"Harry?" The voice said.

Harry groaned, and shifted on his unusually cold and hard bed.

"Harry?" The voice said again, more insistently this time.

Harry sighed internally. Getting up was the lesser of two evils compared to suffering the wrath of the Dursleys. But…his bed, despite its almost stonelike texture, was so very, very comfortable. Strangely so. He felt an insistent tugging on his arm. It was…tender, a far cry from the usual ham-handed roughness of Uncle Vernon or Dudley. It was more similar to Petunia's spidery grasp, but somehow.. softer. He might have compared it to a mother's touch, had he known what that felt like.

"Harry!"

"Coming Petunia." He mumbled, his hand already outstretched and searching for the glasses on his bedside table.

"Harry, if you can hear us, please wake up. Please."

Please? Please was not a word in the Dursley Dictionary, and in fact took proud place next to "sorry" and "well done Harry" in phrases never to be uttered under their roof.

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes.

"Harry!" Hermione and Ron cried in unison as they looked down at his prone form.

Immediately, Harry felt a sharp pain behind his eyes.

"No noise, please." He said quietly as he fumbled his way onto his belly. "My head is killing me and I feel like I've just run a marathon."

Ron looked at him quizzically at that, whilst Hermione just nodded understandingly.

"It's your core, you clearly over-"

"I bloody well know what it was. C'mon, lets just get this over with." Harry snapped, his ill temper already starting to take hold. If there was one thing he did not need whilst suffering the equivalent of a magical hangover, it was a Hermione Granger lecture. "Ron, help me up."

Ron looked at him strangely, and glanced up at Hermione's crestfallen face for a moment. Then, almost reluctantly, he offered his hand down to his friend.

Harry took it gratefully, and catapulted up off the hard surface. In the middle of the room he could see the broom, floating gracefully in midair. Above it flew a hundred different winged keys. One of them, of course, would have a slightly bent wing, which would indicate that it unlocked the foreboding door on the other side of the room. He stood there for a few moments, scanning the roof as his compatriots exchanged nervous glances behind him.

"Harry?" Ron finally ventured, after the silence become unbearable for him. "You, er, alright mate?"

"I'm fine." Came the curt reply.

"Its just that, well…you're not acting-"

"There!"

"What?" Hermione and Ron said in unison.

"There! See that key, the one with the bent wing? Its flying irregularly. That's the one we need."

Ron and Hermione stared at each other for a moment, both equally confused. Then, Hermione's face began to light up.

"You mean that's the key we need to unlock the door!"

"Of course that's what I mean."

Ron gestured to the appropriately placed broom. "I s'pose you're meant to use the broomstick? I dunno how they expect us to catch it though."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well of course they don't expect us to catch it, this was clearly designed to waste time for any would-be intruder by forcing them to fly around trying to catch some tiny little key. If it was designed to test some first year's flying prowess, then you could just cast, say…" Harry took his wand out to drive the point home. "Accio Key, and then…" Harry trailed off midsentence. The "true" key, which had a second ago been flying with the rest of its flock, had stopped. And to make things worse, the spell seemed to have had the strange side effect of making it larger.

Oh.

Harry dived to the right as the key cut through the air where he had just been standing. It flew between Hermione and Ron, and clattered onto the floor in a shower of sparks.

"And then it would come right towards us." Harry finished, his eyes wide with shock and alarm.

"Blimey. Harry, was that sposed to happen?" Ron said, staring blankly at the space where a deadly projectile had nearly skewered him.

"No… no it was not." Harry said, still staring at where the key had come to rest.

"Harry," Hermione began, in that tone that suggested she was trying to work her way through a logic puzzle. "That key should have been enchanted against Charms, especially something as simple as an Accio."

"Maybe…maybe they just forgot?" Ron suggested weakly.

"I'm sure the teachers wouldn't just 'forget' to enchant the most important item in the room, Ron." Hermione reproved, her faith in teachers clearly stronger than her faith in Ron's logical capabilities.

"Well…maybe its enchanted so it detects evil! It knew Harry was good, and so it went to him! Right, Harry?" Ron suggested in a rare show of intelligence as he looked to his friend for support.

"Maybe…maybe." Harry mumbled, mostly to himself as he absorbed this strange piece of information that did not at all compute. "In any case, it doesn't matter now. Let's get going."

With that, Harry walked over to the key as its wings desperately fluttered against the cold stone floor. Behind him, Ron and Hermione shifted nervously, unsure whether to follow or to keep watch for any other rogue keys that were flying about.

"C'mon. Let's go, there's still a Dark Lord to delay or defeat, in case you've forgotten."

"This has got to be a trap."

"A fact I'm quite aware of, Ron."

"I mean really, they couldn't just have left a random room all empty like this."

"Ron does have a point, Harry. They wouldn't have just left a room free. Not without a good reason, at any rate."

Harry rubbed his temples strenuously, hoping that in doing so he'd start to alleviate the pounding headache behind his eyes. No such luck. His head remained in pain and the seemingly empty room remained as inscrutable as it had been thirty seconds ago. In his head, he tried to work out which was more likely. Ron Weasley being correct, or the Hogwarts staff forgetting to trap the seemingly empty room. If he was being honest, neither seemed like something even the most outrageous gambler would put stakes on. Thinking back, he tried to remember what had been here the first time he'd run this particular gauntlet.

First it had been the Cerberus, which Draco had cleverly put to sleep with his voice backed up by a two part harmony from Crabbe and Goyle.

Then the snare, which Blaise had incendio'd into submission.

Then the keys, which Harry had managed to snag after what seemed like an eternity of flying between sharp winged objects

Then there'd been…

"A troll!" Harry exclaimed dramatically, startling Ron and Hermione, each of whom began to look at him like he'd gone insane.

"A...what?" Hermione questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her concern for his wellbeing.

Ron had no such compulsions. "No, Harry, mate. We beat the troll, we're trying to-"

"I know what we're trying to bloody do." Harry snapped angrily. "I meant there's meant to be a troll here."

Ron contemplated the room for a moment. Whilst spacious, it was well lit, and there were few, if any, nooks or crannies for something as big, dumb, and odorous as a troll to hide. "Well…there's nothing here now, I reckon. Do you think Quirrell let it out?"

Harry almost dismissed the point out of hand. Most things that came out of Ron Weasleys mouth were, in his not-so-humble opinion, either inane, amusing, food-related, or some combination of the three. Of course, there had once been a fourth option, a Lord-VoldeHarry insult, but given the changed circumstances of their relationship, it seemed…unlikely he'd have to navigate that particular brand of unpleasantness again.

But in this case, Ron had a genuinely good point. An occurrence which Harry noted seemed to be much more common than he remembered it being the first time around. Perhaps the troll had not come from outside the school, as Harry had originally presumed. Perhaps it had actually come from inside the school, courtesy of one Quirinius Quirrell. And if it did come from inside the school…

"It's empty." Harry said with relief.

"But how can you be so sure? I doubt if the teachers had laid traps in here they'd make it obvious. Besides, how do you know there's supposed to be a troll in here?"

"I'll tell you later." Harry said, with precisely zero intent of following up on that statement. "But I'm quite certain that the room's empty. C'mon, we don't have any more time to waste!"

With that, he took off at a sprint, his footsteps echoing on the flagstone walls. The most difficult challenges were yet to come. A moment later, Ron followed. Harry was almost at the door when…

"No."

Harry froze, his hand comically stuck in midair reaching for the door. Incredulously, he slowly turned on his heel. Looking past a similarly stunned Ron, he saw Hermione, her arms folded severely, standing in the middle of the room.

"I'm not going. And you two shouldn't be either."

Ron looked at Harry, his mouth open in a gesture of surprise. Clearly, it was beyond his admittedly limited intellectual abilities as to why somebody wouldn't follow the Boy-Who-Lived into yet another life-threatening challenge, a feat to be shortly followed by probable combat with a Dark Wizard.

"Hermione, I'd love to sit here and discuss this with you all day, but in case you haven't noticed, there's an evil wizard planning to steal one of the few things that could bring the Dark Lord back to life. So, perhaps we should argue about this-"

"No!" Hermione stamped her foot huffily on the ground, her eyes blazing angrily. "Why on Earth would Professor Quirrell try to steal this…Philosopher's Stone? He's a teacher! What could he possibly have to gain?"

"I wonder, Hermione, what a single wizard could have to gain for giving the single most dangerous dark wizard this side of Grindelwald his life back?"

Hermione hesitated for a second, seeing the logic of his argument. But the fire in her eyes would not let her be so easily convinced.

"Well…fine, let's assume I agree with you. We're first years! It's not as if there's anything we could do to stop him. I know you might be able to do something, but what could Ron or I do? He nearly died, Harry. Ron nearly died." Hermione sniffled at that one, as her chest began to heave with emotion. "and..and you blacked out, and now.." Her eyes welled up with tears, and she motioned helplessly towards the door that led to the Chess challenge.

Harry hesitated. She had a point. He wanted Ron for the chess match. Hell, he needed Ron for the chess match. But was it really worth risking his life for it? What if he just turned around, right now, and waited for the teachers to come and sort it out? Quirrell and his parasitic friend surely couldn't escape. And they had to fight their way out, they'd have to fight against the greatest wizard of the age, some of his chief lieutenants, and the boy who lived.

"and…and.." Hermione sobbed for a moment. "I don't want to lose my friends." She said quietly, almost to herself. Then, she promptly burst into tears.

Harry very nearly succumbed. He was so close to going over to the sobbing girl, wrapping his arms around her, and abandoning the whole, foolish adventure. Was it really worth risking his life, and the lives of his…

The lives of others, just so he could do the same thing he had done in his own timeline? Was it really worth fighting and scraping and battling just so Quirrell couldn't get his hands on some stupid stone that might not even work in bringing the Dark Lord back to life?

But those eyes, staring up at him. They still haunted up at him, staring into his soul.

There was already enough death on his conscience.

Voldemort and Quirrell, if they succeeded, would fight to their last breath against the Hogwarts faculty. There would be casualties. And there was no telling if the great battle of the age would spill over into the school itself.

He couldn't let them win.

He couldn't add another notch to the tally of the dead he'd failed.

With that, he came to a decision.

"Ron. I'm sorry I brought you so far. I should have left you with Neville. I want you to stay here, with Hermione."

Ron looked at him, his freckles becoming more prominent by the second as the blood drained from his face. "Harry…you can't be serious. I've got to come with you. What if you need me? No, I'm staying with you." He set his jaw firmly, attempting to look determined."

"Ron…you've already been hurt. You could have died. And we're not even close to being done. If you come with me, you will almost certainly die. I'm sure of it." He lied. "You have to stay here. Wait with Hermione. Explain to the teachers what happened."

Ron looked at him, his skin pallid and pale, and his eyes filled with fear. "No. I'm coming with you."

"No, Ron, seriously, I can do this, I-"

"I don't care. Friends don't let friends walk into danger alone." Ron swallowed nervously. "that's what being a friend means. That's what makes us different from Malfoy, and the Slytherins. If you don't want me with you, you're going to have to force me not to."

Staring into his friend's eyes, Harry idly reached for his wand.