Author's Note: This story has been rewritten, including parts of the plot. It would be very much appreciated if you could reread it, as you may be confused later on. This story is Pre-HBP and seventh book, but major plot elements would be included – hence MINOR CHANGES. Merry Christmas and a Happy (Harry) New Year!

The Philosopher's Stone

The next greatest adventure draws near for some

Others with knowledge are desperate to keep mum

Snow fell in a light blanket, covering the mountain tops. Skye soared higher, enjoying the sense of freedom, and basically tranquility that surrounded the school castle.

Christmas.

She had just delivered a small parcel to Harry from the Dursleys, containing his birthday present. Watching him open it, she smiled inwardly to herself to see a fifty-pence coin taped to the letter.

For the first time she could remember, which was about ten years, Harry got presents. And not just one, a small pile. She could understand his exclamation of "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!", but Ron did not.

Molly seemed to be quite nice to Harry. Skye was surprised that she knitted Harry a jumper and enclosed a large box of fudge, all home-made. It was very nice of her to do so, considering she had only met him once.

Rubeus Hagrid had give Harry a flute, Hermione some Chocolate Frogs. That left one last parcel. Her heart suddenly jumped into her throat when a silvery item slid onto the floor. She recognised it immediately.

James's Invisibility Cloak.

He said he gave it to Dumbledore for safekeeping, Skye remembered.

"Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very merry Christmas to you." Harry read the accompanying letter aloud, making her heart twinge again. James was dead. The reason why she was stuck on a windowsill outside Harry's dormitory, the reason why there were no Marauder presents for Harry, the reason why James could not give Harry the cloak himself.

The reason why they crumbled into pieces, forgotten by most.

Skye shot Ron's pet rat a dark look at those thoughts. If only she could grab him! There had to be some way of telling someone that Peter Pettigrew was in Hogwarts. She saw him the moment he sneaked around the sweets on the train compartment, and recognition was immediate.

Only Sirius knew she and Pettigrew was alive. But how would she get a message to him in Azkaban? She could try to fly in, but how would she get any letter in, or for that matter, steal Harry's parchment, quill and ink? Too difficult. She could not risk leaving Harry alone with that murderer, for another matter.

Skye could hear the thundering footsteps on the staircase before she even saw the owner. Blinking owlishly – it seemed to become a sort of habit after ten years, along with eating very NOT delicious dishes like rats and frogs, she cocked her head to one side.

She did not have long to wait. Hermione Granger burst into the Owlery, a letter clutched in her hand.

"Get this to Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. As soon as you can. Please?" she panted, holding it out.

Skye stuck out her leg obediently. Dumbledore? Surely he was in Hogwarts? But if he was not there, why would Hermione be so worried?

Then it hit her. Hermione became one of Harry's best friends after the incident with the mountain troll. The trio was nearly inseparable. So if she was in such a hurry, did it mean something happened to Harry?

Hermione fumbled a while with the knot, finally securing the letter. "Ministry of Magic. Go!" she almost screamed. Whatever it was bothering her, it was bad.

Skye took off into the night. The last thing she heard was Hermione's mutterings, carried to her by the wind. "Don't let him be dead. Please, let Dumbledore arrive in time."

She tried. She really tried. But Dumbledore was nowhere to be found. She hunted for him near the Ministry of Magic first, according to Hermione. Then she looked for his tall figure in Hogsmeade, in Diagon Alley, even as much to venture above Knockturn Alley. Shivering at the thought of the old hag who wished to make her into owl soup, Skye continued her fruitless search.

Disheartened and wishing to know what happened to Harry, Skye returned to Hogwarts a whole day later. The first thing she did was to poke her head outside the Hospital Wing. Bingo.

Harry Potter lay on one of the beds, seemingly asleep. She could have sighed in relief. Stationing herself in a dark corner, Skye waited for him to wake.

"Good afternoon Harry," the voice of Professor Dumbledore jerked her into consciousness. So he did get here!

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?" Harry seemed to have the same opinion.

"We must have crossed in mid-air." I bet we did. "No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you – " Professor Dumbledore's explanation finally quietened her nerves.

So why did Harry get injured? Skye shivered again as the headmaster explained to Harry how he could have died saving a certain Philosopher's Stone. Apparently it was the source of the Elixir of Life, which Voldemort was using to attempt a return.

"Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me … things I want to know the truth about …" Don't we all?

"But why would he want to kill me in the first place?" Skye froze. Would he answer? Would he tell Harry about the prophecy? Harry at least deserved something akin to a childhood first, before being dragged into a war.

As if echoing her thoughts, Professor Dumbledore refused to answer the question gently.

Reflecting on the past year, Skye suddenly remembered something that took place the night of the Welcome Feast. Eager to see Harry's dormitory, she had slipped through the open window, and came face to face with Harry himself.

The soft snores of his roommates – four, she counted – apparently was not enough to lure him to sleep, for he stared pensively out of the open window. Out at what, she did not know, but most likely thinking about how lucky he was to have gotten away from the Dursleys.

Seeing her, he jumped to his feet, startled. She settled down opposite him, which he took as a cue to sit down again, stroking a hand through her feathers as he did so. Skye tilted her head better to enjoy it, enjoy the feeling of something no one ever did to her because anyone who got close enough to touch her knew she was an Animagus, and stroking was obviously out of the question.

Seeing Harry draw his knees up to his chest in a protective gesture and watching him think, Skye thought then that everything would be fine until Voldemort returned.

How wrong she was.