carrying a large package headed towards us.

"Look, Harry, you received a package! Quickly, open it." Why was Ronald more excited than my brother to receive something?

My brother opened his package, and inside was a magical broom.

"OH, by Merlin's beard, it's a Nimbus 2000, the fastest broom so far! I don't know who sent you this, Harry, but it's clear that we're going to win the House Quidditch Cup."

"Stop, Mr. Referee. Even though I'm not a big fan of Quidditch with its stupid rules, I believe you're not allowed to have a personal broom before the second year." I think I killed the mood with my use of rules, but even though he's my brother, I was selected for Slytherin, so "home before bro."

Madam McGonagall passing by heard my phrase and replied, "Mr. Potter, even though you are right, an exception was made for young Harry, as he is the first in a century to join a Quidditch team at such a young age. Isn't that exciting?" Our Transfiguration professor acted like a diabetic in a candy store. I now knew who had delivered the magical broom to Harry and who had asked for an exception.

I knew I wouldn't win this argument; I said, "Damn corruption."