18: Vault of Ice and Flamel

[3rd Pov]

The Fiendyre curse, having melted the frozen corridor, didn't leave a sole scratch in the great door. Having been stripped from its iced cover, the gate stood tall, the snowflake symbol shining ever brightly.

As much as Alaric wanted to rush past the door, he quickly approached his companion. Daphne was laying sprawled against the former frosted wall, unconscious. With his wand near her head, he whispered a healing spell, in case the girl had any form of concussion or injury.

"Rennervate," he whispered again, under his breath. Daphne, being the target of the spell, slowly fluttered her eyelids open. She looked around, confused, before looking at the now melted corridor.

"You alright?" asked Alaric, concerned about her well-being. The girl gazed at the boy in front of her, and she could swear she saw a sun brightly shining behind, beautifying his features.

'I guess I have a concussion,' she thought, chuckling dryly. Alaric looked at her, raising one of his eyebrows, confused, seeing Daphne laughing to herself, forgetting to use Occlumency to hide her emotions as she usually does.

"Did you defeat them?" she asked, noticing the absence of even the remains of their opponents.

"I did," he smiled, before slouching down over her, "I better take you to Madam Pomfrey," he said, lifting the girl in a princess carry. Daphne shortcircuited for a while, before furiously blushing.

"G-GET ME DOWN!" she shouted, freeing herself from the boy's clutches. She looked at him angrily, panting from the embarrassment, her face pinkish in color. She quickly stormed away, in the direction of the gate.

Alaric stared blankly at her back, before laughing out loud, getting another pissed look from the blonde-haired girl.

Even if Daphne denied it, she was slowly opening up to the silver-blonde-haired boy, showing more and more of her emotions to him without the usual restrictions.

The duo approached the door, the water puddles from the melted ice splashing against their shoes.

The whispers Alaric was hearing were getting louder and louder, to the point he barely heard the girl next to him.

"Wands ready," he said, prompting Daphne to hold her wand tightly in her hand.

Alaric carefully touched the door. That moment, the runes carved on it shone, and when the doors opened, an indescribable feeling washed over him.

Being gifted with the ability to see magic in its true form made Alaric familiar with most types of magic. From curses to healing spells, from transfiguration to alchemy, he could easily distinguish them, associating the color they would usually have, as well as the feeling they would give the wizard.

So when he comes across not only magical whispers he had never seen but also a sensation unlike any other, a mixture of apprehension and excitement leaks from him.

As the door creaked open, it revealed an oval room behind it. As they entered it, they were immediately struck by its grandeur and sense of antiquity. The walls were made of dark stone, intricately carved with ancient symbols and patterns, and the ceiling raised high above them, supported by massive pillars of the same stone. The room was dimly lit by flickering torches, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

In the center of the room, on a raised platform, sat two ancient-looking objects. One was a large, oval-shaped object made of a silvery, glossy material that seems to reflect all light around it. Being held by small silver chains, it formed a necklace, intricately carved with strange symbols and patterns, that seem to shift and move as they walked around it. The artifact was emanating palpable magic, sending chills down their spine.

The other was a leather notebook, worn and weathered, the once-golden letters on the spine faded and barely legible.

Alaric's gaze was fixed on the necklace. The whispers he had followed all gathered on the small artifact. The magic radiating from it felt almost like...

'Ancient...' he thought. The magic that was leaking wasn't like anything he had ever seen. It gave a feeling of complexity, far more powerful then regular magic.

Stepping closer to it and grabbing the necklace, the white aura around the artifact started to slowly seep into Alaric's hands. Not noticing her friend's trance, Daphne grabbed the notebook.

"Sepulchra Maledicta..." she muttered, reading the fading letters on its cover. When she tried to open the book, Daphne shrieked, dropping it to the ground, her hand slightly burned.

Hearing the sudden squeal, Alaric broke from his trance and turned to the girl. Her palms were reddish from the burn, trembling from the pain.

"What in Merlin's name happened..." said Alaric, getting hold of her hands. Daphne just looked at the book on the ground, biting her lip, trying to endure the pain.

Alaric looked at her eyes, glassy from the tears threatening to break out. He quickly grabbed both the necklace and the book, placing them in his magic pouch, before quickly dragging Daphne to the infirmary, while holding her.

If the blush on her face was because of the pain or Alaric, no one knew.

__________

[Lysandra's Pov]

As Madam Hooch blew the final whistle, marking the end of the game, the Gryffindor students erupted in cheers of joy and enthusiasm. Harry had, somehow, swallowed the snitch whole, catching it, right before the game ended.

Even so, during the first half of the game, his broom was showing signs of jinxing. Ron, with his ever-so-brilliant mind, instantly assumed it was Snape. His delusions were starting to rub off on Hermione, as she immediately went to disturb the man, setting his cape on fire.

Interestingly, I noticed the Professor was muttering not a curse, but a counter-curse, meaning that perhaps, he didn't exactly hate Harry. That's some food for thought.

This just reinforced my idea that he wasn't trying to get past Fluffy. However, I occasionally went to the third floor, to check on the creature. The dog was rather cute when he realized you weren't trying to get past him. My last visit allowed me to notice that someone was indeed trying to get past him.

Scorch marks on the walls, slight bruises on the Cerebrus necks, the slash and bite marks on the floor. Everything pointed to forced entry to whatever Fluffy was protecting.

'I should tell Alaric' I thought. I intended to do it during the game, but Tracey, one of the few Slytherins you could have a proper talk to, said he didn't come to watch the game.

Strange. He loved the game far more than me. The countless banners he had in his room back in the castle were a testament to it.

"Nonsense! Why would Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?" Oh, Hagrid, it's no use. I swear they have selective listening.

"Who knows? Why was he trying to get past Fluffy on Halloween?" said Hope. Maybe if you listened to me, you would understand he was probably checking for intruders.

"Shhhh..." sushed Hagrid, while looking around worriedly, "I told yeh that name by mistake, don' go sayin' it out loud! And besides... why would he want what it's guardin'? It's not somethin' anyone should be messin' with, trust me. The thing that's locked up in there is dangerous, powerful, and not to be trifled with. Dumbledore put it there for a reason, and we should respect his wishes and leave it be. Now, let's not go talkin' about this anymore, eh?"

"But, Hagrid, whatever Fluffy's guarding, Snape's trying to steal it. We're sure of it," replied Harry.

Hagrid turns to look at all of us, before sighing. "Now, listen to me, all five o' yeh. Yer meddlin' in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous business, that. What that dog's guardin' is strictly between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. It's not for curious young wizards like yourselves to be pokin' yer noses into,"

Nicholas Flamel? Don't tell me... the Philosopher's Stone?

"Aha!" shouted Ron, "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

I hurriedly poured some magic into my black ring. A while back, I and my brother discovered that they resonated with each other if in contact with magic, allowing us to locate each other without being in peril.

I separated from the group, not caring about their calls. If the Philosopher's Stone was involved, then this was much more important than I first thought it to be. I followed the way the ring reacted with. I noticed someone was following me, but I paid little to no attention.

Arriving at the first floor, I opened the doors to the Hospital Wing. Within, were many rows of beds with white sheets, privacy screens, and bedpans. In the closest to the left, a girl with golden locks was sitting, her hands bandaged. Beside her was a silver-haired boy, reading a notebook I didn't recognize.

"Alaric!" I called. He looked at me before a teasing smirk appeared on his face. Closing his book, he got up and walked closer to me.

"Well, well, dear sister. Have you finally decided to share your secrets with your amazing brother?" he sarcastically said. I didn't even reprimand him for using legilimency on me. Deep down, I had broken his trust, and it would take some time to rebuild it.

"Flamel..." I said, between breathless pants. I really shouldn't skip my morning training.

Hearing the name, his ears perked up, a thoughtful expression on his face, "You don't say..."

__________

[Alaric's Pov]

Nicholas Flamel. The only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with incredible powers.

Having studied alchemy before coming to Hogwarts, and constantly practicing it in the workshop of my suitcase, the alchemist's name was something I would often come across.

I looked at my sister, removing the mental probe from her mind. It was fun watching her squirm, thinking I was upset with her.

"Who's that?" asked the bandaged girl behind me, who had instinctively used Occlumency when she watched Lysandra and her friend entering the wing.

"Nicholas Flamel is a fam -"

"She doesn't need to know," interrupted Hope. She looked at Daphne, her eyebrows furrowed in distaste. "Daphne,"

"Hope,"

Daphne was giving her the usual blank expression, but her eyes showed some contempt. The girls stared at each other for a while, with me and my sister looking at them with interest.

Lysandra turned to me, with an apologetic look, "Alaric... I'm sorry for -"

"I'm not upset with you," I said directly, "Just a bit disappointed. I expected my sister to have more trust in me. I know you're worried I would do something dangerous, but I wanted you to have some faith in me,"

My sister choked on her words, her eyes watering, tears forming in them. I chuckled at her reaction. In the end, all she cared about was my safety. She took a lot after Mother, even replacing her role when the latter wasn't present.

I patted her head, much to her surprise. She must have thought I was going to cut ties with her. She tends to overthink a lot.

"Lys..." I said, "I understand that this is your way to show that you care about me... But I hope that from now on, you will trust me with this type of stuff,"

My sister quickly embraced me in a hug, softly crying on my shoulder. I caressed her back, before looking at the other two girls. Both were looking away from each other, slightly pouting.

"Do you know each other?" I asked, curious about their relationship.

""Unfortunately,"" They said at the same time, before staring angrily again at one another.

'Cute' I thought, looking at their expressions. They obviously had some past, but not like I cared.

"In any case," said Hope, turning to me and my sister, "You're gonna tell me what you know about this Nicholas Flamel?"

My sister sighed, before turning to look at me. I nodded, telling her to continue.

"Have you ever heard of... the Philosopher's Stone?"

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A/N: Ancient? It doesn't take that much to figure out what it is...

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!