It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox. Points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers.

Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. His recurring Nightmares didn't help, not now that they included hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. Harry had already planned to use that week to write to Ginny for the first time.

When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

Harry walked out of his last exam and felt like collapsing on the closest bench. With an over dramatic sigh he dropped his bag and slid on to the bench. "We did it." Harry said confidently as Draco and Pansy sat down next to him. "Its over."

Everyone smiled. A pair of 5th year walked by and snickered at them. "Just wait for your OWLs."

Harry spent the remainder of his afternoon with Hermione crafting a letter to Ginny. They needed it not so sound flirty, but more than friendly. They spent almost an hour agonizing over the details before Harry finally wrote out the good copy and sent it off with a loner owl from Hogwarts. "Best not to terrify her with Balthazar quite yet." Harry said with a smirk

The rest of the day was filled with Celebrating in the Common Room. Eventually the older students who wouldn't have their exams till later the week kicked them out. So, Harry, Draco, Pansy, Theodore, and Blaise found themselves wandering Hogwarts. They spent the full day just goofing off and avoiding staff members.

By the time dinner rolled around Harry was famished. He had played til he was hungry and was now planning on eating til he was tired.

Harry was confused. He stood in the middle of the Great Hall. All the tables and benches had been removed. Even the staff table was gone. He watched in silence. Where he expected to se Dumbledore's podium was the Mirror of Erised. Harry looked around to see if anyone else was there. When he looked back he saw someone on the ground in front of the mirror. It was a man writhing in pain.

It was Quirrell. "Please, no more." He pleaded to Harry. "Please. I'll get it. I'll get you the stone. Dumbledore won't be back until morning. Even if someone notices the Mirror is gone-" But was cut off. Harry now realised that he wasn't pleading with Harry but someone standing in the same place as Harry.

Harry felt himself cast a spell and Quirrell burst into strangled sobs of pain. This continued on and on. There was no end to it. Finally did the caster stop. "Harry Potter?" a voice said as Quirrell looked directly at Harry.

"Help me!" Quirrell shouted

Harry awoke in a start. He was sweating and his scar was throbbing. It didn't hurt but it was making its presence known to Harry. He wasn't sure if what had just happened was real or not. He needed to save Quirrell.

He got dressed and grabbed his invisibility cloak. He had gotten used to sneaking out of the common room and making his way to the library, so a trip to the Great Hall wasn't that much of a stretch.

By the he reached the foyer he found the Great Hall wide open. Light was beaming into the hallway. "We know you're there Potter!" someone shouted from within the Great Hall. Harry cursed under his breath. He removed his invisibility cloak and tucked it under his robes.

As he entered the Great Hall he found that it was exactly like his dream. All the tables and chairs were gone and the mirror was right in front of him. The only differences is that all the candles were lit and instead of cowering on the floor Quirrell was standing in front of the mirror back turned to Harry.

"Come along Potter, we don't have all day." Quirrell barked at him. Harry was so confused not to walk forward.

As Harry approached Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter." Quirrell said as he bent around the mirror, inspecting it from all angle. "Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls. Had you followed me past the Trap Door, you would seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there." Quirrell bragged. "Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."

Halloween night replayed in Harry's head. It was starting to make sense.

"Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror. It was only then that Harry realized what was standing behind Quirrell. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back..."

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. "I saw you and Snape in the forest -" he blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me, as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..."

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

He had an idea. It all depend on how much Quirrell knew about Harry. It was a risk, but one he had to take. "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead. In fact I'd say you've lessened his ire since the year began. He doesn't spend nearly half as much time berating you behind your back anymore. "

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you..."

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions, he is a great wizard and I am weak"

Harry didn't understand. But his mouth got the better of him. "You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me."

Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me..." Quirrell's voice trailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon

Alley -how could he have been so stupid? He'd seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Harry's mind was racing. 'What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he

thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it, which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I'm up to?

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to Harry's horror, a voice answered. It was the same voice from his nightmare. The voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy... Use the boy..."

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes - Potter - come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked toward him. 'I must lie', he thought desperately. 'I must look and lie about what I

see, that's all.'

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again. To his own surprised he didn't see the stone. There was nothing about its hiding place or how he could get it.

All he saw was Ginny Weasley. He had his arm around her as she smiled and looked at him. She was in a Slytherin Uniform. Behind Harry was a furious Ron Weasley. He looked like he was on the brink of tears. Then it dawned on Harry. Turning Ginny to Slytherin had been his goal for most of the school year. It shouldn't be surprising.

"Well?" Quirrell snapped at him. "What do you see?"

Harry smiled. He wouldn't have to lie. "I, I see myself with Ginny Weasley. I've convinced her to join Slytherin House." He turned look at Quirrell who returned his gaze. Quirrell glared deeply into his eyes.

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him... face-to-face..."

Quirrell grimaced as the voice spoke. "Master, you are not strong enough!" he attempted.

"I have strength enough... for this..."

Harry felt as if he was trapped to the spot. He couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter..." it whispered.

Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move. "See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... what did you mean exactly about this Ginny Weasley?"

Harry swallowed. Unable to stop himself Harry was compelled to explain everything he had down and his motivations for preemptively converting Ginny to Slytherin. He couldn't stop himself.

The face on the back of Quirrell's head had an ever present smile. "I must say Harry, I am extremely surprised. That is quite the undertaking for someone of your age. And you have accomplished all that you have. I find myself curious to see if you'll succeed. But not that curious."

Harry seemed to regain his sense. He turned to run away as he saw Quirrell advance on him menacingly. He grabbed Harry on the shoulder and spun him around. Harry attempted to tear Quirrell's hand off him and was utterly shocked when he watched the hand turn to dust and crumbled.

At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might The pain in his head lessened. he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers - they were blistering before his eyes.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet' landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck - Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!" Quirrell screamed holding up what was left of his left hand, his right having completely crumpled

"The Mirror you Fool! The Mirror is what's important!" Voldemort shouted at Quirrell. "Take the Mirror!"

Harry could only watch as Quirrell ran to the mirror and started arching wand in wide, full body circles. Harry watched as all the candles in the Great Hall grew. Each flame was no longer a few inches at best but a few feet. Suddenly all the flames dove at Harry who only managed to jump out of the way in time. The mass of fire then went towards Quirrell and the Mirror. The Fire surrounded him as he seemed to direct it with his wand.

Harry saw Quirrell speaking an enchantment but couldn't hear him over the roaring flames. Finally the fire had completely covered Quirrell and the Mirror.

The last thing Harry remember was running for the Great Hall doors as the mass of fire exploded towards him.

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick"

"Calm yourself, dear boy," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone persay. He is in possession of a most powerful lockbox with the stone inside."

"But Voldemort, He's"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out. Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the Great Hall between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?" Harry asked feeling sore.

"No more than a day. Your numerous friends have been by and each time they had to ushered out by Madam Pomfrey" Dumbledore explained with a knowing smile.

"But sir, the Stone" Harry insisted

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell has managed to escape with the Mirror of Erised, which locked within, is the Sorcerer's Stone." Dumbledore explained

"Its gone?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best, obvious new ownership aside."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?" Harry asked with a certain amount of sadness

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die." Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone is really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all. The trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking... sir - even if the Stone is secure in the mirror, Vol-, I mean, You-Know- Who -"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to do everything he can to get the stone out of the mirror isn't he sir?" Harry was feeling the pit in his stomach clench. Guilt was building in him. "But sir, he's supposed to be, you know, dead. He's isn't anymore?"

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for a way to retrieve the stone without damaging it... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time, and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."

And Harry knew it would be no good to argue. "But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Harry said, "And the invisibility cloak - do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And there's something else..."

"There usually is." Dumbledore said with a smile

"Quirrell said Professor Snape. Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and . And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt... I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to

hating your father's memory in peace..."

Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped. "And sir, there's one more thing..."

"Just the one?"

"How does one get the Stone out of the mirror?" Harry asked feeling a little disappointed that he couldn't retrieve the stone. He had to remind himself that if he had, then Quirrell might have been able to take it from him.

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes... Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

Dumbledore made his way to leave but stopped after a few steps. "Harry, while I do marvel at youth and friendship. I must warn you about claiming encounters with Voldemort." Dumbledore said looking over his spectacles. "There are many that would see you're confronting of the Dark Lord as an insult. Even those you are closest to may not understand your reasoning. I would ask you to mention his involvement with what happened." Dumbledore looked a little said when he asked for Harry's silence.

"I, I won't mention Voldemort, sir." Harry said not fully understanding.

Dumbledore smiled and left.

Over the next two day Harry was visited by all his friends and gave them an heavily edited accounting of what had happened in the great hall. To anyone that asked it was only Quirrell. Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's

winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat between Theodore and Pansy at the Slytherin table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away. "Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; in third Gryffindor, with three hundred and eighty-five twelve points; in second Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry cheered and shouted as everyone celebrated in there own manner. Draco seemed to delight in banging his goblet on the table. Pansy pinched her fingers and whistled. And Theodore and Blaise threw their arms over each other's shoulder and laughed.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little. "Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes… to Mr. Harry Potter..." said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "In light of odds most harrowing and for overwhelming opposition one must never forget that true cunning and bravery are simpler than are given credit for. For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Slytherin house sixty points."

It didn't change their victory in the slightest but the cheers and admiration Harry got from his house made the night even better. In fact, it was the best evening of Harry's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... he would never, ever forget tonight.

Harry had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To no surprise, both he had passed with good marks; Hermione, of course, had the best grades of the first years. Even Crabbe and Goyle had managed passing grades.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"I'll tell Mother and Father I want to have you over for the summer. The Manor gets dreadfully boring at times." Draco said with a drawl. "You'll love it I'm sure. Nothing like what those filthy muggles call home I sure."

Harry smiled and chuckled. "Thanks," said Harry, "I'll need something to look forward to." People

jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: "Bye, Harry!" "See you, Potter!"

"Better get used to that every year. You're everyone's favorite person." Draco said.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Harry.

Just as he passed through the gateway he caught a glimpse of a certain group of red heads. "Go on, Draco. I've got some more farewells. Don't forget to write."

Draco gave a knowing smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Harry made his way to the Weasleys and called out to Fred and George. They were about to call back when they were both pushed aside as a hand pointed him out. "There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"

It was Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the Weasleys and the focus of Harry's year. She was cuter than he had imagine. "Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see-"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley smiled down at him "Well, I'm happy to finally meet you Harry. Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Harry as he shared a mischievous grin with the twins.

"Ready, are you?" It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying Balthazar in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.

"You must be Harry's family!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

Harry hung back for a last word with the Weasleys. "I'm so grateful to Fred and George. If it weren't for them I don't think I'd have ever met Fluffy. That's his name by the way guys. Belongs to Hagrid, go figure."

Fred and George exchanged excited looks. "Wicked" they said in unison.

"Well, keep in touch. Maybe we'll see each other of the holidays." Harry said to the twins before giving Percy a polite nod.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to an uncertain expression after looking uncertainty after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

Suddenly Harry found himself between the twins, hunched over and away from their mother's ear. "Don't be afraid to write Harry." Fred said with a trademark mischievous smile. "Yeah Harry, let us know if there's anything we can do to, lessen the drudgery of your relative misery." Said George, matching his brothers smirk.

"It won't be so bad." Harry said feigning innocence. Fred and George were surprised at the grin that was spreading over Harry's face. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer..."