Harry Potter: Wizards Supersmacy

Chapter -12.

Brian was cozied up in a soft armchair by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, working on his history of magic homework. Daphne was sitting next to him, occasionally throwing a question his way.

The common room was pretty quiet since most of the others had headed out to enjoy the festivities. Malfoy had brought a big bundle of fireworks to get everyone pumped for the upcoming match, and many had gone outside to watch the show.

Daphne decided to stay in because she thought the weather was just too chilly.

"Hey, have you figured out a solution for that thing you mentioned earlier?" she asked, bringing it up herself.

"Not yet, but it's still early, so no need to stress about it," Brian replied softly, his eyes warm and clear.

"You've been acting a bit off lately..." Daphne kicked her feet and said quietly, "It's like you're wearing a mask, and I can't see through it anymore."

Brian paused, snapping out of his thoughts, and glanced at Daphne.

"That's much better," she said, her voice brightening.

Brian nodded thoughtfully. He realized he had been so focused on practicing mental occlusion that he felt like he was splitting into two—one part gentle and kind on the outside, while the other was coldly observing everything from within.

"Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Thanks for bringing it up," he said, surprised by how perceptive Daphne was.

"It's nothing. I don't really like this strange version of you either," Daphne said bluntly.

...

The Quidditch match rolled around as planned.

Brian sat quietly in the stands, a book in hand.

Professor Snape was sitting close by, his eyes vacant and indifferent as he watched the field, his expression giving away nothing about his interest in Quidditch.

Maybe he was just there to represent Slytherin; after all, as the head of the house, he couldn't skip out on such an event, Brian thought.

Even though he did pretty well in flying lessons, Brian just couldn't bring himself to enjoy Quidditch. He realized that being able to make a broomstick jump into your hands didn't really mean you had flying talent; it was more about being resolute and confident.

His flying had improved a lot, and he was almost on par with Malfoy now.

Of course, it was clear that Hermione wasn't great at flying; she flew like a novice driver on her first day behind the wheel.

But Quidditch, with all its quirks, felt a bit dull to him, like a child's game.

Maybe he just didn't have that kind of passion.

Sitting quietly in the noisy stands, flipping through "Theories of Spells," he felt a bit out of place in the lively atmosphere.

Next to him and Snape, the excitement seemed to have cooled down.

Malfoy couldn't handle the cold air and moved with Crabbe and Goyle to a different spot, where they cheered and hollered loudly.

Brian glanced at his textbook, occasionally looking up to see Harry Potter soaring through the sky, looking like a bird set free, gliding effortlessly.

His gaze dimmed a little as he got lost in thought.

After a while, he lowered his head again, feeling like everything happening around him was unrelated to him.

He just wondered if, after meeting Quirrell, Quirrell would still try to bring Harry down like in the original story.

The match continued, and Brian heard gasps from the crowd. He looked up and saw Harry tumbling awkwardly in the air, his broomstick acting like a wild horse, trying to throw him off.

Brian glanced at Quirrell, who was staring at Harry in shock, muttering to himself. But since he always looked a bit neurotic, it didn't raise much suspicion.

Then he looked at Snape, who was coldly watching Harry, also muttering incantations, trying to cast a counter-curse to save him. But that looked pretty suspicious too.

Brian quietly observed the scene, his face showing little emotion.

Things wrapped up quickly; he saw Hermione rushing over, knocking Professor Quirrell aside in her hurry, and noticed Quirrell's head hitting the back of the chair with a thud.

Hermione hid her wand under her robes and cast a spell at Snape before dashing off again.

It seemed that even though she had interfered a bit with the plot, Hermione still became good friends with Harry.

Looking back, Harry's broom had stabilized, and he dove towards the ground, catching the golden snitch in his mouth.

[Witness the Quidditch Match Incident, Witness Points +0.5]

Brian couldn't help but sigh; as expected in a story involving the savior, even the witness points were higher.

He closed the book with one hand and left the venue.

In the following month, nothing particularly exciting happened, and life at Hogwarts was pretty peaceful.

Before long, Christmas was just around the corner.

Brian's owl, Becca, delivered a letter from Hermione, filled with discussions about study questions.

In her letter, she mentioned she would be going home for Christmas and shared some funny stories from her Muggle experiences.

At the end of the letter, she brought up Nicolas Flamel and asked if he recognized the name.

"She must have known that name for a month now but only just decided to ask me… and it seems so casual," Brian thought, lowering his eyes. "Is she starting to be cautious of me? Is it because I let something slip?"

Instead of making wild guesses, Brian considered whether to tell her. But he quickly thought that letting them know about the Philosopher's Stone in advance wouldn't change the plot.

He unfolded a piece of parchment and wrote in neat, beautiful handwriting:

"Hermione, I'm so glad to get your letter! I think the anti-inflammatory potion should be prepared this way…"

"I plan to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, and I'm looking forward to a different kind of Christmas this year."

"Christmas at home always feels a bit too restrictive. You know, my mom is super meticulous; she even insists on having the wrinkles in her clothes perfectly symmetrical…"

"Of course, I wish you a happy Christmas too! I've saved an interesting gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."

"As for Mr. Nicolas Flamel, I happen to know a bit about him; he's a legendary figure."

"Nicolas Flamel is the greatest alchemist in the world today, and his most famous achievement is creating the Philosopher's Stone. He's also the sole owner of the only existing Philosopher's Stone. It can turn stone into gold and produce an elixir that grants immortality. It's said that Mr. Flamel is now over six hundred sixty years old."

"Oh, and Nicolas Flamel is a friend of Dumbledore."

"…"

Brian handed the letter to Becca and gently stroked her feathers.

Becca was a young tawny owl with fluffy brown feathers and was a great messenger.

Before the school year started, Brian had picked her out from his family's owlery.

The Walker Manor had its own owlery, home to many breeds of owls, usually fed by house-elves. According to Mr. Walker, he had so many friends that he needed a bunch of owls to act as messengers.

Becca gently pecked Brian's finger and took off.

Brian then pulled out his tools and started practicing potion brewing.

…

"Harry, I know who Nicolas Flamel is!" Hermione exclaimed, waving the letter in her hand.

"Who is it?" Harry asked eagerly.

Hermione looked at the letter, reread Flamel's story, and said, "Oh, how did I not think of that? It's clearly written in that book 'Hogwarts: A History'…"

"Who told you?" Ron tried to peek at the signature on Hermione's letter but she quickly covered it.

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Harry suddenly exclaimed, "It must be the Philosopher's Stone hidden under the trapdoor; Snape wants to use it for immortality!"

"Well, that doesn't necessarily mean it's Professor Snape, does it?" Hermione countered.

"Who exactly did you ask? You know this isn't something to share casually!" Ron insisted.

"I didn't let it slip, okay? I just asked Brian if he knew that name…" Hermione tugged at her hair.

"Brian Walker? Oh my gosh, Hermione, you must be crazy!" Harry held his forehead, feeling an inexplicable pain in his scar. "I told you he's suspicious! He might have deliberately led us to that corridor that night. Maybe he's also after the Philosopher's Stone!"

"You should have less contact with him; his family is not to be trifled with," Ron nodded in agreement.

"Alright, enough said. Actually, I've felt a bit uneasy about him lately too," Hermione said, ruffling her hair in frustration. "But I swear I was just discussing academic stuff with him and wouldn't reveal anything else."

"Did you find out he did something suspicious?" Harry stared at Hermione.

"No, it's just that he's a bit… strange. I don't know how to describe it…" Hermione pondered her words.

"Do you remember that day of the Quidditch match? Harry, you almost fell off! I rushed over and set Professor Snape's robes on fire, and Brian was sitting right next to him. That's when I saw his expression..."

"What was it like?" Harry and Ron perked up, listening intently.

"His expression was too calm," Hermione said, a bit irritated. "No surprise, no worry, no smugness, just nothing at all, as if he knew it would happen or simply didn't care... I can't quite describe that feeling."

"I told you, he must know about this! Maybe that's what he discussed with Snape!" Ron asserted, "And maybe he's actually Snape's accomplice, trying to help Snape get the Philosopher's Stone!"

"That does make sense," Harry agreed.

Hermione pressed her lips together, pouting a bit in annoyance.