Harry Potter: The Blogger of Hogwarts

I'm back in the house and blogging up a storm once more! All the thanks to Hermione for telling you all about the events of Halloween night. For the record, I was not distraught by the events of Halloween. I was just concussed and appeared to be distraught. I have a reputation to maintain!

Look, I'm not going to lie to you and pretend Halloween wasn't a total surprise. More than that, it was disturbing how it came completely out of left field. I was so focused on O'Neill being evil that I didn't even consider the possibility of more professors being evil! Professor Sinistra says she banished Voldemort to the infinite void of space. He's not dead, but he's in a distant galaxy, floating through the void, and the chances of him ever reaching a planet within any of our lifetimes are near nonexistent, let alone finding a way to return here.

Fortunately, with Voldemort dealt with, I can focus on the sole remaining threat, O'Neill. I'm now convinced more than ever that O'Neill intends to steal the Philosopher's Stone. (And, yes, I know quite well what it is. I do pay attention in Professor Binns' class after all. Sometimes I pretend to be flightier than I really am to make people underestimate me – and to hide my genuine moments of flight.)

"And that's why we need to steal the Philosopher's Stone before O'Neill can get to it!" I finished explaining to my friends in the middle of the Slytherin common room. Unfortunately, I neglected to realize my impassioned speech had attracted an audience.

"Is he like this all the time?" Daphne Greengrass demanded.

Ron sighed. "Yes. Yes, he is."

"If like this, you mean awesome, then yes, yes, I am!" I said and made finger guns at her.

"I was never here," Daphne decided and hid behind a curtain.

Everyone else seemed to follow her example and pretend we didn't exist. I was just glad Malfoy wasn't there. It would have been awkward if we'd had to kick his arse again. Fortunately, Malfoy had been quiet lately. Though instead of looking at Hermione like she was dirt under his shoe, he was now looking at her like she strangled puppies in her spare time. I knew that look very well. Most of my neighbors look at me like that. Thanks, Aunt Petunia.

"Look, we're not going to keep the stone," I said placatingly and honestly. I really have no interest in the Philosopher's Stone. Any magic that powerful has to come with an equal price and I do not want to pay it, thank you very much! The damn thing probably gives the Midas touch and doesn't halt aging. "We're just going to send it back to its rightful owner. If he wants to send it back to Dumbledore, knowing that his security was bad enough that three children could get to it, then if O'Neill gets to it later, Flamel deserved to have it stolen."

"It is sort of hard to argue with logic like that," Hermione muttered. She was on the fence and just looking for the right excuse to shove herself over it. She wanted to be persuaded. I could tell.

"Look, what happens if O'Neill gets his hands on it?" I pointed out. "Who is he? What does he want? I don't know. All I know is that he was suspiciously eager to hide when Voldemort was out there shooting spells at people. What if he's a…what was it you called them, Ron? A Death Eater. And remember what Ms. Cheatham said!"

I figured having a barrister like Cheatham on my side would be useful, so I reached out to her and asked her to have her firm's investigators look into O'Neill. And sure enough, they can't find any record of him. The American magical college he supposedly got his potions degree in? No records. The Irish magical government? No records. The International Potions Guild? You guessed it. No records. When I told this to Hermione and Ron, they finally started to believe me.

"I suppose you have a point," Hermione said. "With how…erratic Professor Dumbledore has been, it wouldn't surprise me if he let another Death Eater into the school."

Ron, for some strange reason, actually looked like he thought this was a bad idea. "You really think we could pull it off? Just us…three first years?"

"Anything is possible," I said firmly. "People thought it was impossible for a Potter, a Weasley, and a Muggleborn to be in Slytherin and here we are, right? Look, we're just borrowing the thing. It'll be fine!"

It did not turn out to be all that fine. Our first reconnaissance mission to the forbidden corridor came to a sudden halt when we discovered that Dumbledore had a bloody Cerberus guarding what Hermione said was a trapdoor. What sort of a maniac would keep a humungous, three-headed guard dog in a school full of children? The sort of maniac who definitely didn't deserve to even be borrowing the Philosopher's Stone, that's who! But I don't give up. Ever. We were going to get that stone and we were going to outwit Dumbledore and O'Neill.

According to Hermione's research, Cerberuses tended to fall asleep when music was played, as in the story of Orpheus. I have to admit, I've never been particularly interested in mythology before. I'm a history buff. But maybe I should start paying more attention to those things. Besides, I'm in a magical world now. For all I know, Odysseus and Arkantos and all those other people were real, along with the gods and whatnot.

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