The next morning in the Great Hall, Aster leaned across the table toward the others and said quietly, "The dog was guarding something. There was a trapdoor beneath it."
Hermione nodded immediately, her brow furrowed. "There's no other reason to use a three-headed dog unless it's protecting something important."
Harry, chewing on a piece of toast, added, "Hagrid let something slip... He said he did a favor for Dumbledore, the same day Gringotts was invaded."
Aster turned to him sharply. "Someone invaded Gringotts?"
Harry blinked. "You don't remember? The day after we arrived at Hogwarts, it was all over the mail. Said a vault had been broken into... but nothing was taken."
Aster's eyes narrowed. "So either they were too late, or what they were after had already been moved…"
Hermione glanced between them, realization dawning in her eyes.
Ron leaned in, voice low. "And if Hagrid was there that day…"
They all turned to him, listening.
"There's no place safer than Hogwarts," he finished, his face pale.
Aster's eyes narrowed. The phrase echoed with weight. Not because of enchantments or architecture—but because Dumbledore was here. That was the real shield.
A three-headed dog guarding a trapdoor.
Someone breaking into Gringotts to steal something that had already been moved.
A troll let into the castle—on Halloween, of all nights.
Too many coincidences.
Aster rose from the bench, not abruptly, but with finality. His voice was calm, but firm. "Harry, start asking Hagrid a few questions. Not directly, just… lead him there. Hermione, help him."
Hermione gave him a look, curious, slightly worried. "And what about you?"
Aster stopped mid-step, as if Hermione's question had pulled a string inside him. He glanced over his shoulder at her.
"Hm… good question," he said thoughtfully. "Unlike Harry, I don't have a connection with Hagrid. Dumbledore won't tell me anything directly. I could try digging through books, but we don't even know what we're looking for."
He turned forward again, resuming his pace with quiet confidence.
"So for now, I'll focus on gaining control in Slytherin. That much, at least, I can control."
Hermione frowned slightly but didn't argue.
Pansy, never far from his shadow lately, fell into step behind him, silent but attentive, like she didn't want to miss a word or moment.
Later, in the quiet corners of the library, the whole group was gathered around a table.
"So?" Aster asked, not looking up from the animagi book in his hands. He flipped a page calmly, already feeling like he might be able to attempt the transformation before he turned twelve.
"Nicholas Flamel," said Harry and Ron in unison, while Hermione nodded.
Aster glanced at Pansy to gauge her reaction. She wrinkled her brow, then shook her head.
"I can ask my parents," she offered, casually brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll have an answer by tomorrow."
"Good," Aster said. "If it's important enough to warrant protection from a three-headed dog under Dumbledore's watch, then he must've made something worth stealing. A weapon, maybe?"
Hermione shook her head firmly. "If it were a weapon, Dumbledore would have destroyed it, not hidden it."
"Something powerful, then," Aster murmured. "But not violent. Something... different."
He tapped a finger against the page, but his mind was elsewhere. 'We don't have enough yet…'
Just then, Susan approached the table, her steps measured and quiet. "Good evening," she said, then fixed her eyes on Aster.
"Aster, can I ask a favor? You're in debt with me."
Aster sighed, closing the book with a quiet thud. He'd expected this, alliances always came with a cost.
He tilted his head toward her, a flicker of resignation behind his composed expression.
He followed her without a word. It was clear she didn't want to speak in front of the others.
"I suppose I am," Aster said quietly once they were out of earshot. "What do you need?"
Susan didn't look him in the eye. Instead, she stared ahead, her voice soft but steady.
"I want you to come with me over the winter break. To visit my aunt. She... doesn't really trust me." Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. "I've never had many friends. But if she sees you with me, someone like you, it might give her peace of mind."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her cheeks tinged pink. "And... well, it might give you something too. A real connection. With her. With the Ministry."
Aster watched her carefully. She was awkward, almost clumsy in her delivery, more composed than Neville, but still uncertain. Yet she wasn't wrong.
He tilted his head, considering.
Susan Bones, niece of the Head of the DMLE. Lonely, genuine, politically valuable.
He gave a small, amused breath. "You're not very good at scheming, Susan."
She turned redder. "I'm not scheming!"
"I know," he said, tone softening. "That's what makes it work."
She blinked at him.
"I'll go," he added simply.
The following days dragged by, each slower than the last. But eventually, Aster found what he was looking for.
"Nicholas Flamel," Pansy said one evening in a quiet corridor, the group clustered together. "He's the creator of the Philosopher's Stone. He's been using it to stay alive."
Hermione leaned against the wall, deep in thought. "So... someone either wants unlimited gold, or immortality."
"Gold doesn't make sense," Aster muttered, eyes narrowed. "They broke into Gringotts. If they wanted money, they'd just try again."
Harry, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. "Aster... shouldn't you be getting ready to visit Susan's aunt?"
Aster didn't even look back. "I know."
But his mind wasn't on the trip. He felt it, something dark creeping beneath the surface of the school. Everyone had their suspicions. Snape, of course, stood out. He always seemed to be lurking in the wrong place at the wrong time, constantly poking at Harry, and more often, at Aster himself.
As Aster walked, the locket around his neck gave off a soft hiss, like the sound of distant wind through glass. Not fear, not exactly. Just a warning. A sense of unease.
There were too many unanswered questions. Too many shadows shifting behind polite smiles.
And Aster hated not knowing what waited in the dark.