Sorry about the delay; I needed some direct quotes from the book, and up until recently, the only copy I've been able to work with is in Spanish--and my translating skills leave a lot to be desired. As always, if you recognize it, it isn't mine. Next item of business: I was astonished and delighted by the reviews I got. If you didn't review (shame on you), I'm sure the review button hasn't moved from where it usually is, hint, hint.

Loop-da-loopy: Thanks, here's the next one as requested!

Alania: Yes, Dumbledore is wonderful, isn't he? Just let me know as soon as you think anyone's tiptoeing into the scary realm of Out-of-Character. I really hate it when that happens. And I definitely agree that spelling is a rare commodity among fanfiction authors. ;D

Danielle: Thanks. I'm not planning to make Snape and Harry friends--I'm trying to keep this as canon as possible. It would be extremely out of character for them to be more than civil to each other, and even civility is stretching it. This is pretty much going to follow the books, but from Dumbledore's point of view.

Alix33: I had no idea of Madam Hooch's first name either, and as far as I know, it's not in the books (not the American versions, anyway). I found it while I was perusing The Harry Potter Lexicon, along with Quirrell's first name, which isn't mentioned either. Anyway, I'm glad you approve so far.

Pixelfish: It's the philosopher's stone in Britain, and the original legend of a stone that can turn metal into gold and make you immortal is definitely the philosopher's stone, not the sorcerer's stone, so I'm following that. Thanks for reviewing.

shannyauburn: Thanks, I'll update as often as possible!

Chance: Glad you like it, I'm trying to write as steadily as possible. Thanks for reviewing.

And now . . . on with the story!


Albus looked up from the latest letter from Cornelius as the door to his office slammed open, emitting an enraged Severus Snape. Feeling it would be best to confront such anger with composure, he said mildly, "Pleasant evening, Severus. Won't you sit down?"

"That—boy," fumed Snape, "is exactly like his father. He—"

"Might I assume that you are speaking of Harry?" Albus interrupted placidly.

Severus shot him a look full of frustration. "Well, that incompetent Weasley boy is a bit like his father as well, I suppose, but yes, this is about Potter."

Albus sighed and put away the letter from Fudge, placating the lingering ministry owl with a treat. "What has Harry done?"

"The boy's cheek is intolerable. If he cannot show respect for his teachers—"

"Severus," Albus said gently, "I think you are coloring your image of Harry with your memories of James. You must realize that they are not the same person."

Severus glowered for a moment, then sank into the chair that Albus had offered in the first place. "Minerva tells me he's to be on the Gryffindor quidditch team."

"Yes," Albus answered, peering at him closely over his half-moon spectacles.

"Headmaster, if you allow Potter to bend the rules about first-years not having brooms or playing quidditch, it will go to his head even more than his fame already has. From what I hear, Minerva only discovered his flying talents because he was disobeying direct instructions. If you allow him to get away with this, Potter will start thinking that he can break any rules he likes." Severus had calmed down and was speaking in a cold matter-of-fact voice, but Albus could tell he was still angry. Severus never allowed his temper to get the better of him, but that didn't mean it didn't have its own detrimental effects.

"I have been watching the boy, Severus. I've had several of the portraits reporting back to me on him, and as you are aware, I observed his classes the first week. Invisible, of course." Albus registered Snape's nod, then continued. "I do not think that this will go to Harry's head. Harry is not James, Severus. James arrived at this school the only child of doting parents, and Harry has been neglected for most of his life. I agree that the sudden fame will—and has already—provided changes to his personality, but the results of those changes still remain to be seen. Do try to give him a grace period before you judge him, Severus."

The door to the office swung open again, this time letting in a tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Albus said courteously as the cat changed into his transfiguration professor with a slight pop.

"Good evening, Albus," she replied, though she didn't look as though it was good. "I need to discuss something with you. About Potter and Malfoy."

"Indeed," Severus said, and Albus was certain that his interest was deeply aroused. "The headmaster and I were just discussing Potter, as a matter of fact. In particular, his lack of respect for his teachers."

Minerva closed her eyes as though praying for patience, then turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, I have just heard that Potter was goaded into accepting a challenge for a duel. With Malfoy," she added with a certain amount of asperity towards Snape.

"If Draco challenged Potter to a duel, it was most likely because Potter made a remark he shouldn't," Severus observed coolly. "At any rate, I doubt he intends to actually face Potter, as dueling is against school rules."

"If he doesn't intend to act on it, why challenge him?" Minerva countered. "Unless, of course, it was simply to get Potter in trouble, in which case—"

"Both students are at fault for even agreeing to duel," Albus intervened. "But we must not forget that nothing has happened yet. It might simply blow over." Both Minerva and Severus looked as though they doubted this, but Albus continued. "Where is the duel to take place, Minerva?"

"In the trophy room at midnight."

"I will take care of this matter," Albus said, coming to a sudden decision. "You may both rest assured that should punishments indeed be deserved, they will be dealt."

Minerva nodded in satisfaction, but Severus looked skeptical, something Albus was quick to notice. "Trust me, Severus," he said quietly.

Severus hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Very well, headmaster."

"Good. Now that's settled, would either of you like a lemon drop?" Albus beamed at them, not even stopping as they refused as politely as possible and left the room.

When the office was empty, Fawkes gave a musical cry and flew to Albus' lap to be stroked. Albus gently rubbed the bird's head, causing the phoenix to croon with pleasure as the headmaster turned back to replying to Cornelius' letter. Dumbledore wasn't paying much attention to the task, however. He was lost in thought about the person that had been worrying him for over a month: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

He had watched Harry during the first week of classes, tailing him unobtrusively (which, of course, meant invisibly) nearly everywhere he went. Some might have said the precaution was extreme, but Albus didn't think so. If the prophecy had any bearing on future events, then making sure the boy's character was in place was of utmost importance. Once he was sure, Albus could leave the boy well enough alone.

Albus finished the letter, and gave the ministry owl another treat for waiting before tying the letter to its leg and letting it fly out of the window. He transferred Fawkes to his normal perch, and stood to retrieve his stone Pensieve from its cupboard. Prodding at its contents with his wand, he watched impassively as a silver figure wearing many shawls and bangles rose from it. There it was again, in that hollow voice: "And either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives . . . "

Fawkes came over to him again and rubbed his scarlet head against the side of Albus' face, demanding more attention. As he resumed stroking the phoenix, Albus wondered. The few others who had heard of the prophecy considered it to have been fulfilled already. Voldemort had chosen to attack Harry, and the killing curse had rebounded upon him. Simple enough: Voldemort faces baby Harry, and Harry wins and Voldemort dies.

But what about all that about Voldemort marking the boy as his equal? That surely hadn't happened, had it? Unless, of course, that by choosing to attack Harry Voldemort had been marking him as an equal.

Albus didn't think it could possibly be all that simple. There were those vague, disturbing rumors, for one thing. That dark force deep in the forests of Albania . . . Although, Quirenius had reported that he'd seen no sign of it. "The th-thing m-m-must have l-l-left," he'd said. But where would it have gone?

"You know, Albus, if you're going to catch those two miscreants, you'd best be going," said the lazy voice of Phineas Nigellus. "If you let them on their own, they might even wander into that third floor corridor. Then they'd really be in trouble."

"I didn't think time had passed that quickly," Albus murmured, peering at the grandfather clock in one corner. He paused, considering Phineas' words. Then, with a wave of his wand, he was invisible, and heading out of his office door.

He'd been wondering for some time now how Harry might deal with pressure or danger. He was coping well enough in his classes, but there were of course some lessons that couldn't be taught in a classroom.

If you let them on their own, the might even wander into that third floor corridor. Phineas' words circled around Albus' mind. He didn't think Harry and Ron would be so foolish; they had mistakenly tried to get into the corridor on their second day, but since being caught by Argus, were reluctant to go anywhere near it. Harry was one to avoid trouble enough that he would not try a second time to get through that door. Unless . . .

It was the perfect test of character, really. And nothing could possibly go wrong, as Albus himself would be there to make sure it didn't.

Albus made his way quietly to the Gryffindor common room. He'd left early enough (despite Phineas' misguided warnings) that he would be able to follow them from there.

Sure enough, as he approached the Fat Lady's empty portrait, it opened. Harry and Ron climbed out followed—Albus chuckled to himself—by an irate Hermione Granger, who was thoroughly berating them about being irresponsible. Her protestations of their stupidity and recklessness were only broken when she turned around and realized that the Fat Lady was gone and the portrait had swung shut behind her.

"Now what am I going to do?" Hermione wailed.

Ron, with a look of acute irritation, told her it was her problem, and he and Harry promptly walked away.

Albus had a sudden burst of inspiration. Harry and Ron wouldn't know how to get through the door to the third floor corridor, but Hermione (being the keen student she was) would.

Hermione leaned huffily against the wall. She seemed to be quite determined to let Harry and Ron face the consequences of their own actions, and to stay put until the Fat Lady returned.

Albus shook his head. That wouldn't do. With a subtle wave of his invisible wand, he gently pushed a suggestion into her mind. If she stayed where she was, she might get caught by Filch, mightn't she? And she wouldn't want that. And it was so lonely, waiting here in the dark . . .

Hermione bit her lip, resolve teetering. She looked at Harry and Ron's retreating backs, then back up at the Fat Lady's empty canvas. Then, with a sigh and what might have been a muttered curse, she tore off after the two boys.

Albus chuckled to himself as he followed her, checking to be sure his presence was a completely silent one. He caught up with the three just in time to hear the end of Hermione's justifying argument.

"—If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

Ron was both furious and indignant. "You've got some nerve—"

"Shut up, both of you! I heard something." Albus was proud to see that Harry had been looking around carefully rather than getting involved in what was fast becoming a loud argument.

The three turned to see another first year boy, who was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, and snoring in a noisy, snuffily sort of way. It was almost understandable that Ron mistook the noise for that of Mrs. Norris, Argus' paranoid cat.

Albus watched interestedly as Harry sorted out whether Neville would come with them or not. Neville was frightened of being alone in the dark, and though Harry gave in, Ron issued a stern warning to both Neville and Hermione that they had better not get them caught. Albus smiled faintly at this vehement threat. Little did they know how guarded they were from being discovered by Argus tonight.

The headmaster followed them invisibly to the trophy room, only once pausing to send Mrs. Norris off in another direction so that she would not discover the miscreant nighttime wanderers. The four were being quite helpful; not so much as a scuffle, they proceeded as quietly as possible to the trophy room.

They entered the out-of-bounds room to be confronted by little more than moonlight and shadows—Malfoy wasn't there yet.

Albus considered this for a moment. He'd suspected, of course, that the Slytherin boy wouldn't show up, but he rather wanted to get the group to leave so that he could direct them where he chose. How to get them away without noticing where they were going?

A quick spell did the trick, and then Albus waited again.

"Maybe he's chickened out," Ron suggested in a whisper after a few more minutes.

A noise made the four jump, and Albus smiled knowingly as they heard the caretaker enter the room, speaking wheezily to Mrs. Norris. That got them moving. Neville and Ron knocked over a suit of armor, but Albus was able to silence it enough so that, while Filch came running, it was not the immediate capture it might have been. He likewise blocked Harry's yell of "RUN!" from Argus' ears.

Then they were off. Albus managed to keep pace with Harry (though panting slightly and reminding himself that he was no longer ninety). He was quite sure that Harry had no idea where he was going, which was excellent for guiding the quartet unobtrusively. At each crucial turning, Albus gave a subtle flick of his wand, making one passage less obvious so that the running students often overlooked it. He even made sure that the tapestry to a hidden passageway—which he knew Harry had never seen before—fluttered invitingly, ensuring that the fleeing students took it.

Finally, the need for a breather and the relative safety of being away from the trophy room made the group pause. Although grateful for the respite, Albus immediately cast around for a way to get them moving again. This time, he didn't have to summon anyone.

Peeves came shooting out of a classroom, squealing gleefully when he saw the four students. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty," he sang, cackling madly.

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." Albus shook his head and suppressed a chuckle. Even after only a few weeks, Harry really should know better by now than to ask something of the poltergeist directly.

"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves continued, in a would-be pious voice, "It's for your own good, you know."

Albus, of course, knew that Peeves would do no such thing. The funny little man would do absolutely nothing to help the cantankerous caretaker if he could possibly help it; Peeves would help Argus when Severus awarded points to Gryffindor of his own free will. The four panic-stricken students, however, had clearly not realized this.

Ron was the first to lose his patience. "Get out of the way!"

That did it, of course. They were forced to flee as Peeves belted out the tidings to the whole school. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Albus made sure that the only place for them to go was the door right at the end of the corridor—locked, as he knew it would be.

Ron moaned something about them being doomed, and Hermione snapped at them to get out of the way. She performed the Alohomora charm just as Albus took off the more advanced spells, and the lock clicked open.

They rushed in and practically slammed the door shut again—Albus only just managed to get in behind them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione pressed their ears to the door, quite preoccupied with getting away from the fast approaching trouble that was Argus Filch.

That left Neville as the only one to look around to see what was behind them.

Albus was suddenly glad that the trio had brought Neville along—if they had left without even noticing what he wanted them to see, then the whole trip would have been for nothing. Neville froze in panic as Albus quickly cast a spell over the giant, three-headed dog to keep it from reacting too quickly. He stayed that way for a few minutes while the others made sure that Filch had disappeared, and then tugged frantically on Harry's sleeve.

The invisible headmaster watched the panicked faces of the first-years intently. Would Harry freeze, as Neville had done? The spell was wearing off now, but Harry couldn't seem to move—

Then, the instant was over, and Harry yanked the door open. The other three fell outside with him, and Albus stepped quickly over them before Harry slammed the door shut.

There was no discussion as the four ran back to Gryffindor tower, but Albus was at least pleased at the way Harry had reacted. He smiled at the Fat Lady, making himself visible to her for a brief instant as she inquired where they had been. She swung open at once as Harry gasped the password at her.

Inside, Ron was the first to get his breath back. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Albus actually pondered this for a moment. Perhaps he should get Hagrid to take Fluffy for a walk every couple of nights. He certainly didn't want to neglect the animal's well-being.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

Ah, that made Albus very glad of the girl's presence indeed.

"The floor?" Harry asked. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

Yes, a good thing indeed that Hermione Granger had come along, Albus thought. If the girl could teach Harry to notice those sorts of things even in a moment of danger, Harry might well surpass his father's reputation as an excellent auror.

He watched Harry's expression as the girl went up to bed, and could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He'd listened to a conversation between Harry and Ron about the article that had turned up in the newspaper on the Gringotts break-in, and of course he knew Harry had been with Hagrid the day he'd retrieved Nicholas' Stone. Harry was putting two and two together, Albus concluded with pride.

As Albus retreated to his office for the night, he thought once again about the night's events. Many of the teachers would undoubtedly claim that it was very irresponsible of him. Which was why, of course, they wouldn't find out. Albus knew very well what he was doing. It had long since occurred to him that if any Dark wizard in history could want the Stone hidden in his castle, Voldemort would. And the unsettling events that Nicholas had described in the way of visitors just happened to coincide with the disappearance of the dark force he'd been watching in Albania all this time.

Harry would be all right. Albus firmly believed that if someone had the ability to uncover a bit of knowledge, he or she was worthy of the trust and discretion that came with that knowledge. That was why, so many years ago, when James Potter and Sirius Black had discovered the truth about one of their friends' disappearances, he had not used a memory charm, as Remus had begged him.

He did not need to interfere any more in Harry's life at the moment, Albus decided. He would wait to see what Harry did with what he'd found out.