Harry Potter: The Blogger of Hogwarts

I didn't know what to do. I was terrified one of the spells, none of which even came close to breaking the mirror, might ricochet and hit her. In that moment, I begged the mirror to give us the Stone, not to use, but just to get Hermione to stop.

And then there was a sudden weight in my pocket and I reached into it and pulled out a smooth red rock. The Philosopher's Stone was mine. We did it.

Potter's Platters vanished from sight and my heart cracked a little now that I couldn't see it anymore, but I knew I'd make it real in time. It mattered far more than Hermione wasn't in the middle of a psychotic breakdown anymore. She leaned against the mirror as if she had just finished running a marathon.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron whispered. "What did you see in there?"

"I…I don't," Hermione stammered. "I can't…I won't!"

I squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Hermione. You don't need to tell us. We did it! We've got the stone. Let's get out of here. I'm going to nap for the rest of the weekend."

And so we managed to make our way out of the obstacle course and we opened the door to the third floor corridor and Hagrid was standing in front of us.

"Hi!" I said with a nervous wave.

He opened his mouth and closed it again. "Where did you get those?" he asked in a low, dangerous tone. I didn't know what he was talking about. He pointed at the gas masks. "Where?"

"My parents gave me them," Hermione said, her voice wavering. "Hagrid, what's going on?"

Hagrid crossed his arms. "What were you doing here?"

Oh. Right. We weren't supposed to be here. "We were having a dance party," I blurted.

"With gas masks," Hagrid said flatly.

"It's hip," I lied stubbornly.

He looked at Hermione with concern. I couldn't blame him. She was a mess. "Give me those masks and we can pretend none of this happened." I wasn't sure why he wanted them, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. We all gave him our masks and he looked at them and his face got very, very grim.

"It's just as I thought," he said. He looked up and down the corridor and summoned his umbrella wand again. But before he could cast a spell, O'Neill jogged down the corridor, dressed in a sweatsuit. "Hagrid? What's going on here?"

"Just caught these miscreants sneaking around the forbidden corridor, Professor O'Neill," he said in a much more solicitous tone than before.

O'Neill sighed. "I see. I'll handle their punishment, Hagrid." He didn't move. "Hagrid, I've got the matter handled. Please leave."

Hagrid walked off, leaving us at the mercies of the imposter and probably deeply evil man who'd infiltrated our school for some sinister purpose. "Where's the stone?" he asked quietly.

"We'll never tell you!" Ron said bravely.

"You have it on your person, don't you?" O'Neill realized. "If you hadn't gotten it yet, you'd have said as much, and you just came out of the chamber, so it must be there."

We all pulled out our wands and pointed them at him. "You can't have it!" I shouted. "We won't let your evil plot succeed!"

O'Neill looked startled. "My what? What are you talking about?"

"We know you're an imposter," Hermione blurted. "We know you're out to steal the Philosopher's Stone. We know you hate Slytherins. You wouldn't cast a spell when Goyle got hurt or when Voldemort attacked us."

O'Neill sighed. He suddenly looked very weary. "Not quite as good a performance as I expected from you, Hermione. One out of four. I should have known this couldn't last forever, but I wasn't expecting first years to realize there was something wrong."

"Why do you want the Stone?" Ron demanded.

He blinked. "I don't. But you're right about me being an imposter. And there was a very good reason I didn't cast a spell against Voldemort or to heal Goyle. It was because I couldn't." He gave a crooked grin. "You see…I'm a Muggle."

"That's impossible," Hermione said immediately. "You need special medallions to see the campus."

"Most everyone does," O'Neill agreed. "But sometimes, very rarely, Muggles are born with the ability to see through the charms. Most people like that are identified young and have their brains altered so they can't see it. I never was for some reason. I didn't stumble on Dublin's magical district until I was in college. From then on, learning about the magical world became something of a hobby of mine."

I lowered my wand a little, but I didn't put it away. This could have been a very clever ruse. Though it definitely did seem to make sense. "I became a chemistry teacher. Got married, had kids. Last year, Rose divorced me and took the kids and I was all alone in the house. I decided I might as well try for a job in the magical world. My predecessor was fond of saying there was no foolish wand waving in potions. The ingredients may come from magical plants and animals, but there's no magic actually involved in brewing them."

He sighed. "So that's my secret. I'll make you a deal. I'll write Flamel and tell him to expect the Stone. You send the Stone to him, he gets it, everyone wins. I don't get you in trouble, you don't get me in trouble. Deal?"

I put away my wand. "Deal."

So it just goes to show, readers, you should never judge a book by its cover. Professor O'Neill isn't evil at all. He's just a criminal guilty of fraud and probably child endangerment by taking a job which needs someone magical to be able to heal wounds at a moment's notice. We got the Stone, we saved Hermione from a nervous breakdown, and now I can focus on what's important: holding auditions for the Tempest. Bye for now!

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