Chapter 21: Participation in Group Activities
"I'm so stupid, really..."
Melvin sighed as he looked at the sealed stone door. "I only knew that there were many secret passages in Hogwarts Castle, one of which led to the basement of Honeydukes. I didn't know it needed a password to open."
Half an hour earlier, he'd had the idea to enter the tunnel from the candy shop's basement. He'd made it through the narrow, damp tunnel only to get stuck at the end.
The dark passage was cold and humid, and a massive stone door blocked his path.
Melvin tapped it with his wand, trying to decipher the mechanism, then attempted several unlocking and blasting charms. His technique was professional and precise clearly well-studied.
The stone door didn't budge.
"Lightning or blasting spells might work, but how would I explain that to the Headmaster afterward...?"
Melvin sank into deep thought.
His pondering led nowhere.
He sheathed his wand and was about to turn back when he heard movement on the other side of the stone door.
He listened closely to the slow, steady footsteps and cautiously called out, "Headmaster Dumbledore?"
"It's Melvin…"
He tapped the door twice with his wand. From the other side came a voice: "Split left and right!" The door rumbled open, revealing Dumbledore.
"Headmaster, thank Merlin you're out here," Melvin said, relieved. He stepped out of the secret passage and looked back. The entrance was hidden behind the hunched back of the one-eyed witch statue.
"It was my first time using this tunnel, and I didn't know the password. I nearly got trapped. If I hadn't considered the damage vandalism might cause, I'd have used an Exploding Curse to blow the door open."
"I don't think you would've," Dumbledore said kindly.
"Or perhaps Transfiguration, or a Disintegration Charm they make less noise." Melvin chuckled. "Lesson learned on my first weekend at Hogwarts: a cautious wizard shouldn't go wandering into unknown secret passages."
"You found that hidden tunnel after only a week? I'm curious how."
"It was pure chance, just coincidence," Melvin replied, avoiding details.
"Really now...?"
Dumbledore paused and winked. "Let's keep this between us. The castle's secrets are meant to be discovered by students themselves."
"I promise," Melvin said solemnly, then asked, "What brings you here, Headmaster?"
"There's a guest staying in the fourth-floor corridor. It's nearly time for his meal, so I came to deliver it. I heard a noise and thought perhaps another student had found this tunnel to sneak into Honeydukes for sweets. Turns out it was you. Come along, let's go visit our friend."
Melvin followed him, a vague suspicion in his mind.
Most rooms on the fourth floor were abandoned; only three areas were in use. The Charms classroom was in the opposite direction, the Trophy Room far away, leaving only the Forbidden Corridor.
From distant memories, Melvin recalled that the room at the end of that corridor led to a secret area the hiding place of the Philosopher's Stone. The entrance was guarded by a three-headed dog, and the interior protected by several key professors. The defenses, however, were not as sturdy as the stone door of the one-eyed witch.
Click...
The doorknob turned, and the old lock creaked open.
A massive creature stirred within a three-headed dog with six scarlet eyes, three gaping maws, and yellowed, bloodstained fangs.
The beast's eyes rolled, then fixed on the two intruders. Just as it was about to roar, Dumbledore interrupted gently, "Fluffy, dinner time."
Fluffy recognized his keeper instantly. His eyes brightened as he bounded forward, claws scraping the stone, and barreled into Dumbledore's arms. All three heads competed for affection, producing a series of dull thuds as flesh met bone.
Melvin's eye twitched. With a constitution like that, if not for Voldemort, this old man could live a few centuries more.
Dumbledore nearly stumbled, rubbing his sore chest, smiling fondly despite being drenched in drool. "Hagrid bought Fluffy at the Hog's Head Inn. We meant to keep him in the Forbidden Forest, but the centaurs disagreed…"
He pulled half a raw beef leg from somewhere and tossed it to the dog. "So, for now, he's stationed here for guard duty. He's been quite diligent. I rather like the little fellow."
"...Little fellow?"
Melvin stayed silent. If you say so.
"Come meet him." Dumbledore gestured. "Fluffy, this is Professor Lewynter."
Still chewing his beef, Fluffy paused, stretched one head toward Melvin to sniff, then raised a paw and offered it.
"Woof!"
Startled, Melvin took the paw. "Uh hello?"
Fluffy shook it politely as if greeting an equal.
Who said the three-headed dog was dumb? He's brilliant.
Dumbledore patted the central head. "Fluffy, move aside. Melvin and I need to go down."
Without looking up, Fluffy scooted aside, revealing a trapdoor beneath his belly.
"After you," Dumbledore said, pulling Melvin along before he could react.
They plunged downward. The fall was long deeper than Melvin had imagined Hogwarts' foundations went.
There were no torches, no lanterns only darkness.
The passage was eerily silent, broken by faint rustling noises, as if something small was creeping nearby.
After about ten seconds, Melvin suddenly felt a soft force slowing their descent, and his feet touched cold, solid ground.
Looking around, he saw a single narrow tunnel carved from stone. Tender black vines clung to the rough walls, their tendrils inching closer toward the intruders with faint scraping sounds.
A young Devil's Snare a magical vine species that thrived in darkness and damp, sensitive to light and warmth.
"I didn't know there was a Herbology classroom beneath the castle."
Melvin waved his hand, summoning several gentle blue flames warm enough to drive back the vines, not enough to burn.
"Pomona didn't want to teach down here," Dumbledore explained. "These Devil's Snares were just transplanted. They'll take weeks to mature."
He led the way deeper. "This was once an abandoned underground classroom. We discovered it connected to the fourth-floor corridor and repurposed it temporarily to guard the Philosopher's Stone. The setup is still incomplete."
"The Philosopher's Stone?"
"Yes. Over the summer, Nicolas and I met privately in New York to discuss the matter," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing. "For reasons not yet public, the Stone must be stored here for now. I've also received word that a powerful and cunning dark wizard intends to steal it."
"Protective measures, then?"
"They were designed by several core professors," Dumbledore said as they descended further.
Four chambers lay ahead.
The Charms Room, built by Professor Flitwick sealed only by a heavy wooden door.
The Transfiguration Room, designed by Professor McGonagall supported by several stone pillars.
The Potions Room, prepared by Professor Snape already stocked with bottles of poison.
Finally, the Defense Against the Dark Arts chamber, Quirrell's, filled with heaps of hay.
Compared to those unfinished defenses, Professor Sprout's section was far ahead.
Melvin eyed the final wooden door. He knew these trials were meant for students but still found the headmaster's "security system" laughably crude.
The four Heads of House were all pure and trustworthy. Their chambers were placed toward the periphery. Quirrell, recently promoted and just back from Albania where dark wizards gathered was less reliable. His room was last.
"So this is how we test the Dark Lord, huh?"
"Headmaster," Melvin sighed, "this so-called powerful, cunning dark wizard does he have any physical defects? Missing limbs, perhaps? Can't hold a wand? Or maybe he's mute and can't cast spells?"
Thinking of Voldemort's condition… that didn't seem entirely wrong.
Dumbledore chuckled. "That's why I'd like you to assist strengthen the Stone's protections."
Melvin glanced around. "Might I suggest putting a sign next to it reading: 'This is not the Philosopher's Stone.' Maybe the dark wizard will just leave."
"What an unexpected idea," Dumbledore said warmly. "If you design it, it might actually work… Would you like to see the legendary Stone for yourself?"
"May I?" Melvin asked, intrigued.
"Of course."
They pushed open the final door and stepped inside.
A circular corridor surrounded a shallow pond. In its center, upon a simple stone dais, glowed a faint crimson halo the Philosopher's Stone.
Melvin studied it for a moment, then looked away. "Looks rather ordinary."
"Indeed, nothing special," Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.
"The metallic sodium isn't necessary…"
"We can make the explosion ourselves."
"Right."
"But the ammonia's important."
Two red-haired students whispered as they descended the stairs.
Though autumn hadn't officially arrived, dusk fell early, and the castle's torches had yet to be lit.
Students gathered in small groups across the courtyard, chatting and laughing, savoring the calm of late summer.
A Hufflepuff boy poured chilled pumpkin juice for his friends, listening to plans of splashing around with the giant squid before October's chill froze the lake.
The Weasley twins sat on a step, scribbling in their notebooks, worrying about how to obtain metallic sodium and ammonia both Muggle materials unavailable to most wizarding students.
If they waited until winter break, it'd be too late. If their mother found out and broke their brooms, that'd be the least of their problems their father worked in the Office for the Prohibition of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Discovery could mean serious trouble.
Just as they fretted, a familiar figure appeared at the top of the stairs.
The twins brightened immediately. "Professor Lewyn!"
"How can I help you?" Melvin slowed his pace.
The twins hurried over, smiling. "Professor, in Muggle Studies do you teach chemistry? Will there be materials provided?"
"Well…" Melvin hesitated. "In sixth year, there's a basic science section. I'll use some materials for demonstrations, but definitely not metallic sodium or ammonia. One's dangerous, and the other reeks you'd never wash the smell off."
George and Fred exchanged excited looks.
"I'd advise you two to give up that idea. If you make a mess, Mr. Filch will have you cleaning it up yourselves and Professor McGonagall won't save you."
"Are you underestimating us?"
The twins puffed out their chests. "We've cleaned bathrooms and handled real dung this doesn't scare us!"
"…That's not exactly something to brag about."
George and Fred laughed and followed him eagerly. "Just cleaning, we're fine with that! Tell us more about chemistry!"
They trailed behind Melvin, chattering about explosive metal reactions and the smells of various reagents. When they heard that indole was responsible for the odor of feces, their eyes lit up and they burst into laughter.
A few minutes later, they crossed the courtyard and reached the Great Hall. It was unusually noisy that evening a crowd had gathered between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables.
George and Fred squinted. "Isn't that little Ronnie? And Harry? What happened?"
They rushed over, while Melvin sighed in relief no sign of Professor McGonagall.
Good. These two don't even take Muggle Studies. Whatever happens, the deputy headmistress can't blame me.
"Have you heard about the flying class this afternoon…?"
As Melvin walked past the faculty tables, fragments of student chatter reached his ears. He quickly pieced the story together.
In the second week of term, House teams were selecting Quidditch players, and first-years had just started flying lessons.
That afternoon had been their first broom flight and, predictably, Gryffindor and Slytherin were paired together.
An accident followed.
Potter and Malfoy clashed, leading to an impromptu midair duel.
The match ended unresolved because Malfoy had been too badly injured to continue:
three broken ribs, one dislocated arm, and a shattered leg.
(End of Chapter)