The girl with golden hair (Harry Potter fanfic)

Chapter 1.13 (The Norwegian Ridgeback)

(Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback.)

Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened. -Anatole France

The Hogwarts castle
Scotland, Great Britain
April 10 1992

Professor Quirrell must have been braver than they thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet. Everytime they passed the third-floor corridor, Artemis, Ron, Harry and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check if Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe.

Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Artemis, however, still felt as though something wasn't right about the whole thing. She never once had the idea that Snape was the one behind it. Her father had always taught her that most mysteries were that way because they were not obvious enough to be solved. Snape was the perfect suspect and yet...she still didn't think it was him, even if all the evidence pointed at the black-haired man with the crooked nose and the mean sneer permanently sketched onto his face.

Because of this, and because she still suspected Quirrell to be the real culprit...despite what Remus said about him being too stupid to break into Gringotts, she paid closer attention to Quirrell than she would any other teacher. Her purple diary finally having a real purpose of holding all the information Artemis found on him.

During class, when she'd finished her work, instead of talking she studied Quirrell as he walked, talked or blinked and wrote it all down.

She noticed that one of Quirrell's cold, icey-blue eyes twitched often. It was a tic that he couldn't have been taught and wouldn't remember to keep doing as part of an act.

She also noticed that despite being reasonably young for a wizard, only 33 years of age, his face looked worn-out with worry. He was often sweating nervously and wiped his forehead with a white, embroidered handkerchief. Something he couldn't just fake either.

Professor Quirrell struck her as a bit of a naive man. His past at Hogwarts made him easily influencable and Artemis reckonened him to have a thirst for power, forcing people to give him the respect he never had.

And what better way of getting that respect by stealing the Philosopher's Stone and gaining immortality?

Artemis knew it might be a little far-fetched but her instincts were usually right and she didn't quit until she'd proven it.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Philosopher's Stone or the one stealing it. She had started drawing up study schedules and colour-coding all her notes. Harry and Ron wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks." Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicholas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old." Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you and Ara already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realise we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me."

"Oh please, Minnie. You can't even fail anymore." Artemis rolled her eyes.

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements.