The Nick of Time
Miss Granger did not have to come to me that horrible night. She did not have to tell me that Harry had gone ahead to defeat Quirrel. I had a horrible feeling that Harry had done that, and as such, I rushed back from the ministry. Fudge could wait until later. Knowing him, Fudge would most likely be asking about what to do with the American President of Magic.
I ran as quickly as my old bones would carry me, since I was rubbish on a broomstick, passing Miss Granger on the way. She started to speak when I cut her off, "Miss Granger, take Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing. Harry has gone into the corridor, hasn't he?"
She nodded, and continued levitating Mr. Weasley down the hall. I quickened my run, and soon found myself at the third floor corridor. I went through the locked door, and gave a quick nod to Fluffy (Why in heaven's name did Hagrid name that dog Fluffy? His proper name is Cerberus.)
Going through a hidden passageway, I came to the scene just in time to watch the whole sorry affair. Tears came to my eyes as I watched Harry get confronted once again with a choice between good and evil, power and integrity. I watched as Harry discovered the one weapon he had against Quirrel, and how he learned how to use it. I was just about to show myself to Harry when a spirit Tom came up from the ashes that was once my Defense Professor. Harry collapsed within seconds, just barely being able to keep the Sorcerer's Stone away from Tom.
I rushed to his side. He was very exhausted, and had some serious-looking scratches on his arms, face, pants, and shirt, most likely the doing of that Devil's Snare Professor Sprout had planted in the entrance. He was very dirty, and bits of marble gravel were caught in his messy black locks. His glasses were broken (again), and he looked terribly pale. I Summoned a stretcher and carefully set the poor boy on it. I levitated the stretcher down the passageway and into the halls, where Miss Granger and Madam Pomfrey were waiting for me. They took one look at him and gasped. Madam Pomfrey was the first one to find her voice. "Albus, what happened to the poor boy? It looks like he battled with a demon."
"Poppy, my dear, he essentially did. He needs immediate medical attention."
"Yes, of course, Albus. Oh my, oh my. I was hoping he would only have a few minor Quidditch injuries this year."
"We all were, Poppy, we all were."
"Excuse me, sir, but will Harry be alright?"
"Of course he will, Miss Granger, as soon as Madam Pomfrey gets her hands on him, he will be quite fine. Now I suggest you go back to the Gryffindor Common Room, as your classmates will be anxious to hear of what went down on your little adventure."
"Yes sir."
She walked down the hall, and started up one staircase, obviously worried about her friends' fates. Kids these days have to be much more mature then what was required when I was a child, I thought, as Madam Pomfrey came out. "His injuries have all been healed but one, to be a reminder to not get into dangerous situations. What really worried me is the amount of energy, both magical and physical, that he exerted. It matched that of a 7th year's when they take their N.E.W.T.s."
"Oh my. We will certainly have to keep a closer eye on him from now on, won't we?"
Harry was out for four days, in which his team lost the Cup, unfortunately. He woke up right as I came into the Hospital wing to check on him. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had come just in the nick of time.