Hedwig gives a pleased screech as Harry feeds her a treat. He smiles slightly at her happiness, but is too caught up in his own worries at the moment to enjoy it. He still is terrified that someone is going to find out what he did. At any moment Dumbledore is going to apparate in here and yell at him for stealing the Philosopher's stone. He would be in all sorts of trouble then.

One of the only things that could alleviate his stress was thinking about how his "family" had reacted when he'd laid down the rules for everything moving forward. Yes his family knew that Harry wasn't supposed to do magic outside of school, but they also knew that Harry would gladly accept expulsion if they tried to abuse him again. Their reactions as he'd revealed to them how close they'd come to disaster in the way that they'd raised him was also humorous. The only saving grace that kept Harry from turning into an Obscurial was the fact that he'd had no idea he was magical, this he never tried to repress his magic.

Harry flops onto his bed and gives a heavy sigh. He glances at the last of wizarding literature that he'd bought the previous year. Just two small novellas left to read. In addition to how the books helped him understand the nonsense of wizarding culture, he'd grown to enjoy reading books. Considering his options here at Privet Drive, reading will probably be his best source of entertainment.

I should try to arrange a trip to Diagon alley, get some sickles and raid Flourish's comic book section. Hm, I wonder if I can get some muggle money too and get some- "OH MY G-OW!"

"Hello there." The man who appeared in the room seemed quite amused by Harry's panicked reaction, causing him to jump two feet off the bed and hit the ground. He casually stoked his beard as he watched Harry grunt in pain as he fumbled for his wand and finally pulled it out, pointing the stick at the intruder and blanking on what spell to use.

"I see how you defeated that Quirrell fellow. Clearly he died of embarrassment."

Confusion and embarrassment fought for supremacy within Harry as he blushed for a moment. "Wh-who're you?!"

"I thought Dumbledore said you were bright. Who do you think would come here? The Minister?"

"More like Voldemort or his servants..."

The man rolls his eyes and sighs, "Not with the Blood Ward around this house. Although, I doubt Dumbledore would tell you about it."

"I know about the wards..." Harry says as he looks the man over. Standing at the foot of the bed is a tall, thin man, perfectly trimmed white hair and beard, brilliantly piercing silver eyes. His robes are of obviously high quality, crimson with gold and silver highlights. Harry has a guess as to who this is but that can't be right... "Are you Nicolas Flamel?"

"The one and only, boy."

"You don't look like your picture."

"Of course not. I don't want people bothering me and my wife when I go out, so I use glamour."

"Do you use glamour for when you go out or for your public image?"

"Why not both?" Flamel says with a grin. "Now onto why I came here; why did you steal my stone?"

What catches Harry most off guard is the lack of accusation. The look on Flamel's face and the tone he uses, you would almost think he was asking why Harry had chosen to wear a red shirt instead of black, or why he'd ordered a chicken sandwich instead of fish and chips. There was nothing in his voice to indicate distress or betrayal or concern for why an 11 year old boy had stolen a powerful magical artifact desired by virtually everyone in the word.

"I...um...I'll give it back...?"

"I've got plenty of the damn things." Flamel said with a shake of his head, "I just want to know why you did it."

At this point Harry's brain crashed into a brick wall as he tried to understand the ramifications of what Flamel just said. "You what!?"

That elicited a joyous laugh from the man, seeming to greatly enjoy Harry's response.

"You've no idea how much I've longed to drop that on someone and see their face! The coveted and priceless philosopher's stone! And I've got hundreds of them! Bwahahaha!"

"You...you selfish jerk!"

"Hm, what's that?" Flamel wiped a tear out of his eye as he looked down on the boy, condescension clear in his attitude. "Please, do tell!"

"You've got the means to provide life and money to everyone in the world! With your stones, especially if you can make as many as you want, no one should ever have to suffer!"

"Is that so boy? You think the world is that simple?"

Harry's anger flutters out, sensing that he's just stumbled into a trap and is one move away from getting caught. He looks at Flamel with a question in his eyes.

"Dumbledore thinks you're pretty clever. Let's see if you can figure out why." And with that Flamel moves to lean against Harry's cabinet, arms crossed and looking at the boy with a patient look.

Harry is quiet for a moment as he tries to run through his thoughts about why it wouldn't be so simple. He runs through a couple ideas before realizing he doesn't know the full formula for the Elixir of Life, having only barely tapped into the stone when he'd got it. He takes it out as quickly as he can and focuses on it, calling on it to give him the knowledge. He's distantly aware of the approving look on Flamel. The formula floods Harry's mind and he can fee the stone wanting to make his body do the work. If he'd had the supplies handy he could feel that the stone would make him start the work. Since he doesn't, the stone seems to instead supply his mind with the list of ingredients. Harry almost misses it but catches that one of the ingredients is simply termed "live specimen". As realization dawns on him he forces the stone to run through the process, mouth dropping open in horror as it reveals that the elixir of life is created by draining the life energy out of something else. Equivalent Exchange, the fundamental rule of Alchemy; to extend ones life the life has to come from something else.

"You-"

"I use livestock. Pigs and cows from my farm. But it's not the most efficient source of life energy. Can you imagine what others might do, out of some misguided desire for efficiency?"

Harry gulps.

"This is a broken world. Capitalism, fascism, communism, democracy, it's all garbage that lets the powerful use the weak for their own ends. Were my stones, or even just the formula itself common knowledge, the powerful would exploit the weak to extend their lives. People wouldn't hesitate to steal children to take their life energy for themselves. Similarly with gold transmutation. If in the open, there would quickly be so much gold it would be worthless, defeating the point."

"Oh..."

"With the magic of the wizarding world and the science of the muggles, the standard of living could be raised for everyone to a very high level, but the stupidity, hate, and stubbornness of the world prevents that from happening. If the world ever grew mature enough that I could trust its people, I would give my stones away so that all could live as long as they desired. But as it is, nothing good could come from that."

"So you've been waiting for the world to grow up?"

"Indeed. I had been hopeful when the Renaissance and the Enlightenment had happened, making me think that mankind might progress into true civility and cooperation, but then, well...everyone started acting like imbeciles again. All the wars on the muggle side and string of dark lords and ladies on the magical side and it's clear that despite appearances we're no closer to a unified world than we were 500 years ago."

"I see."

"So, why did you take the stone?"

Harry is quiet for a long moment as he thinks. Flamel seems perfectly content to wait while Harry figures it out. Part of Harry figures that after 600 plus years, he's probably learned a thing or two about patience.

"I don't know."

"And why not?"

"Because everything sounds like an excuse in my head. I know I thought at one point that you were selfish and wasteful, but in stealing it I could never really be selfless and generous with it. If I keep it, I'll always have to hide it or get in trouble for what I did."

"Indeed."

"I don't think I'm afraid of dying, though I know I don't want to."

"Even after what you've been through, death should still be a distant concept to your young mind. You shouldn't really understand it nor fear it, yet."

"I... think I took it because of the knowledge it has? Like, I don't know what I want to do in the future yet, but having this will help me more than not having it."

"It will be...'a power that others know not'."

"Um, excuse me?"

"Ah, sorry, that probably sounded odd."

"Yeah..."

"I take out Dumbledore hasn't told you about the prophecy?"

Harry simply gave Flamel a dead stare.

"I'll take that as a no."

"You've got to be kidding me.." Harry groans and rubs his forehead.

"Kid, you're a child of destiny, it happens every now and then, you'd better get used to weird stuff every now and then."

"Destiny, like this prophecy? How does it go?"

Nicolas nods as he begins, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

"Well, that's... interesting."

"That prophecy is one of the reasons why I didn't rat you out to Dumbledore. Voldemort is still out there and you're destined to beat him. Or die to him. One or the other. But Dumbledore is hoping to prepare you to beat him. And I was wondering if the stone might be the power Voldemort doesn't know."

"That...doesn't sound right to me."

"Not to me either."

"But...you're going to let me keep the stone?"

"For now. Trust me, prophecies can be finicky things, there are all different sorts of ways that they can come true. It might be that the stone will simply lead to the actual power through some odd series of events. Or it's unrelated. Dumbledore thinks the power that you'll have is 'love'."

"Excuse me?"

"Love has a tangible effect in magic, all strong emotions do. Your mother's sacrifice, for example, invoked powerful protection magic."

"Alright, fair, but how is it something that 'the Dark Lord knows not'? He knows about love!"

"Yes, but he doesn't understand it. He's a damaged soul, and can't feel love properly."

"But that doesn't mean he doesn't know of it! I don't understand girls but I still know about them!"

Flamel burst into joyous laughter, slapping his thigh and weeping tears. "My dear boy! My lord! Oh that's good! Hah! Let me tell you, even after 600 years 'girls' are a mystery, every day my dear Perenelle still confuses and mystifies me! And I love her for it! Aaah!" Flamel takes a moment to calm himself and wipe his eyes, still chuckling. His good mood even affects Harry who can't help but smile.

"But yes, you are exactly right. I tried to explain that to Dumbledore myself when he came to me for advice, but I don't think I got the point across properly. But, again, it might be more along the lines that love will lead you to the power he knows not. Damn prophecies."

"How many prophecies have you dealt with over the years?"

"If you've dealt with one you've dealt with too many, and I've dealt with at least a dozen."

"Lovely."

"Yes. Well, I think you should learn Occlumency as soon as you can. I'm not sure how you pulled off whatever it was you did, but it might not fool Dumbledore for long, and if he checks your mind for whatever reason, he might learn the truth."

"I am an Occlumens, I studied it ear-RRRRSSHHHH!"

Harry clutched his head, unprepared for the mental attack Flamel subjected him to with no warning, and he freely looked through Harry's memories of the year, taking great interest in the Basilisk and how Harry stole the stone. With a gasp of relief, the pain ended and Harry found himself laying on his bed covered in sweat.

"I want to say you need to work harder; but for your age and time spent training, you are honestly ahead of the curve. Well done, but keep at it. You know full well that you need to have your defenses up at all times."

"R-right..."

"Do you know how the Trace works?"

"Um..." Harry tried his best to keep up, the non sequitur threw him off. "Sort of? It's a charm on Britain that detects if I do magic, right?"

"Actually no. It's a charm on you that detects if magic is cast in your vicinity."

"Okay?"

"In magical areas or homes, such as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, there is a lot of magic cast, as adults go about their business. In such areas, it is expected that the parents of children deal with enforcing the rule since the Ministry's Trace won't know the difference. If you intend to practice any of my alchemy this summer, you might wish to make arrangements to have a workshop rented out in Diagon Alley."

"But, no ones going to rent out a flat to a kid like me?"

"You'd be surprised what the right bribes to the right people will do. That goblin in your memories..."

"Griphook?"

"Yes, seek him out when you go to Gringotts and see if he'll lend you a hand. Offer to compensate him for his time. From what I saw you had earned a smidgen of his respect, and if you use that well...well, let's just say having a Gringotts goblin as a friend has many advantages."

"Alright, but getting to Diagon Alley might be troublesome. I'm not sure how willing my relatives will be to give me a lift to London."

"Hm," Flamel thinks for a moment. "It should be fine, keep an eye out for your mail in the next couple days."

"Okay."

"Till we meet again, Harry Potter."

And with that, Flamel disapparated out of Privet Drive. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. He was confused about a number of things, but glad that Flamel wasn't mad.

I guess I should work on my Occlumency while I wait for whatever he was talking about in the mail.

Author's note: here's the first proper chapter. As a little note, in my mind this version of Flamel looks like Revenge of the Sith Ewan McGregor but with white hair and a couple wrinkles. When he said, "Hello there." I explicitly was thinking of the meme.