Author's Note: It's funny what you stumble across even in the first book.

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that — what was it? — 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.' "

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you two?" said Harry.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round — that took a while — and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall — he already knew — he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your fathers cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded, "if he did — I mean to say — that's terrible — you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…"

"If that's the case, then he has gone mad!" Hermione snarled, wild-eyed; she looked like some ancient rendering of an angry spirit, and Harry took a step back. "Harry - don't you have any idea of what Dark wizards have done to children? What they can do without ever laying hands on them? It could have been so much worse - Dumbledore can believe 'death is the next great adventure' all he likes, but, as Headmaster, he's got no right to make that decision for a child!"

Harry looked to Ron, knowing his male friend would be much more understanding, but instead Ron had only gone an unpleasant grayish color. "She's right, mate," he said, shaking his head. "My parents don't talk about it in front of us kids, but the things I've overheard - the things You-Know-Who's men did in the war-" He pressed his lips tightly together, looking ill. "And I reckon their master's even worse," he said when he could speak again. "If he hadn't lost his head and told Quirrel to grab you, rather than having him use some Dark magic on you-"

"Look," Harry said, angry that they were trying to make something rotten out of his grand moment - where was all this concern for his safety for the past ten years of his life? "Maybe he thought of what happened the last time he tried powerful Dark magic on me? When-"

"But your mum's love doesn't protect you against every sort of Dark magic, does it?" Ron said hesitantly. "I mean, what Snape did at that Quidditch game-"

"Well, actually, that was Quirrell," Harry added, almost against his will. "Turns out Snape was actually doing the counter-curse - yeah, I know, I was as surprised as you were. Apparently my dad saved his life, and he needed to pay me back... Turns out that when Hermione got him, she got Quirrell too."

"So am I part of your mother's protection? Or perhaps it's Snape," Hermione said sarcastically, crossing her arms. "Because that certainly shows Quirrell could get away with using Dark magic on you without touching you, wouldn't you say? And Dumbledore had no way of knowing he'd choose to lay hands on you rather than using any other method!" The sarcasm dropped out of her voice, and only desperate concern was left. "Harry, there's something wrong here. Do you really think it's possible that he set you up?"

"Not if you're going to make a big deal about it," Harry said angrily, crossing his arms in turn. "I don't see the problem. I made it out alive, Voldemort didn't get the Stone, all's well. What more d'you want?"

Hermione sputtered, but Ron stepped forward. "Look," he said, holding up his hands. "Yeah, let's just say that if this is only the one time, it's all right -"

"No it is NOT, Ronald -"

"But," Ron emphasized, "if anything like this starts to happen again, we've got a problem. All right?" Hermione pursed her lips, and Harry himself was feeling rather foul, if for the opposite reason.

"Fine," Harry bit out. "But I don't reckon Voldemort's going to find a new servant on a yearly basis to harass me, do you?"

"I don't know," Hermione muttered in a voice that was not quiet or under her breath at all, "if the Headmaster has anything to say about it, great adventures and all-"

"Anything like this," Ron said, pretending not to hear her. "All right?"

Harry rolled his eyes in disgust, but nodded. Honestly, get a bit banged up and everyone treats you like a baby. He'd gotten much worse from Dudley and his lot. Oh, it was worse at the time, and he could still hear Quirrell's screams and feel the skin boiling beneath his hands when he got close to drifting off, but at least the pain had been gone when he woke up. He couldn't say that about the beatings he'd gotten from his cousin. "All right," he said mulishly.

"And after you get out of here," Hermione said firmly, "I think there are some books you need to read, regarding the last war in particular - I understand not believing me, but you can't deny what's set down in books - some of the most horrible passages are verbatim eyewitness accounts - I really do mean that, Harry, don't think you can just agree now and hope I forget about that!"

Harry, who had been murmuring noncommittal agreements while hoping for exactly that, tried to keep a guilty look off his face as he nodded. From her frustrated expression, he hadn't quite succeeded.

All told, it came as somewhat of a relief when Madame Pomfrey burst in, exclaiming they had gone far over the time she'd allotted, and hustled them out.

Author's Note: May have overdone the shrillness a bit with Hermione, but her social skills are rather lacking in Book 1, she's just heard serious speculation that the Headmaster set her best friend up for an encounter with the Darkest wizard in a century, and said friend seems to regard that as the Headmaster doing him a favor. By the initial children's-book logic, it makes a certain kind of sense. After the books swerve toward grim, gritty, anyone-can-die territory, it's a horror story.

For an example of what Quirrell might easily have done, note that Voldemort never fails to land a Cruciatus Curse on Harry until he starts meddling with the Elder Wand and all the issues its ownership brings. Much good all the physical protection in the world would do Harry if he wound up a drooling vegetable before his twelfth birthday.