Minerva McGonagall sat in her recliner by the fire with a generous helping of Firewhisky in a large tumbler. One of her lions had gotten hurt by her creation. When she had initially created the giant chess set, she was told that it was protecting the Sorcerer's stone, and needed to be extremely hard to circumvent, but not to worry because it would be inaccessible to students.

Her thoughts drifted to her other cubs she had let down that day. Poor Harry, still in the hospital wing unconscious, had been forced to face his parent's murderer. Hermione Granger had been forced to watch her friend Ron Weasley cut down by her Chess piece, and that Longbottom boy, who had lain on the floor of the common room, petrified and unable to move for 5 hours until an older student (one of the Weasley twins on the way to the kitchens) had tripped over him and then released the jinx. Had she only listened when the trio had stated their suspicions this could have all been avoided.

She sighed, and took another large swallow of her drink, mulling over how to deal with the issue of the press, who would no doubt be knocking the castle doors down after finding out that a professor had died on school grounds during the school year. Sometimes she really hated being in charge.

She sighed again 'I really must stop sighing' and got up from her chair. She needed to see Poppy. Poppy would know what to do. If she didn't, then at least she'd have a calming draft on hand.

Poppy Pomfrey was sitting on the bed still holding a sleeping Harry Potter, who had finally quieted and drifted to sleep. She sat thinking, trying to piece together the facts that she knew about the "boy-savior". Why had he flinched when she called him Boy? Why was he still the smallest of his classmates? Why did he wear glasses? His father hadn't worn glasses until he was a 6th year, and even then they were a very low level prescription. His mother's eyesight had been perfect, yet Harry squinted at things when he thought no one was watching him. Then there were his hands, one of which she was still holding. They were strong, yet calloused in a way that was definitely not from a Quidditch broomstick or holding a quill. Much to calloused for a child's hands.

Frowning slightly, she shifted and drew her wand from her arm holster. Not many professors bothered with wand holsters, but being a mediwitch for a school of magical hormonal children, she had learned from several emergencies the importance of being prepared at a moments notice. She quietly muttered several diagnostic spells, and sighed in relief as it appeared that Harry's magical core was recovering quickly. Then she frowned again as she read the state of his body. The boy was malnourished. Not to an alarming extent, he had been eating the Hogwarts food for a year, but enough that it showed up on her scans as problematic.

Frowning even more, she started waving her wand in the beginnings of another diagnostic spell when she felt the wards on the hospital doors activate, alerting her to the presence of another teacher. She sent a glowing bear patronus out to greet the guest and inform them to please refrain from creating any unnecessary noise on their way in.

Minerva's tired face appeared around the edge of the privacy barrier, and immediately softened at seeing Poppy holding a sleeping Harry Potter. She approached the bed quietly, and making sure Harry was definitely asleep, gave her love a quick peck on the temple.

"How is he, Poppy?" Minerva asked, looking down at the young wizard.

"Not well, Love. Did Albus tell you everything that has happened?"

"No, only the essentials, he said he would fill me in once he finished clearing up the corridor and was done with the ministry. He did mention that we would need substitutes for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the rest of the year, but nothing more than that."

"So he didn't mention that young Mr. Potter was forced to stop Quirrel" She spat the name "from getting the Sorcerer's stone, and that Quirrel is no longer with us?"

Minerva paled suddenly, realizing the implications of Poppy's unspoken words.

"No, Quirrel wouldn't hav-No, he didn't mention that. Oh sweet Merlin, the poor dear, Poppy, did he say anything? Is he-"

"I overheard him and the headmaster talking. It appears that Quirrel was unable to touch Harry without severe blistering of the skin, and Harry used this to his advantage, grabbing the monster's face, causing enough swelling to cause asphyxiation, and draining Harry's core drastically. Harry was sobbing when he told me, he didn't mean to kill him, but he doesn't know how to handle this. He's ELEVEN, he should never have been able to get down there in the first place! What of the protections? How in Merlin's name did those three get past the dog? And why am I noticing so much about this boy that raises flags?"

Minerva sat down hard on the chair next to the bed, staring at the sleeping boy curled up next to the mediwitch. Now that she took a long hard look at him, he did seem small. His brilliant green eyes were closed, making him appear even more young than he really was, and Minerva frowned. Were the glasses that hung askew off his face always that beat up and broken? She pulled out her wand, and cast a reparo on them, hoping to bend the frames back to perfection for the boy but the glasses hardly reacted to the magic at all. How long had he been fixing the frames? 'Wait' she thought, 'Harry usually didn't try to read off the board in my class, he would just ask Ms. Granger. How old are these?'

"Poppy, can you check him over again for me? A more in-depth scan if you can. I have some questions, but we may as well make sure everything else is as it should be. As his head of house, I should have insisted on a diagnostic evaluation as soon as he arrived here after being left with those horrid muggles. Now that he is recovering here, we should make his recovery as smooth as possible. We can talk to St. Mungo's and try to find a therapist that deals with children, this latest escapade of his must be weighing heavily on his mind."

Poppy nodded, and waved her wand in a beautiful movement, causing a great many colored lights to appear in the air at certain intervals. After watching the display for a good 5 minutes, her expression darkened and she hugged the boy tighter to her side in a manner reminiscent of a protective mother bear.

"Minnie, I want to take him to the Goblin healers for a full diagnostic scan of his magic and past injuries. I don't want a word of any of this to get out, and the goblins do not sell their patient secrecy oaths to the press. These readings don't make sense, he can't have- I don't believe he could-, the test is reading his magic but it is reading it as two people."