The Hagrid's son

Moving a two-ton, three-headed dog was not something just anyone could do, but knowing its weakness for music changed everything. A simple music spell was enough to knock the beast out and easily pass through the trapdoor.

It's just…

"Who thought it was a good idea to give Fluffy earplugs?" Hermione complained, looking exasperated as she pushed aside her sticky hair, completely covered in dog slobber.

"At least it let us through the trapdoor, it's not that bad," Ron whispered to Harry in the room of flying keys, trying to contain his laughter and earning a murderous look from Hermione that promised pain if anyone ever mentioned this incident in the future.

Harry tried not to laugh and kept his mind focused on stopping Voldemort, but the situation had been unexpected for everyone when they entered the room, and Fluffy pounced on an unsuspecting Hermione to happily lick her.

He suspected Barnaby had something to do with the cerberus' change of attitude towards them, but what also made him a bit sad was that Fluffy seemed injured, as it was limping on one of its legs.

Compared to its large body, the injury seemed minor, but still.

"Fortunately, Hermione remembered the sunlight spell against the Devil's Snare at the last second," Harry thought, averting his gaze. "She was too upset about her hair and couldn't relax at all."

"I can't imagine how much soap she'll need to get rid of all that slobber..." Ron joked.

"One more word and...!"

"Alright, Hermione, I won't say anything else!" Ron waved his hands fearfully as Hermione pointed her wand at him, thinking he was about to get a dose of sunlight to the face at full power. "How do you see it, Harry?"

Hermione and Ron turned to look at Harry, since out of the three, he was the most talented at broomstick flying. Ron could manage, but Hermione…

"I'm not sure, I haven't flown much outside of Flying lessons," Harry said, feeling a bit uneasy, not confident he could catch the key with its half-broken wings.

But the fact that it was damaged meant someone had already been through here, and they were racing against the clock!

He mounted the broom and started his chase, taking a few minutes to move smoothly thanks to his talent. After crashing into the wall no less than seven times, he finally managed to hold the correct key between his trembling fingers, giving his friends a proud smile.

It would have been impressive, if not for the missing two front teeth, a crooked nose, and a black eye on his left side.

"Ouch!"

The sound of bones crunching was heard as Hermione set his nose back in place with a basic spell she knew. As for the rest of the injuries, the school nurse could easily treat them later.

They looked at each other and opened the door, ready to face whatever was on the other side. And behind the door was...

A giant chessboard?

"Are you sure we went down the right trapdoor?" Ron asked, puzzled.

Setting up a large-scale magical board game didn't seem like a great defensive measure for something like the Philosopher's Stone.

"Let's not waste time, Ron, magical chess is your thing!"

"Wait, there are pieces missing!" Ron immediately noticed the problem at a glance.

"Don't worry, there are enough of us to fill in the gaps," Hermione reassured.

Yes, it so happened that there were exactly three gaps on one side of the board, for them to position themselves and start the game.

What luck, huh? (Sarcasm at its finest)

[After a game in which Ron decided to sacrifice his life with the heroism of a lion…]

"Hey!" Ron looked around as confused as he was indignant. "I'm still alive, just injured!"

[Ahem, let's continue, where was I... oh, yes.]

[Due to our hero's condition, Hermione and Harry had to move ahead to prevent a great evil from getting hold of the Philosopher's Stone. Hermione solved the potion puzzle with her keen intellect and discovered there was only one vial per person, either to go back or to advance through the terrible flames of doom, so Harry had to part from his friends again, but not before summoning the courage of a thousand men to look his friend in the eyes and declare his undying love...]

"Where is that damned voice coming from?!" Hermione cast spells wildly in embarrassment, and the mysterious but attractive voice was not heard again.

For some reason, Harry had the feeling this was also Barnaby's doing.

He had no proof, but also no doubts.

Adjusting his mindset, as he had the feeling this time the enemy was really behind the fourth door, he took the potion and crossed the flames with iron determination to meet the last person he expected to see here.

"Professor Quirrell?"

What followed was a monologue where the now not-so-stuttering professor revealed what had happened and forced Harry to stand in front of the mirror once more.

Harry saw his parents again and, urged by Quirrell, thought about the Philosopher's Stone.

His reflection smiled at him and put its hand in its pocket, only to rummage around for a while and materialize a question mark over its head, pulling its hand out to extend it and open it, revealing... nothing.

Harry looked confused at his reflection, which in turn seemed to look at its hand, not understanding why it was empty.

Where did the Philosopher's Stone go?

While Harry and Quirrell carried out a performance before the hidden eyes of Dumbledore, who was lying on a lounger in a corner eating a bag of peppermint humbugs undetectably, in Hagrid's hut...

"It was a good idea to have dinner at home tonight, son," Hagrid happily rubbed his swollen belly with one hand while covering a yawn with the other. "But I think I shouldn't have had a sixth helping; I'm going straight to bed."

"Oh, you know, sometimes it's good to do these things," Barnaby magically cleaned the dishes and put everything away. "Go to sleep peacefully, I'll be looking at the stars for a while tonight."

Nodding sleepily, Hagrid said goodnight. Once Hagrid's snores began to resonate in the cabin, Barnaby gave Fang some chops and went outside with Vulpix in his arms, sitting on the bench next to the vegetable garden.

Sanshi came out of hiding and lay down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, while spitting and handing him a ruby-like stone.

"So much fuss over something like this," Barnaby looked at the Philosopher's Stone in his hands, feeling its contents carefully. "Dumbledore is going to get a big surprise tonight," he laughed.

He put Vulpix on the ground and, holding the stone, made contact with the creature, which began to glow for a few moments until it turned into a larger version, with white fur and nine tails.

Ninetales!

Nodding to confirm there were no anomalies, Barnaby looked at the Philosopher's Stone, which had shrunk a bit after Vulpix's evolution. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he tossed it into the air, and the qilin face on his staff came to life, jumping and opening its mouth to swallow the stone in one gulp.

A continuous flow of power was extracted, and the staff became more perfect, feeding the excess magic back to Barnaby and, by extension of the familiar contract, to Sanshi.

Under the starlight, a group of creatures and a staff underwent a small sublimation before everything returned to normal, the only witness to what had happened being the sound of crickets in the night.