Harry woke up to hushed voices. Regaining consciousness happened slowly, in stages, and at first the spoken words blended with the remaining fragments of his dreams.

"You're wasting my time, Albus. I know what magical exhaustion looks like. So unless you're planning to question him, I don't see why my presence is required."

"Patience, Severus. The boy has been through quite enough tonight. There will be time enough to ask him what we cannot deduce later on. For now, I wanted us to check how the blood protection has fared."

Harry was awake enough at this point to recognise Professor Dumbledore's voice. He suddenly remembered all that had happened and quickly opened his eyes, ashamed to realise he must have nodded off. There was dim light coming in from the windows, announcing the arrival of the morning. He had slept for hours, he realised, without any sense that time had passed.

Not much else seemed to have changed, though. Ron was still sleeping in the bed next to his, and Hermione was curled up uncomfortably in a nearby chair, Harry's invisibility cloak only halfway covering her. Neville, at least, seemed to have left.

"What is this!" said Snape, his voice rising. "Why are they still here?" He gestured at Harry's friends.

Hermione shifted and woke at the noise, but before she could do more than stare panic-stricken at her professors, Madam Pomfrey joined them, wearing a thick robe over what Harry suspected were nightclothes.

"What is this commotion? There are recovering patients in here – Oh, Miss Granger. Didn't I tell you to leave?"

"I – Well, I-"

"Wha's goin' on?"Ron sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"My question exactly. What are you still doing here?" said Snape.

"Mr. Weasley insisted his head was still hurting him, so I allowed him to stay the night," said Madam Pomfrey sceptically.

"It's admirable that you both wished to stay near your friend but I think you better return to your dorm rooms now," said Professor Dumbledore kindly. "It's almost time to get up and you have been awake half the night."

Harry's friends were reluctant to leave, but without help from Dumbledore, they caved under Snape's glare.

"We're not going to stay here for long. I just need to cast a few spells on Mr. Potter, just to make sure we haven't missed anything," Professor Dumbledore told Madam Pomfrey. "He won't even be aware of anything," he added, to forestall any protests from her.

"All right then. But please make sure not to wake him. The poor boy could use some rest after all he's been through."

"Of course," said Dumbledore, as he walked with her to the door. He came over to Harry's bed as soon as Madam Pomfrey had left.

"So, Harry. How are you feeling now?" he asked, sounding nothing but kind and concerned.

Harry opened his eyes and caught sight of a surprised expression leaving Snape's face.

"Has anyone ever told you that eavesdropping can land you in sticky situations, Potter?"

"Severus, please remember what we came here for. We do not want to disturb Mr. Potter's rest for longer than necessary. I'm only going to cast a few diagnostic spells, Harry, and then we'll leave you to rest. Feel free to go back to sleep whenever you want. We'll make sure not to wake you."

"Oh, I'm not sleepy any more." Harry pushed himself higher up against the head of his bed to demonstrate.

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad to see you're doing better, dear boy. For a moment, when I received Professor Snape's message, I thought all my worst fears had been realised." He began moving his wand in a complex pattern in Harry's vague direction, occasionally muttering fragments of spells Harry did not recognise.

"You were just in time, Professor. I tried my best to keep the Philosopher's Stone from Quirrel, but I don't think I would have lasted much longer..."

"I wasn't worried about the stone, Harry. I was worried about you. Severus' message reached me mid-air and I hurried to return, but I was so afraid I would be too late..."

"Hermione was going to send you an owl this afternoon, but then we, er..." Harry trailed off, remembering that they had reconsidered after talking to Snape who had promised to inform Professor Dumbledore himself. And who was now standing right in front of him. At least Harry had enough sense not to glance his way.

Snape shifted. "I sent you an owl, I'm afraid," he told the headmaster. "But of course it would have been unable to find you if you were..." The professors exchanged a look.

"Yes, of course we were warded against intruders," said Dumbledore, noticing Harry's curious expression. "I was flying to London with a Ministry official, Harry, and we were discussing confidential matters. A rather unfortunate thing to have done at this time. The patronus Professor Snape sent tonight was one of the few ways I could have been reached. It's a somewhat drastic way of communication – not the most subtle, certainly. But it made it easier for me to make a quick exit without seeming impolite. Then I apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and flooed to my office from there." The last part was directed more towards Snape than Harry, who only understood part of the explanation.

Silence fell in the room as Professor Dumbledore went back to casting spells and even pulled out one of his strange-looking instruments from somewhere within his robes and sat it down at the end of Harry's bed. It began whirring in confusing patterns, lulling Harry back to sleep. He looked away to stay alert, far more interested in satisfying his curiosity.

"Professor, what will happen to the Philosopher's Stone now?" he asked the headmaster.

"I see you will not be deterred from hearing the whole tale." Professor Dumbledore smiled. "I'll have to speak to its owner first, but I hope I can convince him that such an artefact is too dangerous, too easily misused and that it needs to be destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Harry 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?"

"Unbelievable," muttered Snape in a far less complimentary tone.

"I'm going to have a chat with Nicolas. I believe I can convince him that it's for the best," the headmaster went on, not heeding Snape.

"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 smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face. "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 is 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."

"As you seem up to asking questions, Potter, maybe you could answer one of mine while we're on the topic," said Snape. "How did you come to suspect Quirrel and how did you know I did as well?" he went on before Dumbledore could interrupt him.

Harry considered pointing out that those were two questions, but Dumbledore forestalled him to say as much, adding, "There is no need to tire Mr. Potter out at this time by bombarding him with questions."

Harry decided he would rather answer Snape with Dumbledore present. "It's all right. I'm not that tired," he said. "It all began during my first quidditch match. Someone was cursing my broom."

"And you immediately suspected it was Quirrel, of course. That's how I ended up with burnt robes, I suppose," drawled Snape.

"Er... are you accusing me of something, Professor?"

"More likely one of your sidekicks. I can't prove it, of course-"

"And therefore we owe it to Mr. Potter and his friends to give them the benefit of the doubt," Dumbledore interrupted him, and it seemed to Harry this was not the first time the argument had come up. "And even supposing they did arrive at that erroneous conclusion, they cannot be faulted. Mr Potter's life was at stake. So, Harry, supposing you and your friends did initially suspect Professor Snape, how did you come to change your minds?"

"Er, well, you see, during the match – with so little time to think – and Professor Snape muttering and pointing his wand at me – er, someone might have thought..."

"Of course," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes, while Snape glared.

"I was casting a counter-curse, Potter-"

"Well, yes. We figured that out later on. Someone must have been casting a counter-curse and none of us saw anyone else muttering. So we figured you could have been doing either."

"And what convinced you that Professor Snape was the one casting the counter-curse?" asked Dumbledore.

A moment of awkward silence fell, as all three of them were aware that Snape's hatred for Harry made him more than a little suspicious.

"Well." Harry cleared his throat and considered how best to answer. He thought it was probably best to mention eavesdropping as little as possible. "Er, well, the thing is, he's a professor – a teacher – Not the most glamorous – Not that there's anything wrong with being a teacher-"

"There's a whole host of things wrong with it. Now, get to the point," said Snape.

"Well, you've been a professor for a long time now. Hogwarts professors live here in the castle. This is their whole life-"

"Get to the point."

"Right. Right. Well, we just thought, why now? Why would a Hogwarts professor suddenly decide to steal the Philosopher's Stone? It's not an obvious plan, is it? It's dangerous and criminal. And it's not like the stone was here to begin with and would have given you ideas. We knew someone had tried to steal it from Gringotts this summer and that's why the stone came to be kept here at the castle."

"How did you learn about all these details-"

"Now, Severus, one question at a time, please," said Dumbledore with a barely suppressed smile. "Do go on, Harry."

"Er, yes. So, Professor Snape has taught here for many, many years now-"

"Not that many," said the surly potions master.

"Ron said you taught his oldest brother Bill, so that's at least-"

"Get. On. With. It."

"Right. So you've been a professor a while. So why now? Why decide you don't want this life any longer – And as we thought that, we realised you hadn't. You didn't seem like you were expecting to get away from all this any time soon. The way you get angry at everyone for every little thing – you're clearly here for the long haul. You expect to be here next year, and the year after, and so on, or all these little details wouldn't bother you so much.

"So we thought next: Who was new? It may seem a little unfair, but it makes sense, doesn't it?"

"It does, indeed. Quirrel only applied for the teaching post after his failed attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Gringotts. Well considered, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Actually, it was Ron who first thought that Snape – Er, I mean, Professor Snape-" he corrected as soon as he saw the glare on the potions master's face, "acted far too much like his usual self. He would know best, of course, what with all his older brothers. And then Hermione did all her logical conclusions, and wrote whole lists of arguments. Oh, actually, it was Dudders who first made us suspicious-"

"Who?" asked Snape.

"Oh, that's my cousin, Dudley. He wrote something in one of his letters. The first suspect is never guilty in a whodunnit, because that would be boring, is I think what he wrote. Not that it would have been boring if you had tried to steal-" Harry began to amend his words at Snape's scowl, only to be interrupted.

"Your muggle cousin?"

Harry bristled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I'm merely surprised. I didn't think you would keep correspondence with your muggle family."

Harry hesitated, unsure how to answer. It was true, he did not like (most of) his muggle family. On the other hand, a Slytherin assuming that would be the case made him want to contradict him.

"We heard about Hagrid's meeting with your family, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, as an explanation. "I'm glad to hear that he misinterpreted the situation after all."

"No, it's – it's just my cousin, Professor. My aunt and uncle – well, if Hagrid told you all about them, then you know how things are with them."

"I see," the headmaster said gravely.

The instrument placed at the end of Harry's bed stopped whirring at that moment and Snape walked over to pick it up.

"Albus, do you want me to leave this in your office?" he asked, already turning to leave.

"Yes, thank you, Severus. Actually, unless Mr Potter has any more questions-" He began to rise.

"I-"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I wanted to ask – Professor, what happened to Quirrel?" Harry asked the question he needed to know – and dreaded – the answer to the most.

Dumbledore sat back down with a sigh. "Quirrel, yes. Another unfortunate soul who succumbed to the lure of power. Once he began to weaken, Voldemort abandoned him, leaving him burnt, unconscious and suffering from magical exhaustion-"

Harry noticed Snape twitch at the mention of Voldemort's name.

"It is not entirely clear how badly he was hurt, I'm afraid. He still lives, but has remained unresponsive so far," the headmaster went on. "Such a shame. Such a waste of talent. He used to be a very bright young man, a consummate Ravenclaw – or so I thought. That he would abandon his good sense for Voldemort's empty promises-"

"He is in a coma, and likely to remain so for some time. If he wakes up at all, he'll face a lifetime of either Azkaban or St. Mungo's. Either way, he won't cause any more trouble," said Snape in a way that ended the topic. Harry suspected it was so he would no longer have to hear the name Voldemort spoken aloud.

"He was a Ravenclaw?" Harry asked a heartbeat later, too surprised to let it go.

Snape's face darkened. "What, did you think being a Slytherin was a requirement for joining the dark lord's ranks? Or automatically granted you access to his ranks? How very disappointing it must be for you, Potter, to have your prejudices so contradicted."

"I – I don't-"

"Severus, he's just repeating what he's heard." Dumbledore said.

"From you, at this moment. 'A consummate Ravenclaw', indeed."

"Severus-"

But Snape shook his head and turned towards the door again. "Never mind. See me after you're done here," he said over his shoulder while he walked out the door.

"I don't think that! I asked him for help, didn't I?" complained Harry. "If anyone is prejudiced, it's the Slytherins. Always suspecting everyone else has the worst intentions," he added softly.

This led to Harry asking about some more things Quirrel and Voldemort had told him, beginning with whether Snape really hated him because he used to hate his father.

It was while Dumbledore was explaining how he had hidden the stone inside the mirror that they were interrupted by Hedwig tapping at one of the large hospital windows. Once let in, she flew rather frantically to Harry and dropped a letter in his lap. It was from Dudley. Harry read through it quickly.

"It's from my cousin," Harry began to explain, noticing Dumbledore's curious look.

"A little early in the morning for a letter, isn't it? Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah, he's fine. It's because I wrote him yesterday, and told him what was going on. Hm. He's telling me to tell a teacher and not to go after Quirrel on my own." Harry rolled his eyes. "Bit late for that."

"Your cousin was concerned."

"He was, yes," Harry agreed, surprised.

Dumbledore sat back in thought, stroking his beard. "Harry, how would you like a visit from your cousin?" he asked a moment later.

"What?"

"We don't usually have muggle visitors. With so many muggle repelling wards it tends to be a little tricky. After all, they can't even see Hogwarts from the outside. But family should be allowed to visit a student we allowed to get hurt as badly as you did."

The headmaster chuckled at Harry's amazed look and then left him alone to recuperate and consider all the possibilities Dudley's visit entailed.

The rest of Friday was a day of visits for Harry. His friends came to see him as soon as their classes were finished. They filled each other in on the events of the night before. Harry went first, as he had a lot more to tell and then Hermione told him how she had gone back to Ron and how Dumbledore and Snape had found them while she was still trying to bring him round.

"They went after you as soon as I was awake. We went back and found Neville waiting at the entrance. He looked really scared – not sure how he managed to keep himself from passing out long enough to tell Snape what had happened," Ron finished the tale.

Harry's friends spent the rest of the afternoon with him, despite Madam Pomfrey's initial objections. They talked and played chess, but the matron drew the line at exploding snap. They also began to plan Dudley's visit.

Presents began to arrive for Harry. The events of the night before were supposed to be a secret, but it seemed the whole school knew. Quite a lot of sweets and get well cards arrived over the course of the day. There was even a hilarious moment when Ron's twin brothers, George and Fred, tried to smuggle in a toilet seat. Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey caught them and confiscated it.

Later that evening, after Ron and Hermione had left, Harry had another visitor. Hagrid came to apologise to Harry for telling Quirrel how to get past Fluffy and to tell him he was working on a little something to cheer him up. This time, Hagrid managed to keep a secret and Harry was left curious about what sort of present to expect.

~HP~

Saturday morning, Smeltings had a most curious visitor. He was a tall old man with long hair and beard, dressed in a brightly coloured suit and wearing half-moon spectacles. He should have caught everyone's attention, yet Dudley was the only one who seemed to notice what a strange appearance he was. They looked at each other across the courtyard, the stranger and the all too ordinary-looking boy. Then the old man walked over towards him.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Dursley," he addressed the boy directly. Still no one paid them any attention.

"Are – are you a wizard?" Dudley asked meekly.

"Why, yes, I am! Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, at your service."

The headmaster. Dudley's imagination ran wild, thinking of the scenarios involving Harry that might have warranted the headmaster's visit to Dudley. The old man's cheerful demeanour seemed at odds with such possibilities, though.

"Is Harry all right?" Dudley asked, and was surprised at himself how fearful he sounded.

"He is. Please don't worry. I didn't mean to frighten you." Dumbledore turned serious. "However, I'm afraid your cousin did get hurt Thursday night and had to spend yesterday in the school's hospital wing. I believe you know some of what he was involved in. The rest he can tell you once you see him, assuming you agree to visit him."

"Visit him? Where?"

"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore answered calmly, as if it was the most mundane thing, to be invited to a magical school.

"N-now?"

"If you agree. I'll have to talk to your headmaster, but I'm certain I can convince him," the wizard said with a twinkle.

Dudley had no doubt of that. A quick look around confirmed that people were still ignoring them.

"Are you using a disillusionment charm?" he asked instead of giving his decision. He could not quite wrap his head around the possibility yet. Seeing his cousin again was scary enough, but being among so many magical people was an idea that was beyond his powers of imagination.

"Oh, very good. You are surprisingly well informed. I'm gratified to meet a non-magical child who, instead of being afraid of magic, shows such acceptance and curiosity. To answer your question, I'm using several, slightly more powerful wards, but one of them is quite similar to the disillusionment charm."

Dudley nodded. The unexpected praise, though not entirely deserved, flattered him and gave him a burst of courage. Suddenly the thought of actually getting to see Hogwarts sounded exciting, rather than frightening. "Yes," he said before he could reconsider. "I want to visit Harry." His heart was beating a mile a minute, but he would not let this opportunity pass.

"Very well, then. Let's see if we can convince your headmaster to let you leave the school for the day." To emphasize his words, Dumbledore pulled the top of his wand from his pocket.

"Can you make sure my parents don't hear about this?" asked Dudley, not allowing fear to take hold of him.

Dumbledore gave him a sad look, but all he said was, "Of course."

Smeltings' headmaster was easy enough to convince with the help of magic. Next, Dudley was told to hold on to the wizard's arm and the world around him dissolved, then reformed in a deserted landscape. He almost threw up and needed to recover before they could go on. Dudley almost began to fear this might have been an elaborate prank when he was told they needed to 'walk towards the castle', but Dumbledore suddenly remembered the wards. He merely waved his hand.

Hogwarts, majestic and mysterious, suddenly appeared in front of Dudley. He had arrived in the magical world.