AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 14: Choice

Harry felt his scar burn in response to the cold voice. He felt his fingers hurt as he gripped his wand tighter. "Professor?" he questioned as he prepared to curse Quirrell.

"Now, now, Potter," Professor Quirrell cautioned and sat back farther in his chair. The tip of a wand appeared above the table top, aimed at Harry.

Harry froze and gritted his teeth. "You attacked me, professor," he spat as he started to put the clues together. "You've faked your stutter all year and pointed me at Snape and the Slytherins in the first place. That is how you knew where to find me after I was attacked, you cast the spell."

A cold smile greeted his answer. "Smart, Potter," Quirrell murmured. "I wanted your eyes on the Slytherins and away from poor stuttering Professor Quirrell. I have never been an accomplished dueler. You surprised me a great many times by your quick reactions and athletic skill in the narrow corridors. My Master was most displeased with me on multiple occasions. It can be hard to serve my Master," he said in a soft voice.

"DO NOT MOVE, Potter," the professor ordered with narrowed eyes. "Place your wand on the desk. I will know if you try to attack me. At this range, I can't miss."

Harry narrowed his eyes and complied in slow motions. After placing his wand on the desk, Quirrell told him to scoot his chair back farther. The professor watched with a satisfied look on his face. "Good, good, now where was I?"

"You were meant to die many times this year, Master ordered it. When my spell finally caught you in the corridor, you somehow managed to live. The last spell on the paper I gave you was the very spell you should have died to. The others… well… we wouldn't be talking now if you'd tried them," Quirrell said with a malicious grin. "After your incident in the forest with my Imperiused pawns, your survival became necessary to my Master's plans. You see Dumbledore hid something in the school, given to him for safekeeping. The stone that would give my Master eternal life. With his instruction, we completed the tasks Dumbledore had a few of us teachers devise. Simple, yet effective enchantments and tests. However, when we got to the end, I couldn't get the stone. Master then decided on a different approach, you."

Harry listened and tried to connect the dots. "Eternal life?" he questioned as things fell into place. "Nicholas Flamel, Professor Dumbledore's friend, created the Philosopher's Stone. It is rumored to provide eternal life to its drinker. Hagrid must have taken it from the vault and you tried to steal it from Gringotts. You were the one who broke in!"

"Very good, very good," Quirrell seemed amused. "It will take a few minutes for the next part of the plan to unfold, so please continue telling me what I already know."

Not listening, Harry focused on his train of thought. "Imperiused pawns must have been Crabbe and Goyle. Wait, there was a Slytherin boy who had the same blank faced look and the Ravenclaw boy as well," he guessed as his mind spiraled. "You were going to use them to kill me, put the blame on them, and no one would have known differently."

"I have never been as powerful as my Master. He scolded me and punished me for my incomplete Imperius curses. Go on," the professor said with a dark look in his eye.

"Your Master is Voldemort," Harry declared with a scowl. "I saw him in the forest… wait that was you!"

Quirrell laughed, a hard edge to his cackling laugh. "Yes, it was me. I couldn't kill you in the forest, but I was going to make you suffer for interrupting my Master's ritual. The blood of a unicorn is useful for more than keeping someone alive, even with the wretched curse.

"Crabbe or Goyle would have killed you, playing on your petty childhood squabbles between you and Draco Malfoy. My Master is indeed The Dark Lord and he will rise to power again. Your luck has run out. You lived ten years after you were supposed to have died, tonight I will rectify that for my Master," Quirrell finished and waved his wand.

Harry tensed, expecting something to happen. He felt relieved when nothing happened. "You said something about a next step?" he said, trying to stall for time.

"Yes, my pawn should bring your friends to the third-floor corridor. If you so much as breathe a word to them in warning. I will torture them and kill the Mudblood first. Her death will be on your hands. If you defy me, warn them in any way, then I will continue with the Blood-traitor and finally your friend Neville. Pure-blood sacrifices can be made for Master's power," Quirrell warned as he stood. "Pick up your wand, Potter. You are going on an adventure."

The professor lit his wand and took a moment to practice his stutter again. Harry slid his wand into his robes at the madman's instruction and led the way to the third-floor corridor. His heart lurched as he turned the corridor and saw four students waiting by a heavy oak door.

"Harry, Sara was telling us about a post-exam trial? I didn't realize Hogwarts gave out extra credit," Hermione gushed as she made her way to him. Ron looked bemused and annoyed at being dragged out of the tower. Neville looked lost as he looked between Harry and Professor Quirrell. "Who was it, Harry? Who attacked you?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"The professor told me but I'll tell everyone after we do the extra credit assignment. Sorry, Ron and Neville, but the professor said there had to be four participants from each year to enter," he lied with a small shrug.

"What about Dean and Seamus?" Ron asked with a frown. "They wouldn't be able to do the extra credit then."

Harry faltered but continued with the lie. "I think they'll be paired with Lavender and Parvati," he lied and tried to keep his face blank. "The faster we get this done, the faster we can go to bed," he said with a smile. Ron nodded and Neville looked relieved. Hermione narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"C-C-Come, we'll b-b-begin the test. If at a-a-any time you feel you c-c-can't continue. Yell out and I w-w-will save you," Professor Quirrell stuttered. Harry felt a wave of loathing for the professor as his scar throbbed.

Ron tried the door and shrugged. "It's locked," he said by way of explanation. He took out his wand and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora," he said and pointed at the lock. With a click, the door opened toward Ron.

The sound of snoring filled their ears as they peered in the open door. A massive three-headed dog lay on the floor, fast asleep. At Neville's gasp, one eye on the farthest head opened slowly.

"Hagrid said Fluffy went to sleep with music, does anyone have a flute? Mine is in my trunk!" Harry cried as he stared at the massive dog waking up.

"N-n-no," Hermione and Neville stuttered at the same time.

Harry ripped off a piece of his robes and focused hard on the cloth in his hands. He tried to imagine the flute Hagrid gave him, with three little holes and the mouthpiece at the top. With a wave of his wand, he cast the closest spell he could think of to change the piece of fabric into a rough approximation of the wooden flute. The dark, ash wood flute felt light in his hand as he put it to his lips. He blew and tried to find some semblance of a tune with no practice or true idea of what he was doing.

"You've m-m-met this Cerberus?" Professor Quirrell questioned as he turned to Harry.

Harry didn't answer as he continued to try to play a tune. The now growling and snarling three-headed dog started to calm down before sinking back to the floor, its eyes drooping closed.

"That was close… and scary," Ron gasped and shuddered. "Can we pass on this extra credit?" he questioned as he turned to Harry and Hermione.

Harry shot his friend a pointed look as he continued to play and shook his head. The flute made an odd sound and caused Fluffy to grumble in its sleep. Ron asked no more questions.

"There is a trapdoor in the middle of the room," Hermione said in a quiet voice. She pointed with her wand at a sunken wooden door in the floor by one of the dog's paws.

"Can we not and say we did?" Ron muttered and pointed his wand at Fluffy as he inched closer.

Neville followed behind Ron and Hermione as he looked back at Harry, still playing the flute. Harry tried not to look his friend in the eyes, knowing his face might reveal the truth. They opened the trapdoor and poked their heads down the hatch. "It's dark," Neville said with a frown. "Lumos," he called and stuck his wand down the trapdoor. "Too far down to see anything," he said to Harry.

Harry tried to pantomime while playing the flute. His throat was getting dry and it was becoming harder to play. He used the flute to act like he was shooting something down the hatch. At their confused looks, he stopped playing the flute. "Shoot some sparks down there," he said as fast as he could and started to play again. He saw Fluffy's eyes flutter in the short time it took him to speak.

Hermione shot red sparks down the hatch with a sheepish grin. The four of them watched the light from the sparks as it hit the bottom. Something moved around in the brief moment before the light went out.

"Devil's Snare," Neville said with a smile. "It's quite soft and will cushion our fall. Use red sparks or Incendio to make the plant let you go. Try not to hurt it too much, please," he whispered as he jumped down the open hatch.

Harry watched as his friends disappeared down the trapdoor. "Well done, Potter. Quick thinking. Now, to remove the witness," Professor Quirrell said and turned to Sara. Her glassy eyes stared at them as Quirrell pointed his wand at her. "Obliviate," he cried. A green spell hit the Gryffindor girl in the face. Her eyes went wide. The professor waved his wand again, causing the girl to collapse to the floor.

Harry cried out, forgetting about the flute. "You killed her!" he accused.

"No, I can't kill every student tonight. Dumbledore has been keeping an annoyingly close watch on his pupils, you especially. Crabbe and Goyle getting caught while under the effects of my Imperius curse has made him wary. She is merely unconscious," Quirrell said and moved her still form outside the door. He closed the door behind him and locked it with a charm. Harry went back to playing his flute when he realized Fluffy was waking again. "After you, Potter," Quirrell sneered and pushed Harry into the open hole in the floor.

Harry screamed as he fell and hit something soft and wet. "Incendio," he muttered and guided his flame around him. The Devil's Snare's vines retreated from him and opened a small hole for him to slide through. He landed beside his friends. Before he could say anything, Professor Quirrell dropped to the floor beside them, his turban askew.

"This way, I suppose," Harry muttered and led the way to the only door in the lit corridor.

The door opened with no trouble to reveal a massive room with glittering specks flying around a central pillar. There were three brooms affixed to the base of the pillar. The group walked to the pillar, their wands out and pointing into the darkness. They tried the door on the other side of the room and found it locked. The Unlocking Charm did not work this time. "What are those flashing things in the air?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron looked up and squinted. Neville looked at the floor. "They are keys," he muttered.

"Yeah, they are," Ron said with a frown. "OH! One of the keys opens the door. We have to use the brooms to get it!"

"V-V-Very good, Mr. Weasley," Professor Quirrell said with a smile. "C-C-Choose who will f-f-fly to get the k-k-key," the professor said as he stood in front of the locked door.

Harry gritted his teeth as he gave Ron and Hermione a sharp look. He saw confusion on their faces but quickly answered, "Ron will get the key." He flashed a grin at his friend.

It took Ron a little time to find and catch the only silver key among the sea of bronze ones. Hermione gave Harry a piercing look as they watched Ron flying around the large room. It took a few minutes before Ron was able to catch the key. With a triumphant yell, he landed by the door and passed the key to Hermione. Harry was about to say something when a flash of light flew over his shoulder. Neville pitched forward. "NO!" Harry cried and turned, drawing his wand. Ron got hit with another flash of light a moment later, slumping to the floor with a confused look on his face.

Hermione screamed and shot a spell at Quirrell. Harry completed his turn and shot a spell at the professor too. Quirrell blocked both spells with ease. "What did we talk about, Potter!" he asked in a laughing, cruel voice, "cease or she dies!"

"Hermione, stop!" Harry called but didn't lower his wand.

"I'm running out of time, Dumbledore the, great fool, will realize the Ministry didn't need him in a little bit. We must speed this up. Your friends are not dead, yet. If you fail to do as I want, I will kill them," Quirrell promised with a grin.

Hermione trembled as she stared between Harry and Quirrell. "Let's… let's get this over with," Harry mumbled and took Hermione by the arm. "It'll be okay once Quirrell gets the Philosopher's Stone," he explained.

"No talking and put away your wands. If either of you draws your wand again I will kill the Mudblood. Please give me a reason to do so, Harry. I will finish the rest of these tests," Quirrell ordered, keeping his wand aimed at the pair.

Harry and Hermione led the way as they entered the next room. A large chess set sat on either side. He saw humanoid figures with blank faces for each of the pieces. Harry wondered if they had to play to get across. Quirrell began to chant behind them, causing him to tense up. He felt Hermione tense beside him as they looked back at the professor. He waved his wand and muttered under his breath. Harry caught a "yes Master" more than once during the minute they waited.

The white king on the other side of the chessboard fell to his knees and toppled over, exploding into white shards of stone. "Go to the other door," Quirrell ordered and pushed Hermione forward. She stumbled and Harry caught her.

Two massive Mountain Trolls sat on either side of the wide room. One picked their nose while the other tested his club against his head. A hollow thumping sound echoed around the large room with every hit of the club. The smell of putrid awful assaulted his nose as his eyes began to water. Between his head hurting from his scar and the smell, he felt like throwing his hands up and walking away, regardless of the cost. When he remembered his friends and the danger he'd placed them in, he calmed down and fought to think through his headache.

Quirrell stepped in front of them and waved his wand. The club in one of the troll's hands wrapped itself around the troll's neck and squeezed. Harry could hear the wood splinter and crack as it dug into the troll's throat. With another flick of his wand, Quirrell caused the other troll's club to lift off the ground and begin to club itself over the troll's head. Meaty thunks echoed around the room as the troll tried to get a hold of his club. Another flick and the ground became slick, causing the struggling trolls to fall. The gasping troll tried to get to its feet but sunk back to the floor, its eyes bulging.

Hermione covered her eyes as the club brained the second troll to death. Wet squishes echoed around the room as the club continued its relentless assault well after the troll had gone still. Harry's stomach lurched as he watched bits of green gore splatter against the wall. "Useful things, trolls," Quirrell said conversationally and led them to the next room.

"You let the troll in on Halloween," Harry accused. The professor laughed and continued on without answering.

A row of seven differently shaped potion bottles sat on a small table in a line. One bottle lay on its side, facing the black fire that had sprung up on the other side of the room to block the door. "Severus does like his riddles and dark magic," Quirrell chuckled and waved his wand. "This test pleased my Master," he added as he strode into the room.

The black fire dimmed and after a minute disappeared. "Come, the last challenge awaits you, Potter."

They entered the last room, causing the torches along the circular room to spring to life. A warm, comfortable feeling spread through Harry's chest as he thought he smelled a faint hint of lemon. "I know how the Mirror of Erised works, however, you must discover how to get the Stone," Quirrell demanded and shoved Harry to the center of the room.

"Oh… no," Harry gasped as he realized what the professor said.

"You've had some experience with the mirror before?" Quirrell asked as he dragged Hermione to one side, pointing his wand at her face. "Cooperate and she doesn't die, Harry," he warned.

Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded to Hermione and gave her his best confident smile. It felt forced and fake. "Step into the mirror, tell me what you see," Quirrell ordered.

Harry stepped in front of the mirror and fought to keep his heart from hammering out of his chest. "I see," he started but a muffled voice echoed around the chamber.

"DO NOT LIE," the voice hissed, a cold, cruel edge to the voice. Harry shivered and felt his scar burn. "Let me speak to the boy first," the voice continued.

"You are not strong enough, Master," Quirrell pleaded.

"I have strength enough… for this! Obey me!" the voice hissed and Quirrell screamed. He dropped to his knees and took a ragged breath before unwrapping his turban.

Harry fought the desire to rush the professor but stopped when he noticed Quirrell's wand still pointed at Hermione. The purple turban fell away to reveal Quirrell's bald head. He stood and took a step toward Harry. Hermione gasped and shrunk back in fear. Quirrell turned and Harry saw what Hermione had. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, a face replaced it. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. Two dark eyes stared at Harry and a small gash near Quirrell's neck stretched into a sneer.

"Harry… Potter… we meet again," the voice hissed.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered and fought down his churning stomach. The disfigured face looked revolting.

"See what I have become?" Voldemort asked. "Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share a body with another… but there have always been faithful servants willing to share their hearts and minds. Unicorn blood strengthened my waning power and kept me sustained for the past few weeks. All of it leading up to this. Potter, retrieve the stone or I will kill this Mudblood girl like I killed your mother! She begged to save you, begged like your father did."

Harry fought the searing pain in his forehead. "I… I…" he stammered and stumbled backward toward the mirror. The blinding pain made it hard for him to think.

"Don't be a fool," the twisted face snarled. "Get the Stone, boy."

Harry turned trying to fight his urge to run, to attack, to do something other than stand there as his friend was being threatened. He looked in the mirror, unafraid of his past, more afraid of the future. The glass shimmered and cleared, the silvery mist behind the glass dissipating. A mirror image of himself stood looking back at him. His reflection morphed into an older version of himself with a goatee and a scar running across one cheek. He thought he looked battle worn, like many of the grizzled veterans that guest spoke at Providence. A young boy appeared beside the older version of himself. Frankie's round-face split into a wide grin.

"What do you see?" Voldemort hissed from almost beside Harry.

Harry could feel the cold, dark void beside him. Quirrell had approached without him realizing. "I see an older version of myself. I look powerful," he muttered as he watched Frankie pull something out of his pocket. A blood-red stone appeared in the boy's pudgy hands. He slipped it into the older version of Harry's pocket.

"What else!" the cold voice demanded.

Harry froze as he felt the weight of something heavy fall into his pocket. In that moment, time stopped for him. His heart froze, his vision was reduced to a narrow pinprick of light, as he realized he had to make a decision. A grizzled voice spoke into his ear, a faint whisper of a memory.

"There are no winners in many hostage situations. They deployed us to get back those families trapped in the hotel. Everything we did was in vain. However, we fought, we fought and destroyed those evil men and avenged those poor people."

Time sped back up as his vision cleared. He knew Voldemort wanted him dead, knew how weakened the Dark Lord was. "I have it," he called and reached into his pocket.

"Yesssss," Voldemort hissed. "Give it to me," he ordered.

Harry turned to see Quirrell point his wand away from Hermione as he turned around. "RUN!" he screamed at Hermione and charged at Quirrell.

The hand-to-hand practice, dormitory beatings, shower scuffles, malicious taunts, and the knowledge Quirrell had burned him fueled his rage and purpose. He caught the professor by surprise as he punched with all his might at the softest, most vulnerable spot on a man's body. Harry felt his fist slide off the meaty thigh of his opponent as Quirrell turned toward him. Something soft gave way under his knuckles a moment later.

"KILL THEM BOTH!" Voldemort cried from the back of Quirrell's head as the professor mewled in agony, his legs buckling.

Harry grabbed for Quirrell's outstretched hand clutching his wand. He used his open palm, like Instructor Elliot had taught him, to hit the professor in the nose. He'd intended to disorient and stun Quirrell, but realized with a gasp his attack left a burn mark on the wizard's face. Quirrell screamed in agony as he clutched his face, dropping his wand.

"Run!" Harry yelled at Hermione when he saw her standing by the door. She jumped and bolted from the room. He intended to follow, but a hand grabbed at his leg. His scar burned and throbbed, causing him to cry out.

"THE STONE! GIVE IT TO ME!" Voldemort screeched from the back of Quirrell's head. Quirrell was screaming in pain and seemed unaware of what his body was doing.

Harry grabbed Quirrell's hand latched onto his leg and watched with horror and satisfaction as it burned. His scar blazed with pain as Quirrell's other hand tried to grab at Harry's robes. Blisters and boils appeared as the hand turned black. The skin was rent open as fire seemed to blossom from Quirrell's veins. Harry screamed with Quirrell as his head felt like it would burst open. He gasped and fell beside the flailing body of his professor.

"KILL HIM! THE STONE!" Voldemort's voice kept screaming through Harry's pain. He thought he heard other voices calling him as well, "Harry! HARRY!"

XXXXX

"… will need more rest," a stern voice said, bringing Harry out of his dream about blood-red stones and beatings at Providence. His body ached and his head felt like someone had split it open with a mallet. The recent events started to piece themselves back into his memory. He felt like vomiting when he sat up.

"Easy, there," a warm voice called.

Harry felt two strong hands hold his chest and back as his vision returned. He turned his head to look into the bright, twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "Uh," he muttered, trying to make sense of everything.

"Good afternoon, Harry," the Headmaster said with a small smile. "I understand you had quite the adventure."

Harry felt his eye twitch at the word adventure. "The stone, sir! Voldemort! HERMIONE!" he cried out as pictures popped into his head.

"Calm yourself, dear boy. You are a little behind the times," Dumbledore said with a smile. He leaned back and removed his hands from Harry's chest and back. "Lay back and relax, everything has been handled. You having done most of the work," he finished with a small chuckle.

"Hermione, Ron, Neville, Sara? Are they all okay?" Harry questioned looking into Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.

"They fared much better than you did. We have cleared Sara of any dark magic, Ron and Neville were merely unconscious, and Hermione is well. She is worried about you most of all. We all were for a while there."

"What happened?!" Harry asked, trying to sit back up again.

"Harry, please, calm down. I do not want to get thrown out by Madam Pomfrey. Here, have a piece of chocolate," Dumbledore said and passed a rather large bar of chocolate to Harry.

"Uh, thanks?" Harry said and took the bar. He noticed a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. A suspicious red and gold firecracker lay among the pile. He fought to contain a laugh that bubbled up.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore explained with a smile. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the entire school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley tried to send you a rather ingenious firecracker that happened to go off in the corridor. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, felt it might not have been safe and confiscated six other firecrackers from the pile."

"How long have I been here?" Harry asked as he goggled at the pile of cards, flowers, and small plants on another table.

"Three days," Dumbledore chuckled. "Your friends will be most relieved to know you've come round, they have been extremely worried."

"The Stone, sir, and Voldemort," Harry prompted.

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell or rather Voldemort did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to save you from a similar possession attempt by Voldemort. You however, were doing a very good job on your own, preventing him from getting it.

"He burned!" Harry gasped as more memories flooded in.

"Quirrell did," the Headmaster agreed with a slow nod. "Your mother's protection stays with you still against the Dark Lord's touch. She died saving you, old and powerful magic. Love is the single greatest magic we as wizards could ever perform."

"Love?" Harry questioned, unfamiliar with the concept behind the word. He knew what it meant but struggled to put feelings to the word itself. "You got the Stone back for Mr. Flamel?" Harry questioned.

"You know about Nicholas! Well done," Dumbledore said with a smile. "The Stone has been destroyed."

"WHAT?!" Harry cried out, horrified at the idea. The Philosopher's Stone grated eternal life, among other wondrous capabilities. "Won't they die?"

"To the young, I'm sure that seems incredible. Knowingly giving up eternal life. However, to Nicholas and Perenelle, who have been alive for a very long time, it is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. Eternal life and infinite wealth, two things many humans have striven for since the dawn of man; however, humans tend to choose precisely those things that are bad for them to reach such heights."

Harry sat back and tried to understand what the Headmaster was telling him. After a minute, during with Dumbledore hummed to himself, he asked the question most on his mind. "Professor?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Mhm, yes, Harry?" Dumbledore said, looking down at him over his half-moon spectacles.

"Voldemort is coming back, isn't he? He never truly died."

"Tom has been fascinated and deeply afraid of death since he was a student at Hogwarts. He will do everything in his power to return to the heights he achieved before his fall, yes," Dumbledore said in a low voice. Harry thought the old wizard sounded sad. "He shows little mercy to his followers and his enemies alike. Voldemort will continue to look for ways to return, to find another body to share. He is not truly alive and cannot be killed. This has delayed his return and Harry, the entire wizarding world owes you a debt of gratitude for delaying his return to power. If we can continue to delay his return over and over, well, he may never return and fade into nothing."

Harry nodded but stopped as it made his head hurt. "Sir," he asked and paused. "Sir, could I know the truth about a few things?"

"Ah! The truth," Dumbledore said just above a whisper. "The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and therefore should be treated with great caution. If it is in my power to tell you, I will. If I cannot, then, I must beg forgiveness as I do not want to lie to you."

"Uh… Voldemort said my mother begged to save me. Said my father begged to save me. You said she died to protect me. Why did Voldemort want to kill me?" Harry asked in a small voice as he clenched his fists.

"Alas, the first question you ask, I cannot answer. Not today, not yet. You will know, one day, again when you are older. When you are ready, I will tell you," the Headmaster answered with a sigh.

"What is older? What is ready? Why can't I know now?!" Harry asked, his voice getting louder.

"Calm, calm," Dumbledore soothed as he sat forward. "Some truths are not easy to bear, some truths could tear you apart from the inside. Worry not, I promise to tell you the whole story, just not now, not today."

"Why did I burn Quirrell?" he asked, trying to ignore his pounding head.

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize love as powerful as the one your mother had for you leaves its own mark. No visible sign, no magical trace… to be loved so deeply, even though they are gone will offer you protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so loved," Dumbledore answered with a small smile. "Your mother may have begged for your life, but your father put up a fight. He did not go quietly into that dark night."

"How about the Invisibility Cloak? Did you send it, sir?"

"Ah, your father left it in my possession shortly before they were attacked. I thought you might like it as he once did. He mainly used his for sneaking off into the kitchens while he was at school."

"One last thing, sir," Harry said, his chest tightening. "Quirrell talked about how Snape," he started but Professor Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore chided gently.

"The Potions Master, then. Quirrell said he hates me because my father humiliated him in school. I thought a lot of the attacks were caused by… Professor Snape."

"Well, your father and Professor Snape did rather detest each other. Not unlike you and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive. He saved his life."

"He did?!" Harry asked, trying to piece together the rough puzzle pieces of information he had.

"Yes, he did. Funny thing, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear to be in your father's debt. I do believe he worked so hard this year to protect you is because he felt it would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace."

Harry tried to wrap his head around the new information. He stopped after a minute and shook his head. The pain flared up again, causing him to groan. "Sir, one last thing, uh, again," he asked.

"Just the one?" Dumbledore said with a knowing grin.

"How did the stone get out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now that, I'm glad you asked. It was a difficult and between you and me, brilliant, piece of magic. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone, find it but not use it, would be able to get it. Otherwise they'd just see themselves making tons of gold or drinking the Elixir of Life. Sometimes, my brain surprises even me. Now, enough questions. You need rest and your friends are anxious to see you."

"Thank you, professor, for everything," Harry called as Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"You are most welcome. Learn, grow, and enjoy your time at Hogwarts. I believe I will see you once more before the end of term in a few days. Unless I am very much mistaken, you do not want to spend your summer bouncing from hotel to hotel, correct?"

"They have five minutes," Madam Pomfrey called from the other side of the room. Dumbledore left with a smile as Hermione, Ron, and Neville appeared by the curtains.

"Harry!" Hermione cried and moved to give him a hug. He was very glad she didn't when she saw the look on his face. His head was still sore.

"Oh, Harry, I thought you'd died. You were screaming and thrashing while, while, while he… he was trying to hover over your face," Hermione shuddered and crossed her arms.

"Mate, what happened?" Ron asked. Neville nodded in agreement at the question.

Harry told them the entire story from when he left the Gryffindor Common Room. They gasped and shouted when he explained Quirrell was the one that almost killed him. Hermione told her side of the story, becoming suspicious in the third-floor corridor but not knowing how to let Harry know. Ron and Neville looked pale and sick as Harry told the rest of the story. Hermione hadn't told them everything it seemed. When Harry got to the part about Voldemort ordering Harry to get the Stone or killing Hermione, Ron wrapped an arm around his friend. Hermione shuddered and tears leaked from her eyes.

"So… the Philosopher's Stone is gone? It's been destroyed? Nicholas Flamel will just, die?" Ron questioned.

"That's what Dumbledore said. He said something like 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

"Great-Uncle Algie mentioned his father said something like that before he passed," Neville said with a shrug. "Maybe it's true when you've lived for two hundred years like Great-Great-Grand… oh, I can't remember if he was Grandfather or Uncle, Frankus did." Harry laughed and noticed Hermione smiled.

"I met Dumbledore as he came out of the room with the trolls. He took one look at me and bounded past with a scared look on his face. He shouted something and I went back to look. He chased V-V-Voldemort off you, scooped you up in his arms and ran. I helped Ron and Neville as Professor McGonagall appeared to carry us back up to the Hospital Wing," Hermione said as she finished the last bit of her story. Everyone was quiet for a time.

"End-of-year feast is tomorrow. Slytherins won this year by twenty points over Hufflepuff. Everyone was shocked Hufflepuff did so well this year. At least we'll get a good dinner before we head home," Ron said as his stomach growled in agreement.

"Everyone, I want to say..." Harry started and stopped as he gathered his thoughts. "I want to say sorry you got involved in Quirrell and Voldemort's plan," he ignored the shudders that ran through his friends. "I wanted to warn you, but, didn't want anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to say thank you for your support."

"We didn't do anything, mate. We thought it was some dumb extra credit assignment we couldn't say no to," Ron said with a hoarse laugh.

"We'd be there for you even if it wasn't," Neville interjected with a small smile. "We're your friends, Harry." Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Still, thank you," Harry finished and smiled.

The professors decorated the Great Hall in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. More banners hung high in the air above the House tables. As Harry entered, the entire Great Hall fell silent before booming to life as everyone started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat beside Neville, who sat across from Ron and Hermione. His neck prickled as he tried to ignore the stares from everyone in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore arrived minutes later and took his place at the small podium in front of the High Table. The Great Hall quietened down and became silent.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said with a wide smile. "I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are a little fuller than they were. You have a whole summer ahead of you to forget what you've learned before the next year starts," he said and paused as laughter scattered through the hall.

"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and twelve; in third, Gryffindor, with four hundred and twenty-three; second, Hufflepuff, with four hundred and fifty-two and Slytherin with four hundred and seventy-two!"

The Slytherin table cheered and stamped their feet. Draco Malfoy banged his goblet on the table. Harry laughed at the sight but was one of the few in the Great Hall that did.

"Well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore said with a smile. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The hall went very still. The Slytherin's froze as they looked toward the Gryffindor table and at Harry in particular. Harry felt his smile falter.

"Ahem," Dumbledore said as he cleared his throat. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let's see. Yes, to Mrs. Hermione Granger for the use of cool logic and a desire to save her friends in a desperate situation, I award ten points."

The Gryffindor table burst into cheers. Hermione blushed and hid her face as Ron patted her on the back, cheering louder. The table fell silent when the Headmaster spoke again.

"To Mr. Ronald Weasley," Dumbledore continued. Ron's face went red as he goggled at the Headmaster. "For skill and nerve in the face of the unknown, I award ten points."

The shouts from the Gryffindor table were louder as Harry beamed at his friend. He heard Percy shouting how Ron had gotten past Professor Flitwick's test on the broom.

"To Mr. Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore said over the din. "For knowledge and courage to jump into the fire, I award ten points!"

Neville looked like he wanted to faint as he slid under the table. Fred and George appeared and pulled him out from under the table. They carried him on their shoulders and shouted his name. A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest at the sight.

"Finally," Dumbledore called. The entire room went quiet. Harry realized Gryffindor had taken second place by one point over Hufflepuff. It looked like others in the Great Hall had realized this fact as well. "To Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore called and looked Harry in the eye. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House…" the entire room held its breath, "twenty points!"

Harry's ears hurt from the screams and cries of the Gryffindors around him. He felt bodies push him down onto the bench as his fellow House mates piled on top of him. Laughing and cursing them, he pushed them off and grinned. They'd won the House Cup by one point.

"I believe, we need a change of decoration!" Dumbledore called over the noise. Ravenclaws and even Hufflepuffs were celebrating the downfall of the Slytherins. With a wave of his wand, all the banners in the hall changed into the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor with the proud lion standing in the middle. The green decorations around the hall became scarlet and the table cloths became gold.

Harry enjoyed himself despite his pounding head. He joked and laughed with his friends and House mates. Harry talked with a few of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he'd befriend over the course of the year and ate until he couldn't walk. He and Snape locked eyes and he realized the Potion's Master still disliked him. All was well. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins looked livid. Harry noticed Daphne looked amused by the entire event.

"Headmaster, you wanted to see me?" Harry asked as he stepped into the Headmaster's Office. He'd received a summons at breakfast the day they were to leave for summer.

"Ah, yes! Come, sit," Dumbledore called as he took a seat by the fireplace.

Harry sat and looked at the old wizard. He remembered Ron telling him that Dumbledore was his magical guardian. "Sir?"

"We spoke in the Hospital Wing about your living arrangements. I have taken the liberty of asking a friend if she would be interested in having you over the summer," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I had the distinct feeling you did not want to live in the Leaky Cauldron or go back to your life of bouncing between hotels, am I correct?"

"Yes, very much, professor! I liked it at the Leaky Cauldron, but I don't think Tom liked having me there," Harry admitted with a laugh. He thought about what Maria had told him.

"Tom is not one to have high-profile wizards stay with him for long periods of time. No matter, I believe Mrs. Molly Weasley has offered to take you in for the summer. Does that agree with you?"

"Yes! I could spend more time with Ron and the twins," Harry said, sitting up in his chair. "Unless, could I just stay here and you know, use the library?"

"I'm afraid it is against school policy for anyone to remain at Hogwarts after the term has ended," Dumbledore answered with a piercing look at Harry. "I'm glad you agree with me that spending time with the Weasley family will be a good thing. Now, I believe you have yet to receive your final marks."

"I think we get them before we board the train or we get them tomorrow, sir?" Harry questioned looking at the envelope Dumbledore had produced from his robes.

"Correct on both accounts. However, I'm taking the liberty to give you your marks now. Please do not tell anyone else, as someone could see it as favoritism," Dumbledore said with a wink. He passed a heavy envelope to Harry, which reminded him of two other heavy envelopes he'd received.

"Professor, I just remember," Harry muttered and dug into his robes. He pulled out the letter Quirrell had sent him through the Imperiused Sara. "Quirrell said the last spell on this list was the one that caused my burns. Is there a way to reverse them?"

Professor Dumbledore's face became serious as he took the envelope from Harry and inspected it. He drew his wand and waved it over the front. "Curious, very curious," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, what is curious?" Harry asked as he peered at the envelope, wondering what he'd missed about it.

"The rune used to seal the wax is an Unknown. It represents Darkness, Death, and the number Seven in the Runic Alphabet. Seven is a magically powerful number. Darkness is what Tom thrives off of and fears Death. A strange and fitting rune for him to use. The parchment was not bewitched to do you any harm, something I am greatful for," Dumbledore answered. He withdrew the parchments and read both of them. His face turned darker as he read the parchment with the spells on it.

"I am very glad you didn't try to use any of these. If you had, well, you'd have only gotten to the second spell. Even if you hadn't tried too hard to cast it, the first spell is a trap. A magic trap that would have placed a curse on your body. Without an identifier object, something to attach the spell to, it would have latched onto yourself. The second spell would have caused the trap to spring. I'm sorry to say, it would have been a gruesome way to die," Dumbledore finished with a sigh. "The last spell is not spell I've ever encountered. I believe Quirrell may have made it up or one of Tom's creations. I would like to keep this list for safekeeping."

"Please do! I don't want that list!" Harry gasped as he pulled his head back. "Uh, thank you for telling me, sir." Harry debated for a moment before asking his second question. "Sir?" he asked as he stood.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore said as he stood.

"Why was I missing for three years when the Hogwarts letter found me?" Harry asked as he pocketed the letter the Headmaster had given him.

"Ah, I wondered if you would make the connection. You see, I tried using the Magical Post, through the Ministry to find you. The only problem was, you never touched the letters we sent. I'm sure someone at Providence Preparatory Boarding School was annoyed at receiving a veritable ton of letters addressed to a one, Mr. H. Potter. Something else I didn't account for was what school they sent you to. You see, the last wizarding war affected more than wizards. The, then, Prime Minister of Britain sent his only son to a preparatory school. Multiple Muggle schools were warded and given Ministry level protection to throw off any Death Eaters from finding where children of prominent government officials lived. It saved many lives then and helped hide you from the wizarding world for three years." Dumbledore smiled and spread his hands. "It took me some time to unravel everything after I found you again. For not finding you sooner, I apologize," he said with a bow.

"Thank you for finding me, Professor Dumbledore. I love magic and being at Hogwarts," Harry answered and waved off the old wizard's apology.

"Enjoy your night and your summer, Harry," Dumbledore said as he stood. "I also want to say, very well done," he finished with a beaming smile and a sparkle in his eye. The Headmaster's eyes fell to the letter in Harry's pocket.

Harry waited to open his exam results until he was with his friends. Their letters were sitting on their trunks at the foot of their beds as they packed to leave for the Hogwarts Express. All the wardrobes were empty, trunks were packed, and pets rounded up as the students headed down to the platform.

"How did you do?!" Hermione asked in a rush as she caught up with Ron, Harry, and Neville.

"Haven't looked yet," Harry said with a laugh and patted his robe pocket. He noticed Hermione's scandalized look and had to slap her hand away from trying to reach in his robe. "Hey!"

"Come on! I want to know!" she complained and turned to Ron. "How did you do? Neville?" she asked, giving Harry a glare.

"I got good marks!" Ron said with a grin. "Only bad marks were in History of Magic and Potions."

Neville shrugged and glanced at Harry. "I got good marks too. I didn't do well in Potions and History of Magic, but I got really good marks in my other subjects."

Harry grinned at his friend. "I knew you could do it in Transfiguration and Charms! Well done! What did you get?"

"I got an Acceptable in Transfiguration and Exceeds Expectations in Charms," Neville muttered.

Harry cheered and clapped his friend on his back. "Well done! That was all you, Neville. I didn't do a whole lot to help. You did all the hard work. What did you get, Ron?

Ron handed over his letter as they reached the platform. Hermione and Neville crowded around as Harry read. "Astronomy: Acceptable; Charms: Exceeds Expectations; Defense Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations; Herbology: Exceeds Expectations; History of Magic: Acceptable; Potions, Poor; Transfiguration: Acceptable," he read and clapped his friend on the back. "Well done, you worked hard for these marks."

Hermione bit her lip and looked over Neville's card. "Outstanding in Herbology! If you didn't get that then we were all doomed," she joked and continued to read. "Dreadful in Potions isn't bad because it was Professor Snape giving the test. You're potion work is fine, Neville," she consoled. "These are really good, Mrs. Longbottom will be proud."

Neville grinned and looked at Harry. "Where's yours, mate?"

Harry laughed and produced the unopened envelope. Hermione looked aghast he hadn't opened it already. She tore it from his fingers and gingerly opened the letter. She read aloud:

Mr. H. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have passed your first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be allowed to enter your second year of study next term. Below are the marks you received:

Astronomy: Outstanding

Charms: Outstanding

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations

Herbology: Outstanding

History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations

Potions: Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration: Outstanding

"Snape gave you an Exceeds Expectations!?" Ron gasped and reread over the small card. "Mate, did you blackmail him?"

Harry laughed, his heart hammering in his chest. It would be a good summer. Parchments got passed around on the platform that students couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts or they would receive punishments up to and including expulsion. Maria's face floated in his mind as he read the notice. He suppressed a grin and noticed Fred and George wore knowing grins despite their howls of unfairness at not being able to do schoolwork.

The Hogwarts Express took them through the country as they wound their way back to King's Cross. Hermione showed everyone her marks. It surprised no one to see all Outstandings for her results except in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry was sure she was the best of the year and deserved her place with how hard she worked.

The four friends played exploding snap and talked the hours away as the train chugged along. Malfoy tried to cause trouble but got sent running when Fred and George set Lee's giant tarantula loose on him and his goons. Ron led them off the train and onto the platform. A short, slightly plump, kindly-looking woman with red hair embraced her four sons with a beaming smile. She hugged each of them and kissed them on their cheeks, much to the boy's annoyance. A small girl with red hair stood behind her, looking around with wide, excited eyes. He thought the girl must be Ginny, Ron's little sister.

Mrs. Weasley turned from her boys and locked eyes with Harry, who was standing to the side, his trunk at his feet. "You must be Harry, dear. My name is Molly Weasley. You are most welcome to say at the Burrow as long as you like," she said and embraced him in a strong, warm hug. When she fixed his tie, he wondered if this was how mothers acted with their sons.

AN: Thank you for reading my version of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. This is the first book in a series of seven books. I want to show a different series of events that change Harry Potter. I keep my profile updated with news and updates every few weeks on my writing process and story updates. I've finished and posted the second book in the series, Harry Potter and the Sacrifice for One. I hope you've enjoyed the series so far and will continue to do so. Please feel free to leave a comment with constructive criticism as I am attempting to further improve my writing. Thank you again for reading!