And on with the show.

Daphne and Blaise spread the news that Harry could teleport inside Hogwarts grounds to his other friends by breakfast the morning of November 1st. Harry had a lot of explaining to do.

"Apparition isn't possible inside Hogwarts grounds," Hermione insisted for the fourth time.

"It's not Apparition. I call it poofing. Rather than create a create a personal wormhole, I create a superposition of space," Harry said, his words flying over all but Hermione's head.

"Like quantum entanglement?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Pretty much. I link where I am to where I want to be and then just… switch. I can't describe it any better than that," Harry said helplessly.

"What I want to know is where you went!" Neville spoke up.

Harry shrugged. "I went to the third-floor corridor to head off Quirrell from stealing the Stone. Snape was there too, but I did most of the work, but then I got in a cheap shot on him."

Daphne shook her head. "You took down a grown wizard in a duel. Why am I not surprised? Now who's teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts for the rest of the year?"

"Ask Dumbledore, he seems to be making an announcement this morning," Harry said as their Headmaster came to his feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Hogwarts, I regret to inform you that, in a foolish mistake, Professor Quirrell has fallen prey to the defences around the forbidden third-floor corridor. While not dead, he has been sent to an institution where he may enjoy what remains of his life with the level of care he deserves. Until such time as a new Professor can be hired, I will be personally taking on the burden of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Thank you," the man said with a secret grin the whole while.

"Why do I have the feeling he meant Azkaban and not St. Mungo's?" Ron muttered in the aftermath of Dumbledore's speech.

"He'll get a trial first, at least, but breaking into Gringotts is a serious crime," Harry said lightly.

"I can't believe it was Quirrell the whole time and you didn't bother to tell us!" Blaise huffed.

"Well, your Occlumency wasn't up to snuff yet. Now that he's out of the castle, I don't have to worry about him reading your thoughts anymore," Harry defended himself. "Speaking of, same time this afternoon?"

His friends all nodded and finished their breakfasts.

That afternoon, Harry went on a tour of his friends' mindscapes. Hermione's library was fully indexed and protected by an army of Madam Pince. Daphne had a palace of ice with reflective hallways to confuse and snow golems ready to crush any intruder. Blaise had picked a museum for his mind, with burly security guards armed with wands and hidden passageways to guard the real important memories. Neville's greenhouse was in beautiful bloom, the whole thing laced with creepers of Devil's Snare set to attack anyone who tread on the plants. And Ron had gotten his family's home, the Burrow, to look normal, and had made a copy of his mother in a rage to scare off invaders.

"Not bad, not bad at all. I think I can tell you the major stuff, now," Harry said brightly.

"What's the MAJOR stuff?" Hermione asked with trepidation.

"You know how I said how Tom lives in my head? Well, I lied. I moved him into a vessel. And I recently undid all the dark rituals that mangled his soul, so he's ripe and ready for resurrection as one of the good guys," Harry said, before unveiling Tom. "Say hello, Tom."

"No wise cracks, children. I'm well aware the wizard with a talking skull is a cliche," Tom said in a bored tone.

Daphne's eyes were wide. "The Dark Lord is talking to me," she whispered to herself.

"Correction, I'm not the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord is the persona I crafted in my madness to motivate the Pureblood elite into joining me in my campaign for wizarding domination over muggles. Now I'm just Tom, a wizard trapped in a skull who feels an annoying attachment to the green-eyed brat here," Tom told the Greengrass heiress.

Ron was pale as a ghost. "You're You-Know-Who?"

"Did I not just explain this?" Tom asked, aggrieved.

"I take it the skull is unbreakable?" Neville asked, an odd look in his eyes.

"I see anger… and loss. My Death Eaters did something to your family after my demise. Whatever it is, know that it wasn't on my order. I was in pieces at the time, you see," Tom said to Neville.

Neville's fists went white-knuckled. "Rabastan, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Jr. They used the Cruciatus on my parents for hours, torturing them for information they didn't have about your whereabouts. They're in the Janus Thickey ward, now."

Harry's mind raced. "Wait… your parents are still alive? They're just brain damaged?"

"It's not 'just', Harry. They don't even recognize me. They're like living ghosts," Neville said hotly, tears coming to his eyes.

"Well, now I know what potion I'll be working on with Snape tomorrow! Should I just go for countering the Cruciatus or a general cure-all of the brain?" Harry wondered, pulling out a notebook and scribbling furiously with a self-inking quill.

Neville blinked. "Wait… Harry, you're not actually going to…"

"If I have my way, you'll be celebrating Christmas with your parents, Neville," Harry said, determined. "Let's just go for an anti-Cruiciatus Potion, I can go for the cure-all later. Obviously we'll need a scar remover to get rid of the tissue build-up caused by overusing the curse. We'll have to account for the blood-brain barrier… toxicity of the ingredients interacting with the grey matter…" Harry trailed off, writing like a madman.

Ron patted Neville on the shoulder. "What can I say, mate? He's Harry Potter. He gets things done."

Harry indeed produced a prototype of Cruciatus Cure the next afternoon. Harry tried not to think too hard about how they'd test it out on some poor elf at the Patent Office. Some sacrifices must be made for progress. Snape didn't ask what inspired the sudden interest, but he had a knowing look in his eyes.

The next week passed by like any other, and the next Saturday was the date of Harry's first Quidditch match. Daphne and Blaise were decked out in full Slytherin regalia, Hermione and Neville had gotten little Slytherin flag, and even Ron managed to give Harry a thumbs-up despite rooting directly against him on principle. Harry had his breakfast, and then walked down to the Quidditch stadium to the Slytherin Locker Room. Harry got changed into the Quidditch robes that had to be specially made for his size, and grabbed one of the Nimbus 1000s he'd ordered from the team broom closet. Dumbledore and Madam Hooch had ordered the new broom be kept secret, so naturally the whole school knew within a week. Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, had personally insisted on shaking Harry's hand in thanks for evening out the broom quality of the teams and leaving the game's outcome down to skill.

The other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team filed in, Harry having been first. Harry got quite a few more glimpses of male flesh than he'd been prepared for; apparently, most didn't wear underpants beneath their leggings. Blinking away the sight of what he might grow into once puberty got a hold of him, Harry sat down and listened to Flint's game plan.

"Beaters, get Wood out early. Take out the keeper, our Chasers will have free reign. Keeper, do your damn job. And Seeker, I'd prefer you wait until we have a lead, but go for the Snitch as soon as you see it; can't risk theirs getting the jump on you. For Slytherin!"

"For Slytherin!" they echoed.

At the sound of a small bell, they left the Locker Room and strolled out onto the pitch. Harry was hit by a wave of noise as all four Houses cheered as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams came on the field. Madam Hooch was waiting in the middle, the chest of the four balls at her feet. "Now I want a nice clean game from all of you," she stated as Flint and Wood shook hands. She kicked the chest and the bludgers and Snitch were released.

"The bludgers are released, followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points. The Seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game," commented Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' friend, from the Staff Box.

On Hooch's whistled, they all mounted their brooms and kicked off into the air. "The players take their positions. The Quaffle is released… and the game begins! Whoa, all eyes are on Slytherin Seeker Harry Potter as he dives right in front of the Chasers. Is this some tactic to distract or… I don't believe it! Harry Potter has caught the Snitch within the first ten seconds! This is a world record, folks! The Boy-Who-Lived? More like the Boy-Who-Sought!" Jordan screamed into the microphone as Harry held his hand aloft, going for a lap of the stands so everyone could see the golden wings sticking out of his fist.

Marcus looked equally put out and impressed as they filed back into the Locker Room. "How the hell did you pull that off, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "You said to go for it as soon as I saw it. I never lost track of it once it was released," Harry answered.

"Well, from now on, wait at least 15 minutes so the rest of us have a chance to playl," Flint told him with a grin to soften his words. "All right, everyone, thank Potter for us getting the fastest win in Hogwarts history. I expect to see you all at practice on Tuesday. Enjoy your weekends!"

Harry got changed back into his school robes and slipped into the crowd of exiting students. He made it to Daphne and Blaise's sides before he was recognized. "Potter!" shouted the students nearest him. Before Harry knew what was happening, he was raised up and carried on the shoulders of some fourth- and fifth-years. "Three cheers for the greatest Seeker in the world!" called the third-year leading the moshpit. "Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip…"

"Okay!" Harry said, slipping like an eel out of their hands and back to the ground. "I appreciate the sentiment but please don't touch me without permission. Now, how about I slip to the Kitchens and Slytherin can have a nice lunch party?"

The word soon spread among the Slytherins and shortly afterward, Harry, Daphne, and Blaise found themselves in front of a portrait of a bowl of fruit. Harry reached up to tickle the pear, which morphed into a door knob. Opening the portrait, Harry and his friends stepped into the well-organized chaos of House Elves cooking.

"Master Harry!" squeaked an elderly old she-elf. She hobbled over to them.

Harry grinned and gave her a hug. "Hi, Mimzy. Nice to see you again." She had apparently been his grandparents' elf who'd gone to Hogwarts after their and James' death. She hadn't known Harry had survived, she said, or otherwise she well could have raised him. Harry could only imagine how the presence of the House Elf would have gone over with the Dursleys pre-Gadzooks. A magical non-human, even one that did all the chores, would have been physically thrown out the house.

"What can Mimzy do for young Master Harry?" the elf asked, eyes bright in anticipation of an order.

"Can you arrange for a few party platters be sent to the Slytherin Common Room, please? Oh, and dig out the butterbeer?"

"Of course, of course!" Mimzy said. She clapped her hands and a contingent of elves stopped what they were doing to set on this new task. She wasn't Head Elf, but she carried some authority by dint of her age.

"Thanks, Mimzy. And have you considered my offer?' Harry asked.

Mimizy patted Harry's cheek. "Mimizy is not much longer for this world. Mimzy can't handle a new family. But Mimzy has a grandson with a bad family. If Master Harry could somehow free him, Dobby could look after the Dursleys."

Harry nodded. "Who owns him?"

"The Malfoys," Mimzy said solemnly.

Harry blinked. "Oh. Well, that should be simple enough."

"How exactly should that be simple?" Daphne asked as they left the Kitchens towards the Common Room.

"Off the top of my head, Aging Potion and impersonating Tom and ordering Lucius Malfoy to hand over his elf," Harry said.

Blaise blinked. "That actually might work. But when would you get the chance to meet Lucius?"

"Blaise, I'm Slytherin's King. And the Boy-Who-Lived. Of course I'm getting an invite to the Malfoy Yule Ball," Harry said with confidence.

They reached the Common Room and found the party already in swing. Someone had gotten out a Wizarding Wireless and music was playing while people munched on the food, drank the butterbeer, talked, and even danced. Harry and his friends were treated as guests of honor, the other two for the sheer fact they were his friends. Harry enjoyed the next few hours, until they all canceled the party to go to dinner at the bell.

"You're sure butterbeer is non-alcoholic? Because I'm pretty sure I'm buzzed," Harry asked his friends with a dopey grin as they sat down at the Slytherin Table.

"It's weaker than muggle beer, but chug ten in a row like you did and even butterbeer has a kick," Daphne said with a chuckle.

"You got butterbeer? How?" Ron asked as he sat down.

"We asked the House Elves nicely," Harry said, blinking when he saw two of Ron. 'Okay, I think I just learned I'm a lightweight."

"No duh, you're barely over a hundred pounds," Hermione sniffed. "Next you'll be sneaking Ogden's Firewhiskey into the school."

"I'll save that for seventh-year," Harry said before biting his chicken. "I love chicken, chicken is the BEST."

Neville looked from Harry to Blaise and Daphne. "Inebriation aside, I'm guessing you had a fun party?"

"It was quite pleasant. Odd having it in the middle of the day, though. Harry, let the next game last longer," Daphne ordered.

"Already promised Flint," Harry slurred.

"Snape incoming," Blaise hissed as their professor walked toward them. He took one look at Harry and chuckled.

"Your father had a weakness for butterbeer too, Potter. Make sure from now on if you overindulge to not leave the Common Room or make it to the Infirmary.

"Didn't hit me till we hit the Great Hall, Sev," Harry protested.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Ms. Greengrass, Mr. Zabini, please escort Mr. Potter back to his room."

"Yes, Professor," his students chorused, hiking arms under Harry's shoulders and lifting him to his feet.

"I can walk! Not in a straight line, but I can walk," Harry complained.

"Sure you can," Daphne said, grunting with effort as Harry's weight came down on her as they left the Great Hall.

"I saw cocks today. Big, hairy cocks," Harry told them conversationally.

Blaise almost tripped. "I'm sorry?" he said hesitantly, not sure what to make of that.

"I think I like boys a little. Not as much as girls, but still. Draco's pretty. He's no Cho Chang, but he's pretty," Harry said dreamily.

"Any man or woman would be lucky to have you," Daphne told him as they reached the Common Room.

"Thanks, Daphne. You're a good friend. I'll remember you when I make it to the top," Harry said, kissing her cheek sloppily.

"You're halfway there already, mate," Blaise said as he tried to open Harry's door.

"The password is in Parseltongue. I've got it," Tom spoke up invisibly. There was a series of hisses and the door unlocked.

Daphne and Blaise heaved Harry onto his bed. He was snoring in seconds.

"Mental note, never take Harry to a bar when we grow up," Daphne said, wiping her cheek.

"Wish we'd taken some pictures for blackmail," Blaise grinned.

The next morning, Harry woke with a splitting headache and needing to pee like a racehorse. He rushed to the bathroom and relieved his bladder before it exploded or poisoned his kidneys. He drank several cups worth of water straight from the faucet, helping to combat his dehydrated state. Luckily, he didn't vomit. Harry changed into fresh robes in his room, and darkly asked Tom "Enjoy the show last night?"

"It was quite amusing to watch the antics of a blitzed 11-year-old. You admitted to bisexuality and planted one on the Greengrass girl," Tom said with sadistic glee.

"Don't remind me. I can't believe I admitted I had a crush on Draco," Harry groaned.

"What is that about? Because you've been treating him pretty cold the whole year," Tom asked.

"I can't help it; I see a bad boy, I think I can change him. Worked with you, didn't it?" Harry said, tapping Tom on the top of his skull.

"Yes, but given I'm old enough to be your grandfather and I lack a corporeal form, I'm pretty sure there's zero chance of romance between us," Tom said dryly.

Harry almost threw up in his mouth. "Don't even joke about that. Even when I give you back a body, that would be too weird. You're like my demented uncle or something, not my soulmate."

"I live to make you uncomfortable," Tom said airily.

Harry dragged himself to breakfast and went for the greasiest foods he could find.

"Good morning!" Daphne chimed loudly and directly in his ear, making Harry jump and then moan.

"Hell is filled… with people like you," Harry hissed at his female friend, his head pounding.

"At least you learned to take it easy on the butterbeer," Blaise offered as he sat beside Harry at the Gryffindor Table. "Why'd you choose this table this morning?"

"The Gryffindors have the juiciest sausages," Harry said to explain himself. "And you, random seventh-year, I'm aware that sounded dirty. Please do not comment on it."

The girl covered her mouth to hide her laughter, sliding a few spaces away to give them privacy.

Ron sat down opposite Harry, with Hermione and Neville taking places at his sides. "He say anything interesting on the way back to your Common Room?" the Weasley asked before loading his plate.

"The conversation turned… homoerotic," Blaise said delicately.

"Apparently, the Quidditch teams all play commando. And Harry here thinks Draco is pretty," Daphne said with a wicked grin.

Neville choked on a gulp of pumpkin juice.

Harry hung his head. "Must we really hash out my drunken ramblings? I would have said Mrs. Norris was pretty with that amount of alcohol."

"But you didn't, you said it was MALFOY," Ron said like it was a crime against nature. "I mean, sure, he looks girly, but you're actually attracted to him?"

Harry rose a challenging brow. "Yes, I am. The same way I find half the class aesthetically pleasing in one way or another. You can admire the portrait without wanting to buy it, you know. I had a crush on all of you before you guys settled into roles as my pseudo-siblings."

Hermione blushed. "How flattering. Now, can we please discuss something else besides Harry's love interests?"

Professor Dumbledore gave a light cough, drawing their attention to his presence behind them. "Pardon me, my students. I was wondering if I could borrow Harry for the morning?"

Harry scarfed down the last few bites of his breakfast and stood up. "Consider me borrowed," he said brightly. Harry was quite interested to see what Dumbledore wanted with him and/or Tom. "I'll see you guys at the usual spot when I'm done, okay?" he told them. Given it was Sunday, he of course meant the Room of Requirement.

Harry followed Dumbledore through a number of secret passageways he was proud to say he'd been aware of to get to the seventh floor almost unseen by other students. With a muttered "Licorice Wand," Dumbledore led Harry past the gargoyle and up to his office.

Harry paused when he saw another man already waiting in the office. One look at him and it was clear that his whole body was being sustained by magic: death clung to him like a wraith, eagerly waiting for that golden glow suffusing every cell to vanish and let the man be claimed by the Veil. And he was holding a red stone in his hand that glowed like a star to Harry's vision. The young wizard immediately sunk into a bow. "It's an honor, Mr. Flamel."

"Albus, you said you wouldn 't warn him," Nicholas Flamel, one of two 600+ year old humans in the world, said to his former apprentice chidingly.

"I did not say a word, Nicholas. Among other gifts, Harry has the benefit of Mage Sight. He must have seen something about you that tipped him off," Dumbledore said with a grin.

Harry took a seat before Dumbledore, trying not to freak out that Flamel took the chair adjacent.

"Now, Harry. I believe that you told Severus that in repayment for defending the Stone, you would appreciate the opportunity to study it. I believe you also told him that rather than desiring the Stone for yourself, you'd rather make one yourself," Dumbledore said while unwrapping a lemon drop and popping it in his mouth.

Harry nodded. "I'd love just a minute with it, I'd learn so much about its makeup and magic with my senses. And of course I'd rather make my own. I'm not going to steal Mr. Flamel's."

Nicholas chuckled. "Such honest drive. You remind me of myself, young Harry, a long, LONG time ago." Flamel placed the Stone on the table in front of Harry. "Learn what you can, Mr. Potter."

Harry reverently took the Philosopher's Stone in his hand. He twirled it in his hands, smelled it, even licked it. "Dragon blood as the main ingredient, stewed in a golden cauldron for seven months with other ingredients and constant stirring and enchantments cast on the liquid. And then you somehow condensed and crystallized it with carbon into a diamond-like structure. Just touch it to metal and it transmutes, just dunk it in water and it produces the Elixir. Why not add a password or activation phrase?"

"After decades of pursuit, I just wanted the damn thing to work at all, let alone adding special features. I'm very impressed, young Harry. I'd heard you were something of a Potioneer from a magazine last month, combined with your Mage Sight you'd make for an excellent Alchemist," Nicholas Flamel said, taking back the Stone when Harry handed it over.

Harry considered showing off and said "Of course, now that I've seen it, I can just Conjure a copy," Harry said, flicking his wand and doing just that.

Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore both blinked. Then they both took turns examining Harry's copy of the Stone. "By Merlin, it's real!" Flamel exclaimed as he took out his own wand and cast several charms on the second Stone.

"Harry, even Tom would have struggled with matter creation, let alone conjuring such a complex magical artifact," Dumbledore said leadingly.

Harry shrugged. "I just have a talent, I guess. I get magic the way Einstein got physics. I don't even think about how complex the task is, I just do it. If it's any consolation, that took a third of my core to produce," Harry confessed. "So, can I keep it?"

Nicholas Flamel chuckled. "I'm very glad I stayed alive long enough to meet you, young Harry Potter. Yes, you may keep your Stone. Just guard it well, for it will soon be the only one in existence."

Harry pocketed his personal Philosopher's Stone and frowned. "You and your wife have chosen to die, then?"

"Perenelle and I are very tired. We've lived long enough. Time for the next great adventure," Nicholas said without regret or hesitance. His mind was made up.

"You'll be missed, Nicholas," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"That is the true measure of success in life, isn't it? Not riches or how long you stuck around, but the number of lives you touched," Flamel said, standing up. "Albus, always a pleasure. Harry, use that Stone well. So long!" And with that, he took a pinch of Floor powder and vanished into green flames in Dumbledore's fireplace.

Tom spoke up for the first time. "I do hope you'll be using that Stone to give me a body. Haven't I earned one by this point?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "If I make you a body with the Elixir of Life as an ingredient, you'll be born immortal, and we all know that's like giving a pyromaniac matches when it comes to you. You'll get your body as a birthday present, don't worry."

Dumbledore coughed. "Are you sure that's the wisest option, Harry?"

Harry eyed his Headmaster. "Tom is a good person. Or at least not an evil person. He'll do the wizarding world a hell of a lot more good as a full-bodied wizard than as a possessed skull. And Yule is the time for rituals of new beginnings."

*He's right, Albus,* Fawkes sang from his perch.

Dumbledore sighed and sipped his tea. "Forgive me. For the longest time, I believed Tom to be irredeemable. I'm most glad to be proven wrong, but it takes some convincing for my old mind."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I may be Slytherin to the core, but that doesn't make me bad. I'll be sure to listen to your advice when I'm Minister for Magic, assuming you're still around."

"And I suppose you expect me to fund your campaign with my new Stone?" Harry asked challengingly.

"Got to use it for SOMETHING, right?" Tom countered.

Albus chuckled. "The three of us should make a fearsome force for change. It's just a shame it'll take seven years for Harry to graduate and join the game as more than a financier."

"That just gives you two a head start to set things up for when I get there and can throw my Boy-Who-Lived mojo around," Harry said with a grin. "So, professor, anything else you wanted to discuss this morning?"

"I am somewhat curious as to what Tom used to house the fragments of his soul. Do you still have them all?" Harry asked.

Harry smacked his head. "Knew I forgot something! Be right back!" Harry poofed to inside his trunk and opened the safe and drew out three items before proofing back to Dumbledore's office.

The elderly wizard had a delightfully bemused expression on his face. "That was not Apparition, was it?"

"I call if poofing. I can show you how later if you want. Anyway, three heirlooms of the Founders: Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's chalice. If you happen to know where to find Gryffindor's sword, we'd have a museum case ready," Harry said, laying the items on Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore eyed them all with boyish interest, happy as a clam to see pieces of history before him. "I believe a Gryffindor can pull it out of the Sorting Hat when they have true need of it."

Harry waved his hand and Summoned the Sorting Hat. Peering inside, Harry reached around and tripped the magical switch he found hidden in the workings of the Hat. A silver handle appeared in his hand and Harry pulled out the sword of Godric Gryffindor. "There we are. Just took a Slytherin with Mage Sight, apparently."

Dumbledore chuckled even as Tom sighed. "I suppose the Award Room shall have a new display soon," Dumbledore said as Harry laid the goblin-forged silver blade on the Headmaster's desk.

"A Slytherin drew Gryffindor's sword. This is some kind of blasphemy," Tom muttered.

"The other two Horcruxes?" Dumbledore inquired.

"The Gaunt Family ring, which had the Resurrection Stone set in it, not that Tom knew. And his school diary," Harry answered.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "Harry… I don't suppose I could examine the Stone, just for a few moments."

Harry sighed and pulled the Stone from his pocket. "Fine, say you're sorry for getting your sister killed. But I don't think it counts as becoming Master of Death unless you're wearing the Cloak while holding the Stone and Wand."

"You must tell me where you got your sources, Tom," Dumbledore said as he took the Resurrection Stone in hand. He turned it three times and Harry noticed an invisible to him magical presence appear at Dumbledore's side. "Oh, Ariana," Dumbledore breathed out.

Harry stuck his fingers in his ears to provide some semblance of privacy. Dumbledore spoke for a few minutes back and forth with the spirit of his lost sister, and then he set the Stone back on the table. Harry took his fingers out and retrieved the Stone, setting it in the opposite pocket from his Philosopher's Stone. "Thank you, Harry. You've given me a gift I'll never be able to repay."

Harry shrugged. "Happy I could give you catharsis. Now all you need is to make up with Aberforth and for Gellert to get conjugal visits."

Dumbledore blushed. "We're both a bit old for that method of expressing love. I already visit him every time I attend the International Wizard Confederation meetings."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever, you do you. Thank you for letting me meet Mr. Flamel, Professor. See you at DADA class tomorrow!" With that, Harry left the room and made for the Room of Requirement.

Harry walked back and forth three times in front of the wall, asking for the room his friends were using. The door appeared and Harry walked into a scene out of a tropical postcard. Palm trees swayed on a sandy beach leading to a cool, blue pool designed to mimic the appearance of the ocean. His friends were all in bathing suits and laughing as they engaged in beach fun.

"Hi, Harry!" Hermione called out, running up to him.

"I see you've been getting creative with the room. Not bad at all. Where do I change?" Harry asked with a grin.

The Ravenclaw waved at a striped changing tent near the 'wall' which was painted to look like a continuation of the beach. "Over there, there should be a suit your size in there."

Harry quickly got changed, casting protection charms over his clothes out of habit, and joined his friends in their impromptu day at the beach. They made sand castles, Harry cheating by using magic to make a sand Hogwarts. They laughed and swam in the water which was actually salty. They played a few games of beach volleyball once Hermione and Harry had taught the rules to their wizard friends. Finally, they passed out exhausted on the sand.

"So, Harry, what did Dumbledore want with you?" Neville asked when they sat back up.

Harry grinned bright as the sun. "Nicholas Flamel came to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone. He let me study it, and I conjured my own copy! Isn't that great?"

Daphne snapped her neck looking at Harry. "Wait… you conjured a copy? Just like that?"

"Yeah. Think the Gemino Charm but permanent. I used by magic to fold matter and energy into the same thing as the Philosopher's Stone and got my own version. What's wrong with that?" Harry asked.

"You do realize that permanent Conjuration is considered one of the pinnacles of magical ability, right?" Blaise asked incredulous. "And that's for stuff like armchairs, let alone a Philosopher's Stone."

Harry Summoned the Stone from his pocket and tossed it on the sand in between them all. "Check it yourselves if you don't believe me."

The five 11-year-olds stared at the Stone like it was, well, a Philosopher's Stone. "We need something metal!" Ron cried out. The Room promptly produced an old pewter cauldron. With cautious reverence, Ron took the Stone and touched it to the cauldron. There was a small 'zap' of magical energy and then the whole cauldron was gleaming bright yellow in the light.

"Jesus! Harry, do you realize what this means?" Hermione demanded.

"That I could oversaturate the gold market by visiting a junkyard and I have access to a panacea so long as I have access to water?" Harry asked rhetorically. "It's a Philosopher's Stone, you guys, I'm aware of how lucrative it is. And you're all welcome to use it, so long as you ask me permission first."

Ron had Galleons in his eyes. "Harry, please, oh please, let me have some gold. My family could really use it!"

Harry grinned. "I'll be sure to make your birthday present something your family will talk about for years to come."

They all gushed over the Stone for a few more minutes and then got back to regular beach shenanigans. They finally rinsed off and changed back into robes at the dinner bell, having thoroughly enjoyed their Sunday. Harry ate and then decided on an early night, making it to his room and locking both Stones in the safe in his trunk. That done, he talked with Tom a little while before getting ready for bed.

The next week passed unremarkably. On Saturday, Harry attended the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw game to see what it was like to be in the stands for once. The game eventually went to Hufflepuff, the fourth-year Seeker Cedric Diggory proving victorious. Harry was sad to see Cho Chang lose, but Cedric was a decent guy from what Neville told. And unless Harry was very much mistaken, he thought he saw a spark between the two Seekers. So both were out of the running in his personal quest for romance.

Harry consoled himself that afternoon by, under Snape's supervision, producing a cauldron full of Elixir of Life and going about trying to reverse-engineer it. If they could come up with an actual recipe instead of 'dunk Philosopher's Stone in water', they'd go down in Potions history. Harry and Snape cast every analytical spell on the reddish-gold liquid they could, Harry making detailed notes on what he saw with his Mage Sight. Then they set about separating it into ten batches and slating each one for a different experiment to work out the make-up of the potion. Harry only wished that the wizarding world had the equivalent of a mass spectrometer.

On the fourth week of November, the Hogwarts students got a bit of a shock when there was a new face at the Head Table. Harry blinked as he recognized the man from memories Tom had witnessed when Legillimensing Pettigrew. He walked right up to the Head Table and asked "Uncle Moony?"

Remus Lupin jumped like a muggle who'd just seen a ghost. "Harry… I'm surprised you recognized me."

"I have Occlumency, I remember when I was one. You used to play with me all the time!" Harry said brightly. "And now I suppose you're our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"Yes. Albus offered me the post very suddenly. Shame about what happened to Quirrell. Possessed by a spirit, he said at his trial. Still, he did terrible things and he paid the price for them," the werewolf said decisively.

Harry nodded. "Well, looking forward to your class. Maybe we can catch up sometime. See you, Professor Lupin!" Harry waved before going to the Table where his friends had gathered.

"How do you know the new professor?" Hermione asked.

"He's one of the Marauders, my dad's old band of friends. He was supposed to be like an uncle to me, but then the whole Voldemort thing happened and I was sent to live with the Dursleys. Nice to see him now, and I'll definitely have to lift the curse on the DADA position. He could use a steady job," Harry told the group.

"No kidding, he looks poor as a churchmouse," Neville commented, eyeing the patchy robes Lupin was wearing.

"A Marauder? The twins won't be able to help themselves. They'll double their pranking to try and impress him!" Ron said with horror.

Daphne shuddered at the prospect. "Surely he'll put a stop to them? I mean, he's a professor now."

"Once a Marauder, always a Marauder," Harry said with a shrug. "Coin toss whether he nips it in the bud or gives them pointers."

Blaise gulped. "Harry, you'll protect us from the twins, right?"

"If you ask nicely. Though the ability to laugh at yourself is said to be key to a fully-lived life," Harry said airily.

The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs endured their weekly nap session with Professor Binns that Monday morning, followed by their first lesson with Professor Lupin. He started the class by introducing himself and asking a bit about every one of them. That done, he gave them a defensive spell to practice on balloons he'd magically filled. They all had lots of fun trying to pop the balloons before they reached the ceiling, not often getting the chance to just let loose and cast. The lesson ended with a brief homework assignment and an instruction to practice on their own time. They all walked away feeling that Defense Against the Dark Arts would be much more fun with Lupin as the professor.

The month of November passed and December came with a flurry of snow and harsh winds. Most began to wear layers under their school robes, carrying mittens and extra socks in their pockets. The post owls needed tending to by Hagrid before they went back off, battering by the harsh Scottish winter. All except for Hedwig; she was so bolstered by the Familiar Bond with Harry that she had the raw magic to disregard the elements. Harry got some very exciting news about a week before term was set to end.

"My cousin was born! It's a girl! Violet Petunia Dursley!" Harry said, waving a baby picture of an exhausted but smiling Petunia in a hospital bed, cradling a pink-headed bundle. Uncle Vernon and Dudley stood off to the side smiling proudly and excitedly.

"Oh, Dudley looks so happy to be a big brother," Hermione remarked with a blush that could have been blamed on the cold air of the Great Hall. Harry declined to comment on the possibility that his first (human) friend fancied his cousin.

"The photograph isn't moving… weird," Blaise said when he got a turn to look.

"It's a muggle photo, Blaise, of course it's still. You really look nothing like your family, Harry," Daphne commented.

"I took after my dad in every way except for the eyes. Not a lot of Evans in me, and only half in Dudley and Violet," Harry explained.

"I told my mum that your aunt was expecting. They might be getting a bunch of hand-knitted baby clothes in the muggle mail," Ron warned his friend.

"That's sweet. I'll have to thank your Mum when I visit over the holidays," Harry said.

"Change of plans, my parents and Ginny are taking a trip to Romania to see Charlie. I'll be staying here," Ron said with a shrug.

"Oh, sorry, Ron. The rest of us are all going home. Are you going to be okay?" Neville asked, concerned.

The Gryffindor sighed. "It won't be so bad. I'll have the twins and Percy to hang out with. Maybe we can use this opportunity to get some brotherly bonding… oh, who am I kidding? I'm just going to play chess with whoever agrees to play me."

"I hear Professor McGonagall was a bit of chess prodigy. You might as well ask her. I mean, she is your Head of House, she should make time to bond with her students," Harry argued.

"Malfoy at 8 o'clock," Blaise muttered as the blond aristocrat strolled over, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy looked like he'd been forced to suck a lemon.

"Harry Potter, I cordially invite you to my family's Yule Ball, to be held at 8:00 pm on December 24th. Dress robes are expected. One guest is allowed. No RSVP is required. We'll all be happy to see you there," Draco said through gritted teeth.

Harry nodded back. "I'll be pleased to be there, Draco. Do send my best wishes to your parents."

Duty done, Draco retreated back to the Slytherin Table, which he refused to eat anywhere but. Pansy Parkinson, his personal cheerleader, welcomed him with a grin as the two thugs returned to their third helpings of breakfast.

"I know that Tom is just Tom and not You-Know-Who anymore, but is it still wise to wander into the house of a Death Eater unaccompanied?" Hermione hissed once Draco was out of earshot.

Harry rose a brow. "Who said I'll be unaccompanied? I think it's high time Sirius had an outing from St. Mungo's, don't you?"

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