"I swear, Hagrid definitely knows something."
Harry said this with conviction as they left Hagrid's hut.
After John put down the dog food, he left with the trio. Hermione and Ron also felt that Hagrid was hiding something.
Their only clue now was Nicolas Flamel.
Harry, determined to uncover Snape's true intentions, said, "That name sounds familiar, but I can't remember it."
He had a feeling he had seen the name somewhere, but it just wouldn't come to mind.
The small package Hagrid took from Gringotts was obviously Snape's target, and that item was related to Nicolas Flamel.
"John, have you heard of this name?" Harry placed his hope on John, who was even smarter than Hermione.
John thought for a moment, then shook his head apologetically, "Sorry, I don't remember either. You can check the library. If it's not there, then this person probably doesn't exist."
This was a good idea, and Harry's eyes lit up.
Hermione had also thought about suggesting the library, so she urged, "Let's go quickly. It's best if we can find out before Christmas."
She and Ron were planning to go home for Christmas, and there were still more than twenty days left. Hopefully, they could find the answer by then.
Hearing about Christmas, Harry's eyes dimmed a little.
He didn't want to go back to the Dursleys, where he would be confined to a cramped cupboard under the stairs, with Dudley always trying to bully him.
Seeing Hermione and Ron discussing their Christmas plans, Harry said enviously, "I don't want to go back. It's too awful there."
Ron and Hermione expressed their sympathy, finding it hard to imagine having such terrible relatives.
"John, are you going home for Christmas too?" Hermione knew that John also came from a Muggle family.
John didn't plan to go back. Shaking his head, he said, "No, I plan to use the Christmas break to solidify my knowledge. I can't use magic at home."
This diligent attitude made Harry and Ron shiver, and even Hermione felt she couldn't lose to him. But if she didn't go home, her parents would worry about what happened to their good daughter at school.
The four of them separated on the fifth floor, as John didn't plan to go to the library.
Although the name Nicolas Flamel felt familiar, his immediate priority was to improve his Occlumency.
Upon reaching the eighth floor, he found the Room of Requirement.
After completing a day's training inside, it was already dark when he emerged.
He intended to head to the kitchen to see if he could get some dinner.
On the way, he encountered someone he didn't want to meet.
"Good evening, Professor Quirrell," he greeted, his left hand quietly reaching for his wand as he started practicing Occlumency.
Voldemort, after witnessing John's power in defeating the troll, had decided to recruit John as a Death Eater.
Pureblood?
Voldemort didn't care.
Though he had portrayed himself as a fanatical pureblood supremacist during his reign, Voldemort himself was a half-blood.
While he disliked mentioning it, Voldemort didn't value blood purity as much as he valued whether one's power could be used for his purposes.
Pureblood ideology was merely a tool for his control.
First-year students were the easiest to manipulate.
Voldemort planned to groom John into a young Death Eater and use him as an informant at Hogwarts, much like Snape.
He had Quirrell approach John.
Knowing that John was a diligent student, Quirrell stammered, "Are you studying? How... diligent."
The excuse was ready for John, who replied, "Yes, I've been quite engrossed. If there's nothing else, I'm heading for dinner."
He didn't want to stay with Quirrell, unsure if Voldemort might emerge from somewhere.
John wanted to leave quickly, but Quirrell didn't let him.
Quirrell smiled, "So studious. Perhaps you'd be interested in the knowledge within the Restricted Section."
The Restricted Section?
John's eagerness was evident on his face, a sight Quirrell noted with disdain.
Indeed, wizards pursuing knowledge were always intrigued by the forbidden.
Turning a good child into a Death Eater quickly involved making them realize the importance of power.
Quirrell himself had fallen this way under Voldemort's influence.
Voldemort knew these wizards well; as a young man, he had frequented the Restricted Section, where many dark spells were recorded.
Dark magic was powerful and seductive. Once John studied it, a little guidance could easily turn him into a young Death Eater.
The thought took but a moment. Quirrell smiled, stammering, "You're a good child. I... I can give you a pass for the Restricted Section."
"Really? I've always wanted to go there!"
John acted like an eager student, exactly what Quirrell wanted to see.
Quirrell instructed John to collect the pass from his office next Monday, saving John from sneaking into the Restricted Section at night.
As for Quirrell's intentions, John could guess some of them.
But it didn't matter. As long as he got the pass, he could ignore Quirrell's machinations.
Quirrell wouldn't be around for long anyway; the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was notoriously short-lived.
...
On Monday.
John received the signed pass from Quirrell, who subtly suggested several books like "Sixteenth-Century Dark Arts," "Curses and Their Counter-Curses," and "Outstanding Curses of the Nineteenth Century."
Quirrell claimed that understanding dark magic was fundamental to defending against it, to which John only mentally scoffed.
He showed great interest outwardly but reverted once in the library.
Seeing the trio researching Nicolas Flamel, John didn't disturb them.
Presenting the pass to Madam Pince, he walked freely into the Restricted Section.
Most books in the Restricted Section were advanced; even with his scholarly efforts, John struggled.
"My foundation is still too weak."
Reflecting on this, John found a book on "Goblin Forging."
An idea struck him, thinking of Gryffindor's sword, commissioned by Gryffindor and crafted by goblins.
His combat style resembled Gryffindor's, but his weaponry was lacking.
Using medieval armor's weapon against the troll had been challenging; magical creatures had formidable defenses.
Creatures like dragons, with their highly magical-resistant scales, couldn't be tackled with ordinary weapons.
"Perhaps I could forge one myself."
John's eyes burned with excitement at the thought of owning a weapon of his own.
He borrowed "Goblin Forging" and began studying it voraciously.
This translated work, authored by an Egyptian wizard, was challenging, but John had time to persevere.
In the following days, he also borrowed "A Beginner's Guide to Ancient Runes," steadily mastering the contents of "Goblin Forging."
At night, he packed up his books and headed to the Forbidden Forest.
His punishment was still in effect; John had to patrol the forest with Hagrid every night.
At Hagrid's hut, Fang ran up excitedly, sniffing John all over.
Hagrid laughed heartily, "Fang likes you."
"Likes?"
John looked at Fang, sniffing around his pocket with the sandwiches.
"Are you sure he's not just hungry?"