A/N: After this chapter, I will start work on a few other fics that I want to get on with, so update rate might slow depending on my rate of inspiration

Chapter 6

The History of Magic classroom was quiet, save for the scratching of quills on parchment. Exams had finally arrived, and Harry had realized something, namely that he was completely unprepared for the History of Magic examination. After all, there was no Encyclopedia volume on the topic, and he, like almost all the other students, had completely ignored Professor Binns' lectures.

Of course, the exam was still by far the easiest one, as Professor Binns hadn't changed the exam's contents since he had died, and practically everyone brought or bought some form of answer guide. Soon, the tests were finished and the students were excused, with their exiting the classroom signalling the end of the Hogwarts end-of-term exams.

"Harry! How did you do?" Daphne caught up to him as he headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Same as you." Harry said, flashing the answer guide he had bought for two knuts off a Slytherin second year, causing her to laugh. As the pair entered the great hall, however, they were stopped by Dumbledore, the aged wizard wearing a traveling cloak.

"Excuse me Miss Greengrass, but could I possibly borrow Mr. Potter for a moment?" The headmaster asked, and Daphne nodded, moving away from Harry, who followed the headmaster into a smaller, deserted hallway.

"What do you wish to tell me, Headmaster?" Harry asked.

"I am here to warn you Harry. As the head of the Wizengamot, I have urgent business today to attend to in London that cannot be postponed. Thus, for a few crucial hours, I will not be present at this school, giving Voldemort the opportunity to make his move. I urge you to stay safe and not do anything reckless until I return early tomorrow morning. Do you understand, Harry?" The aged headmaster's expression was solemn as he imparted this information, an expression that Harry matched as he listened, although inside he was smiling.

"I understand, Professor Dumbledore. I will not do anything rash or unplanned, I give you my word." Harry replied.

"That is good to hear, my boy. Now I am sure you are hungry, so why don't you head off to the Great Hall. Dinner should be served soon, after all!" Thus dismissed, Harry turned and left the hallway, leaving the headmaster staring after him with a calculating look on his face. Then, once his pupil turned the corner, Dumbledore disapparated, his status as headmaster giving him free passage through the Hogwarts wards.

"Tonight is the night." Harry said simply as he sat down between Blaise and Daphne in the Great Hall.

"What do you mean?" Tracey asked.

"Dumbledore will be gone for the night, so that is when Voldemort will make his move. What I propose is that we follow him, and take advantage of his clearing out the obstacles in the way." Harry replied, ignoring the slight flinches that occurred at his mention of the Dark Lord's name.

"I am sure you know the answer already Harry, but ARE YOU CRAZY?" Blaise screamed, drawing attention from the rest of the Slytherin table. Then, in a quieter voice, Blaise continued.

"Harry, this is Voldemort we are talking about! We can't possibly fight him!"

"This is not Voldemort, it is merely Quirrel being possessed by his shade. Back in the forest, he admitted to me that he was at a fraction of his power. I think that we can do this." Harry replied, causing Blaise to growl.

"Fine, but if we all die, I am going to haunt you for the rest of eternity!"

"But we won't die now, will we?" Harry smirked as he replied, before drinking his pumpkin juice, grimacing somewhat at the sweet taste.

Blaise simply sighed and shook his head before turining to Tracey, who was sitting on his other side.

"I'm surprised I haven't heard any objections from you, Tracey." Blaise said.

"Oh believe me, Harry is crazy for wanting to attempt this, but we all agreed that we would do this. It would haunt us forever after if we backed out now, after so much preparation." Tracey replied.

"I agree with Tracey." Daphne chipped in, "Backing out now would waste all the time we spent preparing for this. We might all die tonight, but at least we'll die doing something worthwhile."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor, Daph! Are you sure the hat didn't make a mistake?" Tracey laughed.

"Hmph. For your information, I am a true Slytherin." Daphne grumbled.

"So we are all in agreement? We will do this together, tonight. This is the last chance for anyone to back out." Harry declared, and was met with silence from his companions, causing him to smile.

"If there are no objections, let us finish quickly and make our final preparations for tonight." Harry said, before turning to his meal, only to find it mostly gone. Looking around, he saw Daphne with a guilty expression on her face as she sheepishly chewed on some of his chicken.


The next few hours passed by in a blur as Harry and his companions got everything ready, before they entered Harry's dormitory to plan.

"Allright, so everyone is here. Let us begin our planning session." Harry said as Tracey entered the room.

"We know that the first protection in our way is a Cerberus, and we know how to subdue it. I already have had the flute enchanted to be self-playing, so that should not be a problem. The second protection is right under the trap door in the form of a Devil's Snare, which we have already learned about in Herbology. Finally, we know that immediately after the Devil's Snare is a room full of flying keys, and we have to catch the right one with the brooms provided. Once we open the door, we will no longer know what to expect, so be on your guard, all of you." Harry began.

"I am noticing a pattern in the various protections there are, Harry." Daphne spoke first.

"Oh? And that is?" Harry asked.

"Each defense seems to be the specialty of one particular staff member. The Cerberus from Hagrid, the Devil's Snare from Sprout, and the Keys from Flitwick. Presumably, we will have to deal with something related to transfiguration from McGonnagall and something potions related from Snape. I don't know what to expect from Quirrel though, as he was likely ordered to make a defense as well." Daphne said.

"So after the room with the keys, there will be three more protections to bypass, as well as a final defense from Dumbledore." Harry said.

"Alright, we now have a clue as to what the defenses are. Now, the next order of business is the Lions, who as we all know, are also after the stone. One of them is bound to notice that Dumbledore is missing, and them being Gryffindors, they will charge in and try to stop the evil professor Snape from stealing the stone. We cannot have that happen, so one of us needs to stand guard with a way to warn us should they attempt to enter. Any volunteers?" Harry asked. Hesitantly, Blaise raised his hand.

"Very well then, Blaise. You will stand guard outside and deny entry to everyone, unless it is Dumbledore who is trying to get in. Everyone else, no matter who they are, is to be challenged and denied entry. Understand?"

"I've got it, Harry." Blaise replied.

"Good. The rest of us will proceed down the trapdoor and deal with any obstacles we may find. We will also attempt sabotage to prevent anyone from following us. However, we will not make the protections completely impassable to anyone who comes after us."

"Why not?"

"Simple: The teachers might notice if we tamper too much with their defenses and come down in force. As it is, no teacher seems to be aware of the imminent attack on the stone aside from Quirrel and Dumbledore, and possibly Snape. We do not want this knowledge spreading." Harry said.

"Understood." The three other occupants of the room chorused.

"Good. Now, does anyone else have something to add?" Harry asked, and Blaise spoke up.

"If Dumbledore was to come by, and sees me denying entry to another professor, what do I tell him?" Blaise asked.

"Tell him that I ordered you to deny entry to everyone on the grounds that they might be one of Voldemort's servants under the Polyjuice potion. Do not look him in the eye while doing so, Dumbledore might use legilimency on you to confirm the statement." Harry said.

"I got it." Blaise replied.

"Good. Anything else?" When nobody spoke up, Harry stood up.

"Alright. Everyone get under the cloak, we're leaving now. We will head up to Quirrel's room first, to make sure that he has made his move. Then we will proceed to the third floor corridor and begin the operation. Let's do this." Harry said, before donning the invisibility cloak, his partners in crime ducking under the nearly immaterial fabric as well. Then, the quartet exited the room, and headed out.

Soon, they had traversed the silent halls of Hogwarts and reached Quirrel's classroom. The possessed professor was nowhere in sight, meaning that he had made his move already. Thus informed, the four Slytherins made their way down to the third floor corridor, pausing once they reached it.

"Are you clear in what you have to do, Blaise?" Harry asked. The other boy nodded, and got out from under the cloak and unlocking the door with a wave of his wand. Soon, the remaining three Slytherins stood in front of the Cerberus, the three headed dog fast asleep, and on top of the trapdoor as well.

"We have to wake it up, or we can't get past it." Harry said, before his foot brushed against something on the ground. Looking down, he saw that it was a self-playing harp, its music keeping the dog asleep. Without a second thought, Harry stomped on it and broke it, causing the dog to leap up, wide awake, and most importantly, off the trapdoor.

That was when Harry raised the flute to his lips and blew, activating the self-playing enchantment on it and causing the dog to once again fall asleep, this time, the trapdoor was clear.

"Everyone in." Harry said, opening the trapdoor. Daphne leaped down first, while Tracey was hot on her heels. Then, after a few moments had passed, Harry jumped down after them, flute still in hand. As the door closed behind him, the last thing he heard was the dog waking up. Then, after a few seconds of falling, Harry landed on something soft.

"Harry, is that you?" Daphne's voice came up from below.

"It is. I'm coming down." Harry said, feeling the Devil's Snare begin to tighten its hold on him. That was when Harry manipulated his magic and cast a full body bind on himself. The plant relaxed its grip, and Harry slid through the mat of tendrils and hit the floor soon afterward. Removing the bind, he stood up, facing the two girls.

"Alright, let us proceed." The trio walked towards the next protection.


"You cannot pass." Blaise spoke, standing between the door and the four Gryffindor students.

"As if an ickle firstie snake like you could stop us!" One of the red haired twins taunted, drawing his wand. In response, Blaise raised his own wand with one hand, while in his other was a silver dagger from his potions' making kit.

"Drop the knife before you hurt yourself, firstie." The other twin spoke menacingly as he too raised his wand.

"Yeah! You can't hope to win!" The youngest Weasley, Ron, spoke. The boy's wand was raised, and in his other hand he carried another dagger.

"I will repeat myself once. You cannot pass." Blaise outwardly showed no emotion, but inside he felt a twinge of fear. While his opponent's wands were really only capable of temporarily incapacitating him, the dagger in Ron's hand was very much a lethal weapon, and its owner seemed very eager to use it.

"Oh, I think we will." The twins spoke as one.

"Bring it on, Snake! A dark wizard like you can't hope to stand against the light!" Ron said, striking a crude mockery of a duelist's stance. Blaise then looked over at the last member of the group, a Neville Longbottom. The chubby boy was clearly afraid, his knees shaking and wand not even raised.

"You will not make it through this doorway." Blaise spoke, before firing a full body bind at Neville, the boy dropping to the ground, paralyzed.

The Weasley trio returned fire, although their spells bounced off a shield that Blaise had produced. As the shield faded, the Slytherin boy fired two spells simultaneously, one wandlessly, the other with his wand's aid. The wandless spell, a cutting curse, slashed Ron across the cheek, while his second attack, a full body bind, missed its target.

Blaise turned to the Weasley twins and fired again, two more spells flying towards the redheaded twins, who in turn blocked them. Then Blaise found himself slammed against a wall by a furious Ron, who had completely neglected his wand in favor of his dagger. Blaise's own dagger was knocked aside, and his redheaded opponent raised his own weapon and, with an angry roar, plunged the silver dagger into Blaise's chest.

"That's what you get, Snake!" The redhead smiled vindictively as the twins brought Neville out of his full body bind. Blaise didn't hear him though, as he was too busy concentrating through the pain, calling on his magic and preventing the dagger from doing lasting damage. Fortunately, the weapon hadn't hit his heart, although his lung was punctured. The four Gryffindors charged through the door while Blaise sat, collapsed against a wall, his teeth gritted as he worked to keep himself alive. Harry had made it seem so easy, healing self-inflicted injuries in seconds, but Blaise soon found out that healing a wound with his own magic was much less simple than his black haired friend had made it out to be.


As Blaise dueled the Gryffindor quartet above their heads, the Slytherin trio were up on brooms, chasing after a silvery key with a crumpled wing.

"Alright, I've got the key." Tracey called down from atop her broom.

"Good. Rip off its wings and get it down here!" Harry called out as he landed.

"Rip off its wings?" Tracey asked.

"Just do it!" At that, Tracey did as she was told and threw the newly wingless key down. Harry caught it, before opening the door to the next room. Then, he withdrew the key from the lock and, looking around, pushed it under the broom storage rack. That would keep any pursuing students for a while, but should a teacher come through it would not delay them for long, assuming they even needed the key.

The trio walked into the next room, and the door shut itself behind them. Harry heard the click of a lock.

At first it seemed as if the trio had stepped into a battlefield, as in the dim light Harry saw what looked like giant corpses and weapons strewn across the room's floor. Then the light in the room grew brighter, and Harry saw the rubble reassemble itself into giant chess pieces, while a quick glance at the floor told him that he was at the edge of a giant chessboard. A smile grew on Harry's face. Evidently he would have to play his way across.

"I'll take king. Daphne, last time you said you wanted to be queen? Well now's your chance. Tracey, grab a knight. We're playing our way across." Harry ordered, before levitating himself up to the King piece's shoulders. As he landed, he shook his head in an attempt to clear it. That levitation had taken quite a bit out of him. Then, once all the players were on the board, Harry began the game.


"This one doesn't work!" Ron shouted as he tried another key, the golden instrument not even fitting in the lock.

"Maybe the key is supposed to be silver, like the doorknob?" Neville suggested.

"There aren't any silver keys up here!" Fred shouted down from his broom.

"Then maybe it looks like it's been caught before! Do any of the keys look like that? Do any of them have crumpled wings?" Neville shouted up.

"No, none of them do!" George replied.

"Then those dirty snakes must have taken the key with them when they went through!" Ron exclaimed.

"There's still around thirty keys flying around up here! Let's keep trying them out!" Fred called down, snatching another key out of the sky. He deftly de-winged it, and then tossed it down to Ron. The younger Weasley tried it, and once again called out that it didn't work.

The process repeated itself several times, and as the swarm of keys above them thinned out, Neville and Ron began to lose hope. That was when Neville spotted a silver glint coming from below the rack in which they found the brooms.

"I think I found something!" Neville called out, walking over to the rack and reaching underneath it. Then, he pulled out a wingless Silver key.

"Give it here!" Ron said, running over and snatching the key out of Neville's hands. The key fit in the lock, and the door swung open.

"Thanks Nev! You're a lifesaver!" Fred said as he landed. His twin, George, clapped Neville on the back.

"Knew it was a good idea to bring you with us!" George said as he followed his twin into the next room.

"Watch out, those snakes could appear at any moment." Ron cautioned as he left the room, Neville quickly following behind him.

"Alright, we've won. Everyone across." Neville heard the voice of Harry Potter ring out from the other side of the room. The Gryffindors looked on as the three Slytherins crossed the giant chessboard that took up the majority of the room.

"Hurry! We can't let them get across!" Ron shouted, breaking into a sprint, attempting to get at the Slytherins, but as he stepped on the board, the broken chess pieces reassembled themselves, swords already drawn and blocking his way.

"Damn, we have to play our way across!" Ron shouted.

"You're our best Chess player Ron, you're up." Fred said.

"Alright. Fred, George, grab a rook each. Neville, take one knight, I'll take the other." As Ron spoke, he climbed atop a giant stone horse that represented a knight piece.


Harry watched as the four Gryffindors took up their positions.

"Tracey, can you try something out?" Harry asked.

"What is it?" The brown haired girl replied.

"Try and take the Black king. If the board allows you to do so, then your job is to keep them from making their way across." At that, Tracey stood on the square of the black king and, a few moments later, the giant piece slid off the board, causing Harry to sigh at his earlier idiocy.

"Can you play?" Harry asked.

"Pawn to E4!" The voice of Ron called out from across the board.

"Pawn to C5!" Tracey called out, and the black pawn moved. "It works." Tracey called out.

"Good. Keep those lions from getting across." Harry ordered.

"I'll make sure of it." Tracey declared as Ron made his second move.

"Good." At that, Harry turned and proceeded into the next room, Daphne right behind him.

"Are you sure that was wise?" Daphne asked as they proceeded into the next room.

"Tracey is a good player. She doesn't have to win, after all, she simply has to not lose for as long as possible." Harry replied.

"Besides, she took the spot of the king. Even in the case of her loss, she won't be harmed." Harry said as he entered the next room. Immediately, a foul smell assailed his nostrils. Looking around the dark room, Harry saw the body of a troll lying on the ground.

"It's already dead." Harry said after a few moments.

"Good. Let's get out of here, the smell is unbearable." Daphne replied, and the pair soon entered the next room.

After they had entered the dark chamber, flames sprang up on either side of them, one set purple, the other black. Harry saw a small table, seven bottles standing upon it.

"Great, a logic puzzle." Harry muttered as he picked up a slip of paper laying by the potion bottles. He quickly read through it, and then turned to Daphne.

"Two are wine, three are poison, one lets us move forward, and another lets us go back." Harry explained, before walking past the row of bottles. A few moments later, he picked up one bottle, a tiny black vial, and turned to Daphne.

"There's only enough in this for one person to pass through." He spoke.

"Then you drink it. You're the more powerful one, and you've already faced Voldemort once."

"Very well." With those words, Harry turned to the table and, after a few moments thought, swapped the position of the black vial with that of another, medium sized bottle.

"Alright. Take the cloak Daphne, I likely won't be needing it." Harry handed the bundle to her.

"But didn't it save you in the forest?" The blonde asked.

"True, but I am unsure of its capabilities. For all I know that could have been a lucky coincidence." Harry replied.

"No. You take the cloak while I play dead in this room. I'll make it look like I drank some poison and died. The girl lay on the ground and locked her face into an agonized expression.

"Put me under a full body bind. Don't take too long though, or my face could freeze like this!" The girl said, before Harry immobilized her prone form. Then, the boy downed the contents of the black vial and proceeded through the black fire.

He donned the cloak as soon as he made it through the fire, and walked, invisible, down a long and narrow hallway. At the end lay a door. So much for a stealthy approach, Harry thought, and slipped the cloak off before entering the next room. He saw Professor Quirrel standing within, the possessed professor staring at a very familiar mirror.

"Who is it that disturbs me?" The professor hissed, turning to face Harry.

"I am sure you know exactly who I am, Lord Voldemort." Harry spoke casually. The dark lord in front of him simply laughed.

"Well, if it isn't little Potter, the wolf in sheep's clothing lying right under Dumbledore's senile nose. Had you been a naive little Lion, I might have simply ended you where you stand, but as is, you amuse me, Potter." In the light of the room, Harry could make out the extent of the damage Voldemort's shade had done to his host's body. All the man's hair had fallen out, and his skin was dry and cracked in several places. The pale husk's eyes glowed red, however, and the corpse stood straight and proud in front of Harry.

"I amuse you then? How so?" Harry asked.

"What is there about you that is not amusing? It is like watching myself in a mirror, after all! A young black haired boy, born to wizards but raised by muggles and displaying a power and potential far beyond that of his peers, masquerading as a paragon of the light right under the noses of those in charge! Had you been born in a different time, we could have been allies in my conquest of the Wizarding world, but alas, you stand before me now as a reminder of my only failure."

"Then maybe your failure is a sign of changing times, Lord Voldemort. Maybe it means that your time has passed, and that it is now my turn to ascend and attempt to take power." Harry spoke. At that, Voldemort laughed, a cold, cruel hissing sound.

"You speak with the same arrogance that I possessed back during my first year here, Potter. Back then I believed that with magic as my weapon, I could truly accomplish anything, and to an extent I have. After all, you were not the only survivor of the killing curse that night!"

"What do you know of that night anyway? I am sure you know how you survived, but how did I?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"You survived because of your foolish mother's sacrifice. Rather than retreat when her idiot of a husband ordered her, or stand aside when I offered her the chance, she stood against me to the end. I suppose she had done some particularly obscure piece of magic beforehand, which ensured your survival upon death." Voldemort spoke contemplatively.

"I see." Harry replied simply.

"You are not going to fly into a rage because I insulted your family?" The Dark Lord asked after a few moments.

"Why should I? After all, I never knew them. It is as you said, my father died in a pointless attempt to hold you off, while my mother, rather than take me and run, simply accepted her fate and died. Now that I think about it, it reminds me of ants trying to fight against the boot descending upon them, of insignificant insects taking a stand against an unstoppable force rather than do the sensible thing and scurry away into their holes." Harry spoke dismissively. Voldemort stared at him for a few moments before he started laughing again, the sound echoing across the chamber's walls.

"You truly are a mirror image of me, Harry Potter! And the senile old fool up in his tower is too blind to see it! Had we not been mortal enemies, I would have offered you a place at my side!"

"Had you made such an offer, I would have refused." Harry replied.

"Oh? And why is that?" The Dark Lord sounded genuinely curious.

"It's simple. After all, one ambitious lord would never allow himself to be ruled by another." Harry replied, causing Voldemort to fall silent for a few moments. Then, the walking corpse spoke.

"So you consider yourself above me?" Voldemort's voice hissed, as if a blade was being drawn.

"Of course not. I would have needed to defeat you to consider myself so. No, I simply consider myself your future equal and successor. I will succeed where you have failed, Lord Voldemort, and rule over not just Wizarding Britain, but the entire world!" Harry declared in response. As he did so, the image in the mirror behind him changed, the same scene of him on a throne taking form upon the Mirror of Erised.

"I can see why that tattered old hat sorted you into Slytherin, Potter. You certainly have ambition, but do you have the power to back that ambition up?"

"Soon, we will both see, won't we?" Harry asked, looking into the mirror. Voldemort noticed this and spoke again.

"The Mirror of Erised... such a delightful object, don't you agree?"

"Indeed."

"I wonder, what do you see in its depths?" The Dark Lord mused.

"I am sure that you see the same thing as I do, Lord Voldemort." Harry replied.

"If that declaration of yours rang true, then I am sure you do. However, that delightful mirror is also the final obstacle that stands in the way of my prize."

"The Sorceror's Stone?"

"Exactly. When I look in the mirror, I see myself ageless, restored to my former glory for all eternity, but I do not see the stone itself. I see that this is Dumbledore's true protection, unlike the toys in the chambers before."

Harry continued to stare at the mirror as well, his thoughts on the stone. It wasn't like he really needed it, as his vampirism would already grant him a long life, while money was not an issue for him. In short, he didn't even truly need the stone, he simply wanted it for the sake of having it. At that, the older version of him present in the mirror smiled at him and raised a blood red stone, before callously tossing it towards him. At that, the boy felt a heavy weight appear in his pocket. He had gotten the stone.

"Oh? Looks like you have had better luck with the mirror than I have, Potter. Don't bother lying, I can see the stone in your pocket." The Dark Lord spoke, hand reaching into his robes.

"Then it looks like our talk is over, Lord Voldemort." Harry said, raising his own wand.

"Indeed. You consider yourself a lord like myself, don't you?" The Dark Lord spoke.

"I do, and I shall prove it to you." Harry replied.

"Then let us bow, and show which one of us is stronger." The Dark Lord's wand slid down to his side. Harry mirrored the action. Then, the two wizards bowed to each other, and the battle began.


Just as the duel between the two dark wizards began in the bowels of the school, an elderly headmaster ran through the castle's corridors. He arrived at the end of the Third Floor corridor soon enough, and beheld the scene before him. A silver dagger lay on the ground, a wand lying a few feet away. A student whom he recognized as Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin First-year and one of Harry Potter's friends, lay slumped against the wall beside the door, a dagger sticking out of his chest.

"You... cannot pass..." The boy choked out as Dumbledore approached.

"Mr. Zabini? What happened here?" The professor hurried over to the wounded boy's side.

"Professor Dumbledore? Is that you?" The boy called out weakly.

"Harry told me... to guard the door, just in case... some of Voldemort's followers tried to slip through... under polyjuice." The boy said, before coughing.

"Who did this to you?" Dumbledore asked, kneeling down and inspecting the injury. The boy was lucky, the dagger hadn't gone in very deep. The would looked worse than it actually was.

"Ron... He and the Lions tried to get past me... and when I said they couldn't... they attacked." Blaise said, the boy's head leaning down towards the floor.

"Can you get to the Hospital Wing on your own?" Dumbledore asked.

"I can... I just didn't want to disappoint Harry and... leave my post." Blaise gasped out.

"Then consider yourself relieved, Mr. Zabini. Young Mr. Potter is indeed lucky to have such a devoted friend." The headmaster patted the boy on the head before standing up.

"I'll go inside now, and make sure that young Harry survives the night." With those words, the Headmaster walked through the door and into the room with the Cerberus.

As the door closed behind him, Blaise smiled and, with a slight wince, pulled the dagger from his chest. He had already healed most of the wound by the time the headmaster came, and with a sickening squelch, the rest of the would quickly closed up. Standing up, Blaise quickly retrieved his wand and dagger before heading down to the Hospital wing. He had appearances to keep, after all.


Harry dodged out of the way of a black curse that Voldemort sent his way, before firing a pair of yellow curses back at his opponent. His short battle in the forest had shown him that Voldemort could easily defend against Exsanguinators, so Harry had spent the time between then and now diversifying his arsenal. Back in the forest, the Exsanguinator had easily been the most powerful curse he knew, but now he had several more dark curses that he could use with ease. The yellow curses he had sent at Voldemort, for example, were designed to painfully immobilize his opponent by shattering various joints in the man's body.

However, neither curse hit his target, as the Dark Lord dodged out of the way of one, and blocked the other. Harry wasn't so lucky, and seconds later his wand was sent flying out of his hand by a well aimed Disarming charm. Of course, this didn't bother Harry, as he could easily cast without a wand, and proved the point by sending several more curses at his enemy, a sickly yellow Joint Shatterer, and two black curses designed to infest the target with voracious conjured worms. All three missed, splashing against the stone floor.

As Voldemort dodged, he was already preparing another spell, and soon a wall of crackling purple energy was moving towards Harry, the light temporarily blocking his view of Voldemort. Harry leaped out of the way, feeling the force of the spell as it narrowly missed him. He barely spotted the jet of black light flying towards him, and by the time he did it was too late to leap out of the way, and so Harry tried to twist his body out of the way.

Pain shot through his body as the curse hit his hand. The flesh on his hand blackened rapidly, before crumbling off his bones, the effect rapidly spreading up his arm. Gritting his teeth, Harry diverted his magic inward, creating a partition within his body and stopping the effect of the curse before it could spread past his left forearm. However, all that remained of said forearm was a series of exposed bones. Harry barely dodged out of the way as a white jet of light flew towards him, the spell impacting the wall behind him and peppering him with debris.

At that point it was clear to Harry that he couldn't beat Voldemort in a duel of magic alone. The wizard was simply a much better duelist, and even Harry's novel approach to magic couldn't allow him to prevail.

So, Harry decided to use another advantage he possessed, namely his partial vampiric strength. The exposed bones of his left arm flowed together, and soon a long blade of bone sat there in their place. Running towards Voldemort at a speed far faster than what a regular human of his age could manage, he slashed at the Dark Lord's host body with his improvised blade, but his opponent simply leaned back under the strike, while a spell fired at point blank range sent Harry flying backwards. Leaping to his feet, Harry sped towards his opponent once more, sending a pair of joint shattering curses towards Voldemort as he did so, but a silvery shield blocked both spells, and his bone-sword's strike was intercepted by a long, thin spectral blade that now emanated from the tip of Voldemort's wand. A cruel smile now adorned the walking corpse's face, before Harry was once again sent sprawling backwards as Voldemort counterattacked. While Harry's vampirism gave him an increase in strength, it was negated by Voldemort's disregard for his host body's health. After all, by now it was little more than a slowly degrading corpse. Thus Voldemort pushed his body's magically enhanced muscles far beyond their natural limit and sent Harry flying back to impact against the room's wall.

To his credit, Harry only grimaced as he picked himself up off the floor and brought his arm up to block the dark lord's follow-up blow. That sent spikes of pain shooting down his damaged arm, but Harry's guard held. That was when Voldemort retreated, and a second sword appeared in his other hand, this one made of steel, its guard studded with emeralds and a serpent's head on its pommel. The Dark Lord then dismissed the spectral blade emanating from his wand, and in its place appeared a similar looking shield, the mass of silvery energy forming a barrier at the tip of the wand. Harry charged once more, firing several curses at his opponent from his remaining hand, all of which were blocked by the silvery shield.

As he closed, Harry thrusted forward with his arm-turned-sword, and was promptly swatted aside by Voldemort's own blade. As this occurred, Harry raised his hand and attempted to fire a curse into his opponent at point-blank range, just as Voldemort had done to him earlier. However, the dark lord simply leaned back, the scarlet Exsanguinator flying over his head. That was when Harry was sent to the ground by one of Voldemort's own spells. As the dark lord stood over his fallen body, Harry raised his remaining hand and prepared another spell.

Suddenly, every single nerve in his arm burned as he attempted to fire the spell. Something had interfered with his spell, causing a magical backlash throughout his body and making his arm feel as though the Cruciatus had been applied on it all over again.

"Had you been anyone else I would have simply ended you rather than allow this farce of a duel." Voldemort spoke as he placed his foot on Harry's chest, preventing him from rising to his feet.

"However, I decided to humor you 'Lord Potter'. Consider yourself fortunate." The title was spoken mockingly.

"What did you do to me?" Harry asked.

"What I just did to you was a simple binding of your magic, a method that is often used by Aurors to prevent their targets from fighting back. It is quick and simple to cast, and prevents even Wandless magic." Voldemort gloated.

"So how did I do?" Harry asked, trying to stall for time while his mind desperately thought of a way to defeat his opponent.

"I give it an A. An acceptable performance, and far surpassing the capabilities of any of your fellow first years. However, compared to me..." The dark lord gave another laugh.

"Simply pitiful. Any last requests?" At that, Harry thrust upwards with his bladed arm. A flash of light followed, and the blade that had once been Harry's arm bones lay shattered into several pieces, courtesy of one of Voldemort's spells.

"Defiant to the last then? How fitting. Avada Ke-"

'CRACK!' Harry's real attack was fired. As Voldemort was speaking, Harry had discovered the limits of the magical binding that was on him. It had created a barrier that prevented any and all magic from passing through his skin. However, should the magic's effects be kept within his own body, the binding would do nothing.

As Voldemort started uttering the incantation of the Killing Curse, Harry had gathered his magic in his right middle finger, which was now raised to face his opponent. Where Voldemort had seen nothing more than a rude hand gesture, Harry had a weapon. Just as a sickly green light began to coalesce around the tip of Voldemort's wand, Harry's raised finger exploded in a spray of blood as the bones within were shot upwards in a manner akin to a Muggle bullet. The Distal phalanx, the bone at the fingertip, struck Voldemort right between the eyes, while the middle phalanx hit Voldemort in the jaw. Finally, the third bone of his finger, the Proximal phalanx, embedded itself into Voldemort's chest.

The combined impacts sent Voldemort toppling over backwards, while the man's wand fell out of his hand. The partially completed spell at its tip promptly exploded, sending the body flying back towards the wall, the corpse landing several feet short. As pain coursed through Harry's body, he saw Quirrel's body start to rot at an incredible rate. A terrible stench filled the room as the corpse's flesh shriveled and brown and black fluids began to leak from its various orifices. A thick, grey mist bearing a man's face emerged from the rotting body, the wraith soon hovering over Harry. A faint, hissing laugh emanated from the wraith that, only a few moments before, had been about to kill him.

"I acknowledge you, Lord Potter." The wraith laughed, before it streamed upward, passing through the room's ceiling as if it weren't even there.

Pain coursed through Harry's body. His left arm was little more than a stump, while his right middle finger was now a pulpy mass spread around the room. Several of his ribs were broken as well, and his back was covered in bruises from his impacts with the wall and floor. One final source of pain was the lump in his pocket, the Sorceror's stone digging into his skin. Harry reached into his pocket with his one remaining hand and, wincing at the pain, finally beheld the object that had caused him to injure himself to this extent. With a sigh, Harry placed his hand back on the ground, stone still clenched within. He lacked the strength to stand, and his injuries meant that he would likely die soon in this very room. As he closed his eyes, he felt the magical binding covering his body fail. The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness was the magic in his body rushing towards his right hand and the object held within it.


Barely a moment after Harry lost consciousness, the door slammed open, and a furious Headmaster strode into the room. Immediately, the old man beheld the scene before him. He saw the rotten corpse lying near the far wall of the room, as well as the body of Harry Potter, lying on the ground, surrounded by blood and shards of bone. The boy's left arm ended in a stump near the joint, while his right hand was covered in blood, one of its fingers missing. The ruined hand was clutched around a blood red stone, although Dumbledore couldn't tell if the shade was the stone's true color or simply the color of the blood soaking it.

Dumbledore knelt by his student's body, praying that the boy was still alive. He felt for a pulse. It was there, but faint. The boy was dying. That was when the flesh of the boy's mangled finger began to flow like water, slowly expanding over bones that were forming before the headmaster's very eyes. A glance downward told Dumbledore that the same was happening to the boy's other arm. A series of sickening cracks and pops alerted the headmaster of the boy's bones knitting themselves together. Soon the boy would be completely healed, but Dumbledore was at a loss as to how. That was when his eyes found the stone again. Of course! The stone granted eternal life, and eternal life without eternal health was nothing more than sick torture! Did that mean that Harry was now immortal?

No, Dumbledore realized after a few moments' thought. A constant supply of the elixir of life was required for immortality, but then, how was the stone healing Harry? Dumbledore raised the boy's hand, which tightly grasped the stone that had saved his life. A closer inspection revealed that the stone was emitting a faint golden glow, one that slowly faded until nothing but a blood red stone remained.

Raising his wand, Dumbledore quickly performed a series of medical diagnostic charms. While he wasn't nearly as adept at healing injuries as Madame Pomfrey, his experience in the war against Grindlewald and later on, Voldemort, meant that he still had some knowledge of healing. After all, he had needed to heal his own injuries on multiple occasions.

The diagnostics came up after a few moments, and Dumbledore gasped. The boy was completely fine physically, but that was not what shocked the headmaster. No, the shocking part was that one of the charms indicated that Harry was afflicted with an early stage of Vampirism! There was only one way to make sure.

Hesitantly, Dumbledore pried open the boy's mouth, and there they were, faint but visible. Two small fangs were present in the boy's upper jaw, just barely developed, but still present nonetheless.

"Harry, my boy, what happened to you?" Dumbledore murmured as he levitated the boy's unconscious body. Then, with a sigh, he turned and left the room. He met with Daphne Greengrass, whom he had revived once he entered the room with the potions. The girl had clearly been attempting to discourage pursuit by imitating a corpse, and she was quite good at it as well, if a little stiff.

"Is Harry alright?" The blonde haired girl asked hesitantly.

"He is uninjured, but unconscious and exhausted. I will be taking him to the hospital wing, where he will be joining Mr. Zabini." Dumbledore explained.

"Blaise? What happened to him?"

"Unfortunately, several poor, misguided lions assaulted him while he was standing guard. He was well enough to stand when I came by for him though, so I am sure he will be alright."

Dumbledore then continued to walk, passing through the troll room and entering the Chess room, where Tracey still stood defiantly against the four Gryffindors. The girl had technically lost the chess match, but had eliminated all four of the Gryffindors' pieces before it happened, meaning that while their way was clear, the four students were in no shape to continue on.

"What happened?" Tracey asked, turning towards him as he entered the room, and Dumbledore explained.

"What about those four?" Tracey asked once Dumbledore had finished explaining, gesturing towards the four injured Gryffindors.

"They are likely due for a trip to the hospital wing as well. Their punishment shall be decided once they awaken." Dumbledore replied.

"Alright." Tracey walked over to where Harry still floated, staring at the body. Then Dumbledore waved his wand and the four Gryffindors rose into the air as well.

The sun had just started to rise by the time the group reached the hospital wing. The early morning light illuminated a sleeping Blaise, the boy still in his bloodstained robes as he lay on the bed. After laying Harry on the bed beside him, Dumbledore walked over to inspect the boy's injury. Only a scar remained. The boy had likely healed the injury on his own once he arrived in the hospital wing. A bloody silver dagger lay on the table beside him. Dumbledore took a moment to inspect the weapon. It had clearly come from a potions kit, and the initials on it spelled RW, meaning that its owner was none other than Ronald Weasley. Dumbledore sighed in disappointment as he thought of the redhead plunging the dagger into the Slytherin's chest. He was aware of the younger Weasley's burning grudge against Slytherin house, but for it to lead to violence of this caliber...

"Professor?" Daphne's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, Miss Greengrass?" Dumbledore asked.

"May we... May we stay here? At least until one of them wakes up?" Dumbledore smiled at that.

"Of course! It warms my heart to see such devotion among friends in the younger generation."

"Thank you."

"Oh, and please, be sure to notify me once young Mr. Potter there is awake. I must discuss what happened in the chamber with him."

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore." Daphne replied as Dumbledore left the room.


"...'s waking up! Daphne, he's waking up!" Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open, only to squeeze themselves shut moments later as harsh sunlight poured into them. Evidently, he lay directly in a sunbeam, which created the feeling of ants crawling all over his body, courtesy of his vampiric half.

Opening his eyes again, Harry sat up to see Tracey Davis shaking Daphne Greengrass awake, the blonde haired girl having fallen asleep in her chair. She groaned and rubbed her eyes as she was slowly brought back into the waking world.

"How long was I asleep?" Harry asked.

"You've been sleeping for the past day or so. By the time Dumbledore brought you up, it was early in the morning, and you slept through the night afterwards. The girls have only been leaving to grab their meals, the rest of the time they've been in here. It's been driving Pomfrey crazy!" Harry heard Blaise talking over on his left. Looking over, Harry saw Blaise lying in a hospital bed beside him.

"So what happened to you?" Harry asked, wondering why the boy was in the hospital bed.

"Ronnie over there decided to stab me with a potions knife." Harry turned and saw four Gryffindors lying in the beds opposite him. He chuckled at that.

"Well, at least Voldemort didn't strip the flesh from your arm." Harry commented.

"What are you talking about? Your arm's fine!" Harry looked down at that, and to his shock, saw his left arm present and accounted for.

"How..." Harry trailed off as he felt something in his other hand. Opening it, he saw a blood red stone contained within.

"Is that..." Tracey breathed, walking over to his side.

"...the Sorceror's Stone?" Daphne finished, standing beside her.

"It is." Harry replied, smiling.

"You actually managed to get it..." Blaise said, staring at the tiny stone.

"How did you defeat Voldemort?" Daphne asked. "He was there, right?"

"I blew up my finger and sent the bones flying through his skull." Harry replied, causing the blonde haired girl's face to turn a light shade of green.

"Your finger seems fine to me." Tracey commented.

"Yeah, that's very strange. Last time I was conscious, my entire left forearm was gone, same with my right middle finger. Some of my ribs were broken as well, and I had a few puncture wounds in me as well." Harry said.

"Maybe it has something to do with the stone. It is a powerful magical artifact, after all, and maybe you accidentally activated it." Daphne mused.

"Ah, Harry, I am glad to see that you are awake!" The jovial voice of Professor Dumbledore cut through the conversation.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Four voices asked.

"In the flesh. Now, I have several things that I need to discuss in private with young Mr. Potter here, so can you young ladies and gentlemen please excuse yourselves for a moment?" Blaise, Daphne and Tracey sighed, and left the room.

Dumbledore waited for a moment before sitting down at Harry's bedside.

"Such devoted friends you have, my boy. You are very lucky to have them, you know." Dumbledore spoke.

"I know. They're the first friends I've ever really had in the Wizarding World... aside from Arnold, that is." Harry spoke.

"Arnold?"

"An old bookstore owner. He's the one I bought the Encyclopedia from." Harry spoke.

"I see. Now, can you predict what I am about to ask you?" Harry shook his head.

"Well, first I would like to ask you what exactly happened down in that room with Voldemort. I came in barely a few seconds after you lost consciousness, and I simply saw poor Professor Quirrel's rotten corpse and your own body lying on the ground. I need to know what exactly went on down there." '

"Well, I entered under the invisibility cloak, but the door opening alerted Voldemort to my presence, and he blew the cloak off me with some sort of wind based charm. He then insulted my parents, saying that they were foolish for standing against him, before turning to the mirror. He said something about not being able to get the stone from the mirror, and when I looked at it, the stone appeared in my pocket. Voldemort somehow noticed this, and... well, he used some kind of curse on my arm." At that Harry cast his eyes to the ground, shrouding his face in shadow.

"Now, there is no reason to recount all the major details. What happened that killed Professor Quirrel and defeated Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked.

"Professor... I think that Quirrel was already dead before I entered the room..." Harry trailed off.

"It's alright, Harry. So what happened to defeat Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Well... At one point Voldemort grabbed my neck and started choking me, but then his hands started burning. He let go, but his hands kept burning and burning, while his body started rotting away. In the end, a screaming grey wraith came out of his body and flew at me, but disappeared before it could reach me." Harry lied.

"I see. That is all you need to tell me regarding your confrontation with Voldemort." Harry sighed in relief, then the professor spoke up again.

"However, there is one thing about you that remains a cause for concern. You are a Vampire, are you not?" At that, Harry gasped and backed away from the professor.

"Don't worry Harry, you will not be expelled. After all, it is hardly your fault that you were turned."

"I'm... well, I'm not completely a vampire yet. It didn't have its fangs in me for very long..." Harry trailed off.

"Harry, is this perhaps related to what happened to your relatives, the Dursleys?" The professor asked, and Harry leaped at the provided alibi.

"Y-yes..."

"So it was a Vampire that kidnapped you then? How did you escape?"

"I... All I remember was how he was taunting me, saying that I couldn't get away as he reached for me a-and brought his head down to my neck and b-b-bit me... then I just remember a loud noise, and there was blood everywhere and... and..." Harry stopped talking.

"It's alright now Harry. Whoever it was can't hurt you anymore." Dumbledore smiled.

"I know... but still, I k-killed him, whoever it was. I know he was evil, but..."

"It's alright Harry, you don't have to speak of this any more." Dumbledore comforted.

"I... I was hoping the stone would be a cure." Harry said softly.

"May I see the stone?" Harry nodded, and held the red crystal up for the headmaster to inspect. After a few moments, a wry smile appeared on the old man's face.

"My my Nicholas, you always were the clever one." The man said, more to himself than to Harry.

"Sir?" Harry asked.

"It's not the real stone, Harry. That explains how it healed you. It was a powerful artifact nonetheless, but healing you down in that chamber drained all the magic out of it. It is now little more than a particularly odd lump of rock." Dumbledore explained.

"Then if it wasn't the real stone, what was it?" Harry asked, curious.

"Likely one of Flamel's later, unsuccessful attempts at making one. He told me that some of his later attempts at making a stone had powerful abilities of their own, like the one that now lies in your hand. Unfortunately, while it was not powerful enough to cure a magical disease like Vampirism, it was still capable of healing all your injuries from your battle with Voldemort before it was drained."

"Then... Professor, if it is now powerless, may I keep the stone?" Harry asked.

"Oh? And why do you want to keep it when it is clearly powerless?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, maybe when I am older, I would like to study it. Even if it didn't cure my... condition, it was still capable of healing me from a near-death state. Just think of what something like this could do in a hospital like St. Mungo's!"

"That is quite a compelling reason, Harry, but I sense another as well."

"Yes... I want to keep it as a reminder to never give up. It saved me when I was on the brink of death, but had I given up and stopped trying to live, then maybe I wouldn't be here talking to you..." Harry trailed off.

"Very well then, Harry. I hope that the stone brings you luck, even in its powerless form. However, the stone is not mine to give. You may keep it for now, but I will inform Nicholas Flamel of this development, and it is well within his rights to demand the stone back from you. Should he ever ask for it back, then you must return it, lest you risk the wrath of the Flamels, and let me tell you, while Nicholas seemed a distant but kindly man when I met him, he easily eclipses me in terms of magical might. After all, he has had centuries to hone his skills."

"I will remember, Professor."

"Good. Now, can you stand?" Harry tried to do so, and soon found himself walking on shaky legs.

"Excellent. Now hurry back to your dormitory and change into some clean robes. I am sure your friends are waiting for you there!" Harry nodded his thanks before walking out of the room. As he neared the entrance, Dumbledore spoke one last time.

"Oh, Harry? I shall tell no-one of your vampirism. That is your secret to share." Harry smiled at that, before he left the room, while Dumbledore lingered for a few moments before making his exit as well.

Once the professor had left, one of the red haired bodies on the hospital beds twitched. On it, a very much awake Ron Weasley lay with his eyes wide in shock. Harry Potter was a Vampire! He had to warn his friends before that monster decided to turn them into its next meal!


A/N: And that's a wrap! First year is now pretty much over, and the next chapter will primarily be focused on Harry's summer. I have special plans involving everyone's favorite immortal alchemist as well, and it will NOT be the usual 'Nicholas trains Harry over the summer to make him Sueper Powerful!' type of approach that seems all too common among HP fics.

Any questions, comments, or concerns may be expressed in reviews. I usually reply to those types of reviews, so if you have anything regarding this story that needs to be cleared up, have noticed some glaring flaw/inconsistency, or just want to discuss this fic, be sure to leave a review and I have a pretty good chance of reading it and responding.