Hagrid leaned back in his chair and said, "Well, when I was your age, I was a student at this school too. One day, I found a book hidden away in the Restricted Section of the library. In it, I read that the greatest wizard of all time—Merlin, the so-called Prince of Enchanters—was also capable of performing magic without a wand."
Hermione blinked in surprise. "Huh? But I've read in books that Merlin carried a wand made from the oak tree of King Arthur's era."
Hagrid nodded. "That's true. But Merlin used the wand only as a disguise. Just like Albert is doing now—he didn't want people to know he could do wandless magic."
Ron looked puzzled. "But how did anyone find out he could do it?"
Hagrid replied, "He wrote about it himself. It's all in his famous book, Merlin, Prince of Enchanters. It details everything about his life."
Harry's eyes lit up. "Oh! Then Merlin must have been in Gryffindor, right, Hagrid?"
Hagrid scratched his beard. "Actually, no. You'll be surprised to know—he was in Slytherin. Back in his day, he was taught by none other than Salazar Slytherin himself, one of the school's four founders."
The three of them sat in stunned silence. The idea that the legendary Merlin—a role model for so many—belonged to Slytherin was difficult to digest. But Albert already knew this.
Harry quickly changed the subject. "Alright, let's not dwell on that. We came here to talk to you about Snape."
"Snape?" Hagrid's bushy eyebrows shot up. "What's he done this time?"
Harry leaned forward. "I saw Snape limping upstairs last night. His leg was injured—three deep gashes, like something clawed him. I think he went up to the third floor. You know... where the three-headed dog is. That dog is guarding something, and Snape tried to steal it. I'm sure of it!"
Hagrid slammed the teapot down a little too forcefully.
"Rubbish," he said firmly. "Why would Professor Snape do a thing like that? And anyway—how do you even know about Fluffy?"
"Fluffy?" they all echoed.
"Yes, he's mine. Bought him off a Greek bloke I met in the pub last year. Lent him to Dumbledore to help guard—"
"What?" Harry cut in eagerly.
"That's enough! Don't ask any more questions," Hagrid said sharply. "It's a secret between Dumbledore and me. Got it?"
"But someone is definitely trying to steal whatever that dog is guarding," Harry pressed.
"Enough of that nonsense!" Hagrid barked. "Snape and Quirrell are both Hogwarts professors—they'd never do something like that."
"Then why would Quirrell try to kill Harry?" Ron asked bluntly.
Hagrid growled, "Could've been a coincidence! You lot are imagining things!"
He jabbed a thick finger at them. "Listen here—there's no way any teacher Dumbledore trusts would try to harm a student. Now drop it."
Albert narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying Harry's broom acting up was just... a coincidence?"
"Yes!" Hagrid insisted.
Albert pressed on. "But I saw magic swirling around Harry. And Hermione and Ron both saw Quirrell and Snape chanting spells and watching Harry. We already figured out that Quirrell is the one who tried to curse him. Now we just want to understand why Snape was heading to the third floor."
Perhaps it was the pressure of the moment—or maybe just Hagrid's poor ability to keep secrets—but he blurted out:
"It's dangerous, alright? Forget about the dog and what he's guarding. It's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."
"Aha!" Harry exclaimed. "So there is someone named Nicolas Flamel involved!"
Horrified at what he'd just revealed, Hagrid quickly ushered them out of his hut.
Later that day, after Harry and Albert had endured a flood of well-wishers congratulating them on the Quidditch win, they returned to the common room. They spotted Hermione and Ron huddled in a corner, talking quietly with a few other students.
As Harry approached, Ron turned and said, "I'm telling you, Snape's the one behind all of this. Both he and Quirrell are suspects in my book."
After listening to Ron's theory, Harry turned to Albert and Hermione. "I feel kind of bad now. I mean... maybe I misjudged Snape. But I can tell he hates me—and you too, Albert."
Albert kept his thoughts to himself, quietly sighing in his mind.
Hermione interrupted the tension. "Look, it doesn't matter who's trying to steal it—not yet, anyway. We learned a lot from Hagrid today."
She ticked the points off on her fingers. "First, the three-headed dog is named Fluffy, and he belongs to Hagrid. Second, Dumbledore borrowed him to guard something, and that something is connected to Nicolas Flamel."
Albert added, "And remember that giant troll from before? He was carrying a weapon—a club. According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, some trolls can be trained as guards. That troll might've been used to protect something important that day. If he were just a classroom aid for Defense Against the Dark Arts, he wouldn't need a weapon."
"So you're saying there's a large space under the trapdoor Fluffy's guarding?" Hermione asked.
"Exactly," Albert nodded.
Harry cut in, steering them back on track. "Right, so what we really need to find out now is: who is Nicolas Flamel?"
"No idea," Ron said.
"Never heard of him," Hermione admitted.
"Wait," Albert said slowly. "I think my father mentioned him once..."
The other three turned to him immediately. Ron asked first, "Really? How?"
Albert explained, "My father told me that Nicolas Flamel is a very famous alchemist—he was born over 700 years ago and still lives in France."
The group gasped.
"Did you say seven hundred years?!" Ron exclaimed. "That's impossible!"
Hermione's eyes widened. "If what you're saying is true, Albert, then whatever's hidden behind that trapdoor might be the key to Flamel's longevity."
Albert thought silently to himself, How does this girl keep surprising me? I gave her just a few pieces of information and she figured it out immediately.
"So, what do we do now?" Ron asked.
Albert paused. "Well, I think the best course of action is to wait until Christmas break. I'll check my family's library at home—there might be more information about Flamel there."
Hermione, noticing the conversation was winding down, stepped forward. "In the meantime, we should use our free time to investigate. Remember, Hagrid said this matter is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. That's all we need to know—Dumbledore knows him. So let's start by looking into people connected to the Headmaster."
Harry nodded. "Good idea. And anyway, Albert and I won't have any more Quidditch matches until after Christmas. We'll use the time to visit the library—and when Albert gets back, we'll hopefully have more leads."
As everyone stood up to leave, Albert turned to them with a grin. "Alright, today was our first Quidditch victory—it's mine and Harry's first ever. And," he added with a glance at the noisy common room, "right now, we've got something else to do."
"What's that?" Ron asked.
Albert raised his hands and smiled. "It's time to celebrate."
--