Chapter 91: 91: Before Christmas

As Christmas approached, the tense atmosphere at Hogwarts finally began to ease. Even the bookish Slytherins set aside their studies to indulge in the joys of wizarding life for a change. Recently, Eve Stock's status within the Slytherin house had noticeably improved. Many of her housemates—particularly the half-bloods—had begun to accept her. After all, she had won the Quidditch match for Slytherin, and in spectacular fashion no less. Following that victory, Eve Stock became a rising star at Hogwarts. She was now a celebrity who couldn't walk through the halls without someone greeting her or trying to strike up a conversation. However, Gryffindor didn't share the enthusiasm. They felt Eve had gone too far in that match, treating it less like a game and more like outright humiliation. Slytherin, along with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, saw things differently. They believed that a match should be played with full effort—holding back wouldn't show Gryffindor any respect. This difference of opinion only fueled the already simmering rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Not that their relationship was particularly amicable to begin with. Speaking of Gryffindor, the other infamous figure from that match—the "Savior" who fell off his broom—was still recovering his dignity in their common room. Harry Potter and his best friend Ron Weasley firmly believed that someone had cursed his Nimbus 2000. Harry, they insisted, was an unfortunate victim and didn't deserve any blame. In fact, they argued, it was only because of Harry's efforts that Gryffindor hadn't lost by 400 points. This reasoning, however, didn't sit well with many of the Gryffindors. They couldn't quite see the difference between losing by 300 points and losing by 400. Even Ron himself struggled to articulate it, so he shifted his stance: "If the Chasers and Keeper hadn't played so badly, Harry could've led us to victory!" This perspective gained traction among the Gryffindors, redirecting the blame onto poor Oliver Wood and the three Chasers, who suddenly found themselves under heavy scrutiny. "Poor Gryffindor," Nolan Von Draugr remarked softly during dinner. "They're not as united as they like to think." Miles Bletchley, who had been trying to convince Nolan to try a piece of roast lamb, paused and asked, "Why do you think that's happening?" "It's simple," Nolan replied. "Collective pride is built on victories. Eve shattered their pride. Now, to salvage their sense of honor and belief in Gryffindor, they need a scapegoat. Only by identifying a weak link can they justify their loss and preserve their image." "Did I go too hard on them?" Eve, seated beside Nolan, asked hesitantly. "You did nothing wrong." Nolan ruffled her hair affectionately. "The fault lies with those who lack the strength to compete. True unity only forms through adversity. In a way, you might've done them a favor." "Is that really how you see it?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind. Turning, they found Hermione Granger standing there, looking uncertain. She hesitated, glancing between Nolan and Eve. "Um, Eve, congratulations on your win... though it feels strange to say that as a Gryffindor." Eve waved off the awkwardness. "Don't worry about it." Hermione hesitated again before asking, "Eve, would it be alright if I talked to Nolan? I haven't properly thanked him for what he did during Halloween." "Why are you asking me?" Eve replied, puzzled, though she quickly realized why. To many, she probably appeared to be Nolan's girlfriend. After dinner, Nolan, Eve, and Hermione stepped out of the castle, taking a slow walk along the lakeshore. The winter chill had transformed the Black Lake. Its surface was covered in a thick layer of ice, hard as iron. Frost coated the grass along the shoreline, turning it pale and brittle. Each step they took crunched delightfully beneath their feet. After a while, Nolan broke the silence. "So, what did you want to say?" Hermione, her front teeth catching the light in an endearing way, seemed uncharacteristically shy. She fiddled with the hem of her robes and spoke in a quiet voice. "Oh... Nolan, I just wanted to thank you for what you did that night. I already thanked Eve, but I never got the chance to thank you. If it weren't for you, I might not even be alive right now." Nolan regarded Hermione with mild interest, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he replied in a flat tone, "There's no need to thank me. I was only focused on saving Eve. You just happened to be there." "But you took a hit for me!" Hermione protested, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Because you were standing in front of Eve. The troll would've crushed both of you into pulp—oh, and Potter too." Nolan's voice was cold and unfeeling, completely ignoring the flicker of disappointment in Hermione's eyes. Waving her off impatiently, he added, "Enough about this. If you're really grateful, you can get Eve a couple of books for Christmas. She's been into reading lately. Now, come on, Eve." Without waiting for a response, Nolan took Eve's hand, intending to leave. "Wait! Nolan!" Hermione called out hurriedly, her voice trembling slightly. "I wanted to ask you about something... about the thing in Gringotts..." "The thing in Gringotts?" Nolan stopped in his tracks and turned back to her, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. "How do you know about that?" Then realization dawned. "Let me guess. Harry Potter put you up to this?" "Well... kind of," Hermione admitted awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. She felt guilty but remembered Harry's insistence that it was a matter of great importance. "This isn't something you should be meddling with," Nolan replied sharply, his tone dropping several degrees. He had already warned Harry to stay out of it. The matter involved dangerous forces—possibly even Voldemort himself, who was after the Philosopher's Stone. Why was the so-called Savior of the Wizarding World so eager to thrust himself into peril? Hermione pleaded, "Please, Nolan, it's really important. We know about Snape's plot—" "Snape's plot?" Nolan's brow furrowed in confusion. "You remember the Quidditch match, don't you?" Hermione said, her words spilling out rapidly. "Harry swears he saw Snape's leg—it was bitten! And he overheard that it was the three-headed dog that bit him! Dumbledore must've hidden whatever was in Gringotts under that dog, and Snape's trying to steal it. That's why he got bitten!" "You suspect Professor Snape?" Nolan asked, narrowing his eyes. It wasn't that Nolan trusted Snape—in truth, he trusted no one at Hogwarts except for Eve. Even his supposed ally, Dumbledore, remained a figure of suspicion in Nolan's eyes. "Yes, we do! Please, Nolan, help us. At least tell us who Nicolas Flamel is. I'm sure you know." "Nicolas Flamel..." Nolan sighed and gave Eve's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Let me guess—Hagrid let that slip, didn't he? The big guy's never been good at keeping secrets." Eve nodded, her gaze drifting to Hermione with a puzzled expression. "A lot of people know who Nicolas Flamel is, Hermione. I think you do too. If you calm down and think carefully, you won't need Nolan to tell you." Hermione frowned, unsure. "What do you mean?" Eve's tone was patient yet firm. "Sometimes the space beneath the lamp is the darkest. You're overthinking it. Try looking at things from a different perspective."