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Hey guys, as you've probably all noticed, I've been having a slump in my writing lately. This comes from a few things. Partly because I'm now taking classes again. I'm studying Biochemistry, and I'm taking two chemistry classes that are keeping me very busy these days and by the time I want to sit down and write something, I'm already tired and just want to shut my brain off. Another thing stopping me from writing is that I have it in my head that I need to write a 3,000 word chapter, and my brain is viewing my writing sessions as "You need to write all 3,000 words right now!" and that's just too daunting for my tired brain and it was a bit paralyzing. Hence, no chapters lately.

So, to try and trick my brain into not paralyzing my writing, I've decided to split the chapter into parts of 1,000 words and publish these parts as I write them. Then, when the whole chapter is complete, I'll post it all in one big chapter so it's all in one place. Hopefully this will allow me to write more in this new schedule of mine.

I'm really sorry for all the delays.

(Word Count: 1,006)

As they walked back to the castle, Hermione was stuck wondering about what they learned. “Do either of you know who Nicholas Flamel is?”

Ron shook his head. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't remember.”

Harry nodded. “He's a famous alchemist, known for creating the Philosopher’s Stone. Both he and his wife are over 600 years old.”

They gasped.

“It can't possibly be the stone down there, could it?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. “It does make sense. If one of Voldemort’s followers manages to steal the stone, I imagine it would help him return to his full strength and finish the job he started all those years ago.”

They all paled at the thought, Neville nearly turning green. 

“Y-you can’t mean one of Y-you-Know-Who’s death eaters, do you?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded. 

“That’s it,” Hermione declared, “We’re telling a teacher about this! This is not something we should be handling ourselves.”

Harry sighed to himself. This will only help brace them for facing the actual death eaters. “Alright, I’ll go and talk to Dumbledore about this tomorrow. Still, I don’t know if they would take us seriously. Dumbledore is here after all, and he does know someone is after the stone. So I can’t imagine what they would change with our warning.”

Hermione frowned. “I suppose you’re right.” She pouted and stomped in frustration. “Oh, if only we knew who was trying to steal the stone!”

Harry kept his mouth shut on that one.

“Let’s just keep a lookout for anything suspicious for now. In the meantime, we’ve got a study group to get to,” Harry said.

They made their way through the grounds, to one of the many unused classrooms in one of the wings of the school. It was the classroom Dumbledore said they could use. 

Harry opened the door and stopped in shock.

He had checked the room out before, just to lay eyes on the room he would be using the next few years. It was a regular room. Now, however, it had been expanded to be the size of the great hall, and full of students. Definitely over 100 students, from all the houses and years by the looks of things.

He could overhear some of them talking amongst themselves, speculating on what sort of lessons that the Boy-Who-Lived was going to teach them.

When they all noticed Harry’s group entering, they cheered.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron gasped, a huge grin forming on his face, “Looks like word’s gotten around about our study group!”

He scowled. This was nothing like what he wanted to put together. He wanted a quiet group that would help each other blitz through homework, then would help with their own personal projects. Something like a think tank, or a sounding board for magical ideas. Not… whatever this was. Were they expecting some lecture on dueling dragons or something?

“So it seems,” he muttered.

He made his way over to the side, where he saw Professor Bathsheda Babbling sitting at a desk, writing in a large book. She looked like a cross between Snape and McGonagall. A middle-aged woman, with pale skin, dressed in all black, with straight black hair, glasses, and bags under her eyes. Like Snape, her own robe’s had tight sleeves, likely so the normal billowy-style sleeves didn’t interfere with her work.

The desk she was sitting at had three books on it, one an old damaged tome in what looked like sanskrit, what seems to be a reference guide for the sanskrit language, and lastly a fresh new book. A brief glance at them as he approached showed him that she was copying the content of the old book on the left hand side, and translating it into english on the right, with her own annotations on different interpretations on what it might mean.

As he approached, Professor Babbling set her quill into its stand by the ink.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” She said, rolling her wrist to get the aches out. She sounded exhausted. “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of expanding the room to accommodate everyone. Feel free to call on me should you need any help, otherwise, I’ll be right here working on this manuscript.”

“Hello, Professor Babbling. Thank you for your help here. I look forward to your class. I have some questions about Parseltongue I’ll want to run by you, but by the looks of this crowd, I’ll have to postpone it another time.”

At the mention of Parseltongue, Professor Babbling’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Yes, the headmaster did mention that to me. I look forward to working with you in that matter. For now, though, I believe you have a lot of students eager to hear from you.”

Harry turned around to face everyone. They were all watching him with eager faces. He scanned the crowd to see if anyone he actually invited showed up, and found Daphne with her two friends, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini. 

He pulled out his wand and held it to his throat. “Sonorus. Hello, everyone.” He spoke casually, but his voice now carried throughout the entire room, though he was careful not to amplify his voice too much. “First of all, it seems like the scope of this has gotten entirely out of hand. I’d like to know what the rumors were, so I know what you are expecting from this, and from me?”

There was a silence until one of Fred and George, he couldn’t tell which, spoke up, “The rumors are saying you were going to teach us wandless magic, or divine our futures, or teach us how to duel against a dragon!”

“They were all over the place, really,” the other twin commented.

Harry suppressed a groan. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t planning on providing lectures,” Harry said dryly, addressing everyone in his reply. “This was meant to be a normal study group to help each other with homework and personal study projects. Nothing like the dueling club you were all imagining. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

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