Sorcerer in the world of magic

Finally, Christmas morning arrived. Stephen, accustomed to deep slumber, groaned irritably as his peace was shattered by an unbearable din. From the Ravenclaw common room, located directly beneath his bedroom, loud voices, laughter, and the rustle of unwrapped paper echoed. The students, apparently, had woken up at the crack of dawn and were fully engaged in opening presents, completely oblivious to the possibility that someone might still be sleeping.

Stephen muttered something under his breath, desperately trying to ignore this celebration of life. But it was futile. The noise intensified, and then, with a bang that rattled the windows, a door on the second floor, where the bedrooms were located, slammed shut. Immediately after, heavy, measured footsteps could be heard slowly descending the staircase.

In the common room, previously filled with chatter, an instant, dead silence fell. Everyone froze, presents suspended in their hands, and gazes, full of uneasy anticipation, darted towards the staircase. A moment later, Stephen appeared on the last step. His face wasn't just displeased—it expressed absolute, cosmic indignation mixed with deadly drowsiness. His hair was disheveled, his eyes narrowed. He slowly surveyed the frozen students, and that gaze seemed to pierce right through them.

Tension in the room mounted. Even the usually fearless older students grew nervous, feeling caught red-handed. One of them, Marietta Edgecombe, couldn't take it anymore and cleared her throat, trying to break the tension. "H-Happy Christmas, Stephen," she managed to stammer with a strained smile.

Stephen slowly, very slowly, turned his head towards her, tilting it slightly to the side. His narrowed gaze slid over her, and Marietta felt a prickle of unease. She instantly regretted opening her mouth at all and cursed herself for her initiative. At that moment, she swore she would never again be the first to speak to Stephen if he had just woken up.

Without a word, Stephen stood there for a while, as if giving them time to fully grasp the depth of his displeasure. Then, unhurriedly turning around, he slowly began to climb back up the stairs. As soon as the dull thud of his bedroom door closing was heard, the Ravenclaws collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

"God, that was terrifying!" whispered one of the first-years, almost in tears.

Marietta, pale but now smiling, pressed a hand to her chest. "Another second, and I would have fainted! I thought he was going to turn me into a bat or something worse!"

Gradually, the noise began to resume, but much quieter now. The festive atmosphere returned, but with a new, reverent note of silence, as if everyone understood that a sleeping genius was best left undisturbed.

Meanwhile, Stephen, having entered his room, began complaining to his owl, Athena, perched by the window. "It's not fair, Athena," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I got into Ravenclaw, and they're always making noise in the mornings! Why is our house so... energetic? Gryffindor could be just as loud, but at least they sleep until noon!" Athena merely blinked her large yellow eyes, clearly accustomed to his morning monologues.

Then his gaze fell upon a couple of new items lying on his bedside table. These were gifts. He approached them. From Hermione was a thick book on ancient runes – "Forgotten Symbols and Their True Meanings." From Cho – a new set of Quidditch accessories: stylish dragonhide gloves and a small but very accurate Golden Snitch compass. The professors had also not forgotten him: Professor McGonagall gave him a set of quills that wrote by dictation, and Professor Flitwick – a collection of rare magical notes that, according to him, were capable of "awakening the most ancient melodies." Stephen examined the gifts and thought with satisfaction how good it was that he hadn't forgotten them either, generously giving each an individual present.

To Hermione, he gave a first edition of "Great Wizards of the 20th Century," personally signed by one of the authors. To Cho, he presented a brand new "Nimbus 2000," knowing her dream of joining the Quidditch team and foreseeing that, according to canon, she would be taken as Ravenclaw's Seeker next year. To Professor McGonagall, he gave an antique hourglass that, according to rumors, sped up time for tasks – very useful for such a busy woman. To Flitwick – a self-playing lyre capable of performing any melody at its owner's will, even those not yet composed. To Professor Snape, Stephen, with a slight smirk, sent a rarest edition of the treatise "Poisons and Antidotes: A Complete Guide" in a snake-skin inlaid binding, knowing it would be appreciated by his grim mind. Even Dumbledore was not forgotten by Stephen, who gave him a pair of luxurious, hand-knitted wool socks adorned with tiny dragons, knowing his weakness for warm socks.

The day passed as usual. After breakfast (which Stephen ate in relative peace, as the other students were busy with games and socializing), he spent several hours in the library, studying Hermione's new book. In the evening, after dinner, he returned to the Ravenclaw common room, where he rejoined the quiz, enjoying his role as host and the rare moments when someone almost guessed the answer.

Night fell unnoticed. As Hogwarts sank into slumber, Stephen, as usual, headed to the Restricted Section of the library. The dim light of his Lumos spell cast strange shadows on the tall shelves filled with ancient tomes. He chose several books on advanced Transfiguration and settled down at a table, immersing himself in reading. Suddenly, he heard the door of the section creak open slowly. Stephen reacted instantly: he quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, blending with the shadows, becoming completely imperceptible.

A moment later, Harry Potter entered the section. He was wearing that very famous Invisibility Cloak. Stephen inwardly smirked. "Aha, so this is it. It seems the plot is taking its course." He immediately understood that, according to canon, Harry received this cloak from Dumbledore for Christmas, and if he was here, he was obviously looking for information about Nicolas Flamel. Stephen watched carefully as Harry, holding a lantern, made his way between the shelves, searching for the right book.

Harry stopped in front of one of the shelves where the very living book, which growled and bit in the movie, lay. He reached out his hand. Just as his fingers almost touched the spine, Stephen decided it was time to intervene. He abruptly removed the Disillusionment Charm and said, "I don't think you should open that."

Harry jumped in surprise, almost dropping his lantern in fright. His eyes widened, he spun around frantically, and then, seeing Stephen, breathed a sigh of relief. "Stephen! You scared me to death!" he mumbled, pressing a hand to his heart.

Stephen looked at him, then his gaze slid to the Invisibility Cloak that Harry held in his hands. Stephen began to examine it carefully, and without taking his eyes off the fabric, asked, "Harry, what are you looking for? Maybe I can help?"

Harry paused for a moment. He knew Stephen was incredibly intelligent, and his knowledge often surpassed even the professors'. Moreover, Harry trusted Stephen, as they both were not from the wizarding world and had grown up in the Muggle world, creating a kind of unspoken brotherhood. "I... I'm looking for Nicolas Flamel," Harry confessed, lowering his voice. "We think... we think Snape is trying to steal something, and it's connected to Flamel."

Stephen nodded, his gaze still fixed on the cloak. "Nicolas Flamel," Stephen began calmly. "A famous alchemist, a friend of Albus Dumbledore. He is six hundred and sixty-five years old, and his wife, Perenelle, is six years younger. They are the only known creators of the Philosopher's Stone, which grants immortality and can turn metals into gold. The Stone is currently held here at Hogwarts, under reliable protection."

Harry froze, realization dawning on him. "The Philosopher's Stone! So that's what Snape is looking for!" he whispered, his eyes gleaming with determination.

At that moment, the door creaked, and Filch entered the Restricted Section. Harry instantly grabbed the cloak, almost dropping the lantern. But Stephen reacted faster. With a slight wave of his hand, he magically caught the falling lantern, preventing a clatter. Then, without losing a second, he quickly cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself and vanished along with the lantern, blending into the darkness.

When Stephen looked back from his hiding place, he saw that Harry had already vanished under the cloak. Stephen, in his invisible state, cautiously hid behind one of the shelves, preparing to wait quietly until Filch left. But suddenly another silhouette entered the section. It was Snape.

"Argus?" Snape said in his usual, insidiously smooth voice. "What happened?"

"I thought I heard something here, Professor," Filch mumbled, looking around. "Some noise... Perhaps students broke in."

Snape frowned, his gaze sweeping over the shelves. Stephen, hidden in the shadows, instantly understood: with the Disillusionment Charm, he could deceive other students and even Filch, but it was highly unlikely to deceive such an experienced wizard as Snape. The slightest ripple in the air, any sound, or even a scent could give him away.

Therefore, with incredible caution, Stephen began to slowly, step by step, retreat towards the exit, trying not to make a single sound. Stepping into the corridor, he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, "Mission accomplished. Excellent work."

Suddenly, a cold hand rested on his shoulder. Stephen froze.

"Mr. Strange, I presume?" Snape's familiar, icy voice drawled.

Stephen slowly removed the Disillusionment Charm, turned around, and offered a foolish, strained smile. "Professor Snape! What a... uh... unexpected encounter! I just... I got lost! Yes, exactly, lost! I was looking for the restroom, and somehow I ended up here... in the Restricted Section... Completely by accident! Honestly!" he began to spin an incredibly clumsy, rambling story, trying to feign panic and confusion.

But Snape interrupted him. "Enough, Mr. Strange. I believe your nocturnal leisure requires a more... structured approach. I happen to have a few assignments that will ensure you a deep and undisturbed sleep."