The three of them dashed back into the castle and found Professor McGonagall in her office.
"Professor McGonagall! We need to see Professor Dumbledore, it's urgent!" Harry blurted out before they'd even caught their breath.
"He is not at the school at the mont," McGonagall replied briskly. "Professor Dumbledore received an ergency summons from the Ministry of Magic and has gone there."
Fudge: I swear it wasn't , don't put words in my mouth!
Arthur, who knew Dumbledore's nature all too well, would never have believed that the old fox was completely unaware of what was happening in the castle. More likely, Dumbledore was deliberately absent—turning the "Stone incident" into a sort of end-of-term dungeon crawl for Harry. A little ga, to "relax" the boy after exams.
Unfortunately, Arthur wasn't here to watch the show.
"He's gone? But this is really important—it's about the Philosopher's Stone!" Harry exclaid.
McGonagall's voice dropped to a low whisper. "And how exactly do you three know about that?"
"Soone's trying to steal it," Harry said, avoiding nas this ti. He'd learned his lesson—no one believed it was Snape anyway.
"I don't know how you learned of this, but I assure you the Stone is safe. Now, back to your dormitories—and keep your voices down."
Inside, McGonagall was exasperated. For rlin's sake, I'm whispering, and this boy just gets louder every sentence. Do you want the entire castle to hear?
Good thing exams were over and most students were outside, or by nightfall every house would know: The Stone is here at Hogwarts and soone's trying to steal it.
The stern dismissal dampened their spirits. The three walked out looking dejected.
Arthur (if he'd been there): Honestly, do you expect anyone to just take your word without explaining your reasoning? Give them the logic, not just the conclusion!
Out in the corridor, Harry started plotting again—this ti lowering his voice.
"It wasn't a stranger who t Hagrid. It must've been Snape."
Hermione didn't argue, but she'd already noticed a sweep of black robes from the corner of her eye.
"And now that Dumbledore's gone… are we just going to let him succeed?" Ron said, just as a cold voice cut through the hall behind them.
"Good afternoon."
Snape had been trailing them silently, and he'd heard Harry shouting his na loud and clear. His sudden appearance nearly made Ron jump out of his skin.
"Such fine weather. Tell , young Gryffindors—why hide indoors plotting, when you could be outside enjoying the sunshine?" Snape's words dripped with suspicion.
The two boys froze, speechless.
"We were just… deciding where to go," Hermione said quickly, trying to cover.
Snape's eyes flicked over her. As if. Everyone knows you and Arthur are inseparable. But he didn't press it further. Instead, he turned his venom on Harry.
"Careful. People might think you're up to sothing."
With a final glare, he swept away.
Shaken by the encounter, Harry finally rembered to keep his scheming quiet.
"So, what do we do now?" Ron asked.
"Maybe we should ask my cousin for advice," Hermione suggested.
Harry agreed. Arthur was terrifyingly capable—having him along would be invaluable.
But after searching every corner of Hogwarts, they still couldn't find him. Hermione even checked the Room of Requirent. At last, she guessed he must be in his Zen Garden conducting alchemy experints. She didn't ntion the garden itself to the boys—just said he was probably holed up sowhere working.
"Looks like it's just us, then," Harry said grimly after thinking it over. He raised his head, eyes shining with reckless determination. "We go through the trapdoor. Tonight."
"…And then what?" Hermione muttered, utterly baffled by his non-plan. So you get past the door. Then what? Hagrid already said there are multiple challenges. You're just going to charge in blind?
Resigned, Hermione sighed and went back to her dormitory to prepare.
She pulled a trunk from under her bed. Inside were all sorts of Arthur's discarded alchemical creations—things he'd tinkered together, found unworthy for himself, and tossed to Hermione as "toys."
Among them, however, were so true treasures.
First, she donned a dragonhide cuirass, tailored as an undershirt. The hide, harvested from the Lands Between, cut magical damage by half thanks to dragonhide's innate resistance. In the chest was set a Life Stone. If the wearer was wounded, the stone would circulate life force to heal. If struck by a Killing Curse, it would shatter itself to negate the spell once.
On her wrist, a new protective bracelet—Arthur's upgraded version of Protego. It generated a full spherical shield with partial curse reflection. The power source? A Philosopher's Stone fragnt. Its energy density was absurd; Nicolas Flal's Stone had lasted over 600 years.
Around her neck hung the Blue Amber Talisman 2, a Christmas gift from Arthur.
Her pockets bulged with second-generation magic grenades in one pouch, and mana potions in the other—each restoring half her magic with a single swig.
But her favorites weren't these. It was Arthur's proudest invention: the Featherlight Beads.
Tiny glass marbles, each encasing a delicate feather. Activating one halved her body weight and doubled her speed for five minutes.
Weight reduction plus speed boost—the synergy wasn't linear, it was exponential. Arthur had designed them specifically for fighting airborne monsters in the Lands Between. Even if he couldn't fly, with these, he could bring a flying foe down before it took off.
The only weakness in his otherwise unstoppable campaign had been his inability to fly. The beads were his answer—until he rembered brooms existed in the wizarding world. After that, he handed a batch to Hermione.
Now, she was ard to the teeth.
A fully kitted Hermione could hold her own against careless adult wizards—and maybe even win.
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