July, 1992

Harry woke up a couple of days later in the Hospital Wing, being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore must have known he was about to wake up, for he was sitting smiling on a chair next to Harry's bed. Harry blinked at him, momentarily confused as he looked around.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore. Madam Pomfrey helped Harry sit up, cast a quick spell and peered at the resulting coloured lights approvingly, then left them alone to chat.

Harry stared at Dumbledore with confusion as he was fussed over, then remembered what had been going on. He looked away from Dumbledore's eyes and instead looked wildly around the room.

"Sir! The stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the stone! Sir, quick-"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times as you've been unconscious a couple of days now," said Dumbledore.

"Did Quirrell get away with it? Is Neville alright?" Harry looked down and crumpled the white linen bedsheets in his hands, looking worried. Did Dumbledore really have the rare talent of Legilimency?

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry looked around. There was a table piled high with sweets and flowers next to his bed, and some cards with gilt scalloped edging.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons with Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows." The headmaster looked over his gifts. "You have some sweets from your friends Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger I see, and more from Mr. Longbottom. Ah, some flowers from Mr. Percival Weasley, and some more flowers from… Miss Pansy Parkinson and friends?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"She's my cousin, sir. Well, separated by a few generations, of course. And a friend."

"Slytherins are not always the most loyal of friends," warned Dumbledore. "I have learnt in my life, with the deepest regret, that one must be very selective in choosing who to trust and befriend, Harry. I do not want to see you led onto a dark path by an ill-chosen friendship. Your friends Ron and Hermione, and Neville too - now I am sure such friendships as those are valuable to foster."

Harry with wide and innocent eyes (he'd practised the look many times in the mirror) promised to always be careful, and that he really wasn't that close with Pansy, as she could be quite annoyingly bigoted at times.

Did the meddling old wizard seriously want to control every aspect of his life, right down to who his friends were? Dumbledore smiled approvingly, and as Harry looked away from his eyes again to select some sweets to eat, explained to a curious Harry what had happened with the stone.

Neville had seen Harry being stunned by Professor Quirrell in their dorm, and fearing trouble, had gathered Ron and Hermione (with help fetching her from an older female student they found up late in the common room). Hermione had insisted on going to Professor McGonagall and explaining the situation to gain her advice and help. Ron on the other hand disagreed, and was adamant in his view that Harry might need immediate aid. He split from Hermione and took Neville with him to the third floor corridor.

"It took some time for your friend Miss Granger to convince Professor McGonagall to investigate. She knew, of course, that Professor Snape was no threat to the stone – he is no thief and a trusted member of staff. However, once she heard that Professor Quirrell had stunned you and abducted you from your dorm, she leapt into action. Miss Granger was left in her room while your professor sent a message to me and went to the third floor corridor. She found you and Neville stunned, and the stone and Professor Quirrell gone, sadly."

"What happened with Ron and Neville? I saw Neville for a moment, he came through the door that was on fire, and Professor Quirrell knocked him out."

"Why those two intrepid young men passed through a number of challenges that were set to stall or stop intruders. Mr. Longbottom got them past the Devil's Snare, Mr. Weasley displayed some excellent flying skills and then played a rather fine game of chess though did suffer a small injury in the process, and Mr. Longbottom eventually deciphered a riddle with some potions. He was quite justifiably proud of that, and it let him pass through the flames safely to reach you."

"And the stone?"

Dumbledore looked grave. "Alas, lost. Professor Quirrell has absconded with it." He talked about Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, and how death was just another grand adventure, and they would make peace with their fates. "I fear most what Professor Quirrell may do with the stone now it is in his possession. I believe it is possible that he may seek to take it to his master, Voldemort."

"What?! But he's dead, isn't he? He's dead. Professor McGonagall promised he was gone for good. And I thought Snape used to be his servant. Perhaps Professor Quirrell wanted it for another reason…?" he asked leadingly.

"Professor Snape, Harry. He's a most loyal and trustworthy fellow, and has watched over both you and the stone most carefully this year. And some people, myself among them, believe that the threat of Voldemort is not completely gone. His servants may seek to restore him, and there is some suggestion that his spirit lingers in this world yet."

Harry looked away, scepticism obvious on his face. "Professor Snape hates me, and he hated my father. And I heard he was a Death Eater."

"His past is done with, and not truly as black as you've heard. He is no follower of Voldemort – he has my full trust. It is true that your father and he did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy, perhaps. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive – your father saved his life."

Harry nodded. Snape would surely hate owing someone he was feuding with a life debt. "How did that happen, Sir?"

"He saved him from being savaged by a werewolf, my boy. I believe Professor Snape struggles with being in your father's debt - I believe it's why he has worked so hard to protect and watch over you this year."

"Of course, Sir," said a politely sceptical Harry. That kind of friend he could do without.

"I thought perhaps… that Professor Quirrell was rather unwell. He looked like he was really sick? And like casting magic was harder for him than it should be?" Harry said leadingly, tired of Dumbledore dancing around the truth, and wanting to hear some outside confirmation of what Quirrell had accused him of. Without giving too much away.

"Hmmm… I think perhaps he was," said Dumbledore gravely and thoughtfully. "I am sorry to say that there have been some deaths of unicorns in their forest. I believe that he might have been forced to pay a terrible price for his… association with Voldemort. Either he or his master needed that blood, most desperately. It keeps you alive, but at a terrible cost."

"Unicorn blood is like a super medicine?" Harry asked, startled.

"Only for the most desperate of individuals who has nothing to lose. The price is a dreadful one. For from the moment you slay such a pure creature, or the moment the blood touches your lips, you will live a cursed life."

Dumbledore asked him a couple of questions about what happened with Quirrell, and seemed satisfied with his answers. And Harry was satisfied with Dumbledore's confirmation of Quirrrell's story.

Harry shifted the conversation away after a while. "May I ask, how did I manage to get the stone out of the mirror? Professor Quirrell made me look in the mirror, and the next moment I had the stone in my pocket."

A proud Dumbledore explained about how only one who wanted to find the stone, but not use it, could retrieve it from the mirror. And then helped himself to some of Harry's sweets. Harry was quietly pleased that the man happened across an earwax flavoured jellybean. That would teach him to steal his sweets – the man was as rude as Dudley. And fancy Dumbledore blaming Voldemort for poor Professor Quirrell's crippling terminal illness. What a horrible liar – the Dark Lord was dead, for Merlin's sake! Everyone said so, and all the books agreed. Crazy old wizard. Harry was proud not to be like Dumbledore. Harry would save someone who needed help, no matter what.

Harry was kept in the Hospital Wing for another day "just in case" - even though he felt perfectly well he wasn't allowed to leave. His friends Neville and Hermione stopped by first, with Ron tagging along as usual. Harry was pretty impressed with Ron's retelling of how he'd brought Neville to try and save him and Quirrell from Snape.

"Not that it was Snape in the end! What a shock it turned out that Quirrell was working for You-Know-Who all along!" said Ron.

"So the headmaster says. I'm not sure there's much evidence of that. The man's dead, after all."

"Quirrell's dead?" asked Neville.

"No, the Dark Lord!"

"He might be hoping to bring You-Know-Who back from the dead with the stone, you know. Didn't I tell you that Snape wasn't going to steal anything? Professor McGonagall told me he's actually very trustworthy. But Quirrell is definitely more Dark than we suspected – he stole the stone, and put you in the Hospital Wing!" objected Hermione. "I can't believe he fooled us all! I was so worried about you!"

"Perhaps it was true that Snape hadn't been after the stone at all – Professor Quirrell may well have been lying about that. Professor Quirrell gave me quite the duel," conceded Harry, trying to let the topic drop. He didn't understand why they trusted the Headmaster so blindly. He was actually telling the truth about how he thought how Snape maybe hadn't been after the stone – adults lied, and obviously Professor Quirrell was no exception to that rule either. Still, he had good cause. What reason Dumbledore had to lie so ridiculously to him was beyond him, though.

"Professor McGonagall told me later that she wasn't happy when she reached you Harry," said Hermione. "I mean, obviously because you were unconscious and hurt, and Quirrell got away. But she complained once while she was visiting you, and I was here – she said that the defences were supposed to be better. Apparently her chessmen weren't working at all how she expected."

"I would venture that Professor Quirrell did something to them when he came through," suggested Neville.

"I suppose so. I really wish we hadn't helped him," sighed Hermione. "But how were we to know?"

"Me too," said Neville, looking quite despondent. "All that work! And it was just to help a thief, not the ones trying to stop the thief. I thought maybe it'd be something to tell Gran about - if we caught Snape. But now if I told her what I have done she'd be so ashamed. If only we'd caught Quirrell – we would have been heroes, Harry. I guess I'm just not that good at magic. He knocked me out right away. And who knows what he's off doing with that stone now."

"You weren't to know. None of us knew," consoled Harry. "And I got knocked out as well, remember? And there's no reason to assume Quirrell is going to try and resurrect the Dark Lord. He probably just wanted it for reasons of his own," Harry said, giving a little of the truth but wary of the portraits around the hospital wing who might be listening in. "Professor Dumbledore agreed that he was quite sick."

"Thanks Harry," said Neville, still not looking very cheerful despite Harry's obvious attempt to bolster his spirits.

"Dumbledore told us Professor Quirrell was certainly working for Voldemort-"

Ron flinched. "Do you have to say his name?"

"-so I think there's not much doubt there," concluded Hermione. "And sorry, I forgot, Ron. I still think it's an odd tradition wizards have, but I'm trying," she added, with a glance at Harry. Harry gave her a nod of acknowledgement, and she smiled at him in return.

Harry encouraged Neville to tell him all about the challenges the teachers had set to guard the stone (Neville was sort of proud the Devil's Snare had been on his list), and thanked them all for their help, misdirected though it turned out to be in the end. Ron was now sure they'd been wrong about Snape all along (though he still thought Snape was a git), and Hermione had never been completely convinced in the first place. Neville seemed lost in self-recriminations at the moment, but was comforted that he wasn't the only one who was fooled – even the teachers had been. Harry wasn't planning to tell them the truth about Quirrell unless he thought they wouldn't blab, and right now he thought they all might. It wasn't worth the risk. He supposed his tendency to choose personal safety over friendship was what made the Sorting Hat insist he was no Hufflepuff.

Ron urged Harry to show up for the end-of-year feast the next day, and sadly reflected that they'd lost the house cup. "The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course – without you playing Quidditch our team just got steamrollered which didn't help," Ron said, a little crankily. "Anyway, the food will be good so you have to get out of here in time."

After a good night's sleep, Madam Pomfrey cleared him to join his friends that evening. But first he had another visitor – Professor McGonagall stopped by with her apologies for not acting faster to help save him from Professor Quirrell. And she had a gift for him – a handsome leather-bound photo album, full of wizard photographs of his parents.

"The photos have been contributed by some of your parents' old school friends. We hope you like it."

"I love it," said Harry, gazing at the pictures. "I only had one photo of my mum - this, this is amazing. Thank you, Professor."

At the feast that night, Harry tried to ignore the stares and whispers as he walked in. People were even standing up to look at him! It was horrible.

The Great Hall was decorated in green and silver everywhere to celebrate Slytherin winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. But Dumbledore had some last minute points to allocate. Ron got fifty points for his excellent game of chess, and roars of approval from the Gryffindors (especially his brothers). Neville was given fifty points for cool logic in the face of danger, and looked fit to burst with pride. Harry himself got sixty points, "for pure nerve and outstanding courage". The table broke into excited cheers as they realised they were tied, and needed only one more point to beat Slytherin. Dumbledore held up his hand for silence.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much courage and wisdom to share your troubles with a teacher and admit you need help. I therefore award ten points to Miss Hermione Granger."

The resultant cheering and celebration was deafening, and Hermione was swamped under a pile of people hugging her.

Harry clapped and cheered with the rest of the Gryffindors as the banners changed. But as he glanced over at the scowling Slytherins, he knew exactly what the headmaster was up to. And by Merlin, he was not going to let it work.

Harry managed to catch Pansy the next day, by sending a note with an older Slytherin who was heading back to the Slytherin dorms. The boy opened the note and read it as he walked. But that didn't matter – it was just asking her to meet him at the lake.

She came to meet him as requested, with Daphne in tow. "So, the Gryffindor champion, man of the hour. You must be proud," Pansy smiled tightly but her voice was cheerful. "You beat Slytherin."

Harry knew that look - he'd worn a false smile a time or two himself. "Now Pansy, I hope you're not holding that Merlin-wannabe's actions against me. He doesn't want us to be friends, you know. Warned me against you specifically, and the disloyalty of non-Gryffindors in general."

Pansy's smile faded and she looked thoughtful. "Everyone in Slytherin hates you right now, you know."

"Don't you think it was rather obvious? If he'd just wanted to reward me or the others for our actions, he could've done so days before. Leaving it 'til the feast guaranteed there was no way for Slytherin, or any other house, to earn more points."

"Sneaky," admired Daphne. "But rather lacking in subtlety, now you mention it. Don't worry Harry, we'll spread the word." Pansy nodded.

Exam results arrived a couple of days later and were much as expected, with Hermione at the top of almost all their classes (at least among the Gryffindors). Neville took the top spot for Herbology, and only just managed to scrape an A in Potions (which he was extremely happy with). Ron passed with mostly good marks, somewhat to Harry's surprise.

When the Slytherins spotted him in the library sitting with Hermione and Neville they gave him an enquiring look. He shook his head warningly (he didn't them to scare off Hermione), and the girls huddled together to chat. Then they split up – Pansy and Tracey headed off elsewhere, while Daphne and Millicent stopped by to say hello.

"Hello, Harry, Neville, Hermione. How did you go on your exams, Harry?" Millicent asked politely.

"Not bad. I got one Outstanding, and Exceeds Expectations for Herbology and Charms," he said casually. Flitwick was an observant chap, and he'd decided in the end an EE would draw less attention. "D for Potions of course."

"You know Harry you did really great getting an O in Defence. But I know you're smart and with the amount of effort you put in earlier during the year I'm certain if you'd just studied more for exams you would've done better in your other subjects," chided Hermione. "I have no idea how Neville got better than you for Potions. And I know you could have gotten better than an Acceptable in History of Magic if you'd just put more effort into revising for that – it's pure theory after all. You know I'd be happy to help you any time, you just have to ask."

Millicent narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Harry. "Really. I got an O for that."

Harry flinched, and knew he was caught, but she just smiled at him with a raised eyebrow, and didn't say anything else. He sighed, and nodded shortly at her. She nodded back. It looked like she'd either be interrogating him or calling in a favour… later.

"Pansy says to be sure to write over the holidays," relayed Daphne. Harry got Daphne and Pansy's addresses, and gave his for Daphne to share with whomever of his friends wanted it. Millicent said her father wouldn't want them corresponding without his approval.

"That's so oppressive. You're a free woman! Well, a free girl," said Hermione. "You can write to him if you want to, you know," she said encouragingly.

"It wouldn't be proper," explained Millicent politely. "I'd rather not."

"My parents won't mind," said Daphne, with a little giggle that Millicent joined in with. "But father will probably read over the letters, so don't write anything you shouldn't, Harry!"

"Well I'll write to you too if you like, Harry," offered Hermione. "The regular way, since I don't have an owl."

"That would be great!" said Harry happily. It was going to be a good summer.

Soon their bags were packed, wardrobes emptied, and notes given out warning them not to use magic over summer. Harry had no intention of doing magic over the break, but threw away his note to remove the evidence of the warning. He was going to politely inform the Dursleys of his personal consideration for their feelings in not using magic in their home – not like his mother turning teacups into toads, or whatever it was she used to do.

Harry had been trying to get a private moment to chat with Neville before they left Hogwarts for the summer, but what with one thing or another only managed to snatch a brief chance to give him his best tips on managing his Great Uncle Algie.

"When I was still having uh… trouble with the Dursleys, I put in an extra effort to find out what they expected of me, and what their hobbies and favourite foods were – that kind of thing. Name drop anyone your Uncle might be intimidated by too – like, 'Dumbledore gave me fifty points at the end of the year for my courage and logic.' Oh! And I think if you want to get your Uncle Algie to back off, as well as showing your Hogwarts results you should find out what chores he'd most like you to do a better job on."

Neville looked at him oddly. "He doesn't live with us, and the only chores I do are making my bed, and looking after my plants in the greenhouse."

Harry was surprised. "That's all?" Neville nodded. Harry changed mental gears quickly. Neville was horribly pampered like Dudley – it was a bit of a shock. You could be pampered and mistreated? "I suppose you have an allowance, then?"

"Yes."

"Then the next best thing to try I think would be to get your uncle a gift – something he likes. In thanks for your toad that you love so much, and for all his valuable advice and help over the years that's helped make you into the strong wizard you are today."

Neville looked a bit disgusted. "His valuable help?"

"You don't have to mean it. Just look like you mean it."

The others arrived at the Hogsmeade train station then, and he had to wrap up quickly with a muttered, "Good luck." The Gryffindor friends chattered all the way on the train to Kings Cross Station, and when they arrived Harry cringed to hear Ron's sister squealing and pointing him out to her mother excitedly. Harry ignored her, and thanked Mrs Weasley in person for the jumper she'd made him for Christmas.

Then he found the Dursleys on the other side of the barrier, who were looking very wary (almost terrified) of all the strangely dressed people who were wandering around.

"Thanks for picking me up," he said sincerely. It was brave of them to mingle with people they feared so much, with good reason. "Next time if you like I can meet you at a parking lot or something. I know there's lots of uh, them, around at the moment. Let's head home."

It was going to be a good summer, just being normal again for a while.

A/N: And that's the end of "A New Kind of Normal"! If you've been enjoying this series ("Perfectly Normal") and would like to read more, please stop by my profile page today to read the first chapter of the next fic in the series – "Parseltongue is Really Very Ordinary". Please click to "follow" that story (and/or favourite it while you're at it if you're a fan!) if you want to be alerted to updates. While the first chapter is going up right away so you can follow it and not lose track of my series, I'm afraid more updates will NOT be starting for a couple more weeks, while I finish writing the fic and editing it as carefully as I can for errors and making other improvements. Don't worry, there's eightteen long chapters already written so more story WILL come, the fic just needs finishing and polishing.

Thanks to Mimosa for Hermione's "told you so!" moment in this chapter, and Mergirl007's suggestion about Neville's reaction to the reveal of Quirrell's perfidy and his part in it. :)

And thank you to ALL my wonderful reviewers who've said encouraging and complimentary things about my story, made constructive suggestions for improvements, and inspired me to keep on writing. It really makes me happy to hear that people are enjoying it, and your suggestions also help improve my fics, here and there! If you've never left a review before, as this is the last chapter now would be a great time. :)