The Sorcerer's Stone Year 1 (Tokyo Ghoul And Harry Potter Crossover)

13: Nicholas Flamel

Dumbledore had to convince me and Harry not to go looking for the Mirror again and for the rest of the holidays, the Cloak stayed folded at the bottom of my trunk. I wish I could forget what I saw in the mirror, but I couldn't. I started having nightmares, over and over again I dreamed about my siblings fighting and Ayato would kill Touka before disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter. "Maybe it's just homesickness. Or the fact that after months of insomnia you sleeping again mad bad dreams, appear? Don't give me that face, I have no clue!" She said when I told her about the dreams, she still doesn't know about the Mirror and I don't plan on telling her. I did tell Maki though, he came back 3 days before term started. He took a different view of things. He was torn between horror at the idea of me being out of bed, roaming the school 3 nights in a row and disappointment that I hadn't at least found out who Nicholas Flamel was.

We had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though I was still sure I read the name somewhere. Once term had started, we were back to skimming through books for 10 minutes during breaks. I had even less time than the other two because Quidditch practice had started again. Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys and I complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but if we won our next match, against Hufflepuff, we would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in 7 years. I also found out that I have fewer nightmares when I don't sleep or was tired out after training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He got very angry with me and the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off our brooms. "Will you stop messing around!" He yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!" Maybe not since I'm on the team...ok maybe he will. George Weasley really did fall off his broom at the words. "Snape's refereeing?!" He spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin." The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too. "It's not my fault. We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us." Said Wood.

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but I headed straight back to my room, where I found Emi and Hermione playing chess on Emi's bed. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at. "Don't talk to me for a moment. I need to concen-" she caught sight of my face, "What's the matter with you? You look terrible." I grabbed Bokuto and stroked his feathers as I told the other two about my Father's sudden desire to be a Quidditch referee. "Don't play." Hermione said at once. "Say you're ill." Said Emi. "Pretend to break your leg." "Really break your leg! Or I can re-break your shoulder blade." I stared at her in shock, "No, I can't. There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all." I perked up at the sound of loud laughing downstairs so we ran into the common room to see Neville squirming on the floor with his legs locked together. He must have bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione leaped to action and perhaps the countercurse for the Leg-Locker Curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. "What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit next to the 5 of us. "Malfoy. I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on." He said shakily.

"Go to Professor McGonagall! Report him!" Hemione urged him but he shook his head. "I don't want more trouble." He mumbled. "You've got to stand up to him, Neville! He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier." Emi told him. "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that." Neville choked out.  I pulled out some of Mrs. Weasley's fudge and handed it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry. "You're worth 12 of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin." I wish he was in Gryffindor, maybe things would've been different. Neville gave him a small smile as he ate more fudge. "Thanks, everyone. I think I'll go to bed." He trailed off as he left.