A/N: The end is nigh! The end is written! Don't forget to leave a review - I'd really love to know what you all think.

Chapter Fifteen: The Plan

The next day, Quirrell was back in class, and Uncle Re was off recovering from his night as a werewolf. Harry saw Hermione reading the werewolf section of the Defense textbook, and decided it might be time to mention his uncle's disease to her. She seemed to be just a bit too smart for her own good - Harry wondered how it was she ended up in Gryffindor, rather than Ravenclaw.

He didn't get to wonder for long, however, since the worst headache yet sent him to the Infirmary yet again. Madame Pomfrey tutted as he entered and helped him over to a cot. "Harry, dear, perhaps I should set up a permanent bed for you? Maybe some curtains and personalized linens?" She winked, and he scowled.

"It's not exactly my fault," he complained, but she forced a Pepper-Up potion on him and wandered away to help a petite, second-year Ravenclaw, who had been bitten by a juvenile Mandrake. He had plenty of time to think while steam poured out of his ears.

Kyrios Voldemort wanted the Philosopher's Stone, it was the only explanation, at least in Harry's mind. Maybe Quirrell was keeping Voldemort alive using the unicorn's blood? It was cursed, so perhaps it couldn't restore Voldemort, only keep him from dying. The stone would be needed to cure the curse, and possibly to bring him back to his full power.

For a moment, he considered running to Papa and demanding to know how well the stone was guarded. However, none of them were supposed to know about it in the first place. There would be guards and alarms, maybe more, to keep undesirables from the prize. Granpa ran a very secure school - Papa believed it was the safest place in all of the wizarding world.

No wonder Papa wanted him to go to school here, rather than King Solomon Academie with his cousins. Harry Potter would have to be the most protected person in the world, what with Voldemort wanting him dead.

Except Granpa might not have thought of one factor in his protections: the person helping Voldemort was a staff member, living inside the very same walls as the stone itself. Quirrell might even have been there to discuss the protections on the stone! There had to be something extra guarding it; something to keep Quirrell from simply walking right up to the third floor corridor and taking the stone, and that had to be more than Granpa's presence.

And then he knew. It had to be Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed dog. Maybe Quirrell didn't know how to get past Fluffy.

But how difficult was it to get information out of Hagrid? Harry barely knew him at all, since Papa thought the half-giant was an oaf. If the fate of the wizarding world hinged on a half-giant's ability to keep a secret, Harry would be very worried indeed.

Hagrid would be the place to start, then.

------

As soon as he had a free moment, Harry hurried across the grounds to Hagrid's hut, just outside the Forbidden Forest. The hut was shabby-looking, just two rooms that were taller inside than they looked on the outside, charmed due to the occupant's height. Harry knocked on the door and waited, examining the pink umbrella laying next to the door as he shivered in the January snow.

The door opened a crack, and Hagrid's enormous eye peered out. After only a moment, it swung open, and Hagrid was in the doorway, looking baffled. "Well, Herodos Snape. Ne'er thought I'd be seein' yeh down this way."

Harry's teeth chattered. "I have a message. About the dragon. Er, Norbert."

Hagrid's gaze softened. "Bout Norbert? He okay? He likin' Romania? 'Cause ifin he's not likin' it, I'll go down there meself and bring him back - just a wee little thing -"

"No, no. Charlie said that Norbert likes Romania." Harry shivered again. "Mr. Hagrid, please, may I come in?"

"Blimey! Forgettin' my manners. C'mon in, Harry. An' call me Hagrid, e'eryone else does." Hagrid stepped aside and Harry crept by him. The inside of the hut was nice and warm and, from beside the fireplace, Hagrid's enormous boarhound growled softly in Harry's direction. "That there's Fang. Yeh missed him when yeh was down here for Norbert. Sit! Sit!" Harry did, at the table, and Hagrid stepped over to the fireplace. "Weren't expectin' company, but I was makin' tea. Care for some?"

Harry nodded. Something warm would be nice to thaw his bones a bit. "Yes, thank you."

Hagrid set a giant teacup and a normal sized one on the table and filled each. "There yeh go. Milk and sugar right here." Once that was done, Hagrid took a seat as well. "Now, what was it Charlie said to yeh? Excellent student, Charlie was. Loved comin' down here to see the animals. Great seeker, too; led Gryffindor to six years of victory."

"So I've heard," Harry grinned. Charlie probably told the stories of Gryffindor victories twice every hour over the holiday, while Dina rolled her eyes and talked to Papa instead. "Charlie said to tell you that Norbert likes Romania and is almost grown now. He flies with many other Norwegian Ridgebacks. He, er…" Harry thought quickly and came up with just a tiny white lie to help his cause. "He wanted to know where you got Norbert's egg. He thought maybe the source might have more, and would like to… rescue them so they do not grow up in poor conditions."

Hagrid's eyes misted over. "Ain't that just like Charlie Weasley. Always wantin' to help the helpless, that one. True Gryffindor. But, I'm afraid I can't help, much. I won Norbert's egg in a card game, down at the pub in Hogsmeade."

"From whom? Did you know the other player's name?"

"Naw. Most types down there don't give 'em. And the other man, he wore a dark cloak. I never quite got a look at his face." Hagrid stared thoughtfully toward the fire. "Bit odd, he was. Really wanted to get rid of the egg…"

Harry held back a sigh. He wasn't getting anywhere at all. "Was he - er - did he seem nice? Did he tell you how he got ahold of the egg?"

Hagrid shook his head again. "Naw, we talked mainly 'bout my job up here. He was int'rested to hear 'bout the magical animals I work with. Don't often find another man in the trade, yeh know. 'Specially interested in Fluffy, he was. Aren't a lot of three-headed dogs around, anymore," Hagrid said, with a wink.

"Oh? What's so interesting about a three-headed dog?" Harry tried to keep his expression innocent. He might not be a Slytherin, but living with one did plenty to help him with his grasp of subterfuge.

"Lots is int'resting 'bout a three-headed dog! Yeh should be takin' Care of Magical Creatures, Harry, that'd teach you what's so int'resting 'bout three-headed dogs. Now, Fluffy, yeh gotta be careful to feed him enough. He gets crabby when he's not fed, and all three heads have gotta eat some. Grumpy, often as not. But the secret to get him to calm down - just play him a wee bit of music, and he calms right down, sleeps like a baby…" Suddenly, a horrified expression crossed Hagrid's face. "Bugger. I shouldn't have said that.

"You told the man at the pub how to get past Fluffy?" Harry gasped. "That means he knows how to get to the Philospher's Stone!"

Hagrid's eyes widened. "Yeh're not supposed to know 'bout that!"

"It's Quirrell!" Harry said, "Quirrell's trying to steal the stone! To take it to Voldemort!"

Hagrid shuddered at the Dark Lord's name. "Quirrell's a profess'r, Harry. Dumbledore wouldn't employ someone workin' for pure evil. And Fluffy's hardly the only protection there! Even if the man from the pub were to come lookin' - and I didn't tell him 'bout the stone, hear - there's protections from a bunch o' the staff. He'd have to get past half a dozen wards and puzzles to get there! Even I don't know all o' the stuff's down there."

"Who else helped guard it?" Harry asked. He had to know how complicated it was.

"I'm not tellin' yeh," Hagrid growled. "Don't yeh be gettin' into trouble. Dumbledore's protections can keep anyone out. Even another profess'r."

"Then it will not hurt if you just tell me who helped with the protections. I do not want the stone. I want it safe. I do not want Voldemort to get it."

Hagrid shuddered again. "Please - stop sayin' the name." He paused, frowning. "Fine. I'll tell… but this had better be enough for yeh. Yer da, Lupin, Sprout, McGonagall, Flitwick, Quirrell, meself, and Dumbledore all helped with it all. Yeh see? Eight separate wards an' such. Stone's perfectly safe, there. An' Fluffy's only the first one. So leave it all be."

"I will," Harry said solemnly. However, in his head, he added a "for now." He had to be certain the stone was safe before he could rest easy. After all, if Voldemort regained his strength, Harry would be the first one he'd come after.

------

Harry talked Neville into keeping an eye on Quirrell during Defense the following day, and skived off instead. Probably, with Uncle Re out for the second day in a row, Harry would end up in the Infirmary with another headache. He was sick of Madame Pomfrey's jokes about permanent residence there.

Rather than class, Harry searched the Daily Prophet back copies for the marriage announcement for the Potters. He managed not to cry when he found it, since such a scene would've called the attention of the other students in the library (not to mention Madame Pince, who'd taken to keeping a close watch on Harry). There it was, proof positive of what Harry's real name should be. On June 16, 1978, James A. Potter and Lily A. Evans were wed by Albus Dumbledore on the Hogwarts School grounds. James, in training to be an Auror, and Lily, pursuing her teaching certificate, will reside in Godric's Hollow.

He reached up and scratched his forehead. Where was the famous scar, then? And how was it that he'd been able to survive the Killing Curse? He wasn't special, not at all. He wasn't as smart as Hermione. He wasn't good at Herbology, like Neville, and Ron was certainly better at Charms. His Transfigurations were terrible. How was it that he'd defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world, when he was only a baby?

And, perhaps more importantly - how was he going to keep all of this a secret?

------

Hermione tutted when he met up with them at lunch. "You missed discussing Blocking Charms," she said. "I'm positive they'll be on the test."

"You'll have to help me catch up," Harry replied. "I didn't wish to end up in the Infirmary again."

Ron leaned over, his voice hushed. "You think it's Quirrell making your head hurt?"

"I still think he's just allergic to garlic," Neville said.

"It's Quirrell," Harry snapped. "I listened in to Uncle Re and Quirrell talking, two nights ago. When Quirrell left the room and passed me - my head burned. I think I can sense Dark Magic."

Neville was gaping. "Woah. Really? Can you teach me to do that?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know how it is that I can do it," he admitted. "But every time Quirrell is nearby… and we think that he is the one killing unicorns, even if we don't agree on why. Killing them is certainly Dark."

"Maybe you're just allergic to Quirrell," Ron suggested.

Hermione had her eyes narrowed. "I don't know, Harry… It seems awfully odd that you'd just suddenly be able to sense Dark Magic. It seems more likely to be that room."

"It happens whenever Quirrell passes by. If he is quick about it, it does not hurt much at all. If he is slow - then my head hurts a lot. It must be worst when he covers for Uncle Re because he's there for the longest."

"I don't know of any wizards who have the ability to sense Dark Magic. There are spells… they mostly detect certain classes of magic, and Dark spells can be of many different magic classes…" Hermione sighed.

Ron shrugged. "You don't know of any, yes, but you're Muggleborn - no offense. You hardly know any wizards at all, other than the ones here at school."

"Just because I'm Muggleborn doesn't mean I'm ignorant!" Hermione snapped. "I read, Ronald Weasley, which is a skill you might consider picking up!"

"I'm only trying to help!" Ron retorted. "What if he can sense Dark Magic! Think how helpful that would be! He could be an Auror, track down all the Dark Wizards with his mystical headaches!"

Neville broke in, trying to head off an argument between Ron and Hermione. When they got started, it was rather scary how loudly they could scream. Harry was glad for Neville's action - if they were screaming, they were liable to let out some of the things they were all investigating. "Let's assume Harry can sense something in Quirrell, then, whatever it is. His da and Professor Lupin think Quirrell's up to something, too. But what do we do, now? I'll bet the professors have already told Professor Dumbledore their suspicions. If Quirrell is still teaching, Dumbledore probably does not have the proof to fire him. What are we supposed to do?"

"I've found out a bit more about the stone," Harry admitted. He told them all what Hagrid said about Fluffy. "And if it's Quirrell, he's already solved two of the puzzles. He might know more - Flitwick tends to get tipsy over the Christmas holiday, Papa told me. And Sprout loves to talk. Perhaps he has five of eight puzzles answered. With a bit if time, he could solve everything."

"What time?" Hermione asked. "When would he be able to get at the off-limits section without someone noticing? This is a school!"

"We were on break," Ron said. "And on Christmas Eve, all the Defense specimens got out… what if he let them out?" he asked. "What if he used the time he was supposed to be catching the pixies to solve more puzzles?"

"We need to help protect it," Harry said. "We need to make it so the Dark Wizards - whichever Dark Wizard we're speaking of - cannot use it."

Hermione sighed. "How can we possibly add an enchantment that they haven't thought of? We're first years, Harry. We're hardly talented enough to create a ward that a professor would be unable to break."

"It'd be safer if it weren't here at all," Neville muttered.

Harry paused as the answer came to him. "We're not going to add an enchantment. We're going to destroy it," Harry said. "If it's gone, Quirrell won't be able to get to it at all."

Ron's eyes widened. "You can't! What about Flamel? He made the thing - the books said he was over six hundred years old! If you destroy the stone, it'd kill him!"

"If we don't destroy it, Quirrell might kill all of us!" Harry countered. "Just a few weeks ago, you were talking about your plans if Voldemort were to attack the school. Now, suddenly, you think it is overreacting to think Quirrell might be working with him?"

"But he's a professor, Harry!" Hermione moaned. "Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't -"

"Quirrell went to Romania," Harry pointed out. "Papa thinks that Voldemort was in Romania; Quirrell went to Romania and came back acting off. There's a connection there, why don't you see it?"

Ron shook his head. "My brother Charlie lives in Romania, and you don't see him turning up with You Know Who."

Neville, however, looked half convinced. "I think - I think Harry has a point," Neville said, softly. "Whether or not Quirrell is helping… you know, he's still going for the stone. He's still stealing it. If he takes it… he'll do something illegal. We have to stop that."

"The teachers can stop him," Hermione said. "He can't do anything while Dumbledore is here. Dumbledore set up the wards! I'll bet he's watching over them all the time!"

"But what if Dumbledore isn't here?" Harry said. He glanced back and forth between his friends. "I need your help to do this. There are spells we will need to learn… and if we don't do it, Quirrell might get to the stone. Maybe he's taking it to Voldemort, maybe not. But, if he is, we're in danger. All of us. Do you think Voldemort will regain full strength and just ignore the people who fought against him?" Harry looked away. There was one person Voldemort would never ignore - him. "Besides," he went on, "even if Quirrell isn't working with Voldemort, he'll do something with the stone when he has it. And he'll come back to have vengeance on the ones who kept the stone from him - the professors. My family. He might hurt them, and… I need your help. I can do it alone, I can learn it all alone, especially if Granpa being here really does keep him in line… but I'm afraid that I might run out of time," Harry whispered.

Neville no longer looked only half-convinced. He simply nodded. "Tell me what to do."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "I don't know, breaking into wards the professors created… it sounds awfully illegal…" She sighed. "But… it's to save your family, and if it were my family…"

"Fine," Ron said shortly. "I'll do it. I just think - I think there's more to this than we know."

Neville spoke up. "We're all in danger, Ron, no matter who the stone's for."

They were all in danger, yes - in danger because they were friends with Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's number one target. Harry looked away.

------

"So what is there to do?" Hermione asked. "What's the plan?"

It was finally Saturday, a Hogsmeade day, so all of the students third-year and above were out of the castle. Professor Quirrell was one of the chaperones. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville sat clustered in the corner of the Common Room, pouring over textbooks.

Ron had a scrap of parchment, and was jotting down everyone's ideas. "We should find some way to watch the corridor," he suggested. "Then, if Quirrell shows up, we'll know that we have to stop him."

"By then, it might be too late," Hermione pointed out.

"A silence spell," Harry said.

Neville looked confused. "We'd want to make Quirrell… unable to speak?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "Not that kind of silence. A spell to make a person… silent. When they move. I - in the third year textbook, there is a spell to make one blend into the background. It doesn't hide noise, however."

Ron scribbled about the chameleon charm. "So, that's useful."

"A dampening charm?" Hermione asked. "Is that what you mean, Harry?"

"Yes. Dampening." Harry nodded. "Then when I- we sneak down to destroy it, we can get past spells that depend on noise."

"Or Quirrell watching us," Ron pointed out.

Hermione grabbed a Charms book and started looking for a dampening spell. Neville spoke up next. "Each of those teachers is helping with the defences?" When Harry nodded, Neville looked thoughtful. "I suppose they'll make wards with what they know. Professor Sprout… maybe she'll use a tangle weed. Or Lethe's Bramble - if the thorns prick you, the poison on them will make you forget where you're going."

"McGonagall will transfigure something. Maybe… maybe she'll transfigure the door into a lion? And you have to transfigure it back to get through?" Ron suggested.

Harry shrugged. "It could be anything. Any plant, any transfiguration, any charm. Trying to learn counter spells for specific wards won't help. We need stealth… perseverance…"

"Patience," Hermione countered. "If we're really planning on doing this, we'll need to be patient."

"He could be up there right now, singing Hagrid's dog to sleep," Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. "I thought we'd decided that he wouldn't, not while the Headmaster was still around."

Harry snorted. "You decided. I did not agree. I think that the sooner we destroy the stone, the better it will be for all of us. And I am learning the dampening charm."

"You'll learn it once we find it," Neville pointed out, "and if we keep arguing over who's decided what, we'll never have a charm at all."