Professor Snape, Do You Know Nicolas Flamel?

They had a new clue: whatever Fluffy was guarding had something to do with Nicolas Flamel. But none of them knew the name.

Eliana thought she had seen it somewhere before. It had something to do with money, she thought, but she could not remember where she had seen it. She could always search the library again.

But her days were already packed. She exercised in the morning, practiced spells, studied ahead, kept up with lessons, and revised. To earn an O on every assignment, she outlined each essay three times, which took even more time. On top of that, she practiced Potions, carved walnuts, collected supplies for the orphanage, and sometimes went to the dungeon office to help Snape prepare ingredients. While she was there, she managed to get a little one-on-one guidance from the Potions Master—and pinch a few of his ingredients.

That last part did not always work.

Sometimes Snape caught her in the act.

Then he gave her detention. That hardly frightened her, though. How was detention any different from what she already did in the dungeon office every few days?

There was one difference: the ingredients she had to prepare for an official detention were usually disgusting. Slimy rat tails, bloody pufferfish eyes, and things like that.

Worse, they were not worth much. She could not even be bothered to stuff them into her pockets, so she ended up working for free.

That did not happen often, though. Most of the time, Snape turned a blind eye to her pilfering. He only caught her when he was especially busy or suddenly in a foul mood. For instance—

"Ritchie, if I see you stealing my ingredients again, I'll turn you into a rope, tie up my Potions supplies with you, and hang you on the wall!"

Snape slapped the essay in his hand aside and spoke furiously.

Eliana, who had been quietly reading at her little table nearby: ???

She looked up in surprise. She had not even started stealing today. She was still doing her homework.

The library turned off its lights and closed at eight in the evening. She could not do anything there in the dark, and the Gryffindor Common Room was far too noisy. It had taken Eliana a while to find this perfect new spot.

It was quiet and spacious, and there was a teacher she could ask questions at any time. He was brilliant, too. He knew everything from charms to Potions. Best of all, he was free!

Eliana only regretted not finding this wonderful place sooner.

Claiming a spot there had taken some work. After all, she could not simply walk up to Snape and say, "Listen, old man, Gryffindor is too noisy. I'm taking over your office as a study room, so you'd better make room and give me half of it."

Snape would surely have sliced her into powder, tossed her into Neville's cauldron, and let her ashes fly when it exploded.

So at first, she had merely offered to help prepare Potions ingredients as she had before. She had not even slipped any into her pockets. Then she had pretended to be exhausted and sat in the corner for a rest.

Snape had not told her to leave.

The next day, she moved a little closer to the floor lamp and stayed a little longer.

Snape ignored her.

On the third day, she took a small stool she had prepared out of her bag.

When Snape did nothing, she curled up on it and began to study.

His quill scraped a little louder across the parchment, but he did not tell Eliana to get out.

So on the fourth day, Eliana asked Snape if she could have a little desk and chair.

He threw her out.

But when she came back the next day, a small desk and chair stood in the corner.

She quietly moved the floor lamp from beside Snape's desk to hers. His office really was rather dark. A vein throbbed at Snape's temple, but he said nothing.

Eliana pretended not to notice.

All in all, she had managed to establish herself in the dungeon office.

At first, she still did a little work each day before starting her homework. Later, she stopped pretending and went straight to studying. She only helped when there were more expensive... no, more valuable ingredients to work with.

Snape paused, then continued his tirade without a change in expression. "Ritchie, I seem to have missed Dumbledore's notice that the Slytherin Head of House's office had become a Gryffindor student's private common room. Or does watching your humble professor struggle with your incomprehensible essays and mountains of Potions ingredients make your reading more immersive?"

Translation: You're using my office for free. How can you sit there doing nothing when I'm this busy? Get up and help me.

Hmph. If you put it that way...

Pouting, Eliana put down her book and slunk off to skin the toads.

She stabbed one toad with a vicious thrust, then began dissecting it from the head down.

She was not really that angry, though. Once she had gotten to know Snape, she had realized just how busy he was.

He taught all seven year groups, which meant standing in classrooms from morning until night. Every day, his students blew up cauldrons and classrooms, leaving him to clean up the mess in almost every lesson. After class, he had to deal with the aftermath of student fights. Then came grading homework, preparing lessons, brewing Potions for the Hospital Wing, patrolling the castle at night, and finding time to research his own Potions—

The more Eliana counted, the more she admired Snape. How could one person have that much energy and still do everything well?

Compared with him, she had it easy!

So she was quite happy to lend Professor Snape a hand now and then when he was run off his feet.

But that left her no time to look up Nicolas Flamel. Wait—why did she have to look him up herself?

Eliana paused mid-skinning and sneaked a glance at Snape. Wasn't there a walking library right here?

She looked up, seemed about to speak, sighed, looked down and made a couple of cuts, frowned, looked up again, and sighed again. She tried one little gesture after another, hoping he would ask what was wrong.

If Snape were that considerate, he would have to change his name to Saint Snape.

He kept his head down and marked essays in silence, as if he were dead. He ignored her completely.

Eliana puffed out her cheeks and began clattering the poor dead toads about, punctuating the noise with heavy sighs.

"If you've broken the knife, replace it with your own," Snape said coldly without looking up.

Eliana fell silent at once. She anxiously inspected the little silver knife. Thank goodness. There was not even a nick in it.

She set the knife aside with a meek expression, then straightened up and planted her hands on her hips. "Professor, I actually have a question I haven't been able to answer. It's making me terribly anxious. If this goes on, I fear my fine character, noble soul, social graces, kind heart... will all be ruined."

Snape looked as if the dead toad in Eliana's hands had jumped up and landed on his face.

"I had no idea you possessed any of those things," he said icily.

Eliana ignored him and gave him a pitiful look.

Snape snorted. "What? Does the esteemed Miss Richie need her professor to invite her to speak?"

So she could ask.

Eliana did not mind his barbs at all. She chirped happily, "Professor, do you know Nicolas Flamel?"

Snape's hand froze as he was marking a T on an essay.