Ok I have now come up with a good final name for the book and the series, one I actually like. Without the Horcrux: The Philosopher Stone.
Namettez thank you for your review. I am not keen on Rene. Its to masculine for Hermione (and French). I am thinking about just gutting it all together. The nicknames aren't going to play much of a role till book 3 either way. As for Neville, a plant name is a grand idea.
Please review eh.
Chapter: 14- Not Alone.
Waking the next morning Harry was shocked to find that he was in the hospital wing. That was until he realised that last night wasn't just one terrible dream. Even worse, Madam Pomphrey was like a demon from hell. It didn't matter how many times he told her that he was fine, she still nagged him, examined him, and pumped him full of odd looking and disgusting tasting potions. Thankfully, he had Ron and Hermione to share in his misfortune. If for nothing else for Ron's face at having to take all those awful potions.
Unfortunately, they weren't left for very long. Soon Professor McGonagall came, and she wasn't looking like she was in a good mood. Her lips were so thin they had nearly disappeared on her face, as she approached them.
"Good morning" she said briskly. "Madam Pomphrey informs me that the three of you are in fine health. You are all discharged from the Hospital Wing." She said, as she gave each of her three students a scrutinising gaze. "Now if you will accompany me to the Headmasters office, we can finish the investigation into the incident last night." At that, she stood to the side as she indicated with her hands for them to follow.
The three Gryffindors followed their head of house, unsure of what was about to happen. Surely, they wouldn't be expelled Harry thought. He couldn't go back to the Dursley's he just couldn't. Taking a glance at Ron and Hermione, he was sure from their gloom expressions they were thinking the same thing. They continued in silence till they stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.
"Chocolate Eclairs" she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Even full of dread for what was coming, Harry couldn't fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator.
"Follow me" Professor McGonagall said, gesturing for them to climb up the stairs with her as they rose upwards on the stone escalator. They continued to rise floor by floor, until at last, Harry saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. The three students all stared at the door ahead of them, as Professor McGonagall moved forwards and knocked on the innate brass knocker with a loud "clang, clang." That echoed through the small antechamber.
"Enter." They heard, as the door opened before them granting them access to the Headmasters Office. As they entered Harry was drawn to the room before them.
It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindlelegged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk where sat the smiling form of Albus Dumbledore.
"Good morning" He said calmly, as thee three of them grabbed comfy chintz chairs in front of the desk. Dumbledore was just sitting there in front of them, a reassuring smile on his face and his eyes twinkling away. "I must say, you three had a most interesting night last night. Breaking might I add nearly a half dozen school rules, not to mention a few laws." He said as his eyes rose above his half-moon spectacles as he gazed upon the three terrified pupils.
"Albeit troubling, after discussing things with Hagrid I have come to the conclusion your actions were for the best. Though I would caution you against any future midnight strolls in the forest. Not least for the week of detention Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape would be more than willing to give you" he added with a chuckle.
At that Harry's heart lightened considerably, he wasn't going to be expelled. Gaging from the relieved breaths he heard from Ron and Hermione beside him, they were equally relieved.
"Though I would like to hear a more detailed description of the other events that occurred. I believe last night Miss Granger only got as far as describing the events of Quirinus return from when you kindly blasted him away from the unicorn— So, could you three please continue your tale." Said Dumbledore, motioning for them to start.
Hermione never one to not answer a question instantly went to her dictation mode, describing the events of what happened. "Well sir, the monster, Professor Quirrell that is. He lunged at us, when we tried to bandage the unicorns wound. It happened oh so quickly one moment we looked up at the noise and the next, Ron and I are thrown a dozen feet away. He then went to Harry and well umm… Harry umm..."
"I err… I disarmed him. I must have caught a him off guard." Said Harry quietly. "He then came at my neck, but err… I don't really know what happened next—his hands just err… well burned when I tried to get him to let go. He then tried to get his wand, but Ron and Hermione had already gotten back up and stopped him."
As he spoke Harry could feel a headache coming along, he didn't know why till he looked up, the Headmaster was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. Just like the sorting hat and Snape. Quickly he brought his eyes down to stare into his lap. Breaking eye contact and the connection with the Headmaster. If his receding headache was any indication at least.
There was a very awkward pause.
Dumbledore seemed not to have missed Harry's sudden downward gaze. As he stared at his pupil, with a slightly astonished expression on his face.
"Err… yes, did Voldemort say anything? To you, after he broke free from his possession."
At Dumbledore's mention of Voldemort Ron, Hermione and McGonagall all gave nervous jerk. As if they had all been lightly shocked.
"Yes, he said somethings Headmaster." Harry said while still staring intently into his lap.
"Would you three, care to elaborate? It may be important." Dumbledore gently pushed.
"Err… well he said something about not being dead… and how he was going to return… and seeking revenge… oh and he mentioned the stone too." Ron answered nervously.
"I see. Well then it seems fortunate that the Stone, has been destroyed."
"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"
"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."
"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?" Hermione said shocked at the thought.
"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."
Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on their faces.
"To ones as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." As the three children sat there confused on such a casual take on death.
"But its err… still better to live isn't it."
"Yes Mr. Weasley life is a beautiful thing. But death is a fundamental part of it. One cannot truly live without death. Just the sun cannot rise without setting."
"Sir?" said Harry. "He said that he was going to return even without the stone. Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"
"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."
Harry nodded at that. Voldemort was going to return one day… was going to come after him. If not for being the boy-who-lived then for what happened in the forest.
"Now I believe that is all. You are all free to go and rejoin your classes. It would be best if you three kept the details of the events to yourself, I do not think it a good idea to cause a panic amongst your classmates." Dumbledore said as he dismissed them from his office.
As three Gryffindors were being herded out of the office by Professor McGonagall, Harry turned to the aged headmaster. "Sir, I was wondering if I could ask a few questions?"
"Certainly, my boy. Minerva can you please escort Miss Granger, and Mr. Weasley out, Mr. Potter will follow them shortly."
Professor McGonagall replied with a nod as she led Ron and Hermione out of the office.
Once they were alone Dumbledore said. "Now my boy, you said you had a few questions for me?"
"Err… Yes sir… I was wondering why Quirrell couldn't touch me."
"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that love as powerful as your mothers for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."
"Love?" Harry asked skeptically. For an orphan that had never known love. Those words were both heart-wrenching and confusing. He had always dreamt of finding someone to love him when he was alone locked in the cupboard. To hear that his mother loved him so much that she gave up her life for him, was beyond anything he could have believed. But could it be true, love wasn't well anything. It was a feeling; how could that protect him?
"Yes love. Love is a magic all of its own." Dumbledore said as he smiled down at Harry. His eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles but not in the peering gaze that they had before, but a warm encouraging one. "Your mother was an extraordinary witch. In her sacrifice, she channeled her love for you into an ancient protection. It was that protection that saved you that night, just like it was that protection that prevented Quirrell from touching you.
Magic is far more then wands, potions and incantations. There is a deeper magic, an ancient magic. That is all-encompassing. Far too often the foolish wizard, like Voldemort believes they can control it. That they alone can master it. Wield it to their will. — But that is no more than hubris. Magic has a will of its own.
Take for example the Philosopher Stone. A magical construct that provides eternal youth, and eternal riches. Yet in truth, it provides neither. No one can live forever, as my friends Nicholas and Perenelle have come to realise. It was not Voldemort's threat to the stone that was the underlining reason for their decision. But the weariness of time. Magic may prolong life but it cannot grant immortality as those truly versed in alchemy know. The stone had prolonged their lives to the near limit, but there is a limit. The elixir no longer provided them the same vitality as it once did. Their bodies became frail and so too did their magic. After centuries of protecting the stone from would be assailants, thieves and dark lords they found themselves unable to. Time had caught up. That is why they first choose to protect the stone at Gringotts and later in my care. And that is why they have no qualms in destroying the stone. Magic has its limits."
Harry's confusion must have shown on his face as Dumbledore just smiled indulgently. "It is a lot to take in, isn't it? Magical has all these wonders all at the flick of a wand. To think that that is only the most primitive of magic, can be somewhat overwhelming."
Harry nodded his accent. Overwhelming seemed like a good word for it. Before understanding it hit him "instinct?"
"What was that my boy?"
"You are talking about instinct…. It is like in the case with Quirrell, I had no reason to suspect him, when we realised someone was trying to steal the stone that is. If anything, everything pointed to Snape…
"Professor Snape Harry" Dumbledore chastised.
"Yes, err… him. He fit the description perfectly, he hates me like he hated my father. He went to the third floor on Halloween. We even caught him cursing my broom. But Sn… err… Professor Snape wasn't going after the stone. Nothing pointed to Quirrell, but something always felt off about him. I don't know how to explain it but… it was just a feeling in the pit of my stomach that said all wasn't right."
Dumbledore looked on curiously "It seems you are full of surprises my boy. I had a similar experience with Quirrell. Something didn't quite feel right. But alas, I couldn't find any evidence of misdeeds. There was always a credible explanation for Quirrell's odd behaviour, and peculiar magical presence. In regards to Professor Snape Harry, I assure you he has my utmost confidence. Nor, was he cursing your broom. He was in fact uttering a counter curse."
"Snape was trying to save me?" Harry said shocked. "But he hates me."
"Professor Snape Harry is a professor at this school, he would not harm a student." Dumbledore said firmly, leaving no room for disagreement. Even though Harry had a rather sudden urge to point out Quirrell was a Professor as well.
"As for Professor Snape's dislike of you Harry. It is a bit complicated. As you seem to already know, your father and Professor Snape did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Professor Snape could never forgive."
"What?"
"He saved his life."
"What?"
"Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt... I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace..."
Regardless of the fact that Snape did try to save him, it didn't really change how he felt about him. Snape was still a total prat, a petty little man who delights, in bulling children. Though he dared not say that to the Headmaster. He is Professor Snape after all, Harry thought ruefully.
"Well if that is all the questions my boy, I think it would be best if your rejoined your classmates."
Harry began to leave, but stopped half way across the large circular office. There was still one burning question that he had to know. Had to make sure of.
"Voldemort, he's going to come after me, isn't he?"
Dumbledore stared at a moment, as his face contorted into a deep frown.
"Yes, he will." Dumbledore replied morosely. "Though hopefully, it isn't for many years from now."
Harry simply nodded in response and continued out of the office.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. There were loads of whispering behind his back as people discussed the hundred different rumours flying around. But Harry paid them no heed. He could care less what the rumours said, it's not like it really mattered after all. Not after today at any rate.
"Harry will you talk to us mate?" Ron asked.
Harry had been sulking in the Den for an hour. Sitting in his favourite stuffed chair by the fire place that glowed a vibrant azure.
"Come on Harry, you need to talk about it" Hermione pleaded. Worry etched on her face. "It not healthy, to just bottle it all up."
Harry just ignored it.
"It's not your fault. Dumbledore said as much." Hermione said. As she stood up and went to hug him. Harry recoiled at the gesture, wholly uncomfortable with that kind of contact. As he looked up he could see the hurt in Hermione's eyes, and the startled look in Ron's.
Breathing in deeply he readied himself for what he knew he had to do. It would suck, but that couldn't be helped. "I don't think we should be friends anymore." Harry said quickly, casting his eyes downward unable to look at his friends as he spoke.
"Wha"-"Harrie" They both said, shock and sadness etched into their voices.
"It's for the best." Harry said though his voice betrayed his true feelings.
"But mate".
"Why Harry. Please tell us why, we deserve to know!" Hermione said fiercely. Braving a look Harry saw her eyes narrowed sharply, with tears leaking from them.
"I don't care that I killed Quirrell." Hermione looked ready to protest, but Harry cut her off. "Don't try to say differently, Hermione. You know it's true, regardless of what Dumbledore said. The thing is it doesn't bother me. The bastard was trying to kill us, he had bloody Voldemort on the back of his head for Christ sakes!" Harry ranted. Ron and Hermione both noticeably flinched at the dark lord's name.
"He is going to come after me ok. One day he is going to return, and when he does he is going to try to do me in." said Harry. Looking at his two best friends. The first real friends he had ever had. "Don't you see. I'm dangerous. If you hang around me you will be a target. I can live with Quirrell's death on my conscience. But I couldn't live with yours." Harry spoke with emotion in his voice, all the while trying to blink the tears away.
Ron and Hermione both looked stupefied, as they made sense of the rant.
Seeing their stunned faces Harry turned his back to them.
"I don't care!" said Ron defiantly.
"Wha…"
"Me either" Hermione agreed.
"You don't understand. Either of you. I am not going to involve you in my problems."
"NO, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Ron shouted. Turning to face him Harry saw Ron's face was all red and full of fury, as he screamed. "YOU THINK ITS JUST YOUR GUESS WHAT HARRY ITS NOT. THEY KILLED MY FAMILY IN THE LAST WAR. MY UNCLES KILLED BY DEATH EATERS. IF YOU-KNOW-WHO RETURNED DO REALLY THINK WE WOULD BE SAFE… I AM FROM ONE OF THE BIGGEST BLOOD TRAITOR FAMILIES AROUND, AND HERMIONE'S A MUGGLE-BORN, WE WOULD BE HUNTED DOWN TOO YOU KNOW!"
"We're not leaving you Harry, so I would get that right out of your head." Said Hermione waspishly.
"But guys." Harry pleaded.
"But nothing. If he comes back it just means we will have to be prepared."
"Prepared how Hermione?" Harry asked
"We are going to have to learn how to defend ourselves. And I mean really defend ourselves. Not just prank jinxes, but real serious defensive magic." She said seriously.
"Ok" was all Harry said as he stared at his two best friends, as it finally sunk in that for the first time since his parent's death, he wasn't alone.
My thoughts, for the Dumbledore long speech regarding magic. In a lot of ways, I drew my thoughts from Burke's critique of Fox and the New Whigs, and also the evolution of the East and West after the Great Schism. Both of which I feel have their place in the story Ms. Rowling wrote. The books are actually rather odd. In many ways, the books have this progressive narrative. In some ways, a very conservative one. In some ways, rationalistic. In others, an anti-rational theme. Contradictions seem to be everywhere, yet work.
The best example is Luna vs. Hermione. Hermione is the epitome of reason. She dominates most of her classes. She reads, she learns, she masters techniques. But she is limited a priori. To her the world is rational. There is a deductive element to everything (I am sure as a witch she weights as much as a duck). Magic on the other hand is mystic. Something that Luna or Trelawny embrace, and to a degree Harry as well (Like at Shell cottage, or his instincts when he walks to die). In this story Harry is going to be more in touch with the mystical side. Not to the same extents as Luna or Trelawny. But enough that there he is going to rely heavily on instinct, and the organic element of magic.
Regarding the stone. I have few qualifiers that I am putting into the story. No magic grants eternal life. The stone will prolong life, and heal someone who is on the brink of death. But will eventually cease to be effective. As the Flamel's found out after nearly 500 years of use.
Something similar will be true of the horcruxes. 1 they won't be able to stop a body from ageing and decaying. They just stop a soul from moving on. 2 they will have a limit. As in how many times you can split your soul, and how long the Horcrux will last. I am going to say the Horcrux will lose power eventually. So, one would have to continue to absorb the soul piece back and remake it. After a certain amount of time.
There are a few other qualifiers I will add to the story as it progresses. Particularly regarding time travel (I plan on ignoring it), and the inability to permanently conjure things