Harry Potter had apparently fallen asleep ten feet away from a dead body. A dead professor. To be fair, there was fire in the way of leaving the Place of the Incident with the Mirror and The Unqualified (Possessed) Teacher. Harry'd tried to put it out, but it hadn't worked.

He frankly considered it a miracle that he was waking up in the Hospital Wing, and wasn't being tried for murder.

"What- what happened?" Harry Potter tried, knowing that confusion was generally an appropriate response to being in the hospital wing. He didn't even think he was injured, for god's sake!

"We were hoping you could tell us that," Albus Dumbledore said gently. "Professor McGonagall fetched me personally from an important meeting of the International Conclave of Wizards."

Harry hung his head, "I'm sorry you had to leave your meeting."

Albus Dumbledore smiled, "Nonsense, any excuse to leave a quarrel is a good one in my book, and we weren't going to resolve it yesterday, under any circumstances." Harry was never quite sure when Dumbledore was lying, and so he studied him for a minute.

"I was right," Harry said, sitting up. "Quirrel was trying to steal the stone."

"The stone?" Snape's soft voice queried, from behind Harry's head. Harry was briefly distracted by wondering if Snape did that on purpose. It was a good trick, at any rate.

"The Philosopher's Stone..." Harry said, letting his voice trail off, not because he was indecisive, but because he wanted someone else to say something.

Snape's cats-paw voice rode in on a pale horse*, "And what would you know of that, and why? What possible reason does a first year Gryffindor have for such research? A class assignment perhaps?" Harry knew that Snape knew there was no such assignment.

"Not for class, that's for sure." Harry said solemnly. "Hagrid-"

Snape cut him off with a snort, and a snide "Spilled the beans again?"

Harry shook his head, "Otherwise... we wouldn't have been able to get past Fluffy..." Harry's brow creased, "But, sir- why didn't he tell you?"

Snape snickered out a laugh, and even smirked, "He did. I can't carry a tune in a bucket; however, so it wasn't terribly practical information for me. Alas." Snape's voice rang with a subtle sort of merriment that Harry Potter wasn't used to hearing.

"Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall said sternly, "I hope you've learned the perils of poking your nose into adult matters."

"Yes, ma'am, and I'll see to it that Hermione and Ron learn just as well as I have." Harry smiled brightly, hoping they didn't see the tension lurking below.

"Before you repent, Harry," Dumbledor esaid, in a warm voice, "We would really appreciate a report. Miss Granger was kind enough to tell Professor McGonagall, so you can assume we know up until you entered the final room."

Harry told the story quickly, carefully leaving off falling in such a way that he'd hurt his elbow (it had stopped hurting, anyway).

Dumbledore thanked Harry gently, and stood, as if to leave.

Green eyes flashing killing curse green, Harry said, "I've got only one more question, sir. Why did you create a test that even first years could pass without much difficulty?"

[outtake: "I do have some survival sense, ma'am." Harry said, flatly contradicting Minerva McGonagall. "Is that unusual for Gryffindors?"

reviews? Also, you knew that last line was coming, didn't you?]

*this is a reference to a classic depiction of death