A/N: I'm back and writing again. Thanks to all reviews, favourites and follows. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Harry felt like his heart was racing faster than a golden snitch could flutter. As they made their way to the forbidden corridor on the third floor underneath Harry's invisibility cloak, none of them even dared to whisper. They were all thinking about what terrible things could possibly be in the forbidden corridor and what could possibly happen to them. But they also knew that the consequences of Voldemort getting his hands on the stone would be worse, for everyone.

Harry clutched the small flute that Ron borrowed (though without asking) from his brother Percy with a shaking hand. He could feel Hermione shaking beside him and Ron's shallow breathing. The hall was poorly lit and the trio found it hard to walk without tripping on each other or on the cloak.

When they came to the familiar rusting door, Hermione brought out her wand and pointed it towards the lock. "Alohomora."

The door unlocked and was pulled open by a draft. The draft was strong enough to blow off the invisibility cloak. Harry quickly shoved the cloak into his bag; he was reluctant to lose it again anytime soon. Lying in front of them was Fluffy with all three heads in a silent slumber. One of the heads started to sniff and opened its eyes. Before Harry could bring the small flute to his mouth, the whole beast was awake and started barking wildly. If it wasn't for the large chain that acted as a leash, Harry was sure that they would be devoured – one of them for each head.

"Harry!" Ron yelled frantically over the sound of beastly snarling, "Play something!"

Harry was almost too frozen in fear to bring the flute to his mouth. He was elected to play as he was the only one of them to have been given some instrumental lessons (although the Dursleys didn't allow him to go very far with it). He picked Greensleeves as it was his favourite song to play. He began to blow.

Surely enough, the beast began to quieten and become sluggish until it eventually fell to the floor, barely leaving the trap door exposed. They quickly made a break for it, jumping through the trap door without a second thought.

That would be a foolish mistake. They landed in the dark and on what felt to Harry like a pile of worms. It was disgusting. He and Ron both screamed and began to thrash around. Hermione was silent and did not move.

"Hermione? What's wrong with you? This thing is going to strangle you!"

"Stop moving!" Hermione called, "It's Devil's Snare."

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help." Ron replied sarcastically.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!"

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!"

"Just wait. If you struggle, it'll only pull tighter. If we keep still it will let us down. Relax."

Soon after she said this, she began to sink and fell to the floor beneath with a thud.

"It's ok. Just keep still."

Harry froze still. It took all of his willpower to keep still; the wriggling was going to drive him mad. But slowly, he felt the vines begin to relent and he began to sink, slowly, onto the unseen floor below him. Harry fell to the floor with a thud, glad to be rid of the vines. However, the feel of the vines around him lingered on his skin for some time.

However, Ron was still finding it hard to relax. He kept on struggling despite what Ron.

"It's ok, Ron," Hermione reassured, "Just relax."

"He's not going to relax." Harry told Hermione shaking his head slightly.

"How can I?! This thing is strangling me to death!" Ron yelled.

Hermione began to recite to herself, "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare, its deadly fun but will sulk in the sun. That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight!"

Hermione aimed her wand at the vines, "Lumos soleum!"

A jet of light erupted from Hermione's wand and touched the vines surrounding Ron. The vines made a vile snarling, hissing sound then withered, releasing Ron and allowing him to fall to the ground.

"Thankfully, we're alright." Ron said as he brushed himself off.

"Thankfully Hermione pays attention in Herbology." Harry corrected.

They entered the next room with no time to spare. It was dusty and clustered. They could hear fluttering of wings, Harry looked up to see birds – no, keys with wings flying all around the room. Hundreds of them. There was also broomstick in the middle of the room. On the other side of the room there was a door.

Hermione rushed to the door and cast 'alohomora', to no effect.

"I presume we're going to have to find and catch the key that fits into the lock." Hermione stated glumly.

Ron groaned. Harry was also feeling deflated but he looked around at the keys he noticed a particular one that was older looking, bigger and had a chipped wing.

"Maybe it's that old one over there." Harry pointed at the key in question, "Surely that old key would fit into that old lock. If not, we'll be here all night."

"I'm assuming one of us is going to have to fly up there?" Ron stated.

"Well, seeming as Hermione and I are useless at flying…." Harry said, eager not to have to repeat what had happened when he had tried to get Neville's Remembrall back from Malfoy.

Ron walked over to the broom fearfully, knowing that he was the only one who had a chance of catching the key. At one touch of the broom, all of the keys came rushing towards Ron. He yelled.

"Quick Ron," Harry called, "Grab it. Quickly, you can do it."

Hermione called, "You can do it, Ron!"

Ron yelped in uncertainty as he tried to shoo away the attacking keys with his free arm. It took a while before Ron was able to successfully catch the right key as well as do plenty of yelling in frustration in the process. Ron ripped off the key's wings before throwing the key down. Hermione caught it and opened the door. He and Hermione inside the next room leaving the door open for Ron. Ron managed to just fly in quick enough to avoid being attacked by an angry swarm of keys.

"I am never, ever, EVER, doing that ever again!" said clearly traumatised Ron while he threw the broom to the floor, eager to see the end of it.

They turned around to see a giant chessboard. The pieces were made of beautiful marble, black on their side while white on the other. There were three empty places, one for a queen, one for a king and one for a knight to sit on a black marble horse.

"Woah!" Harry exclaimed, "I assume that we're going to have to play to get to the other side."

Hermione tried to walk over to the other side, the pawns all brought out their swords to block any way though. Flames erupted on the other side. There was obviously no way in hell that they were going to get through any other way.

"I was just checking," Hermione said, clearly embarrassed.

"Hmm…. What's going to happen if we lose?" Harry wondered with a frown.

"We're not going to lose Harry," Ron said, "I've been playing wizarding chess ever since I was young. Harry, we've been versing each other all year. If we can't get through this then we can't play wizarding chess at all. Besides, we need to protect that stone! Harry, you can be a king. Hermione, you're a queen. As for me, I'm a knight."

Harry, knowing that they had no choice, went to stand in the place designated for the king. Between the three of them, they all argued where each piece was going to go before every move was made. It ended up being more arguing that actual chess but they were eventually getting through. Eventually, pawns, castles, bishops, knights and other pieces were all but gone on both sides leaving the three of them, the white queen and the white king.

"There's only one more move to make. You see it, don't you, Harry? Once I make my move, the Queen will take me. Harry, you'll be free to check the king."

"No, Ron you can't!" Harry called.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"He's going to sacrifice himself!"

"Ron, stop! There must be another way."

"No, Hermione," Ron exclaimed glumly, "There is no other way. We need to do this. Do you want the stone to be in you-know-who's hands?"

Hermione just stared back stunned. Harry nodded his head solemnly.

Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Knight to H3."

Ron and his horse advanced to the next square, Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. The white Queen turned, advanced slowly towards Ron, then drew her sword and plunged it into Ron's horse, throwing him violently to the ground. Ron wasn't moving.

"Ron!" Harry yelled.

Hermione looked as though she was about to run over to him.

"No, Hermione – don't move. We need to finish the game."

Harry moved three squares diagonally to his left and then turned to face the King.

"Checkmate."

The white king's sword fell to the ground with an ear-splitting thud. Ron jolted but did not get up. For a moment, Harry allowed himself feel relief although it was far from over yet. The flames on the other side vanished, leaving them to cross. They both sprinted over to Ron.

"I'm awake." Ron muttered, "But I don't think I can get up. I think my leg is broken."

"That's ok. Just stay here. Hermione, I can go into the next room alone. I think I'll be alright. Just look after Ron."

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"I'm sure."

She looked at him understandingly, "Just look out for yourself. You're a great wizard, Harry."

"You're a great witch. We couldn't have made it this far if it wasn't for your brains."

"Books and cleverness," Hermione shook her head, "There are more important things in this world, like friendship and hope…"

"Can't you just get a move on already," Ron said impatiently, "Save all the heart-warming stuff for after we save the stone. We're not done yet."

"Shut it, Ron. What are we ever going to do with you?" Harry said jokingly, "I'll be seeing you guys later."

He really hoped that he would be seeing them again soon.

In the next room there was nothing but a dusty table which had seven potion flasks arranged in a line. All of different shapes and sizes. There was a note next to it. When Harry picked up the note, flames covered the entrance and the exit. The forward entrance had blue flames while the backward had orange flames. He had nowhere to run.

He read the poem. It was a logic puzzle. Now he really wished Hermione was here. He read the poem again and again. He then read it once more to see that there was nothing that he was missing.

'Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find.

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead.

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore.'

There would be only one potion that would allow him to move ahead. Unfortunately, there were three that were poison – he hoped that he had not chosen one of those. There was also one that would move him back and two nettle wine. The poem gave four clues.

'Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;'

So Harry concluded that he could note that the biggest and smallest bottles were safe. The three medium sized bottles were presumably not, so he discounted them. Bottles in-between, he was not overly suspicious of but supposed that they could be dangerous.

'Fourth, the second left and the second on the right,

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.'

This could suggest that the second left and second right are the nettle wine, unless they were the same kind of poison. However, as one was the largest bottle Harry concluded that they were nettle wine. They would not kill him, although he was in no mood for nettle wine.

'First, however slyly the poison tries to hide,

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;'

Considering that the second left and second right are the nettle wine, he could now conclude that to the left of these was poison. These were also medium sized bottles which confirmed his suspicions.

'Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;'

Since the first bottle to the left was poison and he already knew the positions of the nettle wines, Harry deducted that the last bottle on the right was the potion that would send him back. This left him torn between two different bottles in the middle, the tiniest bottle or the medium sized bottle. It was either poison or the forward potion. Harry remembered the third clue then chose. He was damn hoping he chose the right bottle.

He drunk the potion and felt relief over not dying, he walked through the blue flames.

The only thing in this room was the Mirror of Erised. This was the last challenge. The man Harry saw standing next to the Mirror of Erised was not what he imagined Voldemort to be.

"Quirrell? You're here? But why?"

Quirrell did not smile but rather continued to grimace at Harry. It was a death stare.

"Of course," the way Quirrell responded made it sound like a stupid question. The timid disposition as well as the stuttering and twitching that Quirrell once displayed were all gone.

"But why would you want the stone? I thought Volde-"

"Don't you dare speak his name!" Quirrell interrupted, "I was once a weak man, a foolish man. Until I discovered him on my travels and he showed me the way - the truth. That there is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it."

Harry was stunned; he expected to see a fully-fledged Voldemort in front of him. Quirrell was one of the last people Harry would have expected.

"Oh don't look so shocked!" Quirrell continued, "It was I who unleashed the troll on Halloween! It was I who tried to kill you in the forest that night when I was feasting on unicorn blood. I've been trying to kill you since you first stepped foot into Hogwarts. I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for Dumbledore and Snape. Snape never left me alone. I know Snape has many reasons. I have my theories about him, and you, but master refuses to listen."

"Snape? Dumbledore? I bet they could see right through you." Harry thought about his sarcastic potion's master and was surprised. Snape was the last person Harry would have considered to be helping him or even any student. Harry had no doubt that Dumbledore would have known all along, but why let Quirrell into the school if he suspected him.

"They kept an annoyingly close eye on me after the Forbidden Forest incident! But I don't have to worry about them. Not anymore. Once you're done and we have the stone, all will be as it should be."

"You'll never get the stone!"

Quirrell smirked, "We'll see about that."

"Ask the boy what he sees," the voice was raspy and came out like a hiss. Harry began to panic.

"Boy! Look into the mirror and tell us what you see!"

Harry looked into the mirror and saw what he had seen that night on Christmas; his mother, the sullen looking woman and his grandparents. They were all looking worried for him. He also saw his reflection wink and take something out of his pocket. It was a large ruby – the philosopher's stone. Harry was shocked. He pinched his pocket, surely enough it was there. He didn't dare to say anything.

"I'm older and I'm both Gryffindor Headboy and Qudditch captain. I'm holding both the House cup and Quidditch cup in either hand."

"He lies," The voice rasped again.

Quirrell began to yell, "Tell the truth! What do you see?!"

"I told you."

"Let him see meeee." The voice continued.

"But master, you are not strong enough." Quirrell protested.

"I am strong enough for thisssss…"

Quirrell unravelled his turban and turned around; on his bald head, a snake-like face began to form with bright red eyes and two slits for a nose. Harry felt sick. He wanted to run away but his legs were frozen.

"Harry Evans," The voice said resentfully, "The boy who lived. See what I have become? A mere parasite. I live off the body of another. Unicorn blood can sustain me… but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can; something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket…"

"NEVER!" Harry shouted.

"How touching. I always value bravery. Your mother died protecting you. Yes, she was quite brave. She did not need to die, I gave her the option of standing aside but she was still trying to protect you. Now give me the stone unless you want her to have died in vain."

Harry shook his head.

"Very well then. Quirrell!"

Quirrell leaped into the air and soared towards Harry in an instant. He grabbed Harry's throat and began to strangle. Harry expected to feel lightheaded but as soon as Quirrell touched him he began to burn and Quirrell took his hands off Harry. Quirrell's skin began to blister and chip away.

"Argh! Argh!" Quirrell screamed.

"Fool! GET THE STONE!" Voldemort's head rasped but surely enough, it began to chip as well.

Harry quickly jumped up and placed his hands onto Quirrell's face. The pain in Harry's scar was overwhelming. He lost consciousness.

Severus wasn't just mad, he was beyond furious. Dumbledore had done nothing to prevent this from happening. Three eleven-year-old children could have easily been killed in those trials. Harry should not have been the one to face Quirrell, it should have been him. He was an adult and a powerful wizard. Although he was secretly proud when Dumbledore told him that he solved his potions logic puzzle, he was ashamed to say that there were grown wizards and witches who didn't have that level of problem solving.

He was not pleased by Dumbledore's response: "We can't protect Harry forever Severus, as much as I would like to. There will come a time when Tom returns to a mortal body. We both know that. That maybe tomorrow, that maybe decades away, but it will be harmful if we lie to him. I knew Lily's sacrifice would protect him this time. He needs to realise early that Voldemort will seek to murder him at any cost. It is dangerous to allow him to take foolish risks, not being aware the consequences…"

"He's eleven years old, Albus. For goodness sakes! It's our job to protect him, then teaching him to defend himself when he is old enough."

"There was no other way to reveal Quirrell otherwise. I'm sorry. He was resistant to Veritaserum and your attempts at making him reveal the truth."

Severus narrowed his eyes and stormed out of the headmaster's office. His mind was made up, come next year he would be teaching Harry how to save himself. He wouldn't let the boy be used as mere live bait for Dumbledore's plans.

Harry opened his eyes to find himself in the hospital wing, not knowing how long he had been unconscious. The first thing he noticed was that his bedside table was filled with letters, lollies, chocolate and a large leather-bound book. On his bed, someone had covered the visible side of his invisibility cloak on top of him as a blanket.

"Some gifts from your friends and admirers. Naturally, the whole school knows everything."

Harry hadn't noticed Dumbledore was standing on the other side of his bed. The old man surveyed him with compassion, his usual friendliness and for a glimpse, Harry saw undeniable sadness. He wondered how long Dumbledore had been watching over him.

"Sorry, sir." Harry mumbled, "I didn't see you there. How long have I been unconscious?"

"For three days. I found you soon after Hermione came running to my office."

"How are my friends? Is Ron alright?"

Dumbledore smiled, "Your friends are fine. They've been some of the people visiting you."

There was a moment's silence before Harry decided to speak again. Harry was deep in thought; he had so many questions about what had just happened.

"Professor," he began, "Why did the stone appear in my pocket?"

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed, "That was a little clever idea of mine. Only someone who wanted the stone, but not use it for selfish reasons, would be able to retrieve it from the mirror."

"That would be a very rare person," Harry said, reflecting on the stone's capabilities and his own desire merely for the stone not to be in Voldemort's hands. If the circumstances had been different (without the threat of an immortal, all-powerful Voldemort), he admitted that he would have wanted the stone for himself.

"Yes, Nicholas and I have agreed that it is in the best interest of everyone that the stone is destroyed. Nicholas and his wife, Perenelle, will die soon but they still have enough time to get their affairs in order."

"Sir, why did Quirrell burn when he touched me?"

"It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark."

Harry reached up to touch his scar.

"No, no. This kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin."

"What is it?"

"Love, Harry. It's love." Dumbledore explained, "A power that Voldemort will never know."

He reflected upon that and remembered his mother's reflection in the Mirror of Erised, a beautiful woman with tabby red hair down to her knees. His life would have been so different had she lived. Why did she have to die?

"And you and Professor Snape are protecting me," Harry said calmly, "Why Snape?"

"Harry, Severus has a lot of debt. One of the ways he has agreed to repay it is through protecting you. He and your mother were also close friends as children."

Harry frowned; he wondered what kind of debt.

"Voldemort isn't dead, isn't he? He's going to come back."

"Yes, and we will have to defeat him. It's you he wants more than anything. But don't worry about that for the moment. Here you are perfectly safe."

Dumbledore had to leave soon after but he left Harry feeling anxious. Dumbledore's words were far from reassuring, but he would allow himself to feel happy for the rest of the semester before he would be forced to return to the Dursleys.