I do not own any recognizable characters or the Harry Potter Series. I am not making any profit from this post. And I have no intention of ever publishing this fanfiction professionally.

He woke up in a panic only to find himself in the hospital wing, Snape fast asleep in a chair to his right and a very awake Dumbledore on the chair to his left. At the foot of his bed was boxes upon boxes of candies and cards. Dumbledore tracked his gaze and chuckled.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers."

"Admirers?"

"What happened down in the dungeons and between you and Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Zabini will be quite relieved you have come round. They've been extremely worried."

"Draco is okay, then?"

"Healed almost the moment he came here."

"The Stone!" Harry gasped.

"Yes. The Philosopher's Stone. Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived just in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there?"

"I arrived at the Ministry and it became immediately clear that I was actually needed here. I arrived just in time to pull him off of you. For a moment, I feared I might have been too late."

"You nearly were. I don't think I could have kept him away from the Stone much longer."

"Not the Stone, boy, you. The effort to keep him away nearly killed you. I was afraid it had when I first look down at you. As for the fate of the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed? But… It belonged to Nicholas Flamel, didn't it?"

"Oh, you know about Nicholas?" said Dumbledore, sounding far too delighted in Harry's opinion.

"There's not many Philosopher's Stones, sir. It wasn't all that hard to find him, or his connection with you."

"I see the Sorting Hat was not mistaken placing you in Ravenclaw. I'm assuming the initial knowledge of the Stone came from someone currently snoring? No matter. Nicholas and I had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"Given the age of the Flamels, won't they die without the Stone?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die." Dumbledore smiled at the look of shock on Harry's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems grave, but to Nicholas and Perenelle, it really 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. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Harry took those words in, quietly thinking. Dumbledore started humming and looking at the ceiling, "Sir? Even without the Stone, Voldemort still has other ways of coming back, doesn't he? He's not gone for good."

"No, Harry. He is not. Perhaps looking for another body to share at this very moment. He is not truly alive but he cannot be killed either. In the dungeons, he left Quirrell to die. He shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. You may have delayed his return to power now, but it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle the next time. But if he is delayed again, and again, he may never return to power."

"If you can tell me, sir, I'd like to know the truth about something."

"The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, tell me what you wish to know, and unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me, I will tell you."

"I know that Voldemort wanted to kill my parents. But why did he want to kill me, too?

Dumbledore sighed very deeply.

"Alas, Harry, the thing you wish to know is the very thing I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day. When you are older…. I know you hate to keep hearing this, but when you are ready, you will know."

Harry wanted to argue but he the tone indicated the subject l closed for now, "Why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves it's own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, it gives us some 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 good."

Harry smiled a little wetly, recalling that the memory of her smiling and laughing could have been the last thing he would have seen. Harry had one last question, more of a suspicion, really.

"Was it you that left the cloak in my room, sir?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Yes, it was. Your father left it in my possession and I thought you might like it. Useful things, Invisibility Cloaks. Your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"There is one last thing, sir."

"Fire away."

"I don't know if you know about my Christmas gift to Mrs. Black ..."

"Ah, yes, the portrait. I must say, I think you are one of the first witches or wizards to possess that unique ability in this century. The last one known, if I am correct, was Wolfgang Mozart."

"If the ones remaining on the Black Family tree are the ones with better morals, why have Sirius and his brother stayed?"

"Ah. You ask me something I don't know the answer to myself. I cannot claim expertise over your unique talent, and I daresay there aren't any who can. As for the demise of both Sirius and Regulus, who can say? If your workings achieved what you believe they have, there might be more to their story. Perhaps time will reveal it to be so." Dumbledore stood during this, sidling along and standing at the end of the bed.

"Sorry, sir, one last thing."

"Just the one?" Dumbledore teased.

"How is it I did get the Stone sir? Quirrell must have been standing in front of the mirror for quite some time."

"I was hoping you would ask me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it. My brain surprised even me sometimes. Now I believe that is enough questions for now. I leave you to enjoy your sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them. But I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth and gagged, "Alas! Earwax!" Harry watched him go, not really sure if he liked him or not. But such was his peculiarity.

Snape continued to keep a watchful eye on him in the hospital wing. Having delivered his long-winded lecture upon waking up and seeing Harry sitting up, Severus didn't have the heart to ground him over his rashness. Such was the good standing between them, Harry was able to convince Severus to leave at night to sleep in a real bed rather than a chair that could permanently damage someone's back. He was also able to convince Madam Pomfrey to not only let Draco and Blaise visit but to release him in time for the end-of-term feast. The Great Hall was awash in red and gold, Gryffindor having taken the lead after winning the Quidditch Cup. The meal went by quickly, Draco and Blaise making plans with Harry for the summer. The last course of the final meal cleared away and Dumbledore stood.

"Another year gone! What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs rewarding and the points stand thus. In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and twenty-six points. In third place, Ravenclaw with three hundred and eighty-two points. Slytherin has four hundred and forty-two and Gryffindor, four hundred and seventy-two points."

The Gryffindor table burst out in cheers, the three boys watching Ron and his friends gloating at Hermione, all but Ron holding up four fingers as well.

"Yes, yes, well done Gryffindor," Dumbledore said, "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The Hall went very quiet. The Gryffindor's smirks fading slightly.

"Ahem. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes. First to Mr. Blaise Zabini, for the cool use of logic in the face of fire, I award Slytherin House fifty points. Second to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Ravenclaw House fifty points. And finally, there are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies but a great deal more to go against your family. I therefore award sixty points to Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Cheering erupted from both the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, for they were now tied first. Draco was looking up at Dumbledore in shock, not registering the numerous hugs and pats he was receiving from all those around him.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the celebrating, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands and the scarlet hangings became blue and gold became silver. The Gryffindor Lion vanished and a towering occamy took its place, merging both House's symbols into one creature. Minerva didn't seem deterred in the slightest, raising her glad to both Severus and Flitwick. Harry teased her later than she didn't mind because Gryffindor won the Inter-House Quidditch Cup. Now that the danger to the two Ravenclaws and Slytherin were past, Harry got his room back. Not that it mattered much, as they bunked out in the study with sleeping bags, wileing the days away with visiting Hagrid, playing short skirmishes of Quidditch, and filling in their friends on the first hand account of what happened in the dungeons. They had figured out who set which obstacle, which Severus confirmed when they told him. The Devil's Snare was obviously Sprout. The key birds they thought might have been Narcissa but ultimately decided on Flitwick. Narcissa was mentioned for the chess board as well but Harry insisted on McGonagall. According to him, you've not played a real match of Wizard's Chess until you've played against Minerva. That left the water room and the riddle. Draco kept insisting that the riddle was his mum's until Severus let them have a small glass of nettle wine to celebrate their grades, and that settled it. The three of them had kind of forgotten about the exams after everything. To their relief, they all passed with flying colors. To Hermione's slight irritation, the only subjects she was first in were Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Astronomy, and History of Magic. Harry got the top spot in Charms, Draco in Transfiguration, and Neville was first in Herbology.

Harry opted to take the train home, wanting to gain a few extra moments with his friends before parting for ten weeks. Remus was there to take him to Ymborth. The three boys seperated with promises of seeing each other later and Harry couldn't wipe the grin off his face the entire journey home.