Dumbledore awoke harshly, feeling the shock that went through the school's wards and instantly grabbed his wand from his nightdesk. Something had happened to the stone, he could tell that much from the wards themselves but at this point he couldn't tell what. It was still in the castle, that much he knew but a magical schockwave had just rolled over the school. The wards had absorbed the brunt of the impact and had done their job protecting the school but he had to go down there and check on the stone. It had to be safe for his plans to work.
Dumbledore wiped the troll blood of his wand with the end of his bright blue robes and waved his wand casually, the black flames ahead of him bending and contorting to his will. They fought him for a moment or two, their will to live dwarfing the old man's willpower temporarily, but eventually they conceded. The flames went out with a whoosh, throwing up ash and soot around the room that was instantly cleared away with a flick of Dumbledore's wand. The Headmaster or Hogwarts made a long sweeping motion with the Elder Wand and the wall exploded silently, bricks flying out away from him into the room ahead of him, each one smashing upon the cold hard floor and sending soot and dust flying about everywhere. He made one last sweeping motion with the wand and all the dust and soot and fragments of the newly exploded bricks disappeared, leaving behind a room with cracked glass on the floor and an empty mirror frame.
"Fuck," swore Dumbledore under his breath, marching into the room with his wand at his side. Muttering to himself again and again, he performed some long complicated movements with his wand, silently of course, and the shards that lay scattered across the floor floated up into the air and rearranged themselves into the mirror frame like they had not been broken before. Dumbledore looked at himself in the mirror for what must have been the 100th time in the last couple of weeks, but this time, unlike before when he had done so countless times, the figures did not appear. He remained alone, and he knew the Mirror of Erised was gone. It was but a simple mirror.
Turning away, he raised his wand once more and swept the room whilst whirling around, his surrounding glowing a deep blue then changing to a blood red and eventually returning to their previous colour. "Fuck," swore Dumbledore once more his grip on his wand tightening so hard that a normal wand would have splintered, but not the Elder wand. The stone was gone, taken, and someone had walked through all his defences with relative ease. It was out of the castle, otherwise he would have felt its presence through the wards that were erected for the school's protection and his own personal uses. Worse, it had been a student, or a group of students, that had bypassed everything. The magic that lingered in the room was too soft and too fragile to be that of an adult's, and there were several variations to it.
Dumbledore waved his wand and the mirror exploded into nothingness, and he was left standing with his wand in his hand. All his plans down the drain, thwarted by a group of school children. He could still make this work, he assured himself. After all, a fake stone would be all that he'd need to lure out Voldemort. He'd need to ask Quirrel for a new troll however, and Hagrid wasn't going to be happy knowing that Fluffy lay dead on the floor above him. The defenses needed to upped as well, but he could make this work. First things first, how the hell was he going to explain this to Nicholas Flamel?
"Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall walking into the common room, drawing the attention of everyone present. She very rarely went into there, instead choosing to let her lions enjoy their free time and when she did it it was always for a good reason. "I have been asked by Professor Dumbledore to take you to his office."
"Why Professor?" asked Thomas Potter standing up from his game of Exploding Snap. Unfortunately for him, it was at this moment that the pile decided to explode, and right into his face as well. "Damn it!" he swore slapping his eyebrows to put out the left one that had caught fire.
"Langauge Mr Potter," said McGonagall dryly, still waiting for him. "If you're done, are you going to follow me?" she asked with a withering glare.
"Come on in," said Dumbledore gently right as Thomas Potter was about to knock on the door, and the heavy door swung open dramatically to reveal the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a thin wiry old man that Thomas recognised from his set of chocolate frog cards that he had accumulated over several years.
"You're Nicholas Flamel!" said Thomas, his mouth hanging agape as he walked into the room.
"I am, boy, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would shut your mouth. You catch a blibbering humdinger if you keep it open any longer," Flamel snapped grumpily making Thomas blush and snap his mouth shut.
"Now now Nicholas," began Dumbledore jovially, "be a little nicer. The boy's just surprised, that's all," he said gesturing for Thomas to take a seat. Thomas sat upon a heavily decorated plush armchair in the office, his cheeks ablaze. "Now, Thomas, we just have a few questions to ask you." Thomas nodded, letting him continue. "Firstly, have you been near the third corridor?"
Thomas's heart stopped all of a sudden- how did they know? "No, sir," he managed to squeak out.
"Do you know what currently lies in the third corridor?" Dumbledore pushed on relentlessly.
"No, sir," Thomas squeaked again, his eyes drifting to Flamel who was staring intently at him. He averted his eyes quickly, lookong into his lap.
"Are you sure about that?" asked Dumbledore, eyes cold and hard.
"No sir," Thomas repeated.
Dumbledore took a long, hard look into Thomas's eyes, which had almost involuntarily come up to meet the Headmaster. "Very well," said Dumbledore eventually. "You may go," he said and the door swung open dramatically. As Thomas left, the door swung closed but he could hear the hard voice of Nicholas Flamel yelling at Dumbledore.
"You said he knew where the stone was, you lemon-drop sucking dingbat!"
"Are you sure about it?" asked Harry, looking Neville dead in the eyes.
"Of course I'm sure. You idiot of a brother was rambling on about it so loudly in the common room that the giant squid could hear it," snapped Neville having explained to Harry about the situation with the stone Neville was the boy who was known as squib in Hogwarts but one day near the lake he had met Harry and his friends and they had got together very well Harry used to teach Neville how to perform magic and Neville used to spy in Gryffindor for Harry.
"Then what are we going to do?" Harry asked everyone in the room, pacing frantically. "If Flamel finds out it was us, we could get arrested. I'm too handsome to go to Azkaban!" Harry whined.
"We could return the stone, but you know, not say it was from us," suggested Rigel.
"That's brilliant," Harry said, his cheerfullness returning. "If things go our way, we could even get him to agree to a favour or two." He jumped up from his crouching position on his bed and pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill. Dipping it in the pot of ink on his desk, he began to write. "Dear Nicholas Flamel..." be began aloud.
"Awww," cooed Perenelle Flamel in their manor on their extensive estate in France, letting the small, ruffled brown owl into their house. Generally the wards would have stopped the owl but this time they had detected something important in the package and had decided to let the owl through. "Nicholas dear!" she called out, taking the ltter from the owl which came with a small pouch. "There's a letter for you!"
"Coming Perenelle," replied the rough voice of Nicholas Flamel. The effects of not having the stone's elixer were already starting to show, and he had given all of their remaining stock to his wife and had taken none for himself. "How did this get through the wards?" he asked, and Perenelle simply shrugged. "Dear Lord Flamel," he began aloud.
"I write to you to let you know about the Philosopher's stone that was stolen by me and my friends. In a fit of childishness, I foolishly presumed you had no further need for the stone as you had given it to a man that employed such weak measures to protect it. Alas, it came to my attention that this was a mistake on our part and a slight misjudgement on yours, for the methods Albus Dumbledore used to protect the stone were easily bypassed by me and my friends, a group of 11 year olds. I write to you in apology, and offer you back the stone.
However, to make sure you will not reveal who we are, we have enclosed a magically binding contract. You and your wife should sign it, and as a show of trust we have enclosed a vial of the elixer with the letter. Sign the contract and send it back to us, and we will return the stone to you. If you do not sign it, we shall destroy the stone. Again, we bid you no harm but we wish to protect ourselves.
There will come a time in the future where we will call upon you for a favour, and you will answer, though the favour shall be fair. Finally, do not trust Albus Dumbledore. He is not all that he seems.
With good regards,
Your anonymous thieves and benefactors."
"Well?" asked Perenelle.
"I'm going to do as they say," admitted Nicholas. "They're a group of 11 year olds, incredibly bright and obviously wishing no harm. They could have kept the stone for themselves." He pulled out a quill and began to write.
Harry opened the letter with scrambling fingers, tearing it open as soon as the brown owl handed it off to him. He read through the letter several times as if he couldn't believe what he had just read, his friends watching him curiously and intently. "So?" Draco finally asked.
"He signed it," said Harry, smiling.
"I'll get the stone from my trunk upstairs," said Rigel and he walked out of the room.
"Daph, Tracey, help me get out the potions equipment again," said Harry excitedly.
"Why?" questioned Daphne.
"Before we give the stone back to Flamel, let's keep some elixer for ourselves. We have enough money, but the elixer of life could be very useful," Harry said with a grin. "I'll go get the unicorn hair and acromantula venom."
Dumbledore leaned back in plush armchair in his bedroom, fingers touching and in deep thought. How was he meant to get Thomas Potter's interest in the stone again? He knew Thomas suspected that the stone had been stolen, after all a little legilimency went a long way, but he still needed to keep his interest locked. Thomas needed to confront Voldemort at the end of the year, purely for Dumbledore to be sure of Thomas's allegiance and where his magical abilities stood but also to check he had his mother's protection with him.
A couple hints here and there that the stone was still in the third corridor, and perhaps a slight forgetfulness potion could work. He'd need to calculate the correct dose of course, but Severus would be willing. He wouldn't tell the potions master obviously and would just say it was a little project of his. Perhaps an overheard conversation could also help convince the young boy that someone still layed a threat to the stone.
The stone was long gone by now; Flamel had owled him saying that a mysterious benefactor had returned it and had cut off relations with him. No one else knew the stone was no longer at Hogwarts, with Dumbledore's own skill in alchemy sufficient enough to create a fake one. It would be good enough to fool Voldemort and most definitely fool Thomas.
Yes, yes, that could all work. All he had to do was make sure nothing else went wrong.
After a few months, exams were here. The rest of the school year passed without notable incident, unless of course you count the day when a prank from Fred and George misfired and turned the Gryffindors robes see thorugh for the whole day, both boys and girls. Needless to say, there were a lot of red faces, wolf whistles and a remarkable number of prank spells cast at the Weasley twins.
In the weeks leading up to the exams, everyone could be seen in a bustling huddle of quills, ink and parchment and sometimes in empty classrooms practising their spellwork. Some had had started revising way before others
They all had both practical exams and theory exams, apart from History of Magic where you couldn't take a practical exam. It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell. All in all, theory wasn't too bad unless you counted History of Magic where it was a 1 hour grind of non-stop writing.
Thier practical exams were much more interesting, though it could be argued that they were harder. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Harry managed to give his a little top hat, suit and cane in the process and made it dance so vivaciously that Flitwick compared it to Charlie Chaplin, a famous muggle dancer that was a favourite of the short man. His brother, Harry had heard through Neville, somehow managed to make the pineapple combust. How, even Flitwick wasn't too sure.
Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks despite the fact they were Slytherins while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion; the irony was alomst laughable. Harry managed to concoct a near perfect brew, the colour turning a milky white towards the end. Others hadn't been quite as lucky, with Weasley's potion blowing up in his face and Granger accidentally spilling hers onto her lap. Although Snape being extra mean towards them couldn't have helped.
At last, the only test that remained for Defense Against the Dark Arts' practical exam, and although Quirrel was an incompetent swine, Harry didn't put it past him to expect them to perfectly cast the few spells he had taught them over the course of the year.
"I can't possibly cram any more information into my brain," Daphne whined, slamming her book shut so loudly she received a withering glare from the school librarian, Madame Pince.
Harry looked up from his own book, his hair wild and messy. "You can go back to the common room you know," he remarked and lowered and eyes to read.
"How long are you going to be?" Daphne whined again, attempting to straighten out the clumps in her generally immaculate hair. All their friends had gone by now and were probably fast asleep in their comfy beds. She and Harry had opted to stay and revise for a while longer, but now even she was also tired.
"Daphne," Harry said lowering his book to fully reveal his face, "Go. I'll be fine; I just need to finish reading this chapter."
"Fine," agreed Daphne, and she stood up for the first time in 2 hours and began packing up. "Don't be long though," she added, picking up her books and placing them in her bookbag.
"I won't," Harry saved and waved her off. Unfortuantely for him, his newfound peace and quiet was going to soon be disturbed by 3 idiots.
"You know," came a high-pitched voice calling snobbishly, "you really shouldn't be going there! The third-floor corridor is off limits for a reason!" Harry immediately identified it as Granger, though she was perhaps the one first-year that was in love with rules that much.
"If you have such a problem with us going there, why you don't you go away and mind you own business!" shouted Weasley. Harry sighed- he really should have known that wherever Granger went, Weasley was bound to go there as well. He waited patiently for his brother's feeble voice to come squeaking out, trying to settle things between his 2 friends, and it did.
"Both of you," snapped Thomas, "can you just stop arguing?"
"Finally got your pet monkeys under control Thomas?" Harry asked having snuck up on the unsuspecting trio. All three of them whirled around, stumbling and nearly falling flat on their faces as they tried to do so.
"Just go away Hadrian. This is none of your business!" snapped Thomas smugly as if he thought that would be enough.
"Yeah!" agreed Weasley, "No one wants a slimy snake like you around. Now get out of here unless you wanna eat slugs!"
"I'd like to see you try, Weasley. Remember what happened last time?" retorted Harry. "I think Granger does," Harry teased, the memory of Granger eating slugs still vivid in his mind. Hermione remembered it well enough as well considering the fact that Harry saw her recoil slightly, but apart from that she gave no other inclination that hse had been fazed by that.
"You surely can't beat all of us," bragged Granger smugly bringing out her wand as well, "so face it. There's three of us and only one of you."
"Fine! Fine!" Harry admitted sneakily dropping his wand into his sleeve. "I'll go now." He raised both of his wands and slowly walked away, not at all threatened by the 3 wands pointed at him. As soon as he disappeared out of sight, the 3 Gryffindors turned away thinking Harry was gone. Harry peeked around the corner he had vanished behind and pointed his wand as his brother, murmuring under his breath. A small splodge of paint shot out of the wand and attached itself to Thomas's foot, silently. It was a prank spell that left behind a green trail where ever you went and Harry wanted to know what they were up to.
His quick thinking proved useful; a moment or two later, the 3 of them disappeared under Thomas's invisibility cloak. Realistically, the cloak should have been Harry's, with him being the eldest child, but James had given it to Thomas instead (surprise, surprise) and his Grandfather couldn't do much about it and even harry was least bothered. Harry donned his own Demiguise-hair cloak and followed, right to the third-floor corridor.
Harry wanted to cry. He had been following his brother for almost an hour now and what he had done had shocked him. They were currently inside the third-floor corridor, only 3 of them as Weasley had fallen to the chess board, staring at the bottles lined up on the table. Had Thomas forgotten the stone was no longer in Hogwarts? He had been the one shouting about it in the first place. He was so idiotic that he had probably forgotten by now, Harry reasoned.
The 3 idiots had gotten past the wild hippogriff well enough (that was new from the last time Harry had been in there) by playing some horrible ear-screeching music on a flute that looked liked it used to be a dog's chew toy, but after that it was all downhill. They were so slow in getting through the Devil's Snare that they almost got strangled, though they did fine in the end. Even Harry cringed when Granger started saying there was 'no wood.' It took them well over 15 minutes to get the flying key, by flying on the broom stick, and they almost got pecked to death in the process. And of course they left the brooms behind when they entered the chess room.
Weasley had 'heroically' taken charge and in the end sacrificed himself thinking there was no other way. Dramatic much? And then they'd reached the potions challenge. Thomas had given up in the first 10 seconds, slumping down on the ground complaining how they were going to be stuck there forever, whilst Granger had actually taken some initative and started to rub her two solitary braincells together over the problem. She'd been at for over 15 minutes now, whilst it had taken Harry barely 2 minutes to do it. He'd been following them all the way, hidden under his Demiguise-hair cloak, whilst they had emerged from his brother's invisibility cloak. He couldn't help them obviously, and he'd made sure to only follow them once they'd passed the challenge. He valued his life too much to blindly jump in there with them.
"I've got it!" Granger finally cried, her face breaking into delight like she'd managed to solve the secrets of the Universe. "It's the smallest bottle," she said excitedly hurrying over and picking up the bottle with hardly any liquid in it. Harry grudgingly gave that to her, though he knew he had done it faster.
"There's only enough there for one of us," Thomas noted and Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"That's hardly one swallow."
They looked at each other. "Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. "You drink that," said Thomas. "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying- key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy - go straight to the owlery and send my owl, Merlin, to Dumbledore, we need him. I'll hold the slimy git off until then."
"But Thomas - what if You-Know-Who's with him?" simpered Hermione.
"Relax. I've beat him before, haven't I?" asked Thomas pointing to the V on his cheek. Harry did roll his eyes this time- only if he knew the truth- and tuned out the rest of their awkward goodbye and mushy moments. He only tuned back in when Granger had left and his brother picked up the bottle and drank as much as he could. Thomas shivered for a moment and then walked through the black flames onto the other side.
Harry dashed forward as soon as he did and picked up the bottle that lay on its side on the table, holding it up to his eye so could see. There were a couple drops of potion left inside and he hoped they would be enough. He brought the bottle to his lips and emptied it out fully, letting it fall to the floor. He shivered and took a deep breath and walked through the flames, still wearing his cloak.
The flames only tickled and he soon stepped through only to see his brother and Quirrel face to face. "Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell!"
"But Snape tried to kill me!" replied Thomas unbelieving
"No, no, no. No one tried to kill you! It was all an accident when instead I," Quirrel suddenly paused as if he had just heard something. "It doesn't matter anyway when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight," he replied cheerfully. Quirrel snapped his fingers again and suddenly Thomas began moving towards him. "Down to business!" Quirrel exclaimed and turned away.
Harry could only watch in shock as the events unfurled before his eyes- he hadn't suspected anyone would be after the stone, let alone Quirrel who was afraid of his own shadow. He took several deep breaths and crept up behind Quirrel, and only then did he see the shimmering ball suspended in the air. Inside it, Harry could see a faint red outline- the stone!
"Of course Dumbledore came up with us- trust him to do exactly that. But how do I get past this master?" asked Quirrel to himself, or at least that's what Harry and Thomas both thought. To both of their horror, a dry voice answered.
"Use the boy...use the boy."
"Of course, of course!" exclaimed Quirrel. He flicked his hand and ropes released Thomas, who screeched over forcefully in front of the shimmering ball. "Tell me! Tell me how to get the stone!" asked Quirrel frantically. There was a glowing light from the ball but neither Thomas nor Quirrel noticed it- Harry saw this but didn't know what it meant, and he saw a small object sink into Thomas's trouser pocket.
"I-I don't know!" whined Thomas.
"He lies... He lies..."
"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"
The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to him... face-to-face..." "
Master, you are not strong enough!"
"I have strength enough... for this..." Both Potters watched dumbfounded as Quirrel unfurled his turban and turned away from Thomas. On the back on his head was a greying, cracked face with slits for eyes. Voldemort. "See what I have become, Potter," the face spat and began the evil monologue...
"SEIZE HIM!" shouted the face at the end of said evil monologue, and Quirrel raised his own hand to grab Thomas. Harry sprung into action, his limbs able to move once again. He brought out his hand and murmured a spell, accidentally hitting Thomas instead of Quirrel. Thomas was thrown against the side of the chamber and was knocked out instantly and Quirrel turned to where the spell had come from. Harry dramatically pulled the cloak from his head and threw a stunner at Quirrel that missed.
"Of course the other Potter is here as well." Quirrel smiled and snapped his fingers and the same ropes that bound Thomas sprung up around Harry. "I've been trying to kill you all year, you know," said Quirrel merrily like he was discussing the weather.
"Wait what?" asked Harry struggling against the ropes. His wand lay in his hand but he couldn't move it to get out of the ropes.
"Oh yes! I was actually aiming for you at the Quidditch match when that oaf Hagrid bumped into me. It shook my aim onto you imbecile of a brother instead," explained Quirrel.
"Then why didn't you tell Thomas that?" asked Harry. "I'm sure he'd love to know that," spat Harry. He was doing his best to distract Quirrel and keep his attention on him not his hands which were furiously working to undo the ropes.
"Would he?" asked Quirrel smiling. "Yes, yes, I'm sure he would love to know all about how he's not the boy-who-lived when instead it's you." Quirrel smiled and took Harry's silence as shock, continuing on. "You're the boy-who-lived Hadrian Potter. My master aimed at you that night and his aim was true but some deep magic prevented you from dying. You were abandoned by your parents, Potter," continued Quirrel and suddenly the voice switched to a dry, raspy one.
"Join me, Potter. Join me and and take revenge on those who abandoned you thinking you were worthless." Quirrel turned away from Harry, who finally came face to face with Voldemort himself. "Help me get the stone and I will reward you beyond imagination."
"Are you sure about that? My imagination's quite active," quipped Harry, one hand finally free from the constraining ropes. "And you didn't realise one thing about me Voldy," began Harry grasping his wand tightly. "I've known I was the boy-who-lived for all these years." Harry brought his wand up to Voldemort's cracked face and yelled, "Confringo!" A jet of blue light shot out of Harry's wand and hit Voldemort right in the face. Him and Quirrel both exploded in fine dust and debris, scattering all over the room. A pale ghost flew out of the room leaving Harry alone.
Harry rushed over to Thomas and checked his pulse- he was breathing. With fumbling hands, he removed the stone from Thomas's pocket and held it curiously. He could tell it was a fake- the real stone radiated magic so intense even an 11 year old could feel it. This one didn't and must have been a trap to lure Voldemort into the chamber. Just to be safe, Harry smashed the stone onto the ground through pure force, the rock fragmenting into hundreds of tiny pieces. He had one more thing to do. He pulled out Thomas's invisibility cloak from his brother's pocket and replaced it with his own Demiguise hair one. The cloak was rightfully his and his brother was too much of an idiot to notice.
He got up and walked out of the room, stealing one last glance at his brother who lay knocked out on the floor. Dumbledore was coming to get him. Harry stepped into the black flames and to the other side.
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"Wh-where-where am I?" asked Thomas trying to sit up on the bed on which he currently lay.
"Good afternoon, Thomas," said Dumbledore. Thomas stared at him.
Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick -"
"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."
"Then who does? Sir, I -"
"Thomas, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out. Thomas swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. "Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."
"How long have I been in here?"
"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."
"But sir, the Stone-"
"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I-"
"Take it from me?" asked Thomas cutting Dumbledore off. "I never had the stone in the first place, sir. Quirrel was asking me where it was, and then he opened his turban and Voldemort was there trying to tell me where the stone was. But I never had the stone!"
Dumbledore waited patiently for Thomas to finish before he spoke. "You always had the stone my dear boy. In fact, when I found you sprawled upon the ground you had pieces of the destroyed stone around you."
"Destroyed?" said Thomas blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"
"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."
"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"
"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die." Dumbledore lied smoothly, smiling at the look of amazement on Thomas's face. This was a lie of course, but Thomas didn't need to know. This needed to be humbling for him and he needed to grasp the concept of death properly "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them." Thomas lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.
"Sir?" said Thomas. "How did I get the Stone from wherever it was?"
"Thomas?" asked Dumbledore cautiously, "how much do you remember?"
"Not much Professor," admitted Thomas uneasily. "I remember Quirrel tying me up and Voldemort asking me for the stone. Once he realised I didn't have it he told Quirrel to kill me. Quirrel was just about to grab my hand when suddenly everything went black."
"I feared as much," said Dumbledore sadly, but inside he was beaming. He didn't know what had actually happened but he could now twist things for his own use. "Whilst Quirrel had restrained you, I'm sure you saw the ball that hung in the air?" asked Dumbledore and Thomas nodded, almost hesitantly. "That ball was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get the stone from inside the ball, otherwise they'd just be stood there until they got bored or died. My brain surprises even me sometimes..." lied Dumbledore again. The orb had been specifically designed so that only Thomas and himself could get the stone from inside it. Of course Thomas would want to use the stone, but something like this would convince the boy he had heart and would further cement him onto Dumbledore's side.
"If I got the stone from there then why did You-Know-Who not realise it?"
"Because I don't think you realised it yourself my boy. You were tied up and your focus was on Quirrel, as it should have been, that you didn't even know you had the stone with you. When Voldemort asked whether or not you knew how to get the stone, you truly had no idea how to do so and he recognised that. That why he asked Quirrel to dispose of you, but when Quirrel touched you he burned up."
"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"
"Your Grandmother saved you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good." Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Thomas time to dry his eyes on the sheet. Whether or not this was the truth did not matter- Thomas would be the instrument he would use to get Voldemort into position where he could finish him off himself.
When he had found his voice again, Thomas said, "Sir, I've been wondering," began Thomas apprehensively, continuing when Dumbledore did not protest, "why did Quirrel or You-Know-Who want the stone?"
"This all started that one night many years ago when Voldemort attacked your home, my dear boy. When the curse reflected off your cheek here," Dumbledore paused to let Thomas touch his cheek softly, directly on the V-shaped scar, "the curse rebounded and hit him. He was forced into a ghostly life and the stone was the only way he could properly get his body back." Dumbledore stood up from the seat of Thomas's bed and walked to the door. "I'll leave you now, and undoubtedly your friends are anxious to see you." He opened the door of the hospital to allow Weasley and Granger to come charging in. "And one more thing," added Dumbledore just as he was about to leave. The 3 students turned away from each other to look at him. "Your Defense Against the Dark Arts exams have been cancelled. Think of it as a treat for helping stop the return of a Dark Lord," said Dumbledore dramatically and walked out of the room.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully at the end-of-year feast. Harry and his friends sat happily at the first year end of the long table; they'd had a very successful year. Apart from the little hiccup of a Dark Lord nearly returning but Harry had sorted that out. Nothing to worry about.
"And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...
Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with 274 points; in third, Hufflepuff, with 375; Ravenclaw has 453 and Slytherin, 479."
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry smiled and laughed- it felt good to win the house cup and on their first year as well.
"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account." The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little. "Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...yes..."
"Firstly, to Ronald Weasley, for the most brilliant game of chess Hogwarts has ever seen," began Dumbledore. "I award Gryffindor 50 points." The Gryffindor table erupted into wild cheers, more unruly than a pig eating.
"Chess! That twat's getting points for effing chess!" scoffed Harry. He'd been there when Weasley has so called played the 'most brilliant game of chess' and it wasn't anything special. "You've got to be kidding me!"
"Secondly, to Hermione Granger, for being calm and collected and using cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor another 50 points." The table of the lions erupted once more, more violently than Mount Vesuvius whilst the Slytherin wore disgust on their faces, and rightly so.
"Now, now, settle down. To Thomas Potter, for a show of incredible bravery and outsanding nerve, I award Gryffindor house 100 points." The Gryffindors erupted again, their cheers louder yet again but this time they quitened far quicker- they only needed 5 points to match Slytherin. The Slytherins' smiles had faded completely and all of them could tell Dumbledore was going to give Gryffindor the house cup, and none of them were angrier than Harry.
"Incredible bravery and outstanding nerve?" Harry shook his head. He could not believe the blatant favouritism that was coming from Dumbledore. "The only thing incredible about my brother is the fact that his neck can support his big head." Harry slumped down defeated, knowing Thomas had only gotten the points for supposedly 'defeating' Quirrel.
"Finally, it takes a great deal of strength to stand up to our enemies, but a far greater deal of strength to stand up to our friends," said Dumbledore slowly, and all 4 house tables quietened down and leaned in to listen to the old headmaster, "and for this, I award Dean Thomas of Gryffindor house 10 points." The cheering was so loud that it temporarily deafened everyone not sitting at the Gryffindor table. All the Gryffindors stood up to stand and cheer and Dean Thomas was suddenly engulfed by a massive group of students wearing red and gold whilst the so called golden trio joined in on the celebration. The Slytherins were up on their feet complaining hard but Dumbledore could not care less.
"And...they've won," said Draco dryly. "It was a good run while it lasted."
"Which means," began Dumbledore over Gryffindor's celebration, "that we will require a change in-"
"Just a moment Headmaster," said Snape standing up from his seat at the staff table.
"Now, now Severus," said Dumbledore hesitantly trying to stop Snape "just wait a mom-"
"I too have some last minute points to give out," continued Snape not caring a damn over everyone and the hall quietened down almost instantly. The Gryffindors smiles turned upside down whilst the Slytherins all leaned in closely. "For their fantastic spellwork in their end-of-year exams, I award Hadrian Potter, Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass 5 points each. I also award 10 points to Slytherin house as a whole for not making me have an aneurysm this year."
"Bu-but Severus," protested Dumbledore weakly.
"If there isn't anything else then I do believe Slytherin has won again for what may be the 8th time in a row Headmaster."
"Uh...yes." Dumbledore turned to the students. "It looks like Slytherin has won the House Cup, again," he finally said without a lot of emotion as the Slytherins began cheering and crowding around the 3 first-years that had won them the House Cup. He could have ontinued to give Gryffindor points but Severus would have done the same with Slytherin, and unlike him, Severus did not care if he looked biased. He was and the whole school already knew it.
"Oh look," said Harry pointing out the stack of letters that lay at the tables where the first years sat in the common room.
"Must be our class rankings," said Daphne. "Professor Snape told us we'd be getting them today."
Harry found his letter from the pile and handed each of his friends their's as well. He opened the letter up and skipped the introduction and went straight to the class rankings.
Transfiguration:
1. Hadrian Potter (Outstanding)
2. Rigel Black
3. Hermione Granger
...
Charms:
1. Hadrian Potter (Outstanding)
2. Tracey Davis
3. Rigel Black
...
Potions:
1. Daphne Greengrass
2. Draco Malfoy
3. Hadrian Potter (Outstanding)
...
History of Magic (Acceptable):
1. Terry Boot
2. Hermione Granger
3. Draco Malfoy
...
Defense Against the Dark Arts:
1. Hadrian Potter (Outstanding)
2. Rigel Black
3. Draco Malfoy
...
Astronomy (Exceeds Expectations):
1. Daphne Greengrass
2. Lisa Swan
3. Michael Corner
...
Herbology (Exceeds Expectations):
1. Neville Longbottom
2. Tracey Davis
3. Hermione Granger
...
Overall Year Rankings:
1. Hadrian Potter
2. Rigel Black
3. Hermione Granger
...
"So?" asked Daphne looking up from her letter. "Can I see your one?" she asked. Harry handed his one over and she did the same, and both of them looked through each other's grades. "How the hell did you manage to scrape an Acceptable in History of Magic when we were playing games at the back of the class each lesson? I ended up with a Poor," complained Daphne.
"I may or may not have bought some notes of a Ravenclaw," said Harry casually.
A few hours later, Lily came up to Harry in a corridor as he and his friends were exploring the castle a bit.
She said, "Um, Harry, could I talk to you for a moment?"
Harry glanced at his friends, then shrugged, "Sure, talk and walk Professor."
Lily cringed at the use of her formal title, but kept pace with the group first years as they made their way around the castle.
She started, "So we will meet on the entrance of station then we can head back home?"
Harry "why would I meet you at the station?"
"what do you mean why we are family we will be heading to Potter Mansion where you can spend the rest of your holidays and Holidays are time for family" Lilly said
"no I am not coming to your home I have my plans and my grandparents have decided to meet me and have a nice vacation so no thankyou I am happy away from you people and please stay away from me and you are not my family my family are my guardians and my friends not you I don't even know who you are" Harry said before Lilly could speak he turned and went on with his friends
Lily had tears in her eyes as they came to a stop.
Lily looked around and realized that she was at her office. After thinking for a moment, she turned and walked towards the Headmaster's office. When she got there, she saw James sitting with the Headmaster.
She said, sadly, "He said no. He said he's going with his grandparents and he told he is happy to stay away from us and told us to stay away from him."
James said, "What did he say when you said the holidays are a time for family?"
Lily let her tears flow, "He said that his only family are his grandparents and his friends."
James said, "we can meet father in the station when he come to pick him up we could also ask Sirius seeing how close he is with Rigel but Sirius wont talk to us and even Remus they only come to meet us during Thomas's birthday even that time they only talk to Thomas much we should try to reconcile with them"
Lilly nodded sadly as she too missed her friend Marlene who had not been such good to her since Harry was sent away.
"What do you want Thomas?" asked Harry rubbing his eyes outside the compartment his friends were in. He'd just been woken up from a nice nap by his asshat of a brother who was, as always, accompanied by his pet monkeys.
"How did you do it?" Thomas asked.
"Do what?"
"You know, how did you get Snivelly to give you points for no reason? That cup should have been ours!"
"Are you really that thick?" asked Harry fingering his wand. "Did you not see the blatant favouritism coming from Dumbledore or did you chose to ignore it because you have a thing for old men with beards?"
"Just answer the question, you slimy snake!" spat Weasley, his drool nearly flying into Harry's face.
"Just because you're too thick to understand Weasley," began Harry slowly as if he was speaking to a monkey, "I'll explain it slowly for you. We got the points because we're good at magic. You only got the points because you're precious headmaster has a weird obsession with my brother. If I were you, I'd have called CPS by now."
"How do you know what that is?" asked Hermione snobbishly. "You've lived in the wizarding world all your life," she stated as if that gave enough explanation.
"Yes well just because I've grown up with magic doesn't mean I don't know about the muggle world," retorted Harry. "Now if you asshats are done bothering me, I'd like to go back to sleep." Harry turned away from them but was grabbed by Weasley.
"We still have business with you," said Weasley drawing his wand. His brother and Granger drew theirs as well, which was impressive as they managed not to drop it whilst doing so.
"You obviously cheated on the tests as well," added Hermione, "because there's no way you could have beaten me!"
"Have you considered the fact that..." Harry slowly drew his wand, taking care to keep it out of Weasley's sight considering the red-headed idiot had a wand to Harry's face. "...I'm just smarter?" asked Harry suddenly dropping to the floor. Weasley's wand shot out a jet of red light accidentally, though Harry didn't hear the spell he shouted. Harry kicked Weasley in the legs making him fall to the ground with a thump whilst a jet of sickly green light shot from Thomas's wand. Recognising it as the slug spell, Harry batted it away back to Thomas who managed to dodge.
"Stay still will you," grunted out Hermione trying to find an angle on Harry. Thomas was in her way and she had been itching to try this weird spell she'd found in the library.
Harry threw a stunner at Thomas throwing him gently against the carriage fall and knocking him out through the spell. "Just you and me," said Harry panting slightly. He looked at Hermione who threw a purple spell at him which he redirected back towards her. She wasn't able to dodge and the spell hit her right in the face. She clutched her stomach and her cheeks bulged before several boils sprouted up her face. Meanwhile, Harry darted up to her and kicked her. Right between the legs. Hermione toppled over, passed out. "Works on both genders," he said, his breathing a bit more laboured.
He dragged all 3 unconscious bodies and dumped them right where a lot of students walked, making sure to step on them in the process. After all, they'd be feeling a lot more of that through the train journey. He headed back to his compartment, ready to take a nice long 7 hour nap.
"Hey guys, wake up." Draco shook Harry and Daphne hard making them wake up forcefully "The train's stopping," he said grabbing his trunk off the shelves.
"Draco, if you do that again I will kick you between the legs," snarled Daphne. She forcefully untangled her bunched up hair and rubbed her eyes to get the tiredness out of them.
"And I will help her," said Harry grabbing his trunk and shrinking it to the size of a matchbox. "We should get off now," he noted, seeing that the train had come to stop. Everyone followed him off the train having shrunk their trunks down as well. "Bye," said Harry spotting Sirius who saw him as well. "I'll invite you guys to the castle some time."
"Ready to go?" asked Sirius appearing at Harry's shoulder. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit unlike the robes that most wizards wore.
"Lord Black," greeted Draco formally and the others echoes him.
"None of that," said Sirius, "Lord Black makes me feel as old as Grandfather."
"But you are old," noted Harry cheekily.
"Oh yeah?" asked Sirius grinning, "Now which one of these two girls did you say was your girlfriend? And which one is yours Rigel?" He pointed to Tracey and Daphne who both blushed a little, their red cheeks similar to Harry's and Rigel's.
"I'm 11 'Padfoot' 'Dad' ! I'm not gonna have a girlfriend!" shouted Harry and Rigel at the same time.
"Just teasing." Sirius Hugged them affectionately "Grab my hand, we're going to Black Manor," he said cutting off the teasing.
"Going so soon Sirius?" Harry's parents had sneaked up on the unsuspecting group and behind them walked the 'golden trio.' Thomas was walking stiffly, Weasley had a slight limp and Granger knees were wobbly and her face was covered in boils.
"We should go," whispered Draco to Daphne, Tracey, "Harry wouldn't mind," he confirmed and they snuck away.
"What happened to them?" whispered Sirius into Harry's ear ignoring James and Lily.
"I'll tell you later," said Harry. He turned around and saw that his friends had gone and turned back to Sirius. "Can you get us out of here?" he asked and Sirius nodded.
"Hello?" asked Lily angrily, gesturing to herself and James. "We do exist you know!" It wasn't enough that Harry, Sirius and Remus had been hating them for 10 years but now they were ignoring them as well.
"We know," admitted Sirius grabbing Harry's arm who in turn grabbed Rigel's. "But we don't care so go fuck yourself, Thomas meet you later " he said happily and apparated himself and Harry , Rigel out of there.
"That was incredible," said Harry, still a little dizzy from the apparation. "Those 2 are twats."
"Damn right they are," said Sirius. "Now are you going to tell me what the deal was with your brother and his friends?" he asked and Harry began explaining.
When Marlene came into the room to greet Harry, what she found was 3 people laughing ferociously. "I married a man-child," she noted drily.
