Greyson wrapped himself in his bathrobe and sat on one of the benches. "Thank you," he said quietly to Draco.

"What happened?" Draco asked, deflecting the thanks. Greyson didn't answer immediately as everything replayed for probably the thousandth time. "What were you doing on the third floor? What happened to Harry?"

Greyson licked his lips. "We were talking and I realized it was convenient that Hagrid managed to get a dragon," Greyson started. His mouth felt dry. He swallowed before he continued. "And after some talking, I figured out that whoever was after the stone was the one that gave Hagrid Norbert."

"Professor Quirrell?" Draco asked.

Greyson nodded. "Remember the troll on Halloween?"

"Yeah?"

"He sent the troll to distract everyone so he could try and get the stone, but the cerberus and Snape stopped him," Greyson explained. "Sometime after Christmas, we pieced together that Quirrell was after the Sorcerer's Stone. It could make whoever drinks from it immortal. It could have brought back Voldemort." Draco cringed at the name. "Sorry."

"How did you know Quirrell was going to be there that night?" He asked, frowning as he tried to piece it all together.

"We went to Professor McGonagall to find Dumbledore, and she told us he had left for the ministry. So, we told her about the stone and Voldemort, but she didn't believe us. That's when I knew we had to get the stone ourselves," Greyson explained.

"So that's why you left our room," Draco nodded.

"Yeah, we met by Fluffy, Rascal, and Coal's door," he told him. "They were asleep. Quirrell had enchanted some music. But it stopped before we could enter the room and... and I pushed them down. If I hadn't... Harry might not be..." The tightness came back. It settled on his chest.

"But he's fine," Draco said, placing a tentative hand on Greyson's back. "And you've gotten better." Greyson nodded, but he didn't feel like he was better.

"I got stuck in the second room," he said quietly. "I couldn't go and help them... I can't ride a broom all that well and the second room... I... I had to get a flying key... I wouldn't have been able to get out of there... The first time I went through, I had Fred and George."

"First time?" Draco asked.

"Christmas break," Greyson explained. "I showed them Fluffy, Rascal, and Coal, and they realized the cerberus was guarding a trap door so we explored. George got the key the first time. We were stopped by McGonagall's challenge of life sized wizard chess."

"Is that why Weasley started that chess club?" Draco asked.

"Yeah..." Greyson admitted. "He was best out of the four of us, so I had him start one and go against whoever." Draco nodded, mulling over what Greyson told him.

"But how did Harry get out?" Draco asked after a moment.

"Hermione was dragging Ron out," Greyson said. "He had sacrificed himself so they could win the chess match. I helped her get Ron out and then I ran back for Harry since the door to get out of the key room was open. With the chess set demolished and the troll knocked out, all that was left was Snape's potion riddles. But the one to get to Harry was all gone. Him and Quirrell had drank all of it and... I couldn't. But the fires were extinguished and I was able to get in."

He took a deep breath and clench his fists. Draco's hand was on his shoulder again. A comforting weight. "Quirrell was a pile of ash and Harry was passed out, lying there... I don't know how Harry defeated him... But I'm glad he did. I'm proud of him." They were quiet for a few minutes.

"I was terrified..." Greyson admitted, the tightness loosening. "I kept telling myself that Harry had Ron and Hermione and they would help keep him safe. But I was terrified... because I wasn't there and I knew Quirrell was somewhere down there. And he was going to face him. But... I couldn't help... I wouldn't be able to keep him safe... And I shoved him into the room to face Quirrell and left them to go on without me. If I hadn't... maybe... maybe he wouldn't have been hurt... or hurt as much..."

Draco was quiet a moment before speaking. "Well... what would have happened if you didn't?"

Greyson frowned. "What?"

"If you didn't push Harry, what would have happened? Or if you didn't have them stop Quirrell?" Draco asked.

"Voldemort would be back," Greyson said, giving Draco a look. How was that not obvious?

"Exactly," Draco nodded and realization hit Greyson. "You did what was needed and you trusted that Harry and the others would get the job done. Yeah, you've been really mopey and have been ignoring everyone like you do. But, Harry is alright now." The tension and stress worked its way free as Greyson realized Draco was right. Harry was alright. The guilt was still lingering, but it wasn't so... strong like it had been. Looming over him like a heavy cloud.

The urge to squeeze Draco came over him, but he held back. "I should go and check on Harry..." Greyson mumbled. Draco stood.

"After you get dressed and after you eat," Draco told him firmly. "I think you've hardly eaten two bites from the way Granger had been fretting." Greyson just looked at the ground, not wanting to admit that he was most likely right.

Leaving the Great Hall after eating, Greyson felt better than he had for days. Draco had left him to return to the Slytherin common rooms while Greyson went to go see if Harry was awake yet.

He was ecstatic when he saw his brother sitting up. "Harry!" he cried, running to his brother, crushing him in as tight of a hug as he could manage.

Harry was laughing. "Greyson! Let go," he said. Greyson did and sat in his chair. "I was worried when I didn't see you sitting there."

"Draco had dragged me away," Greyson admitted. "But I was here the rest of the time... I couldn't leave you... not after..." He shook his head.

"Not after what?" Harry asked.

"After seeing you on the ground, limp and lifeless," Greyson said.

"Greyson, you couldn't have saved me," Harry reassured him. "When I got to the room... Professor Quirrell, he was expecting me... and he had... on the back of his head, under his turban, was... was Voldemort."

"What?" Greyson asked, his eyes stretched wide.

Harry nodded. "More of Voldemort's face was on the back of his head. And Quirrell, he was like he was in class. He was... different."

"How did you turn him to ash?" Greyson asked.

"I don't really know," Harry admitted. "Dumbledore said it had to do with the night Mom and Dad died. Mom's love was still keeping me safe after all this time. But when he touched me, it burned him. When I realized that, I just ran and grabbed his face. But... I killed him. I killed him, Greyson." Worry and guilt shadowed his brother's face.

"I'm glad it was him," Greyson said. "He probably would have killed you if you hadn't, Harry."

"I suppose you're right," he reluctantly agreed.

"Of course I'm right," Greyson said, crossing his arms. "I'm your big brother. Big brothers are always right."

Harry reached out and shoved Greyson. "Don't go getting a big head now," Harry teased.

"Well, I was right that it was Quirrell and not Snape, and I was right that Quirrell was going to bring back Voldemort," Greyson smiled.

"Fine," Harry admitted, flopping back onto his pillows. "You were. If it wasn't for you, we probably wouldn't have been able to stop him. We wouldn't have even figured out his plan."

"What about us?" Ron's voice called out, as he walked to the bed. He sat down on the foot of Harry's bed, starting to dig through Harry's gifts. Hermione followed behind, choosing to stand at the foot of Harry's bed

"We did good," Greyson nodded.

"You look better," Hermione said, looking over the both of them.

"I feel better," Harry smiled. Greyson stood up and gave Harry a hug.

"I'm going to make sure I'm all packed," he told his brother. "I'll see you later."

"See you," Harry said before turning his attention to Ron and Hermione.