The Philosopher's Stone Part Two

It was Quirrell standing in front of the mirror.

"You!" Harry gasped in shock.

"Me," he said calmly. Quirrell smiled; his face wasn't twitching at all. "I was wondering whether you would be meeting me here, Potter."

"But-- but... Snape--"

"Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, s-stuttering Professor Quirrell?" Quirrell laughed. Harry gaped at Quirrell with his mouth open, then he shut it quickly. This was... it was... extremely confusing. Where did Snape fit in all of this now?

"But, Snape tried to kill me!" Harry said.

"No, no, my dear boy. I tried to kill you," Quirrell corrected. "Snape tried to save you," Quirrell snapped his fingers and ropes sprang from out of nowhere and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

"But... WHAT?" Harry exclaimed, still shocked.

"Now, quiet Potter, I need to examine this interesting mirror..." It was then that Harry realized what Quirrell was standing in front of. It was the Mirror of Erised. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone..." Quirrell muttered, walking around the frame of the mirror. All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell from concentrating on the mirror. But how did he do that? He needed a good distraction.

"Have you ever seen a werewolf devour a human's brains while the human was still alive and screaming?" Harry asked coolly. Quirrell turned to Harry sharply.

"What?" he asked.

"Have you ever seen a werewolf devo--"

"I heard what you said!" Quirrell shouted. "But why did you say it?" he asked.

"I was just asking," Harry said. "You said that you encountered vampires, but vampires are nothing compared to werewolves."

"What are you onto, Potter?" Quirrell asked. "Oh well, I have no time for idle discussion." He turned back to the mirror to Harry's horror. Harry continued talking; if anything, he could make Quirrell vomit for a good four minutes while he thought about how to get out.

"I mean, the skull is definitely the hardest part of a human, but once the teeth break past it then it's just blood and brain... it's really quite interesting," Harry continued. "The person is dead on contact if they're lucky, minutes if they're not. The pain must be unbearable, having something tearing into your very being-- I wonder if it feels like the thoughts are being ripped from your mind as you're thinking. I wonder if they can even think as they're blood is just pouring out in the quarts,"

Harry really had no idea what he was talking about. He'd seen a dead person all of one time, but never actually witnessed any of the events he was rambling about. But on the other hand, it did seem to have the desired effect on Quirrell. He was shutting his eyes tightly and the blood was draining from his face.

"And then the wolf moves onto neck; it bites deep into the flesh--"

"SILENCIO!" Quirrell gasped, pointing his wand at Harry. Harry's voice went out in a flash. He opened his mouth to growl but no sound came out. "I know what you're trying to do here, Potter. You're trying to divert my attention," Quirrell said nervously. "I-it's not working,"

Then why are you stuttering? Harry thought to himself. Quirrell smiled and turned back to the mirror.

"Now, I see my desire. I see myself presenting the Stone to my master... but where is it?" he asked. Harry licked his lips and tried to pull his hands out from the ropes as Quirrell spoke. He was starting to get just a little bet scared now... just a little. He slowly and quietly slid to the ground and sat down. Luckily, Quirrell didn't notice.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Is the Stone inside of the mirror? Should I break it?" Quirrell asked himself as Harry pulled his feet towards him, trying to pull his shoes off. Then, something caught Harry's attention. A voice.

"Use the boy... Use the boy..."

"You heard that too right?" Harry asked skeptically. Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"You! Come here!" Quirrell clapped his hands once and the ropes fell off. Harry slowly got to his feet and walked over reluctantly. Quirrell impatiently grabbed him by the shoulder and directed him towards the mirror. "Finite Incantatem. What do you see?" he asked. "Look!" Quirrell backed away and Harry looked in the mirror.

I must lie, I need to lie... Harry thought desperately.

"I see... myself and I'm watching Serial Passions... Mark has gone back to Kate and they now have a son... his name is... Ronald..." Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

He really saw something much different. It was him, with a large red stone in his hand. The Philosopher's Stone. Mirror-Harry was putting the Stone in his pocket. At that moment, Harry felt something real drop into his pocket.

"Damn it!" Quirrell cursed. He shoved Harry aside and looked in the mirror again. Harry looked from the mirror, to Quirrell. Dare he make a break for it? He could probably get quite far...

Harry hadn't walked three paces when he heard a small, high-pitched voice (which, at first he thought was Mafalda-- which put an equally bad future in his mind). But Quirrell's lips weren't moving.

"He lies... he lies..."

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell yelled. The fear that had left when Harry had gotten the Stone and was on his way out returned, and it bought it's friend 'panic' and 'trembles'. "What did you see?"

"I told you! Serial Passions, Mark and Kate, small son Ronald," Harry summarized. The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him... face to face..."

"But master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrell protested.

"I have strength enough for this..." Harry gulped. He was a bit more afraid of the prospect of going up against Voldemort. His 'trembles' had turned into small seizures now as Quirrell slowly unwrapped his turban. Was Voldemort going to pop out of the back of his head like Athena did to Zeus?

Well, not quite. When Quirrell's turban was completely off, he rotated on the spot. Harry would have screamed, but he settled for yelping. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face. A really, really ugly face; chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils-- almost like a snake.

"Harry Potter..." it hissed. Harry tried to take a step backwards but a shot of pain went through his body. "See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds...Unicorn blood has strengthened me... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixer of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... now... Why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

Harry yelped again. It definitely wasn't a very manly yelp either. He took a step backwards and his body surged with pain as he stumbled.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy," with those few words, Harry's fear turned into anger.

"LIAR!" Harry yelled.

"Your mother... she needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone unless you want her to have died in vain." Harry was burning all over from rage, his scar seared with needle-sharp pain.

"Never," he growled. He started running towards the flame door.

"SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand on his wrist. Harry howled in pain as his scar began to blaze in pain. All of the words Voldemort had said about his parents suddenly came back to him. To Harry's surprise, Quirrell let go of him and staggered back. A bright light blinded Harry and he felt pain envelope his body. The last thing he remembered was the look of horror on Quirrell's face. Then, nothing.

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. That wasn't the Snitch. It was a pair of glasses. Harry blinked again; it was Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a croak. His throat felt horrible, as if he'd eaten something funny... he had a bad taste in his mouth as well...

Dumbledore calmly passed Harry a pail and turned the other way as Harry began vomiting into the bucket.

"I expected something like that to happen," he said. Harry looked up at Dumbledore's back, before retching again. When he finally finished, he put the pail down and sat back.

"So... I ate him?" Harry asked. "That can't be good for my permanent record,"

"You ate one finger," Dumbledore corrected. "It seems you are not a very dangerous Garou after all, as you have an allergic reaction to human blood or a very sensitive stomach."

"Maybe it's just evil Dark Lord blood," Harry said sullenly. "Which finger?" he asked. Dumbledore raised his pinky and waved it a little. Harry looked around him. He was lying in a bed, in the hospital wing. Next to him was a table piled high with candy.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore explained. "What happened in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so naturally, the whole school knows!"

"Do they know about the whole... blood condition?" Harry asked. Blood condition, that's a good euphemism to describe lycanthropy, Harry decided.

"Luckily that part we were able to hide from the students."

"How long have I been here?" Harry asked.

"Three days," Dumbledore said. "You woke up periodically to empty your stomach." A werewolf allergic to human blood, Harry thought, this is not stuff of fairy tales.

"So you got Hermione's owl?" he asked.

"We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear that my place was here. I arrived just in time to stop you from eating Quirrell's ring finger." Harry chuckled.

"That's good, we wouldn't want that happening. What happened to Quirrell?"

"The stress of having a being trapped in your head is very strong, Quirrell was unable to handle it." Dumbledore said calmly.

"He's dead?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded. "And the Stone?"

"Destroyed," Harry looked at his lap.

"I'm sorry I caused so much trouble," he said in a low voice.

"Trouble?" Dumbledore asked. "You possibly saved us all from a fate worse than death,"

"But, sir, even if the Stone's gone... Vo-- You-Know-Who--"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things."

"Right, Voldemort. Doesn't he have other ways of coming back to life?" Harry asked.

"He isn't dead, Harry. He is still out there, perhaps looking for another body to share. He left Quirrell to die; nevertheless, you only delayed his return and have given us time to prepare for the next time." Harry nodded, but stopped quickly because it made his head pound.

"And now if you'll excuse me, I have a feeling someone wants to be let in," Dumbledore looked towards the window and Harry followed his gaze. He could see two pairs of hands on the ledge of the window. Fi and... Felan?

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "If you had a question about a friend that you wanted to ask them, and it was a really important question... how would you go about that?" Dumbledore smiled. He leaned over and whispered something into Harry's ear that made Harry's eyes widen. "I thought so," Harry said. Dumbledore smiled and walked over to the window. He opened it up and the two cubs pulled themselves into the room unceremoniusly.

"About bloody time!" Felan wheezed. "You know how hard it is to keep yourself from fidgeting while hangin' over a sill so that no one sees ya?" he asked.

"Don't you ever use the door?" Harry asked. Fi stood up and held out her hand to Dumbledore.

"'Sup with your voice, Potter?" Felan asked gruffly.

"'Sup with your voice? You sound Irish again," Harry joked. Felan stuck out his tongue.

"Professor Dumbledore, it's good to see you. Ignore the talking rabbit over there, he's been going spare for quite a while," she said. Dumbledore shook her hand. He turned to Harry.

"Remember what I said," he said, then walked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"All righty then, we've got to make this quite a short visit because I've got to catch the next bus back to Daddo's," Felan said. "Let's skip the hugging and embracing and get right back to the gritty details that I can use to make Aunt Aibhlin's eyes pop right out of their sockets."

"Yeah, I want to know something that Marlaina doesn't," Fi said. "Felan, don't eat that," she said. Felan reluctantly put down the potion and pulled over a chair.

"Now talk, Pine Tree," he snarled. Harry smiled and began to tell them the whole story.

When Harry got out of the hospital wing, Hermione and Ron were waiting impatiently in the common room.

"Harry!" Hermione flung her arms around him again and Harry flinched.

"You're hurting me," he said, his voice still very croaky.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione was beaming. "Oh, Harry, we weren't sure you were going to-- Dumbledore was so worried!"

"The whole school's talking about it!" Ron said. "What really happened?" he asked. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; Voldemort poking out of the back of Quirrell's head; the mirror; Voldemort insulting his parents; and the Stone... Ron and Hermione were a very good audience. They gasped when in all of the right places, their eyes widened in all of the right places and Hermione screamed twice. Once when Harry told her about Voldemort under Quirrell's turban, and the next time when he told her he ate Quirrell's pinky.

"You ate his pinky?" Ron asked. "How did it taste? Don't tell me it tasted good--"

"Don't worry, I'm allergic," Harry said. He pointed to his throat for emphasis.

"That's good," Hermione said. "That way you won't get any... you know, cravings."

"I don't get cravings anyways," Harry protested.

"So, the Stone's gone?" Ron asked finally. Harry nodded.

"That's what Dumbledore said," Harry said.

"D'you think he meant to do it? By sending you your father's cloak and all?" Ron queried.

"Well, if he did that's really dangerous," Hermione chastised. "We could have died,"

"Not really," Harry said. "Dumbledore's a funny man. He knows a lot more than any of us do. He had a pretty good idea that we were going to try this and helped us along,"

"He's off his rocker," Ron said simply with a hint of pride in his voice.

After a good night's sleep, Harry felt almost back to normal. His throat still felt like he'd tried to swallow a few hundred fireworks, and he still couldn't speak very well, but it was worth it. Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast with Hermione and Ron. When they entered the already full great hall, there was a sudden hush. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors, green and silver, and a huge banner with a snake on it was on the wall behind the High Table.

Harry, Hermione and Ron sat down at Gryffindor table. Harry ignored the fact that people were practically breaking their necks trying to get a good look at him. Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived a few moments later and the murmurs died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said happily. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into this 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 our next year starts..." Unfortunately, that wasn't a choice for Harry.

"Now as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding; the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six; and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

There was a fresh storm of cheering, yelling and whistling from the Slytherin table. It was a sickening sight.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore paused. "However, there are a few last minute points to award!" The room seemed to freeze. "Ahem, let me see... Yes. To Mr. Ron Weasley, fifty points are awarded to Gryffindor house for the best played game of chess this school has seen in many years..."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the cieling. At last there was silence again.

"Second-- to Miss Hermione Granger... for the cool use of intellect in the face of danger, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." The Gryffindors were beside themselves as they cheered. "And third! To Mr. Harry Potter," the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points!" The yelling was deafening. Especially to Harry who had to cover his ears to keep out the excess noise. Those who could add up while shouting knew that Gryffindor now had the same amount of points as Slytherin. Dumbledore raised his hand and it was quiet once more.

"And lastly, to Mr. Neville Longbottom-- it takes great courage to stand up to ones enemies, but even greater courage to stand up to ones friends... I award Gryffindor house ten points!" Harry could have sworn that the castle itself shook with the yelling from Gryffindor table. Harry saw Malfoy, white as a sheet and completely stunned.

"Which means, we need a change of decoration." Dumbledore clapped his hands and the green and silver hangings became scarlet and gold, and the banner of a snake became the banner of a lion. Harry was so happy, that he didn't notice that after dinner, the Slytherins all seemed to be rushing to the bathrooms covering their mouths. He did catch a glimpse of Marlaina and Charlotte near the entrance of the Great Hall with a huge plastic bag in their hands though. He'd worry about the implications of that later though.

Soon, exam results were passed back. Harry and Ron both did good, Hermione did best out of all of the first years (of course) and Neville managed to scrape up good marks.

Suddenly, the wardrobes were empty; trunks were packed. Notes were handed back to the students; warning them not to use magic over summer holiday. Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats again. They sailed across the lake and Harry was about to board the Hogwarts express when Hagrid stopped him.

"Yeh didn' think yeh were about to leave without saying good-bye, did yeh?" he asked. Harry grinned. "Well, I've got a present for yeh," Hagrid took a large, leather-bound volume out of his jacket and handed it to Harry.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"Open it," Hagrid said. Harry opened the book to find many wizard photographs of his mother and father, smiling and waving at him. "I sent owls off ter all yer parents' old friends, askin' fer photos... knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?" Harry couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.

Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with the book tucked tightly under his arm. Everybody was talking and laughing; eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into the platform at King's Cross Station.

It took a while for them all to get off of the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they would attract attention.

"You have to come and stay this summer," Ron said to Hermione and Harry. "I'll send an owl,"

"Thanks," said Harry. When they got through the gateway into the Muggle world, people called at him from all sides.

"Bye, Harry!"

"See you, Potter!"

"What's funny is, I don't know any of these people," Harry whispered to Ron.

"You're famous, you know everybody!" Ron said.

"There he is, Mum, there he is, look!" It was Ginny, Ron's little sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.

"Harry Potter!" She squealed. "Look, mum! I can see--"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.

"Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley," Harry thanked.

"Oh, it was nothing dear," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Ew, someone just sneezed on me!" Harry recognized that voice. He turned around to see Dymphna rubbing her arm a few feet away. Her hair was a platinum blonde and she was sucking on a lolly.

"You must be from Harry's family?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Dymphna looked up, realized that she was being spoken to.

"Uh, in a manner of speaking," Dymphna answered. "I'll be in the car, Potter," she said. She walked away. Harry hung back for a last good-bye with Hermione and Ron.

"See you over summer, then." Ron said.

"Hope you have a nice holiday," Hermione said.

"I will," Harry nodded. "I think it'll be nice to go back to being normal again. Well, as normal as I could get at least..." When Harry walked out to Dymphna's car, she was hovering over a baby's car seat.

"You've got a kid?" Harry asked. Dymphna opened the car boot so that he could put his trunk in.

"Oh, uh.. Harry, this is my cousin, Artie, I'm taking him on vacation to the French Riviera right after we drop you off," Dymphna said. "It's why I got the dye-job, see?" she gestured to her hair. Harry nodded and got into the car. "So, are you all ready to be boring and normal again?" Dymphna asked.

"I guess," Harry said. "Can we stop and get some Mars Bars on the way?"

A/N: My first finished story! Wow! I'm so amazed. Okay, the sequel should be out pretty soon. If you're lucky, I'll start working on it right after this. I'm loading on fanfiction dot net right now....

First, I want to say thanks to all of the people who put up with this story. Thank you, you all get double milk and cookies! I'll be back with the sequel soon, so look out for it!