Dawn Rivera

Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback

Quirrel, however, must be braver than we think. In the weeks that follow he does seem to getting paler and thinner, but it doesn't look as if he's cracked yet.

Everytime we pass the third-floor corridor, me, Harry, Ron and Hermione press our ears to the door to check that Fluffy is still growling inside. Snape is sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely means that the Stone is still safe. Whenever Harry passes Quirrel these days he gives him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron has started telling people off for making fun of Quirrel's stutter.

Me and Hermione, however, have more on our minds than the Philosopher's Stone. We start drawing up study schedules and colour-coding all our notes. We keep nagging Harry and Ron that they should do the same.

"Hermione, Dawn, the exams are ages away."

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

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminds us. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

I look at him in shock. "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..."

Unfortunately for Ron and Harry, the teachers seem to be thinking along the same lines as me and Hermione. We pile so much homework onto us that the Easter holidays aren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It seems that Harry and Ron are finding it hard to relax with Hermione and me reciting the twelve uses for dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spend most of their free time in the library with us, trying to get through all our extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron bursts out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It is the first really fine day we've had in months. The sky is a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there is a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who is looking up a word in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, doesn't look up until we hear Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffles into view, hiding something behind his back. He looks very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'" he says, in a shifty voice that gets our attention at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looks suddenly suspicious. "Yer still not lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," says Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St-"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looks around quickly to see if anyone is listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," says Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy-"

"SHHHH!" says Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yer anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," says Harry.

Hagrid shuffles off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" says Hermione thoughtfully. "Do you think it had anything to do with the stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," says Ron, who's obviously had enough of working. He comes back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slams them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispers. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno; A Dragon Keeper's Guide."