The Boy Who Could Not Die

Wanda: Ugh, this chapter was a pain. I realized about halfway through this that this story doesn't really get going until second year, where Harry is actually in contact with one of the things that could actually kill him. Plus, that's where I start building up the angst...ugh. I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm sorry if this chapter is short and not that good.

Chapter 4: Never expect maturity from an invincible eleven year old

After inventing troll fighting, Harry realized that his life would never be 'normal', or any facsimile thereof.

It was Hermione who discovered that something was being hidden in the school. Whoever had let the troll in during Halloween had intended for it to be a distraction while they searched for this object. Harry couldn't deny being curious, especially given how secretive everyone was being about it – they had to coax some information out of Hagrid, the groundskeeper. A friendly guy, a nice guy, but terrible at keeping secrets.

That did make Harry wonder why the Headmaster told him such sensitive information, in case someone malicious discovered it, but he put those thoughts on hold. It was not for him to try and discern the mysteries of the adult mind. (or so he said, dramatically, when Ron asked him)

Ron was convinced that the potions teacher was responsible for the troll, and was trying to steal the package. Harry was a bit sceptical.

"I know you don't like him," Harry said to his friend. "But isn't that a bit too easy?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, confused. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Exactly!" Harry said, waving his wand under Ron's nose. "I think that if Snape was responsible, he would have been caught by now. I mean, everyone hates him, so he'd be the first suspect! He's too obvious, it has to be someone else."

"But who else could it be," Ron asked, looking around the library. "I mean, who else would try to rob something that Professor Dumbledore has set up guards for?"

Hermione had a contemplative expression on her face, when suddenly her eyes widened and she shot off into the stacks of books. Harry and Ron exchanged confused looks.

"What'd I say?" Ron asked helplessly. He and Hermione had trouble getting along occasionally, leaving Harry to act as peacemaker. (that often went over about as well as you'd expect.)

"Ron, you're a genius!" Hermione said breathlessly when she reappeared from the shelves.

"I am?" Ron perked up at that, both confused and pleased.

Hermione dropped book on the table – it was so large that it made everyone on it rattle upon impact. "I just remembered some trivia on Dumbledore – he occasionally does alchemy with the help of his longtime friend and partner Nicholas Flamel!"

Harry brightened. "That's the name Hagrid mentioned to us!"

Hermione nodded, opening the book up to Flamel's page. "It says here that he's the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone. That's what's under the trap door, that's what the three headed dog is guarding!" She looked extremely excited at this revelation.

"Wow! What should we do?"

"Well, if someone's trying to steal it, maybe we should go and get it first?" Harry suggested. "Then we could give it to Dumbledore and tell him its not safe here anymore."

"But how would we steal it?" Ron asked, frowning. "I heard all the teachers had a hand in setting up traps to protect it."

"I could get past the traps," Harry volunteered. "If there was some way for you guys to communicate with me, you could guide me through the rest of the traps until I reach the stone! Plus, this way you guys won't be at risk of getting hurt."

The problem with having friends who didn't share your invincibility was that you started to feel fear again – you were afraid of them getting hurt by things you wouldn't even blink at.

Harry rediscovered this fear when Hermione fell on the stairs thanks to Malfoy and chipped a tooth. Poppy, the school nurse, had fixed it up in record time, but Harry couldn't forget helping Hermione there as she cried from the pain.

Hermione tapped her fingers against the book. "I think I might have heard about some spells that could help us...but I need some time to find and work on them...okay, we'll try and steal the stone around Christmas. That gives us some time to prepare."

Boxing Day, weeks later

Harry whistled innocently as he examined the mirror that he, Ron and Hermione had created.

It didn't look like anything special, but if he said either of their names he could talk to them no matter how far away they were. Between this and the invisibility cloak he had been given as a present, the stone would be his within the day.

Harry carefully placed the mirror inside the pocket of his Weasley sweater. Gently he brushed his fingers over the fabric. Though he had covered it up, he had been shocked when Ron revealed his mother had given him something. Harry, who had never received gifts before, had a rare moment where he had nothing to say.

This was what made him decide to trade letters with Ginny Weasley. He hoped that, if he asked, Ron would let him come over to his house someday soon.

Putting these thoughts aside, Harry threw the invisibility cloak over his head and hurried out of the dormitory. It was late at night; the only people out were crabby old Filch and the ghosts, who Harry was already quite practised at avoiding.

Upon reaching the third floor, Harry placed his cloak down in a bundle for Ron to pick up in a few minutes. Then he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&

Fluffy immediately snapped Harry up between the jaws of his middle head.

Harry lost his glasses as the room tossed around him, but he endeavoured to remain still as the increasingly frustrated animal attempted to make a meal out of him.

After a minute of being tossed around, Harry pulled out his wand. "Thanks for the ride, but I'd like to go down now." He shot a stinging hex at the side of Fluffy's head.

Whining, the Cerberus dropped him. When Harry got to his feet, Fluffy was backing up, eyeing him suspiciously with all three heads.

"That's what happens when you eat whatever moves!" Harry scolded the creature, using a spell to clean the drool of his clothes. "Tell you what. Let me down the trap door and I'll tell Hagrid to give you some extra treats tomorrow."

Fluffy whined again, but he seemed to recognize the incentive. Harry walked up to the trap door unchallenged, but before he went down he scratched Fluffy between one set of ears. "Good dog," He said. Then he jumped into the hole.

The next trap was a devil's snare. Hermione told him to start a fire, sharing the bluebell flame spell she had mastered a while back with him.

Harry decided he hated anything involving broomsticks when the bird-key trap was dealt with.

Ron walked him through the chess puzzle; the kid was really good – perhaps Harry should show him some of the muggle's professional chess games. With a little familiarity with the muggle world, Ron would fit right in.

Hermione explained the riddle to him, and Harry worked more on his troll-fighting resume.

"There are still some kinks to work out," Harry chuckled as he pulled his leg free of the troll's body. "First, I have to figure out how to keep them from getting choked..."

Finally Harry came to a mirror. A strange mirror, too – it didn't just show his reflection...it showed images of his mother and father as well.

Tentatively, Harry raised a hand and brushed his fingers over his mother's face. The beautiful redhead smiled back at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. The boy who never felt pain was struck by a longing so terrible it threatened to choke him.

Lily Potter smiled lovingly at him and pressed a red stone into his hand.

Harry looked down and saw that he was now in possession of the Philosopher's stone. He turned and stared at his lost parents once again, wondering what could have been.

"Potter."

Harry turned around and marvelled. Hermione had been right! It wasn't Snape after all, it was someone who would have been beneath suspicion – it was Professor Quirrel!

But...not just professor Quirrel. The man was standing with his back to him...but there was still a face with red eyes and no nose staring back at him.

"I see you found the stone..." The second face hissed while Harry tried not to loose his dinner at the disgusting sight. "Perfect...you're a better minion then Quirrel ever was...now...give it to me..."

"How about no, no-nose?" Harry asked.

"Silence! Your insolence does you no favors, Potter."

"Oh, sorry – Professor no-nose," Harry corrected himself.

The second face seethed with rage. "You'll pay for your insolence, Potter!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Like I've never heard that before." He said sarcastically, shoving the stone in his pocket.

Voldemort made Quirrel lunge at Harry. In retrospect, that was a very plebeian – dare I say, muggle – response to Harry's taunting. Even if his skin hadn't burned like coals in a fire upon contact, even if Harry pounced on him and forced him to burn to death, surely the master of dark magic was above using his fists like a common muggle criminal.

In the end, Harry stood dazed on top of a mound of ash when Albus Dumbledore came down to see who had tripped the alarms.

In the Office

Harry thought that Dumbledore seemed far to pleased that he'd been willing to risk his life on the off chance someone wanted the stone. Frankly, Harry thought there was more going on inside this old man's head them anyone was willing to admit.

However, news that he was being fostered by the Weasleys successfully pulled his attention away from that. The promise of a real home for someone who had never been wanted was as good as a distraction could ever get.

End Chapter

(sigh) Again, I'm sorry its so short. But the real heart of the story really is set in second year. I hope my lovely readers are willing to bear with me for a little.

Read and Review, please.