ALBUS

Dear Albus,

Many thanks for your letter, which I read, as always, with great interest. Your concerns surrounding the Stone I have taken very seriously. I agree that the vaults at Gringotts are not flawless: I have witnessed several reports of successful break-ins over my lifetime. If you believe the Stone to be in danger (and I wholeheartedly trust your judgement on this) then I am certainly willing to sanction its transfer to Hogwarts, where I can rest assured it shall be given the utmost protection by yourself and your wonderful colleagues.

I must say, in my many, many years of exploring ancient magic, never before have I heard of anything quite as intriguing or unique as this Mirror of Erised you speak of. I always seem to learn something new whenever you write to me – So much for the old teaching the young! I'd be fascinated to know how you intend to conceal the Stone within the Mirror. Perenelle and I had a long discussion last night, pondering what we would see if given the chance to look in the Mirror. Each other, we decided. Each other, and perhaps an eternal supply of Chocolate Frogs (my next alchemical project, perhaps?). Anyway, I digress.

I shall leave the removal of the Stone in your more than capable hands, and let us hope no one is foolish enough to test your defences. And remember, Albus, if ever you find yourself in the West Country, you are always welcome to –

There was a knock on the office door and Dumbledore looked up. It was a glorious, quiet summer's morning. Shafts of warm sunlight streamed in through the windows, and the many professors on the walls were snoozing lazily in their frames.

'Come in,' answered Dumbledore, folding away Nicholas Flamel's letter. 'Ah, good morning, Professor.'

'Good morning,' replied Minerva McGonagall stiffly, snapping the door shut behind her.

'You seem troubled,' Dumbledore remarked, peering over his half-moon spectacles. 'All the letters delivered? No hitches?'

'Yes, as a matter of fact,' snapped McGonagall. 'One. I think you knew there would be, Albus.'

'Ah,' said Dumbledore, bowing his head. 'Harry.'

'Naturally. The boy is still yet to find out he's a wizard. The Muggles snatched the letter and destroyed it before he had the chance to read it.'

'Hm.'

'Did you happen to read the address on his letter?' asked McGonagall impatiently. It was clear she was frustrated that Dumbledore wasn't displaying as much outrage as she felt. She drew out a letter from her robe pocket and thrust it before the Headmaster.

'I did not,' murmured Dumbledore, taking it.

'"Mr H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs",' recited McGonagall, hands on hips, nostrils flaring. 'He's living in a cupboard, Albus! I've told you before, these people are simply inhumane, he'd be better off raised by werewolves – Honestly, Albus, you keep saying how important this boy is, yet you allow him to be subjected to this awful excuse for an upbringing!'

'Minerva,' said Dumbledore sternly, and McGonagall fell silent at once, though she continued to breath heavily through her nose. 'I knew as well as you did on that Hallowe'en night that we were condemning Harry to a difficult childhood. Arabella has kept an eye on him and she has seen no reason to interfere, no matter how poorly you think Harry has been treated. The Dursleys' behaviour towards their nephew is borne of fear, not hatred. That fear will have intensified this morning when they realised all their efforts to quash the magic from Harry have been futile.'

'That's all very well,' said McGonagall with forced calm. 'But how do you plan on getting the boy to Hogwarts?'

'As to that, I think we'll have to send a few more letters,' said Dumbledore. With that, he set Harry's Hogwarts letter on the desk, tapped it with his wand and muttered, 'Gemino.'

Next moment, no less than a hundred identical Hogwarts letters stacked neatly between the two professors.

McGonagall stared.

'You can't be serious.'

'Oh, I can. On occasion,' said Dumbledore, smiling up at her. 'If the Dursleys wish to be a nuisance, then it is our prerogative to be nuisances back. I shall get Hagrid to make sure these reach their intended recipient. If you could fetch him for me, please, Minerva.'

'Very well.'

'Oh, Minerva, one more thing,' said Dumbledore, and McGonagall paused with her hand on the office door. 'Mr Flamel has wisely agreed to transfer his Stone from Gringotts to here –'

'His Stone – you mean the Philosopher's Stone?' asked McGonagall, her eyebrows shooting upwards.

'Correct. If I could ask yourself and the other Heads of House to devise layers of protection for the Stone, I would greatly appreciate it. Oh, and we ought to throw Hagrid and Professor Quirrell into the mix, too. I think the chambers leading from the third floor corridor will suffice. I shall task Hagrid with removing the Stone once he has first removed our Harry from the clutches of his aunt and uncle. Good day, Professor.'

'Good day.'

Once the door had closed behind McGonagall, Dumbledore read the end of Flamel's letter, smiled, and got to his feet. Upon passing one of his silver instruments, he was struck by an idea. Remembering what he had written to Nicholas regarding the Stone's safety, he gently prodded the instrument with his wand. He had not referred to Voldemort by name in the letter, but a man of Nicholas's intelligence would almost certainly have read between the lines.

'Do you really believe Hagrid to be the wisest option for procuring the Stone, Headmaster?' asked Phineas Nigellus's portrait.

'What do you mean, Phineas?' murmured Dumbledore. His concentration was channeled towards the instrument, which began issuing a trail of smoke.

'Well – Should something as secretive and important as this rest on the responsibility of a giant? Why not enter Gringotts yourself?'

'A Headmaster is supposed to delegate,' answered another portrait, that of Brutus Scrimgeour, without opening his eyes. He was a plump man with a handlebar moustache and spent most of his days snoozing. 'I entrusted countless assignments to my staff during my years in this office.'

'Yes, well, only because you were too lazy to do them yourself,' spat Phineas.

'Thank you, Phineas,' said Dumbledore firmly, eyes still fixed on the instrument. The smoke had taken the form of a human head. 'Hagrid is not a giant, he is a half-giant – and I trust him with my life.'

Ignoring Phineas's snort of derision, Dumbledore peered closer at the instrument to find that the head actually comprised of two faces, back to back. He frowned slightly, unable to infer much meaning from this.

For a second time, the door burst open and in walked the enormous, wild figure of Hagrid.

'Ah, Hagrid,' smiled Dumbledore, and the smoke vanished instantly. 'Thank you for coming.'

'Of course, Professor Dumbledore, sir. Can I help you?'

'You can,' said Dumbledore, returning to his desk. 'There was a little hiccough today with regard to Harry's acceptance letter –'

'Harry – Harry Potter, you mean, sir?'

'Indeed. Unfortunately, his letter went astray, so I was rather hoping you would be able to try again.'

'Of course, Professor,' said Hagrid eagerly. His beetle-black eyes fell on the desk. 'Tha's a lot o' letters, sir.'

'Quite. It is rather important that Harry receives one, you see. This does mean you have my permission to use, er, any means necessary,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

Hagrid's eyes widened in sudden excitement.

'You mean … I can use magic?'

Dumbledore inclined his head.

'I'll take the job, Professor,' said Hagrid, and immediately began shovelling the letters into the many enormous pockets of his moleskin coat.

Dumbledore chuckled.

'Now, if Harry has still not read his letter by the deadline, you will have no choice but to deliver it in person. If it comes to this, and I am inclined to think it might, I should like you afterwards to take Harry into Diagon Alley and help him purchase his school supplies. Let us give him an eleventh birthday to remember, shall we?'

'Absolutely, Professor!' said Hagrid delightedly. 'I'll bake him a cake!'

'Excellent idea,' smiled Dumbledore, before taking a letter from his desk drawer. 'Then, while you are in Diagon Alley, I'd like you to complete another task for me. I shall need you to take this to a Gringotts goblin and proceed to enter vault seven hundred and thirteen. Inside you will find a small package containing Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone. I would like you to take it out and bring it directly to me as soon as you've dealt with Harry. Not a word to anyone, Hagrid, that is imperative. We have decided to place it under Hogwarts's protection from now on.'

'Thank you, Professor,' said Hagrid thickly, taking the letter and wiping tears of gratitude from his eyes. 'I won't let you down.'

'I know you won't,' smiled Dumbledore.