Chapter One: Questions
Harry Potter laid in his hospital bed watching the retreating back of the Great Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry had just woken up and was informed of his friends' safety, and the destruction of the Sorcerer's Stone. Upon learning that he was again a target for Voldemort, who was in fact not dead, he was in a state of silent shock.
The man who had killed his parents had just tried to kill him. Again. This time, Harry wasn't even the main target. Harry being there and within killing distance had just been a boon to the Dark Lord. The target was the Sorcerer's Stone, a powerful artifact that had the ability to restore a body to the wraith and grant everlasting life. An artifact that was supposed to be protected, but whose "protections" had just been bested by a trio of first years. Granted, Harry doubted that they would have gotten anywhere close to the stone without Hermione's help, but the fact remained that a simple first year level Alohomora could have let any student get mauled by the Cerberus Fluffy, Hagrid's Most Dangerous Pet of the Week.
Unbeknownst to him, the Matron, Madame Poppy Pomfrey had heard every word of the exchange between Harry and the Headmaster, from the other side of the privacy curtain and was infuriated. 'How dare he just drop that on the poor boy and walk away talking about candy of all things!' she fumed to herself. Reminding herself of Harry's needs, she picked up the potions she had gathered and bustled past the curtain to Harry's side.
Forcing a calming draft into Harry's hands, she snapped him out of wherever his troubled thoughts were. "Here boy" She noticed Harry's flinch at the word "boy" and paused before continuing. "You need to rest. Drink this. It's a calming draft, so you can rest easier. I don't want to give you another sleeping draft, I don't want you becoming reliant on them."
She went to move away but one look at Harry's face stopped her. His face was stony, yet she could see tears threatening to fall. In a much gentler tone than she normally used, she ventured "Mr. Potter, what is it?"
He turned to her and burst out "I didn't mean to, I swear. I had to stop him, but I killed him. I must have, he didn't get back up, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to stop him, I'm sorry!" and burst into tears. She froze, having overheard mentions of Professor Quirrel's involvement, and what his absence from the medical wing meant. She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and took one of Harry's small hands in hers, noting the way it was much smaller than most other children of his age.
"Harry, listen to me. What you did was completely in self defense. You didn't mean to, but you are eleven, and have no way of stopping a fully trained adult wizard. What you were able to do was a blessing, even if it ended in someone's death. You must remember, he would have stopped at nothing to get what he wanted, including killing you and your friends. Remember that. You saved your friends and everyone in this castle." Madam Pomfrey then did something she usually didn't and hugged the distraught boy.
Harry stiffened, then cried into her apron. He was unable to remember ever being held like this, by someone who cared about his well-being. Through the fog that was his tears, he was able to mumble a sniffly "thank you", to which he heard a muffled "There there, child, just take your potion and rest, I'll be here when you wake".