Year 1 – The Philosopher's Stone
Chapter 9 – The Mirror, the Traitor, and the Stone
Chapter Summary: Harry and Draco descend into the deepest dungeons in Hogwarts, and face the greatest trials of their young lives.
Author: Khodexus
Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts, atmosphere, and mild violence. No cussing, no adult situations.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.
Harry and Draco shared a glance as they listened briefly to the music drifting through the partially open doorway before entering the room. They saw the terrifying beast fast asleep just past the trap door. The music came from a harp set on the floor close by, that seemed to be enchanted to continue playing on its own. Fluffy's breath wheezed in and out of all three heads with a great harmonic snore.
"I don't know how long that spell will last, or if it will affect us if we linger. We'd better get down the trap door." Harry whispered. They walked together across the room to where the dog lay just beyond the door itself. They eyed it warily as they inched closer, slowing the nearer they got. Harry was feeling less and less certain of their plan as they approached, but he took a deep breath, and bent to pull the heavy wooden door open by the iron ring set into the wood. He flinched when the hinges creaked, and the three-headed dog shifted, but it did not wake. "What do you suppose is down there? How far down does it go?" He wondered aloud, his whispers barely audible above Fluffy's snoring.
"I don't know, anything we can drop to see how…?" Draco trailed off when the harp suddenly grew quiet, and the dog began to stir. "Uh oh." It shifted again, and licked its chops, and one eye closest to them opened, then blinked blearily.
Harry didn't wait to see what would happen if they lingered, but immediately grabbed Draco and pulled him right to the edge of the hole before jumping down into the dark himself. He fell, completely blind, and had just enough time to wonder how far he'd fallen already when he landed on something soft, though still with enough force to wind him. A moment later a second "whump" announced Draco landing a few feet away, and growls and barks from overhead let them know their passage had not gone unnoticed by the guard dog.
"What is this stuff?" Draco asked, feeling around himself.
They were lying on something springy and soft, but also a little damp, like moss, or vines. Vines! Harry's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "It's the devil's snare, it's already grabbing us!" he whispered hoarsely. He remembered their research earlier, and recalled that devil's snare would crush you more quickly if you struggled, so he fought to calm his racing heart and relax his body.
"Incendio!" Draco cried, setting fire to the plant creepers nearest him. "Incendio!" he called again, and set more of the plant on fire. He was able to crawl free, then turned back to help Harry. "Incendio!" he cast the spell one more time, and the vines loosened their grip on Harry enough for him to climb down off the smoldering remnants of the trap.
"That was really quick thinking." Harry remarked, as he fished his own wand out of his robes so he'd be better prepared next time.
"I knew the devil's snare was coming up, so I was already thinking of that spell when we fell down." Draco explained.
"Do you think its dead?" Harry asked, as they crept a little closer. "No, don't." Harry pushed Draco's hand down when he started to aim his wand at the still crawling vines. "No sense killing it, now that we're past. You know how Professor Sprout gets when you mistreat her plants, even the dangerous ones."
"Oh, right. She's already going to throw a fit over this, isn't she?" Draco remarked, nodding, then turning to look around them. They examined the room, and found a single corridor leading away.
"Well, we don't know as much about the other defenses so we've got to be ready for anything." Harry started down the corridor in front of them, following a faint sound that grew more persistent the further they went.
As they drew closer, Harry strained, trying to identify the familiar, but still elusive sound. "It's kind of like wings, but there's a dinging sound in there too, don't you think?" he said after a moment.
"Yeah, it kind of reminds me of a snitch. Or maybe a whole lot of snitches." Draco agreed.
They came to a brilliantly lit chamber with a high ceiling, filled with fluttering colorful birds swirling in the air above them. A door stood locked and closed at the far end of the room, and they took a moment to examine everything, and consider what it could mean.
"I think, if I rush across, I might be able to make it to the door before the birds can swarm me…"
"Uh, Harry." Draco replied, pulling his sleeve and pointing across the room, where several brooms hovered at mounting height.
Harry glanced again at the jeweled birds, before starting off at a sprint toward the brooms. He was expecting the birds to attack them or something, but nothing happened, and the two of them made it to the brooms without incident. "They're awfully quiet." Draco observed, referring to the birds, then moved to inspect the brooms more closely, obviously looking for imperfections or signs of wear.
"Yeah they are, they…" Harry did a double take, as he realized what he was seeing were winged metal objects with actual jewels, not simply colorful creatures. "Draco, those aren't birds! They're keys!" he shouted, "Keys with wings! One of them must go to that door." He added, abandoning the brooms to rush to the lock, examining it more closely. "We should have brought some of Vincent's matchsticks, shouldn't we?" he frowned, and looked back up at the keys, "How will we know which one goes to the door?"
They puzzled over that for several long moments before Draco grinned, "We're not going to figure that out from down here. You're the youngest seeker in a century, I'll bet once we're in the air we'll be able to spot one that looks a bit different." Draco mounted the broom he'd obviously come to favor, and Harry returned to grab one as well. It wasn't his Wind Chaser, but it still handled well under his hands as he flew up into the room. "You think Madam Hooch helped with this one?" he asked.
"This sort of thing is mostly charms work; that means Flitwick probably came up with it." Draco shrugged, and soon they were far too busy to hold any sort of conversation.
The keys dodged and spun just out of reach, but Harry wasn't really trying to catch them, merely find something that caught his eye. "There!" he shouted after a few minutes searching, "That one has a crumpled wing, like it's been grabbed and stuffed into a keyhole already!" The chase was on, both him and Draco flew after the chosen key, the rest of the swarm growing more and more frenzied as the chase intensified.
Finally Draco was able to snatch it out of the air after Harry herded it into a corner, and they sailed down to try their key on the door. The lock clicked, and the key went fluttering away the moment the door opened. "I don't know which test is next, but from here on we're going to have to be that much more clever." Harry nodded, and they pushed through into the next room.
The chamber was pitch black at first, but once they'd both crossed the threshold the room lit up to reveal two tall rows of lifelike statues facing away from them. They walked in between the first few, and saw matching rows – only white instead of black – on the opposite side.
"It's a chess set!" Draco announced, awe coloring his tone. He touched the black queen and the stone came to life, its faceless head turning to look down at him. "I bet we have to play to get across." The statue nodded, and Draco frowned, looking across the room to where the door was slightly ajar. He moved forward as if to see if he could pass, but when the white pawns drew their swords to block the way, he withdrew, "Thought so." He muttered then asked "Do we have to join your team?" He looked up at the queen. Again she nodded.
"Alright, what piece do you want to play as?" he asked Harry.
"Uh, maybe I should leave that decision to you. You're way better at chess than me."
"Right." Draco looked a little sheepish, and stood back off the giant checkered floor to consider his options, and plan his strategy. "I've got an idea; let's just hope it'll work. It'll all depend on how much skill and experience these pieces have, and…"
He paused, and glanced at Harry as another thought occurred to him. "This could be dangerous, I've seen chess pieces really maul each other in regular games, if these are like that, with them being so huge, we'd better be careful not to let ourselves get taken."
"Yeah that's… really comforting." Harry said sarcastically, his nerves already starting to fray.
"Well, there's no help for it, I'll make you the queen." Draco announced, "And I'll play a bishop. If my strategy works, we might just start catching up with You-Know-Who."
The black queen and one of the bishops were already leaving the board to make space for the two of them, and Harry tried hard not to worry as Draco started playing. "Yep, white always takes the first move." Draco observed when a white pawn moved forward two spaces. The black pieces moved wherever Draco instructed, and he was quick, sharp, and didn't hesitate as he ordered them around. When Draco had one of their pawns capture an enemy pawn to protect himself their worry about the pieces being rough was proven to be accurate. The white pawn was ruthlessly beaten down and dragged off the board, just as Draco had predicted. Draco moved him and Harry out early, though Harry was happy to note they always seemed protected by another piece.
But Draco wasn't holding back. He had Harry capture a pawn right next to the enemy King, putting the piece in check for a turn as it moved away, then when the white queen threatened him, Draco took a knight putting him on nearly a straight diagonal from Harry, leaving them both very exposed, it seemed.
"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked as the second white knight moved to threaten him. "You're watching that knight, right?" he added.
"I've got this, don't worry." Draco assured him as he moved diagonally straight toward Harry to protect him.
"But won't they sacrifice a knight to…?!"
Harry never finished, for Draco grabbed his arm, already in a full sprint. "Just run!" he cried. The pieces sprang to action as they abandoned the game, the closest ones trying to intercept them with weapons drawn, but they were able to charge through the unlocked door before the statues could stop them.
"What did we just do?" Harry asked as they slammed the door shut. They paused for a moment, and heard the pieces stop moving on the other side of the door, their magic growing dormant with no opponents to play against.
"Ugh, what is that?!" A foul stench assaulted them as soon as they'd entered this room, but they quickly pulled their robes up to cover their faces, though it only marginally masked the scent.
The room they found themselves in was spacious, and seemed to have been the living quarters for a very large troll, now lying face down on the stone floor with a nasty lump on its head. "This must be…" Harry choked out, as they rushed quickly past the fallen troll, unable to really finish his thought in the face of the horrible smell. The snoring troll looked almost peaceful.
They were quite grateful to make it into the next room, where they found a table set with 7 different bottles in all shapes and sizes. "What did you do back there?" Harry asked once he'd cleared his head of the retched stench. "On the chess board, how did we win?"
"Oh… well… technically, we cheated." Draco grinned, "I played us to the far side of the board, and we were able to make it through the door before they realized what we were up to. Probably wouldn't have worked if the door hadn't already been open."
"That was risky." Harry admonished, then grinned as well, "Brilliant, but risky."
"It worked, didn't it?" Draco countered with a wide grin.
Once they approached the table, flames sprouted ahead of them and behind them, two different colors of magical fire to bar their paths in either direction.
"This must be Snape's defense; this is going to be really tricky." Draco began, examining the potions set out in a row on the table. He was just looking at them for the moment, while Harry picked up a small roll of parchment, and read what was written on it aloud.
" 'Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind. Two of us will help you, whichever you would find. One among us seven, will let you move ahead. Another will transport the drinker back instead. Two among our number hold only nettle wine. Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore. To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide. You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end. But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third as you see clearly, all are different size. Neither dwarf nor giant, holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and second on the right. Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.' "
"What does it mean?" Harry asked once he'd finished reading.
"This one's nettle wine." Draco announced, pointing to the bottle in the center and then re-stoppering it after smelling the contents. "And so is this one." He added, singling out another bottle all the way on the right.
"This one's poisonous. I'd recognize that smell anywhere. I got really sick after getting into Severus' potion kit once when I was five, only had a sip, but I still remember it vividly." He continued tapping the bottle right next to the last, as an astonished Harry looked on. "But these four I don't recognize." He frowned, as he pointed at the remaining bottles, and paced in front of them.
"What's to stop us – well I don't know if we could but – what would stop someone from just vanishing the fire or using a detoxification charm on the potions?" Harry asked.
"The riddle." Draco said simply.
"No, I mean we could just ignore the riddle, and…"
"The riddle makes the magic stronger." Draco insisted, "I can't believe you don't know that. A lot of magic, particularly old magic, can be made nearly indestructible if you build in an 'escape clause'. It was originally a fae technique, I think."
Harry sighed, and scanned the clues again then said, "This one won't help us move forward, it's on the end." He told Draco, referencing the second clue. "And if it's not nettle wine it might be poison."
"You said the second left and second right are twins, right?" Draco asked, and examined the second left potion a bit more closely. "They look different, but if that one's poison, this one is too." He sniffed it very carefully. "Oh yep, same stuff!" he held it at arm's length – his face a little green – then put it back into place.
"This one's the biggest." Harry observed, after reading the clues once more, pointing to the one at the end Draco had said was nettle wine. "That means it doesn't contain death, right?"
Draco took the parchment, and read it over carefully, then nodded. "Which one's the smallest then?" Harry gestured to the potion third from the right, and Draco nodded, examining it more closely, "Hey, this one's been tasted." He gasped, "Either that or moved, it's only about half full, and some of the potion is on the sides."
"It can't be poison either, which means it might be the potion to help us move forwards." Harry grinned.
"Or it could be the potion to help us move back…" Draco sighed, and looked at the remaining two potions on the far left and third from the left.
"Wait." Harry counted the bottles and named each one they knew, "You said the middle one is nettle wine, the one to the left of it should be poison, right?"
"Yeah, you will always find poison on nettle wine's left side!" Draco agreed, rereading the first clue. "Then that means this one on the left must help you go back, since it isn't our friend if we want to move forwards, and this one which has been tasted will get us through the black fire!"
"There's not much left in it." Harry observed.
"No, just enough for one of us, and only because we're both small." Draco agreed, picking up the bottle and handing it to Harry. "You should go, I'll be right here when you come back, or if you need my help for anything."
"You won't be able to follow." Harry took the potion, and regarded his friend.
"I know, but I can always run for help if you can't stop Him. If you can though, try to find a way to stop him without fighting him. I don't think you'd win, even if you were 'lucky' the first time, and even if you could, it's just smarter to stay on his good side for now, especially if for some reason you can't stop him."
"I know… it's probably best he doesn't realize how much I hate him." Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, and steeled himself for what was to come. "I think this will be the last room. Hagrid didn't mention any more teachers who'd defended the stone, and that room with the troll is already one more than we'd counted on. Quirrel is supposed to be good with trolls; I bet he set that there to help guard the stone."
"Go to it then. Do whatever it takes. If anyone can do it, it'll be you. You're a true born Slytherin, after all."
Harry smiled, drank down the potion – which made him shiver as it spread through him like ice – took a deep steadying breath, and walked into the flames.
Harry could see nothing but the black fire for a long moment, before emerging into the final chamber. He must have made some sound of surprise, for the figure ahead of him in the room turned to regard him, smiling under that ridiculous purple turban. "Quirrel?!" All Harry's careful plans and research seemed to fly away in that moment, this had to be a trick, maybe the next test, but what on earth did Quirrel have to do with any of this?
Quirrel looked startled too, "P-Potter?" he blinked, "I'd been wondering when I'd finally get to confront you without that silly act, but… what are you doing here?"
"I thought… I came to find Voldemort; I thought he would be here… What are you doing here?"
Quirrel laughed, and it wasn't his normal nervous laugh either, "Well isn't this something special? So you recognized him in the forest, did you? He thought you might, and thought you'd meet us again very soon, but I didn't really think I'd see you here, of all places."
Harry took several steps closer, looking around, something was very wrong.
"So you're… helping him?" Harry ventured. It was the only explanation that made sense, "It was all just an act, a very clever act?!"
"Yes, I was quite convincing, wasn't I? Only Snape suspected the truth, and if he'd known the whole truth… well, I'm not sure I'd have made it this far."
"Snape… suspected?" How could that be? Snape had sworn to them that none of the teachers were involved, and the soothstone had verified it.
"Yes, he tried to stop me from getting a look at the protections on Halloween; he wasn't fooled by my diversion. You remember that?"
"That's how he got bit!" Harry gasped.
"You're a very clever boy, and apparently quite nosey, as well as unusually discreet. I had no idea you'd discovered enough to follow me here. Now, perhaps you could help me figure out this final puzzle. What do you make of this mirror?"
Harry had been so distracted by the unexpected revelation of Quirrel's previously unknown role in the mystery he hadn't even noticed the tall oval mirror at the far end of the room. It was ornate, with a gold frame and two clawed feet. He came closer, expecting to see his reflection, but gasped when he saw other people in the mirror, not just himself. He whirled around, but there was no one there.
"What do you see?" Quirrel asked, moving to stand beside him.
"I see people." Harry turned back to the mirror, and looked a little closer, spotting an inscription along the top of the mirror: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
There was something very familiar about the people in the mirror, standing all around him. Quirrel rolled his eyes. "That's not much help."
"Who are these people, Mr. Potter?" A new voice spoke, echoing around the chamber in a harsh hiss. Harry immediately recognized it as belonging to the apparition of Voldemort he'd seen in the forest, he also realized it was the second voice he'd heard whispering in the library before he and Draco had learned about Norbert.
Harry glanced around wildly, and Quirrel looked slightly nervous as well. "Where are you?" Harry called when he could find no sign of the dark lord.
"Let me speak to him… face-to-face." Voldemort hissed again, the sound seeming to come from Quirrel, though his mouth wasn't moving.
"Master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrel protested.
"I have strength enough… for this…" the Dark Lord insisted.
Harry watched, horrified, as Quirrel unwound the odd smelling turban from his head, and then turned around to face away from Harry.
Where the back of his head should have been, was a face with malicious red eyes and pinched nostrils. "Harry Potter." He said, grinning slightly, "See what I have become? 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, as you've seen, these past weeks… but once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own. Do you see?"
Harry did see. And he had no idea how he hid the revulsion he felt from showing on his face as he nodded. His conversation with Lucius Malfoy over the Christmas break came back to him in a rush, and he knew what he must do. "So tell us again what you see, Quirrel… when you look in the mirror?" Voldemort continued.
"When I look, I see the stone… I'm presenting it to my master." Quirrel told them, looking back into the mirror as Harry approached again. Quirrel then turned so that Voldemort could continue watching him.
"And you Harry… do you recognize these people who appear to you in the mirror?"
Harry looked again, "I don't know these people, but…" he paused, and examined them one by one more closely, thinking about what he should say. The two closest to him stood right over his shoulders, one on either side. The first was a man with glasses, and a nose much like his. The woman had red hair, and smiled warmly down at him through the mirror, she had…
"My eyes, she has my eyes!" Harry realized aloud.
"You see your family… interesting." Voldemort guessed.
"Yes, it's… my family." He looked at all the people, some with his eyes, others with his nose, and other familiar features spread between them. His heart warmed, and he felt a knot in his throat.
"Do you think the mirror shows the future?" Quirrel asked, stepping close enough to see himself reflected in the mirror.
"Don't be an idiot…" Voldemort chided his servant, "Potter is the last of his family… it shows him his past… perhaps… let me look this time."
Harry felt a small surge of panic as Quirrel gently brushed him out of the way. His family was there, in the mirror, but he couldn't see them now.
Quirrel stood and turned to face away from the mirror, as Harry stared longingly at the silver glass. "I see… myself… returned in all my glory… my enemies dead at my feet, and my…" The Dark Lord trailed off.
"I want to see my family again." Harry insisted, as he tried to push Quirrel out of the way. There was a hiss from Quirrel, and a smell like burned flesh. A flash of pain in his scare momentarily blinded Harry.
"What was that?!" Harry groaned.
Quirrel backed away from him. "What did you just do, Potter?!" he screeched, holding his forearm where Harry had touched him.
"It's that spell…" Voldemort cried, "The one his mother cast as she died protecting him."
Harry stared with wide eyes, clenching his teeth as he saw the burns his touch had created on Quirrel's skin. He hoped Voldemort could not sense how much he hated him. He was very glad for the distraction of the mirror. He'd never seen most of his family before, and it was very calming to look at them in the reflection.
"I don't understand!" Quirrel voiced what both he and Harry were thinking.
"It was old magic… something I hadn't counted on." Voldemort explained, "But no matter, just don't touch him." Harry could get behind that idea, but he still felt incredibly nervous and overwhelmed in the presence of these wizards sharing a body.
Harry moved again to the mirror, to look at his family once more, as Voldemort continued. "You long for family…" It was more a statement than a question, "Just as Quirrel longs to serve his master well… and return to me my body with the stone… The Mirror seems to show us our longings and desires…"
Quirrel started to move in front of the mirror, but stopped before actually touching Harry again.
"I don't understand the trick to this, Master. How do you protect a stone with a mirror? Is it in the mirror? Are we supposed to break it?"
"What do you think, Potter?" Voldemort asked. "How would you use such a mirror to protect the stone?"
Harry shook his head, "I don't know." He admitted, truthfully. He wanted to see more of his family, but he didn't want to do it with Voldemort looking over his shoulder.
"If you help me, Potter…" Voldemort added, "We could be more powerful than any pair of wizards in history. Together… we could bring them back…"
Harry swallowed, and tears stung his eyes. He could have his parents back. If Voldemort could come back to life with the power of the stone and the elixir, so could Harry's parents. He knew the truth of Voldemort's words and they tugged at his heart. The pain of knowing he could never go along with it was worse than the pain in his forehead when Quirrel had touched him. But he could at least pretend to help. It really wasn't hard to pretend that he wanted it desperately enough to serve the dark lord.
"It's changing!" Harry observed after he'd wiped the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I see myself, using the stone to bring them back!" he gasped, and leaned forward, starting to fall to his knees.
Quirrel reached out automatically to catch him, but then withdrew his hand yet again, as both he and Harry cried out from the fierce pain. "Idiot!" Voldemort shouted, but then a voice drifted to them from the chamber behind.
"…In there with him, we thought it'd just be…" The voice belonged to Draco.
"It's Him!" Voldemort hissed, "Curse him… he's not supposed to be back yet!"
"We must flee, my lord!" Quirrel gasped, getting to his feet. Harry didn't know what was going on, but he was nervous enough that he panicked when Quirrel drew his wand.
"Yes… we're not yet ready to face him." Voldemort agreed, and Harry reached out.
"What about my family?!" he asked, feeling genuine panic at the thought of losing this opportunity. But when they touched again, pain once more lanced across his head. He held on this time, though, his desperate hope outweighing all reason in his mind for several long seconds. But Quirrel managed to pull free, and then he was gone, and Harry's vision faded around the edges almost to black.
"Harry! Are you alright, Harry?" Draco shook his shoulders, as he lay there on his back, and gradually Harry returned to himself to see Draco leaning over him, fear and panic on his face, to mirror the fear and panic Harry had felt a moment earlier.
Mirror! Harry pushed himself to his knees, and would have gotten to his feet if his head hadn't started swimming.
"Calm yourself." A gentle and familiar voice told him, a thin comforting hand gripping his shoulder.
"Professor! Dumbledore, sir. I thought you'd left!" Harry gasped when he looked up at the headmaster's smiling, white-whiskered face with its gold rimmed spectacles.
"I had. But you see; no sooner had I reached London, than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to see Quirrel depart."
"So he's gone then. He didn't get the stone?"
"No, he did not." Dumbledore assured him. "Though they were coming dangerously close to unraveling my brilliant defense; with your help of course."
"I'm sorry, I didn't actually want to help them, just make him think I wanted to help."
"And your performance was quite commendable." Dumbledore smiled his bright cheery smile.
"But you didn't see any of it." Draco protested.
"I saw enough, I could tell simply by the way things played out right at the end that they were fooled."
"So if Vol, I mean You-Know-Who, doesn't have the stone…"
"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."
"Yes, sir." Harry agreed, then continued, "If Voldemort doesn't have it, where is it? What does the mirror have to do with it?"
Draco cringed, and Dumbledore smiled, his eyes lit with amusement, "I am glad you asked me about it, for it was one of my more brilliant ideas. And, between you and me, that is saying something. For starters, you should know the Mirror of Erised shows us nothing more, and nothing less, than the deepest most desperate desires of our hearts. 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 the Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes."
"So, once I had the idea to use the stone to bring back my parents, I wouldn't have been able to get it at all." Harry said to himself.
"Perhaps, but I think you also realized that while you might desperately want to see them again, you could never do such a thing to their memory, and never would join Voldemort even to bring them back."
Draco looked very thoughtful, as he approached the mirror and looked into it, then sighed. "I don't think I could want to find it but not use it." He told them. "All I see is myself, as Minister of Magic, and a powerful wizard, with both my parents watching me proudly. And when I think about the stone, I see myself using it to make gold."
"Harry might have gained it, but now we may never know. I believe I will have a chat with my friend Nicolas, and see what is to be done about the stone."
"I have one more question." Harry said, looking up at Dumbledore, even after he got to his own feet.
"Just one, Harry?" The headmaster's eyes twinkled.
"Voldemort mentioned my mother; that she died protecting me. And I've heard also, that something led Voldemort to me, but I don't understand any of it. Why would Voldemort come after me when I was so young?"
"Alas, that is one question I cannot answer. 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."
Harry sighed, Dumbledore was right. He hated to hear that. "But…"
"No, Harry. I am sorry. But there are some truths we are never ready to face, and I would at least wait until you are equipped to handle it. Ask me again in a few years if you must."
"What happened to Quirrel's arm?" Draco asked, turning back to face them. "It looked like his hand had been nearly burned off."
"Oh, yeah. When I touched him, it burned him, and it hurt me a lot too." Harry explained.
Dumbledore was happy to answer this question, it seemed. "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." Harry's hand went to the mark on his forehead, "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. Quirrel, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony for something so evil to touch a person marked by something so good."
Harry thought about that a bit. It matched what Lucius had told him about Voldemort not understanding such things, and that being his one true weakness. "If there are no further questions, you two, then I would suggest you allow me to escort you to the hospital wing. You've had a trying time, and even though you seem mostly intact, I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey would never forgive me if I was lax in my responsibility in letting her see to your wellbeing."
They agreed, and left this place deep under the castle. Harry and Draco were both feeling the effects of their lack of sleep, and all the tests they'd endured, not to mention their confrontations with the various magical defenses in place on the way to the stone.
There were now only a few days left before the end-of-year feast. Harry and Draco spent most of the first day in the hospital wing. The stay was made much easier by the arrival of numerous gifts for Draco's birthday, while Harry received a few gifts of his own, mostly from Hagrid, and the Weasley twins. Draco shared some of his candy, and they chatted for most the afternoon. Fred and George were very cross at being left out of crucial details of their 'mystery' and insisted on being filled in, "And leave nothing out!" they chorused.
Harry told them everything, except for a few parts about his mother's death and things that felt a little too personal.
While they were in the hospital, Ravenclaw's quidditch team beat Gryffindor, but the match was a lot closer than most people had expected, which meant Ravenclaw hadn't gained many more house points, and it looked like Slytherin was going to maintain their lead for the house cup after all, and there hopefully would not be many more opportunities for the other houses to score points enough to catch back up.
By the time Monday came around, it seemed everyone at the school knew what had happened in the dungeons between Harry and Quirrel. That left a lot of mixed feelings, it seemed, for Harry hadn't explained exactly why he'd done some of what he'd done. So those who'd hated him now seemed to hate him even more, and those who'd been his friends were that much more friendly and proud of him – though Hagrid had been distraught when he discovered he'd been responsible for helping Voldemort learn how to get past Fluffy – and Harry was still very uncertain of how he felt about the ordeal.
When Harry and Draco made it to the great hall that evening, the hall was decked out in green and silver to honor house Slytherin, with a banner depicting a stylized snake spanning the windows behind the high table. Harry found a pair of seats for him and Draco between Gemma Farley and Pansy Parkinson.
They chatted for a while until Dumbledore arrived, and drew the attention of the assembled crowd to his place at the front table. "Another year gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast."
He paused very briefly, and smiled his cheerful smile, "What a year this has been!" he continued, "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…" There were a few chuckles at this, but Dumbledore didn't pause, "Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred forty-four points; in third, Gryffindor, with three hundred seventy points; Ravenclaw has four hundred thirty-eight; and Slytherin, four hundred forty-three."
The Slytherin table erupted into cheers, and Harry cheered right alongside them. "Yes, yes, well done Slytherin, and well done Ravenclaw, for very nearly overtaking them." Dumbledore said once the room had quieted, "There are, however, a few last minutes points I'd like to dish out." Any lingering noise was immediately hushed. "Let me see. Yes, to Fred and George Weasley, for devilish cunning and unwavering dedication to their 'arts', I award Gryffindor house ten points each." The Gryffindors broke into applause, as the twins stood and thumped each other on the back.
"Secondly, to Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe; for a little bit of luck, a small measure of courage, and sincere loyalty, I award Slytherin house, five points each." Harry recalled the role Crabbe and Goyle had played in helping them discover Fluffy, and wondered if that was what the points were for. "To Sidney Fawcett." The dark haired witch at the Ravenclaw table looked surprised and astonished, and blushed even before Dumbledore finished his announcement. "For a sharp mind, and quick hand at solving riddles, I award Ravenclaw house, thirty points."
"We're ahead of Slytherin!" someone shouted from their table, and everyone cheered Sidney, who still seemed confused as to why she was being awarded points.
"To Heather Bennett, for an uncharacteristic wisdom and a kind word of advice, I award Hufflepuff, thirty points." It wasn't enough for Hufflepuff to overtake Gryffindor, but they seemed happy for Heather all the same, and Harry was happy that she received a little extra too.
"To Draco Malfoy!" Dumbledore's voice carried throughout the room, and demanded quiet yet again. "For a brilliantly clever – and quite unorthodox – chess strategy, I award Slytherin house… forty points." Slytherin table cheered once more, and even though Ravenclaw was no longer ahead, some of them cheered for them anyway, even Sidney Fawcett.
"Finally, to Harry Potter… for pure nerve, and for keeping his wits and courage about him during a daring confrontation, I award Slytherin house… sixty points." The room erupted, and the applause was greater than before, even those who didn't like Harry very much couldn't seem to help congratulating them after Dumbledore's odd last-minute awards.
The house cup hadn't changed hands after all, but for whatever reason, the mood was more festive after Dumbledore's announcements. Even Ron Weasley didn't look angry when Harry met his eye briefly over his half eaten pumpkin pasty.
Author's Comments: That's it then. I've got a short epilogue getting posted here momentarily (a lot shorter than my chapters, but also significantly longer than my prologue) and then after that I'll be posting up the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Dragon's Heir, Year 2 – The Chamber of Secrets. I've already got it partially written, and it's turning out to be trickier than Year 1 was in many ways. Right from the start things are different, and I'm having to write completely new scenes with little to no canon frame of reference. But it's a lot of fun too. In a sense, Year 1 was sort of an extended prologue. I introduced most of my core concepts, but Year 2 is when things really start coming into their own, and my story really shows its core.
Hope you'll all stick with me, and I look forwards to reading all of your feedback. Enjoy!
EDIT: Final chapter edited, and it was fun both to read through what I had and to make small changes and improvements. Hope those of you who take the time to reread will appreciate the effort I put in here. See you all in the next installment.
Once again the copyrights for the Harry Potter worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters depicted here and this story are copyrighted to me.
Look for: Harry Potter and the Dragon's Heir, Year 2 – The Chamber of Secrets.