Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.

HP – HP – HP

As Harry, Susan, and Professor Sprout entered the room that contained the potions puzzle, he looked over to where Ernie had fallen, but did not see his friend. "Minerva brought him to the Hospital Wing," Sprout said in a quavering voice in response to his unasked question. "Albus wanted me to go, but... but I couldn't go until I knew that you two were safe." She took a deep, shuddering breath as she ushered them out past the chess men, who were now all standing off to the sides of the room.

When they reached the room with the flying keys, Sprout opened her mouth to speak once more, but closed it without saying anything. It was in that moment that Harry was struck by the changes that had been wrought in his head of house in just the few hours since he'd last seen her. Fear and worry had etched lines into her face that had not been there before, and a concerned frown had replaced her welcoming smile.

"Professor," Harry said, hesitantly, as he struggled to find the right words. "Thank you, for coming down here for us." She stopped rigidly beneath the devil's snare- her own contribution to the Stone's defenses- looking for all the world as though she'd been hit with a petrification hex, as Harry spoke.

She turned, slowly, to face Harry and Susan, and took another deep breath. Harry was relieved to see that she had a somewhat less strained expression. "Thank you, Mr. Potter... Harry. But I can't help but feel as though I've let you and Miss Bones- and the rest of your cohort- down."

Harry shook his head and was about to respond, but Susan beat him to it. "He got me, too, Professor. I couldn't fight it. He... he tried to make me kill Harry! I-" Susan's words cut off as she let out a sob, and Sprout immediately swept her up into a hug.

"There, there, Susan, it's not your fault," she said as she held the crying girl, who had buried her face into Sprout's robes as she wept. "That curse is a terrible thing. Even fully qualified witches can't fight it." In a quieter voice, she added, "Even I couldn't. No one holds you to blame." Sprout's eyes stared into the distance for a moment before they sought out Harry, who shook his head to reassure her.

"I don't blame you Susan. I didn't think it was really you trying to get me. Not like you were the time I spilled ink on your potions essay!"

"Prat," she said, but Harry could hear the faint amusement in his friend's voice.

Harry sought out Sprout's gaze, as now that Susan was feeling a bit better, she was no longer meeting his eyes. "I don't blame you, either, Professor. You tried to help. You believed us. It's more than I'm used to from adults, to be honest. It's not your fault that Quirrell... that Voldemort cursed you. You did your best."

The words sounded weak to Harry's ears, but the sentiment behind them was enough, it seemed. Sprout's eyes were suspiciously watery as she pulled him into a brief hug as well, and Harry could see the worry and fear ease off her shoulders. Her voice, too, regained some of its usual warmth and confidence.

"Now, then, what do you say we go up and see the rest of your friends, hmm?"

HP – HP – HP

Harry knew it was too good to be true to hope that he'd be spared a visit to one of Madam Pomfrey's beds, but the lingering weakness and faint head pain ensured that he, too, would be staying overnight at the very least. Fortunately, this time he would have good company.

"'Lo Harry," came Justin's voice as Pomfrey shooed Harry towards one of the few open beds. He could see Hannah at the bed closest to the window chatting quietly with Megan, who had a dazed-looking smile that told him Pomfrey had dosed her rather heavily with potions. McGonagall was there, too, to Harry's surprise, speaking with a rather chagrined Ernie, who was taking the lecture with good grace. At Justin's greeting, though, all of the Hufflepuffs- and McGonagall- looked up as one.

"Harry!" Hannah shouted, and ran towards him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare worry us like that again!"

Harry gently extricated himself from the excited blonde's grasp, and she dashed over to Susan to give her a hug as well. Harry found himself wearing a relieved smile now that he saw that all of his friends were safe and on the mend. Sprout, too, seemed rather relieved to see everyone okay, and quietly excused herself so Harry and his friends could have their moment. He allowed himself to be led over to the bed next to Megan's and sat down. On cue, it seemed, his friends quieted, looking to him expectantly.

"Hi Harry!" Megan said in an overly-happy tone of voice that brought amused smiles to the other Hufflepuffs and broke the silence. "I saw a troll."

Harry's smile fell immediately, and everyone else's looks sobered as well.

"Yes, Miss Jones, you did. Now why don't you go ahead and lay down and rest a bit," Madam Pomfrey said gently as she moved to the other side of Harry's bed and pulled the covers up to Megan's chin.

"'Kay," came the sleepy, almost slurred response, and within moments Megan was asleep. The awkward silence was soon filled with soft, incoherent mumblings that would have had Harry smiling had the circumstances been different.

"Skele-Grow," said Pomfrey as Megan drifted off. "It doesn't mix very well with other potions, but given the extent of her injuries..."

"She'll be okay?" Harry asked, worry once more creeping in and wrapping itself tightly around his chest.

The mediwitch nodded, and Harry felt the tightness loosen. "She'll be here for several days, but she should be right as rain by next weekend."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, and glanced around at his other friends- particularly Ernie and Justin, who like himself and Megan, were confined to beds.

"'M fine too, Harry. Madam Pomfrey just waved her wand a few times and I was all set. Still won't let me leave, though," Justin said, with a sullen glance towards Pomfrey, who didn't deign to notice.

"It was just a Drought of Living Death, Harry. I'd have woken right up from the bezoar if it wasn't Snape's special brew. I suppose the old bat has a few useful tricks after all, eh?" Ernie said with a smile.

"Mr. Macmillan!" McGonagall said, pressing her lips together in disapproval, though Harry thought that he saw, if he looked very closely, the tiniest hint of humor in her eyes. "I will pardon your disrespect on account of the fact that you are recovering from the effects of a rather potent potion, but such a thing had best not pass your lips in my hearing again. Am I perfectly clear?"

"But Professor, Madam Pomfrey gave me the antidote. I'm perfectly-" he cut off at the flat look from McGonagall. "Er, right, it was a bit strong, wasn't it. In fact, I still feel a bit sleepy. I think I might just go for a bit of a nap myself, right Professor?"

"Quite, Mr. Macmillan," she said, and this time Harry was sure he saw the amusement in her eyes as Ernie rolled to his side and feigned sleep. Harry couldn't hide his grin as Ernie winked at him.

McGonagall turned to face him. "Mr. Potter, if I might have a word before you become too involved with catching up with your friends?"

Harry nodded. "Sure, Professor."

McGonagall walked over to his bed, drawing her wand and deftly waving it in the air around them. Megan's mutterings disappeared, as did the sound of Pomfrey ushering an unresisting Susan into a bed on the other side of Justin.

She sighed and frowned at him. "Mr. Potter, what on Earth possessed you to go after Professor Quirrell? You and your friends could have been killed!"

"What other choice did I have?" Harry countered, feeling a bit put upon that she'd confront him like this.

"Choice? Perhaps you ought to have informed a professor, Mr. Potter," she said, her lips thinning even further in displeasure.

"I told Professor Sprout. She came back awhile later and told me everything was fine, even though I knew it wasn't. Of course, I didn't realize she'd been cursed at the time..."

"Yes, the Headmaster had mentioned... but Mr. Potter, you could have come to me, or even gone directly to Professor Dumbledore."

"The only reason I went to Professor Sprout at all was because I'd promised my friends I would. I didn't really thing she'd believe me. I was really surprised when she did."

McGonagall seemed taken aback by that. "Why ever would you think that? All your professors take our students' safety very seriously."

"Except Quirrell," Harry muttered, and McGonagall's frown returned.

"That still does not explain why you didn't bring this to myself or the Headmaster."

Harry sighed as his frustration mounted. "Why? Professor, I don't really expect adults do much. They never do." Harry considered telling her about Dumbledore sending himself and Hannah into the Forbidden Forest, but he decided not to. That was something he still wanted to properly confront the Headmaster about.

"Mr. Potter... Harry... why would you feel that way?" Her voice was much warmer, much more concerned than it had been.

"Professor, you saw the Dursleys. Could you see me relying on them for anything? Everyone else in Little Whinging thinks I'm some sort of delinquent, thanks to my Aunt and Uncle."

McGonagall sighed, knowing Harry spoke truly about the adults back home. "But surely you know you can rely on the adults here at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter." Her statement was almost a question, as though she feared to know the answer.

"Professor, can you really see me going to beg Snape for help?"

"Professor Snape."

"See, that's what I mean!" Harry said in nearly a shout as his frustration boiled. "Considering that the one time I tried to bring how Snape acts to an adult, nothing at all happened, except that Snape got even nastier than before. Everyone here just leaps to his defense!"

"Mr. Potter, whatever your personal feelings on the man, he is a Hogwarts professor and deserves your respect."

Harry just sighed yet again. This was obviously not a battle he would win any time soon. "And that's why I didn't want to go running to an adult. The only other choices were to do nothing and let Quirrell- let Voldemort- have the Stone, or to do my best to stop them. Somehow, we managed to win."

"You should consider yourself very, very lucky for that, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her voice firm once more now that they were on safer ground.

"I know. But I couldn't stand by and do nothing, and I couldn't rely on anyone else to do it, either."

McGonagall looked at him quietly for a moment. "You would have made a fine Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked around the unnaturally silenced hospital wing. Justin was trying to play exploding snap by himself- and losing, by the looks of it- while Ernie kept sneaking peeks at McGonagall and pretending to be asleep. Megan was still fast asleep, while Susan and Hannah were both sitting up in Susan's bed, chatting animatedly and giggling. "Thank you, Professor," Harry said, smiling as he took in the antics of his friends, "but Hufflepuff is my home."

HP – HP – HP

Harry was unsurprised when Dumbledore slipped quietly into the Hospital Wing after the rest of the Hufflepuffs had finally gone to sleep. He and Susan had both been reluctant to go into too much detail about what happened with Quirrell, but they'd finally managed to satisfy everyone's curiousity without getting too deep into uncomfortable topics.

But Harry knew that the Headmaster would want to speak with him personally about his confrontation with Quirrell, and stayed up knowing that it wouldn't be long before Dumbledore sought him out.

"I am most pleased to find you awake, Harry," the wizened man said quietly as he gestured almost lazily with his distinctive wand. Ernie's snores and Megan's mutterings immediately vanished, much as had happened before with McGonagall. "Madam Pomfrey has been most distressed about the condition of most of Hufflepuff's first year, but I'm pleased that all of you will make a full recovery."

Harry nodded. He, too, was pleased that he and his friends would come out of the previous nights events none the worse for wear. Physically, at least.

"I was hoping that I might speak with you about what happened with Professor Quirrell last night, Harry."

Harry nodded again, having suspected as much. "He had Susan under some kind of curse. He tried to make her kill me."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression grave. "It is called the Imperious Curse, Harry. It is a vile thing, taking control of someone's will in such a manner."

"Well, she was trying to kill me, but, well, I think he did it just because he knew making me fight Susan would upset me. But I wasn't fighting, I was just trying to get her to wake up. She managed to knock me down, but I got a shield charm up before she could curse me again. Her spell bounced off my shield and hit the mirror. That's when Quirrell got really mad- started shouting about the Stone. I guess the mirror had something to do with it?"

"Yes, Harry, the Stone is gone. I had placed it in the mirror, as no one who wanted to use the stone would be able to find it that way. It is for the best, I think. I can only hope I can convince Nicholas to see it that way too," Dumbledore said as his gaze turned away from Harry for a moment, while Harry did his very best not to show any reaction of his own. It would not do for the Headmaster to realize that Harry had in fact succeeded in rescuing the Stone- at least, not until Harry decided what exactly he was going to do with it.

"Well, that's when he and Voldemort started arguing. He took off his turban so that Voldemort could speak with us directly. He offered to spare us if we'd give in to him, but Susan shouted at him that she'd rather die than give in." Harry smiled. "She was really brave."

Dumbledore smiled, too. "Yes, Harry, that was very brave of her. Many wizards and witches were not nearly so brave when faced with Lord Voldemort."

Harry shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. He tried to curse us again, so I tackled him. It felt like I was burning, but then Quirrell started screaming, and then, well, that's about when you and Professor Sprout got there."

"I see. Harry, you were very, very brave last night, braver than anyone could ever have asked of you-"

Harry interrupted him. "My friends were, too. They were all scared, but not a single one of them was willing to let me go alone. They were the really brave ones."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Indeed, Harry. Now, I'm certain you have some things you wish to ask me before we say farewell for the evening?"

Harry nodded, but his first words came out before he could stop himself. "You'll tell me the truth?"

Fortunately, Dumbledore did not seem offended. "The truth, Harry, is both a terrible and wondrous thing, and thus should be handled with great caution. I shall not, of course, lie."

He figured that was about as good as he would get. "How was I able to stop Quirrell? I don't understand why he started burning up like that when I touched him."

"Harry, there are some things in this world far greater than any sort of magic we learn here at Hogwarts. Love is, perhaps, the greatest force of all." Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's incredulous look, then grew somber. "Harry, when your mother gave her life for yours, she gave you a very powerful protection, more powerful than any mere spell. I believe that Voldemort cannot bear the touch of one who has been so protected."

Harry nodded, not really understanding but also knowing that he had no knowledge that might help him to understand, or refute, the headmaster's claim. Dumbledore seemed to catch that Harry didn't really get it, though.

"There are many kinds of love, Harry, and while you may not understand today, it is my sincerest hope that you will some day. Love for your friends, for instance, is something that I believe you possess a great deal of, even if you have never thought of it in those terms. That is a powerful thing, Harry."

Harry was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Why me, Professor? Why did Voldemort come after me, and why does he keep trying?"

"Alas, Harry, that is one question that I do not feel that I can in good conscience answer at this time."

Harry frowned. "Why not, Professor? It seems like that's something sort of important for me to know."

"Indeed, Harry, it is of great importance. You are most certainly correct about that. But the answer is rather complicated, and I do not feel that you are yet old enough to face it."

"Sir, respectfully, I was old enough to send into the Forbidden Forest to draw out Voldemort..."

Dumbledore's expression grew pained. "Yes, Harry. You are correct. I should not have done that, to you or to Miss Abbott. I am afraid that my desire to stop Voldemort from gaining further access to the school rather clouded my judgement."

"Further access? You knew?" Harry was incredulous. All that, and Dumbledore knew that Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort?

But Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry. I suspected that Professor Quirrell was up to something, and thought that perhaps that something had to do with Voldemort, but I did not know until Miss Abbott found Hagrid and myself and told me that you were going to attempt to stop him from gaining the Stone."

"What Quirrell said as we were walking away... he said 'tell him.' What did he mean."

Dumbledore hesitated. "Harry, Professor Quirrell was in great pain. He was dying. The strain of being possessed by Voldemort, on top of the protections you carry, were too much for him."

Harry persisted. "You didn't answer the question, sir."

Dumbledore gave Harry a searching look, staring at him for what seemed an eternity, before letting out a heavy sigh and nodding. "Very well, Harry. I suppose that you have more than earned the right to this information. I had hoped not to burden you with this for some time. There was a prophecy made regarding you and Voldemort. I will not tell you the exact wording, nor will I share more than Voldemort already knows."

Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall Harry's protest. "Harry, I must impress upon you the very real danger that knowing even as much as I will share tonight brings you. If anyone were to learn that you knew the full truth, the consequences could be most dire. Even with what I will share with you tonight, Harry, I must have your most solemn promise that you will tell this to no one, not even your friends."

Harry didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from his friends- from friends who had just hours ago risked their lives to help Harry stop Voldemort, but at the same time the information that Dumbledore had seemed too important to ignore.

"I won't tell anyone, sir, but I would like to be allowed to at some point in the future. I don't like keeping secrets from my friends."

Dumbledore nodded, but there was still no smile on the Headmaster's face. "That is acceptable Harry, though I warn you that such permission will not come for several years, if at all. As I said, there was a prophecy made regarding you and Voldemort. Simply put, the first part of that prophecy stated that one would be born who had the power to vanquish the dark lord. The prophecy specifies that this person would be born at the end of July, to those who had defied Voldemort three times."

"My parents..."

"Were very much enemies of Voldemort and had faced him directly on three different occasions, surviving each time. There were very few people who can claim to have survived Voldemort even once." Dumbledore's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, so Harry was unashamed of his own threatening to fall. "Your parents were truly wonderful and extraordinary people."

"That's why he keeps coming after me, isn't it? He thinks I'm a danger to him."

"Harry, you are very much a danger to him, as you proved last night, and as you proved in the forest. I must confess that, when you were sorted to Hufflepuff, I feared that you would not have the strength to face Voldemort."

"Hufflepuff is a great house, Professor. Just because I'm not a Gryffindor doesn't mean I can't be brave, any more than not being a Ravenclaw makes me dumb."

"Indeed, you are quite right, Harry, and I certainly meant no offense towards Hufflepuff. It is a fine house, and many great wizards and witches have come from Helga's house. But you must admit that facing Voldemort takes exceptional bravery, and right or wrong, bravery is expected of a Gryffindor more than it is of a Hufflepuff. I am most pleased to have been mistaken, Harry, and I must admit, you are handling this information much better than I had thought."

"Sir, Voldemort was already interested in me. Now I just know why."

Dumbledore couldn't refute that logic. "Very astute, Harry, and wise beyond your years."

"I had one more question, sir."

"By all means, Harry."

"Why do I live with Dursleys?"

Whatever Dumbledore was expecting Harry to ask, he certainly was not expecting that. He appeared more surprised than Harry had ever seen him.

Harry pressed on. "My friends who grew up in the wizarding world seemed really surprised that I grew up with muggles. They said that loads of people would have been willing to take me in after... after that Halloween."

Dumbledore sighed. "The Dursleys are your family, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "I'm related to loads of people in the wizarding world, through my dad. I'm even related to Malfoy!" Harry didn't bother to hide his disgust at that thought.

"Yes, Harry, but Petunia was your mother's only family. That was why you went to the Dursleys."

"But why did it have to be my mother's family? Sure, she might only have Aunt Petunia, but my father has loads of relatives, even if they're not that close."

Dumbledore frowned, but after a long moment of consideration let out a deep sigh. "Very well, Harry. As I mentioned, your mother's sacrifice gave you a very powerful protection. That protection exists in part because of your connection to your aunt, who you share your mother's blood with. So long as you can call the Dursleys' home your own, you are protected beyond any wards even the most powerful witches and wizards could provide."

Harry scowled. "That place is not my home!"

"I understand all too well that you have not had a happy childhood with Vernon and Petunia, and for that, Harry, I am terribly sorry. But I can make no apologies for keeping you safe. It is that protection that very likely helped save your life tonight. Were you no longer able to call the Dursleys home your own, much of that protection would be lost forever."

Harry just sighed and let his head fall back against his pillow. "There must be some way..."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you must spend at least part of your summers with the Dursleys, in order to maintain the strength of the protections and wards."

Harry perked up at that. "Only part of the summer? Then if I can find a friend to stay with...?"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, and nodded. "Yes, Harry, though it would be best if you stay with the Dursleys at least until your birthday. And I would ask that you send word of your plans to me so that I might know that you are safe."

Harry nodded his agreement. That was certainly reasonable.

"Excellent, Harry. Thank you. Now, I should let you find some rest, lest Madam Pomfrey decide that your tiredness in morning means you ought to spend another day in her care!"

Dumbledore's smile drew a like one from Harry, and the two shared a good laugh before Harry found himself drawn into a restful sleep. He was still unsure if the Headmaster was telling him all of the information he would need, but at least Dumbledore had made a good start. It would be enough, for now.

HP – HP – HP

The next few days were both awkward and wonderful for Harry. He'd gone down to breakfast alongside Ernie and Susan, who were let out at the same time as he was. Justin, much to his displeasure, would be in the Hospital Wing for at least another day, while Megan still had a week or more in Madam Pomfrey's care.

The trio was rather shocked when they saw the great hourglasses that kept track of the house points. Two days before, Slytherin had had a substantial lead over second place Hufflepuff, but today Hufflepuff had a commanding lead over the other houses. It was apparent that the other houses were as surprised by this turn of events as Harry was, as the Great Hall was even louder than usual as various bits of gossip reached Harry's ears.

"I hear that there was another monster in the school, and Harry Potter and his friends fought it!"

"It's got to have something to do with Quirrell, hasn't it? He's been gone two days now!"

"Sprout was probably mad that something happened to her first years, and blamed it on Slytherin."

Harry and his friends just shared knowing glances as they made their way to their table, where Hannah was already waiting.

The following days weren't much better, as the rumors continued to fly. Dumbledore had taken over Defense classes for the rest of term, and it was obvious to the students that whatever had happened to Quirrell had also involved the Hufflepuff first years.

On the other hand, Sprout seemed to make it a personal mission to ensure that Hufflepuff kept their lead. Every point that Snape tried to take from Harry was doubly returned by Sprout, and it wasn't long before the Slytherin head gave up trying to take points unjustly altogether.

The entirety of Hufflepuff house seemed to be respecting Harry and his friends' privacy, thankfully, though there was a small celebration when Justin returned to the dorms a couple days later. Megan, of course, was still bedridden, but the potions had mostly run their course and she was back to her usual self, if a bit grumpy at being stuck in bed. Harry and his friends made sure to visit her daily, and he also loaned her his wireless so she could listen to the Holyhead Harpies quidditch match that weekend. Her return a week and a half later brought another party, and they were able to mostly put their adventure behind them- everyone was back, safe, and well.

Though Harry kept his promise to Dumbledore about not sharing what he knew of the prophecy, he made sure to tell his friends everything else the Headmaster had shared that night, including the fact that he wasn't allowed to share that one bit of information. To his surprise (and pleasure), once his friends knew that he would be able to leave the Dursleys after his birthday, he was inundated with invitations all around. He would not want for company after July 31.

Exams were almost anti-climactic after the Hufflepuffs' adventures, but nonetheless Harry and his friends studied and worked hard to make sure they'd do well. Harry was well pleased with his results- he'd scored very high marks in all of his classes save potions. Even in potions he'd managed to scrape an Acceptable, which for any other professor Harry was quite sure would have been an E or even an O.

HP – HP – HP

It wasn't until the last day of term, shortly before the leaving feast, that Professor Sprout called him to her office.

"Harry," she said by way of greeting, motioning for him to have a seat. Harry noticed that, as had been the case ever since the incident with Quirrell, she seemed distinctly uncomfortable around him.

"Harry," she said again, "thank you for coming so promptly." Harry nodded his acknowledgement. "I... owe you an apology, Harry."

Harry tried to interrupt, but she kept speaking. "I let you down, Harry. It was very kind of you to forgive me for it, but I still did not protect you as I should have."

"It's really not your fault, Professor, he got Susan too. There's nothing you could have done."

She stared at him for a moment, taken aback, before frowning. "No, Harry, not that, though you were quite kind to forgive then, too. No, I'm referring to you and Hannah being sent to the Forbidden Forest."

Harry scowled, and Sprout nodded, seeing that he had caught on. "I want you to know that if you are ever given an inappropriate detention again, I want you to come straight to me and I will deal with it. I will not allow you, or any of my students, to be handled in such a manner again."

Harry was taken aback by the sudden fierceness in his head of house, yet felt a strange warmth from it as well. It was strange, this feeling that an adult was willing to protect him.

"I'm sure you- along with the rest of Hogwarts- have been curious about the house points?" Harry nodded, and she continued. "Professor Dumbledore awarded them to you and your friends, for your actions on... that day. He wanted to present them at the leaving feast, but I convinced him that stripping Slytherin of their ill-gotten victory at the last moment, while satisfying, was probably not the best idea."

Harry smiled, picturing the look on Malfoy and Snape's faces when they saw their win taken away at the last minute.

"I've also submitted all of your names for awards, for special services to the school. I'll be completely honest with you, Harry- I'm not sure they'll go through. I don't think the Headmaster wants it known that You-Know-Who was in the school."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. "He's not going to be very happy then. Susan's planning on telling her aunt all about what happened over the summer. The only reason she hasn't already is because she was worried her aunt would convince her mum to pull her out of school." Harry wouldn't have said anything at all, except that Susan had made no secret of the fact that she'd planned to have a long talk about the school year with her aunt, and wasn't worried about anyone finding out. He knew that Megan, Hannah, and Ernie had similar plans, but none of them wanted word getting out until they'd spoken with their families.

Sprout just smiled at him. "Yes, well, I think we'll just keep that to ourselves, then, won't we?"

HP – HP – HP

The leaving feast was perfectly normal, which suited Harry perfectly. Snape was, of course, very unhappy when Dumbledore presented Hufflepuff with the House Cup- breaking Slytherin's several year winning streak in the process- but overall, it was just a nice, quiet, troll-and-monster free meal with his friends.

And in the end, despite all the adventures, despite the knowledge that he would soon be back at the Dursleys, and despite the fact that Voldemort was still out there, trying to regain a body so he could finish what he'd started on that Halloween ten years prior, Harry was content.

A/N – This is the end of Correspondence Uninterrupted - Year One. There will of course be a sequel, and another, until such time as the story is complete, which on the advice of ladysavay, will continue in the very next chapter. I want to thank everyone who's been reading so far, and especially thank those who have reviewed. If you have not already, I will ask this one time that you take a moment to do so now. This was my first major writing project, and it is only through practice and criticism both that I will improve. For that, I need your help, to tell me what you liked, what you hated; to tell me what my strengths as a writer seem to be and what you think I need to improve on.

I want to give special thanks to RRW, Luis4200, Slytherin66, JKArcanus, malko050987, and jbfritz, who were with me since very early on in the story and kindly submitted several reviews as they read. It was very nice seeing familiar names popping up again and again as I read through reviews, and your continued support gave me encouragement as I wrote. So, thank you!

Second A/N - nonjon pointed out that I had forgotten to put mention of the Philosopher's Stone's fate in this chapter, as in the prior chapter it was in Harry's sock. It was, apparently, in a previous edit but didn't make it into the version of the chapter I published, so I added a bit in here to acknowledge the Stone's current whereabouts. Thanks nonjon!