"But who was that desperate man?" Harry asked loudly, posing his question. "If you're going to be cursed for the rest of your life, you might as well be dead, right?"
"Indeed," Firenze agreed. "Unless you are only using it to prolong your life long enough to drink something else—something that will restore you to full strength and power and grant you immortality. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"
"The Philosopher's Stone! Of course, the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who..."
"Can you not think of who, after quietly waiting for so many years, is eager to return to power... who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?" Firenze continued to lay out the obvious questions.
For a moment, it was as if an iron claw had suddenly seized Harry's heart. He couldn't even feel the pain in his leg anymore, only gasped for breath as if he would suffocate otherwise.
"You don't mean," Harry said in a low, hoarse voice, "you don't mean Vold—"
Marcel, however, wasn't paying attention to what Harry was saying. He was with Hermione, who seemed a bit unwell. Her face was pale, and she remained silent.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" Marcel asked, looking at her.
"No, it's nothing. I just—" Hermione pressed her lips together. "I just feel like I've read so many books and learned so much knowledge. But when it's time to use it—"
"If I could have even used a Levitation Charm back then, Harry wouldn't have been hurt."
Marcel gently shook his head and said in a low voice, "It has to be done step by step. And you should narrow the scope of your studies. At the very least, you should first learn how to choose."
Hermione nodded. Marcel had said similar things several times before, but it was only now that she truly began to listen.
"Alright, our target has been found. We should be heading back," Hagrid said, clapping his hands.
As Marcel had said, Harry's leg injury healed quickly. He didn't even have to wait until the next day. Amidst amazed praises, he and Hermione chatted with Ron for a long time. In the common room, Harry revealed his theory: he believed Snape's true purpose in stealing the Philosopher's Stone was to give it to Voldemort.
For this reason, Harry excitedly told Hermione and Ron about his discovery. Instantly, Harry's excitement, Ron's panic, and Hermione's worry were all laid bare. The three of them, each with their own thoughts, began the end-of-term life leading up to their exams.
…
Naturally, everyone's experience with the exams was different.
Harry, for instance, had been constantly worried about where Voldemort might pop up. This speculation often left him agitated. But as the days passed, it seemed Fluffy was still snoring safely behind the locked door.
Hermione, for another example, was also nervously revising. She always felt that her grasp of the material was not yet solid enough, so she went over her notes again and again, memorizing or copying them.
And then there was Marcel. Er, there wasn't much to say about him, because his mind was not on the exams at all. Every day, he was either researching the theoretical materials of Potions or wrestling with the Scroll of Truth. It was the same thing every day, not worth mentioning.
The days passed, and the exams finally arrived.
But surprisingly, Marcel almost missed the first exam. This was only because he had, as usual, timed his arrival perfectly, showing up at the classroom where the lesson was scheduled for that day just before it started, having completely forgotten that it was actually exam day.
Exam time always passed quickly. Before long, the tense exams were over.
While Harry and the others were relaxing in the warm sunshine, Marcel had already returned to the library to continue his great research project. And it must be said, he had recently made some progress with the symbols on the Scroll of Truth. He estimated he would be able to figure something out soon.
And because of this, he left the library not long after. This time, he went directly to the Room of Requirement—he had some interesting ideas he wanted to try.
Just as Marcel was feeling exhilarated by his research discoveries, Harry and the others learned some very bad news from Hagrid.
"...Hagrid, I have to ask you something. Do you remember the night you won Norbert in cards? What did the stranger you were playing with look like?"
"Dunno," said Hagrid casually. "He wouldn't take his cloak off."
He saw the looks of horror on the three children's faces and raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"It's not that odd, you get a lot of funny folk in the Hog's Head—that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn't he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."
At these words, Harry sank to the ground with a thud.
"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts?"
"Mighta done," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the creatures I look after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon."
"An'... I can't remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks... Let me think... yeah, then he said he had a dragon egg, an' we could play cards for it if I wanted... but he had to be sure I could handle it, he didn't want it wanderin' off and causin' trouble. So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon was nothin'—"
"And did he seem... seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Well—yeah—how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off to sleep—"
At this, a look of horror and regret instantly appeared on Hagrid's face.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately got up and left. They walked in silence all the way to the entrance hall before stopping.
"We've got to go to Dumbledore—"
Harry paced back and forth but couldn't think of how to find him. Just as they were hesitating, Professor McGonagall appeared behind them.
"If you are looking for Professor Dumbledore, he left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew to London at once."
"He's gone?" Harry said in extreme anxiety. "Now?"
"Professor Dumbledore is a great wizard, with many important matters to attend to. His time is precious—"
"But this is important!"
When Harry blurted out the words "Philosopher's Stone," Professor McGonagall was so shocked she dropped all her books.
"How do you know—" she stammered.
"Professor, I think—I know that Snape... someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore!"
Professor McGonagall looked at him with a mixture of shock and suspicion. It was clear she didn't believe him and seemed to have great faith in the Stone's defenses.
In the end, she simply left them with the words, "I suggest you all go and enjoy the sunshine," and hurried away.
"Tonight," Harry said, as soon as he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."
"But what can we—"
Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron spun around to find Snape standing right behind them.
"Good afternoon, little lions," he said, sneering at them.
"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," Snape said, his facial muscles twisting into a grotesque smile.
"We were just—" Harry found he didn't know what to say.
"You want to be careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"
Harry's face flushed with anger. They turned to leave, but Snape called them back.
"Be warned, Potter. Any more night-time wanderings and I will personally see to it that you are expelled," Snape sneered. "Have a pleasant day."
As soon as the three of them were on the stone steps outside, Harry began to speak impatiently.
"Right, here's what we've got to do," he said urgently in a low voice. "One of us has to keep an eye on Snape—wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that."
Hermione was about to ask why her, but the words that came out were different.
"Why don't we consult Marcel first?"
It was clear that her trust in Marcel was significantly higher than in Harry and Ron.
Harry thought about it and felt that perhaps Hermione was right. Marcel always had a way, and he was always calm about breaking school rules.
But when they had searched almost the entire school and still couldn't find Marcel, they couldn't help but wonder.
"Where did Marcel go?" Ron asked, scratching his head in puzzlement.
"It should be, where could he have gone? We've looked everywhere!" Hermione was equally perplexed.
After a moment of hesitation, it was Harry who made the decision.
"Let's stick to the original plan," he said. "We'll split up and keep an eye on Snape first."