In the last chapter: Hermione becomes a more expected part of the group. Harry employs his plan to free Sirius, and ends up meeting an undercover Death Eater named Phil along the way. Harry has a heart-warming reunion with his Godfather and vows to get him out of prison.

Term started up all too quickly for everyone else, but for Harry, it couldn't come soon enough. When the students who went home finally came back, Harry had felt a vibrating anxiousness in his bones. When he first spotted Anthony, it was only a matter of seconds before he was practically tackled with a fierce hug from the taller boy. Draco been a little gentler ("pureblood proper" as Anthony had amusingly dubbed), but no less enthusiastic. Hermione had just grinned and bumped shoulders with him.

With all of his friends back, the term kicked off with bright start. Nothing had really changed from before break, except that Harry was perhaps a little more engaged in his studies, Michael came back from break with a renewed burning behind the plate of his breast bone to try his best to make Harry miserable, and Harry was eager for updates on his guardian situation. A week after visiting Sirius, Harry was summoned to Gringotts to file the appropriate paperwork on Sirius' and his own behalf. When Harry explained the situation to the goblins, they seemed all too eager to rip open a case that would be a pain in the sides of many high powered wizards.

Near the end of February, though, it became clear that there was no possible way for everything to be cleared up and settled before summer began. It put a huge damper on Harry's mood, but he didn't let it show to his friends. The thought of having to return to his relative's house after he told them he'd never be coming back was, frankly, frightening. There's no telling how violently they'd react to his return. Knowing that things could become quite bad, Harry requested a meeting with Dumbledore a few weeks into March.

Dumbledore smiled at him in a kind, grandfather-y way when he sat down in the overstuffed leather chair on the other side of the desk. Dumbledore offered him some tea and candy, but he politely declined.

"My dear boy, how you've flourished over this last year! I must say, your parents would be so proud, as am I." Dumbledore exulted as he leaned back in his chair and stroked the length of his snowy white beard.

"Thank you Professor, that is very kind of you. I'm afraid that's not why I'm here, though." Harry adopted a more serious tone, though he kept it on the lighter side.

"Oh? Of course, of course. Please then, tell me why you've come." Dumbledore sat up a little straighter and folded his hands over one another on top of his desk.

"It's about my living arrangements for the summer. My relatives, you see, are not fond of magic—they hate it, in fact—and I simply do not feel safe returning to them." Harry rushed out, wanting to get the uncomfortable conversation over with. "I know that you think it best for me to be protected by such powerful wards, but if Voldemort is gone, then I don't see the reason behind needing such excessive measures." Harry knew that Voldemort wasn't gone, not with multiple Horcruxes tethering him to the world of the living. But Dumbledore didn't know that he knew.

Dumbledore sighed. "Actually, Harry, I have reason to believe that he is not quite gone. I believe he is out there somewhere, too weak and too tired to return just yet."

"Then what about Hogwarts? The wards are strong enough to protect me, I can stay here for the summer. Help out to earn my keep." Harry sat on the edge of his chair, feeling slightly more desperate as time went on. Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry that you don't get along with your family, Harry, but that is the best place for you. You are safest behind the blood wards from your mother's sacrifice. I'm sure that whatever issue can be overcome considering the dire situation." Dumbledore commended.

Harry slumped back, realizing that Dumbledore would only ever see his complaints as an over-exaggerating child who didn't like his relatives. Dumbledore would force him back to his relative's for the summer and as his magical guardian, he could!

"While I have you here, there's something I wanted to ask you, Harry." Dumbledore paused for a moment, then seemed to decide on something. "Have you ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone?" Dumbledore asked carefully. Harry frowned a little in confusion, not sure where that came from.

"Sure, I guess. It's in our history books. Something about Nicolas Flamel. He created a substance that turns any metal into gold and can grant someone immortality. They say he and his wife used it to stay young and healthy for centuries. Why do you ask?" Dumbledore looked pleased with how much he knew, but honestly, it was common knowledge for most wizards.

"Yes, well . . . I worked with Nicolas for many years, studying and practicing alchemy. When he passed, the stone was put in my care. For many years I've kept it at Gringotts for safe keeping, but right at the start of the school year, the vault it was kept in was broken into." Harry vaguely remembered reading something about it in the Daily Prophet and thinking that it was ridiculous that someone was able to break into such a place and whoever they are, they had to be quite powerful. Harry nodded for Dumbledore to continue.

"Thankfully, I had Hagrid take it from the vault that same day and bring it here since I feared that someone would go after it. . . I trust you Harry, you're quite smart and mature for your age, so I know that this information won't fall into the wrong hands. The Philosopher's Stone is being kept at Hogwarts in the third floor corridor. There are many dangerous protections placed on the stone to make sure that isn't taken, but I worry that the same person who broke into Gringotts will be coming after the stone." Dumbledore looked troubled and weary.

"Sir, why tell me this?" There was a long pause after Harry asked that.

"I believe that the one who broke into Gringotts was Voldemort." That simple statement nearly knocked the breath right from Harry's lungs. Voldemort . . . is coming here?

Harry wasn't really sure how he felt about that. He'd always been curious about Voldemort. In a way, Voldemort was kind of like Harry's counterpart. Such similar backgrounds, both powerful, owning brother wands, and both immortal in one way or another. Voldemort sort of represented what Harry could have become, had certain circumstances been different. But Voldemort had always just been stories to Harry, sure, a real being far away somewhere, but far enough away to just be stories to Harry.

Harry left his office feeling alone because of his living arrangements and a little overwhelmed because of the knowledge that Voldemort might come here. But his companion was quick to pick up on his churning emotions and started up a distracting conversation with a few quips thrown in about Draco's slicked back hair that made Harry laugh.

As the term continued, Harry noticed the same three Gryffindors spending more and more time together and getting themselves into trouble. Draco often butted heads with the Weasley fellow. Harry could see why, but that didn't mean he condoned it. On more than one occasion, Harry had to remind Draco that it was more trouble than it was worth and that acting like the bigger person would only improve Draco's image. The blonde had been quite accepting after that, especially when Harry also pointed out that the boy would probably get himself in trouble sooner that Draco could purposefully do it.

Harry didn't hold anything against Gryffindors in general, it was just those three that seemed awfully reckless that he didn't quite care for. It also seemed that they were going to stop at nothing to try to find out what's in that corridor. For some reason, they also seemed to be creating an even larger fuss with Severus Snape. At most meals, Ronald Weasley could be spotted sending deadly glares at the potions professor as if he was Voldemort in disguise. Who knows, perhaps Weasley did believe that.

Every day that passed brought Harry closer and closer to summer, and he was both excited and dreading it. The goblins had managed to set up a court date with the Ministry, but the ministry was being especially difficult and claimed that the earliest they could hold a trial was June 25th, fifteen days after school let out. With the help of his companion, Harry gathered information on the situation and together they figured out how they would use it.

Exams came and went with little to no struggle. Harry, Draco, and Hermione had the top scores in their year with Anthony coming in Fifth after Michael. Michael, of course, had been livid about not making first—or even in the top three—and Anthony had just been glad to do so well. Anthony was brilliant, there's no arguing that, but sometimes his mind drifted a bit and he was distracted for long periods of time. If Anthony was completely focused from the start of class till the end, he didn't doubt that Anthony could have easily aced all of his exams without breaking a sweat.

The last night spent in the dorms for the school year, Harry was awoken suddenly by someone calling his name. Sitting up, Harry cast a quick tempus. He hadn't been asleep for more than an hour. Harry rubbed the heels of his palms into his closed eyes, trying to wake himself up a little more.

'What?' Harry mentally snapped, having recognized the voice that had pulled him from sleep.

'Three little lions ventured where they were never supposed to go in search of something they know not of.' Death lilted in an amused tone.

Harry suddenly felt much more awake. Those idiots! They're going to get themselves killed. Harry thought and reached for his wand under his pillow, but Death was already talking again before he could wrap his fingers around the warm handle.

'No need to interfere. They were stumped by the third protective obstacle and the Headmaster caught them. Though it seems that there is another who thought to go after the stone tonight. He wasn't able to take it and was chased off by Dumbledore before he could even really try.'

Voldemort. He's here—was here. But how?

'It seems that professor Quirrell came back from sabbatical with more than just a purple turban and outlandish stories. Voldemort is making his return far more quickly than I had anticipated. At this rate, he will do anything to covet a body of his own and return to power. Cheating me is no simple process, and taking sort-cuts will have dire consequences. But I wonder . . . should we help?' Death asked in a nonchalant tone and Harry nearly swallowed his own tongue.

'Help Voldemort? Why?'

'That man has been running things his way for far too long. It's dull. One can only enjoy death and destruction for so long. I made this deal with you for many reasons, one of them being that I wanted to change things up with Voldemort. I told you before, Tom Riddle had quite different ideals than Voldemort. Tom wanted to change the world, Voldemort wants it to bow at his feet. Defeating Voldemort is impossible now, he will never truly die until he wants to and very specific circumstances are met. The only chance for this world to not fall into another devastating war that would inevitably lead to many more deaths and the fall of the light, is to change Voldemort.

'Follow my guidance, help him, restore his sanity, and I promise that you will gain what your soul most craves.' It sounded like Death had been thinking about this for quite some time, if not from the beginning. Harry was still trying to process the fact that Quirrell was harboring Voldemort the entire school year.

'How?' Harry didn't even know why he was asking, it all seemed too crazy. But was it? A little outlandish and overzealous perhaps, but the idea had merit.

'Under your pillow.' Was all Death said in response. Harry made a confused noise and reached under his pillow. He felt his wand, and . . . something else. Harry wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it out. Harry could barely see in the darkness, but from the weight and feel of it he could tell it was a large stone. Harry sucked in a surprised breath as he realized what lay in his palm.

"The Philosopher's Stone." Harry whispered aloud, too flummoxed to worry about his sleeping roommates. Harry shook his head and blinked in confusion.

'What am I supposed to do with this?' From what Harry knew of the stone, it granted immortality and riches. Harry was already covered for both. He had no personal use for the stone.

'Ah, yes. It seems that you have no use for the stone. Why, then, would someone who has no need to the stone, receive it?' Death asked, sounding all too pleased with himself.

'To give it to someone else? Oh! To Voldemort? But won't that just help him on his path to self-destruction?' Harry felt like he was grasping at straws with this one.

'Not exactly. You see, Voldemort is going to be trying to regenerate his physical form. The stone is a crucial ingredient in not only stabilizing the body once he performs the ritual, but also making sure that his body is completely his own and no dark ritualistic magic lingering from his time before losing his body will interfere in the regeneration process.

'The problem is that even with the stone, it will not return his sanity or restore him to full power. The soul and magical core are so closely interwoven that the more Horcruxes he made and the less soul inside him, the less surface area that his magic would have to hold on to. The tricky part here, is that in order for us to do what needs to be done, we will also need all of Voldemort's Horcruxes. One Horcrux is unobtainable, but just one is fine, if we combine all of the others and then force them back into the main soul during his resurrection, we will have the best chance at success.'

Harry's head spun a little and he continued to stare at the stone in his hand as Death explained.

'So . . . now we're on Voldemort's side?' Even the voice in Harry's head sounded unsure and confused. Death's barking laughter filled Harry's ears and Harry felt a little petulant for wanting to pout. Could you really blame him, though? He was woken up in the middle of the night to plot the resurrection of the man who would undoubtedly try to kill him on sight.

'Of course not, we're on our own side. Neither light nor dark, more of a third party nobody but us knows about. If you'd like to think of it as players on a board game, Voldemort is the lord of the Dark faction, Dumbledore is the lord of the light faction, and you are the lord of a third faction not even on the board, but in league with the game-keeper.'

'And you're the game-keeper, I take it?' Harry dead-panned with an eye roll.

'Absolutely! Now what do you say, Harry? Shall we get this game started?'

'You're enjoying this fartoo much!' Harry hissed half-heartedly and fell back onto his bed with a thump. The last thing Harry heard before slipping into sleep, was the cold rattling laughter of Death.