NOTE: Sorry that it has taken longer than usual to get this episode out. I've been working on other stories, and inspiration for this story has dried up quite a bit. This will be the penultimate episode, and the one where the big battle takes place at the end, anyway.

I would also like to point out that, beyond another shorter story set between the events of this one and the equivalent of The Chamber of Secrets, I'm not planning on writing any more stories in the Cetra Heritage Saga, at least for the time being. I might come back to do my version of The Chamber of Secrets later, but at the moment, I am VERY burnt out.

EPISODE 5:

THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE

The best laid plans o' mice and men gang aft a-gley,

And leave us naught but grief and pain for promised joy.

-Ode to a Mouse, by Robert Burns.

CHAPTER 21:

THE STOLEN MATERIA

Being a bodyguard to Harry Gainsborough was not a task Snape relished. Not because he regretted his oath. He meant every word, and the boy was far better than his father. Still very much a Gryffindor, sometimes acting without thinking. But he had the cunning that Salazar Slytherin would have been proud of. And while the boy still had his father's mischievous streak, it was tempered. The boy was old for his age, perhaps too old, though how much of that was due to the Dursleys, and how much of it was due to the battles he had fought on the Planet, Snape didn't know.

Even so, Snape still didn't want to be a bodyguard. He placed a certain premium on self-preservation. Not that he was a coward. Indeed, Harry himself, after they had a private discussion about Snape's past, pointed out that to be a spy within the Death Eaters must've been appallingly dangerous. Especially with Voldemort's skill in Legilimency. But Snape felt that sacrificing one's life should be a last resort, not a first resort. Harry had agreed wholeheartedly.

Snape was brought to mind of a quote attributed to the famous Muggle, General George Patton. An American and a boor, but he had the right idea. Something about that no war was ever won by someone dying for their country, but rather, making the other guy die for their own(1).

Plus, there was the fact that Snape wasn't that fond of flying. It wasn't that he hated it or feared it. Indeed, he was one of the few wizards who could fly without a broomstick or without using an animagus transformation. It was perhaps the best bit of magic the Dark Lord ever taught him. But flying, from a tactical viewpoint, made one vulnerable to attack from far more angles than if one was on the ground(2). And few wizards were accustomed to fighting in three dimensions, even Snape. Playing Quidditch was another matter, but he wasn't that fond of the sport anyway. Maybe it was the fact that Potter was a star Quidditch player himself that soured Snape's own appreciation of the game, and of flying.

Nonetheless, he would play referee for this Quidditch match, and make sure that Quirrell didn't try anything. Or rather, his master. Even now, everyone in the know had suspicions that Quirrell was definitely possessed by Voldemort. If Snape still had his Dark Mark, would it burn, he wondered?

As he waited near the changing rooms, his broom in hand, he resisted an urge to clutch at his arm, where the Dark Mark once burned. It was mere delusion, like the phantom pain people felt in amputated limbs, only psychological in origin than neurological. But in a way, he could still feel it there, reminding him that he had been once branded by Voldemort like common cattle.

Voldemort…Snape found himself using the Dark Lord's sobriquet. Not that Snape would ever use the Muggle name of Voldemort. While remembering that he was a halfblood was good, it was better to remember the name he chose to inspire fear and awe, all the better to remember that the man (if you could call a creature like Voldemort a man) was a threat. Then again, who named their kid 'Sephiroth'? Unless you wanted them to be an angel…or a demon.

Dumbledore had refused to increase the protection around the Stone, saying only that he had someone watching it, and the students, in earnest. He had been annoyingly cryptic there. Then again, what else was new?

Snape had confided with Aerith, Jenova, and McGonagall about his concerns. As it turned out, Jenova was already playing guard around the Stone. The alien entity's ability to spread her consciousness across multiple bodies was freakish, but extraordinarily useful. Two bodies patrolled two sections of the layout. The first was situated just after the Devil's Snare. Jenova had her challenge set up there, between Sprout and Flitwick's respective challenges. Aerith had hers set up between Quirrell's obstacle…and Snape's own. The second Jenova body was currently patrolling the area around the Stone, where the Mirror of Erised was situated. And she was actually rather coy. She had smirked, and had said, "Wait till you see what Dumbledore has cooked up for Voldemort."

He hoped it would be enough. Jenova seemed to think it was, and for all the woman's haughtiness and superiority, she was far from an imbecile. She just liked keeping secrets…and springing surprises on people.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams filed out of the changing rooms. Snape glared at them. "Well, come on, then," he said, a little more harshly than he intended. He still didn't want to fly.

When undertaking delicate matters where blame would potentially shift to you, it helped to have a proxy. That way, things could be done at one remove, and you had a potential scapegoat.

Voldemort didn't often do things this way. He wanted people to know that it was Lord Voldemort dominating them, being more powerful than them. But being weaker, lesser than he once was forced him to do things a bit more quietly, especially after the failure of the troll and of his attempt during the last Quidditch match. It was one thing to see the seeds of suspicion within the eyes of the staff. But he knew that Harry Potter was suspicious of him too. The boy had either been told, or figured out on his own. His perceptiveness and intelligence was quite admirable. A shame he had to die.

But the first thing Voldemort needed to do was defang this lion. The boy was skilled in magic, true, but his biggest strength, and weakness, was in the Materia. He'd been considering how to steal it for some time, until he hit upon the perfect solution: steal it during a Quidditch match. He also decided to snap Harry's wand for good measure. It wouldn't prevent the boy from getting another wand, but it would be a blow.

His patsy was extraordinarily simple to choose: Draco Malfoy. The little shit had a ridiculously deep grudge against Harry, and was the son of one of his Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy, who claimed to be under the Imperius. Well, that blonde-haired overly-groomed traitor would appreciate the irony in what Voldemort had done to his son.

Voldemort had experimented with various spells over the years. And indeed, while in his wraith-like state after Potter somehow destroyed his body, one of the things he would do to occupy him (obsessing over his revenge did get boring after a while) was thinking of hybridising spells arithmantically. One such spell was what he called the Manchurian Candidate spell, after a Muggle film he had heard of(3).

Simply put, it was a hybrid of the Imperius Curse and a Memory Charm. Primarily, it controlled a person like they were under the Imperius, but once their task had been fulfilled, they would forget about what they did, like they had been hit with Obliviate. What was more, special commands could be implanted into the spell that could have a verbal or visual trigger, and thus send the target into a brainwashed state once more, without actually having to cast the spell again.

The latter property was potentially useful, but Voldemort also knew that untested spells were dangerous. The only reason why he used it even now was that the reward of getting the Materia outweighed the risk of Draco dying or doing something strange. Not that he cared about Draco Malfoy's fate, but drawing attention to himself more than he already had wasn't wise. He decided not to test the trigger element. Instead, he merely sent Draco to steal the Materia from the locker room, and then hide it at a predetermined location. Namely, a hollow tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. No centaurs would be patrolling there at this time, but he cast a Disillusionment spell on Draco just in case.

Beneath the turban, the rudimentary face Voldemort had grown on the back of Quirrell's head smirked. The Boy Who Lived did have some tricks up his sleeve, which would only serve to make his downfall all the more entertaining. But stealing the Materia and snapping Harry's wand would help to level the playing field a little, ere the coming battle. And a message he intended to have sent with the wand would keep the boy on edge.

He was just a boy. But if what he saw with the troll and with the last Quidditch match was any indication, then there was more to him than met the eye. Still, one shouldn't leave Materia lying around. Anyone could steal it…

Back on the Planet, Yuffie sneezed. Then, she looked at the young woman whom a doctor was examining. They were in one of the medical bays at Shinra HQ, and Yuffie was finding it hard to believe that the young, demure, sad-looking woman in front of her was none other than the mother of Sephiroth. Or one of Shinra's former top scientists from more than a few decades ago.

"Is this necessary?" Vincent asked Rufus, his raspy voice tinged with faint annoyance.

"Vincent…" Lucrezia warned, before looking over at Rufus. "I am capable of performing my own medical examinations. I did so during…" She seemed torn for a moment as to what to call it, before plumping for, "…my pregnancy."

"Be that as it may, Doctor Crescent, you are an AWOL Shinra staff member who has suddenly reappeared after a long absence. Not only that, but you deliberately infected yourself with a biological agent known to have potentially deleterious side effects. Given that both your lover and your son went insane, you'll forgive these understandable precautions," Rufus said coldly.

"Rufus…" growled Vincent, before Cloud put a restraining hand on the dark-haired man's shoulder. Barrett and Cid were still indisposed, but Cloud and Tifa made an effort to visit Vincent and Lucrezia, and Yuffie, back from her latest stay in Wutai, was here as well. Nanaki and Reeve also stood in the room.

"I can sense the Jenova cells within you, Rufus," Lucrezia said. "You're as much of a risk as I am."

The doctor examining Lucrezia was already aware of Rufus' condition. He withdrew a blood sample, and fed it into a bioanalyser. As it ran, Cloud said, "I also have Jenova cells within me. Hojo infected me."

"Yet another crime to add to his litany," Lucrezia sighed. "I'm still finding it hard to believe that Jenova, the main consciousness, is now on our side. Or was once the guiding consciousness of another world. Where is she, anyway?"

"Resting," Rufus said. "Her consciousness is split across two worlds and, from what she told me, multiple bodies. Even to one such as her, it is taxing."

"What of Harry?" Cloud asked, concerned. Although he had once been suspicious of the boy, he was now concerned for his well-being. He had heard of the attempts on Harry's life, not to mention Aerith nearly getting killed.

"Apparently he is participating in another match of that Quidditch game the wizards and witches play. Reeve, Cait Sith works fine in Hogwarts, doesn't he? The Mako shielding works well against magic, doesn't it?"

Reeve nodded, getting what Rufus said. "Cait Sith can send video files if we want. And it would be easy to modify a video camera that we'd normally use for security and safety within a Mako Reactor. I'll ask Cait Sith to send us any saved video of the Quidditch matches."

"Do you think someone will make another attempt on his life?" Tifa asked.

"It's possible, but whoever did it is laying low, I've been told," Rufus said. "They are either an agent of this Voldemort, or else someone allowing Voldemort to possess their body. That being said, Aerith and Jenova actually divulged some interesting information, with permission from Dumbledore, as well as a man by the name of Nicholas Flamel. Voldemort is after something called the Philosopher's Stone, a potent catalyst used in alchemy, said to be mythical. Only one person has been said to make it: the Nicholas Flamel fellow I mentioned. With it, he has created an Elixir of Life, granting him immortality. Or so the legends go. The truth is actually very different. The Philosopher's Stone does not exist, or at least not in the manner that most people believe. Oh, a stone does exist, and Flamel and his wife are very much immortal. But if Voldemort thinks he can use the Stone to gain immortality, he's in for a nasty surprise…"

Harry was elated. True, he had probably pissed off Snape somewhat when he caught the Snitch. He had dived rather close to the Potions Master, after all. But he had won the match for Gryffindor, and nothing bad had happened.

Of course, it was as he was changing that he realised something was wrong. He couldn't find the Aurora Armlet, the Materia on it, or his wand. In a moment of panic, he searched through the locker, before uttering a single expletive. "Shit!"

Fred and George ambled over. "Hey, what's the matter, Harry?" Fred asked.

"The teachers would be taking points off for that kind of foul language," George said with a grin.

"Guys, where is my Materia? Or my wand?" Harry asked. He was acquainted enough of what happened when the Twins were either guilty of a prank, or else not concerned about what was happening.

Their expressions turned deadly serious in a heartbeat. Fred had his wand out from his locker and over to Harry's in a moment. After casting a spell Harry didn't recognise, Fred looked at him. "Someone's used a few spells on this. The lockers are warded against a simple Alohamora spell."

George yelled at Wood. "Wood! Get McGonagall here! Someone's nicked Harry's wand and Materia!"

"And get Snape too!" Harry said. "And Calamitas as well!"

As Wood ran out hurriedly, George turned to Harry. "You trust Snape?" he asked incredulously.

"At least where important things are concerned," Harry said.

McGonagall, Snape, and Jenova all swept in some minutes later, along with Flitwick (his Charms expertise being useful in cases like this). They discussed Fred's diagnostic spellwork, before Flitwick performed his own diagnostic charms. When he got the results, he nodded gravely. "This is, indeed, more than just an Alohamora charm. These were a series of charms designed to disable the wards, before a high-powered Alohamora charm was used to unlock it."

"There's nothing else missing from the lockers, Wood?"

Wood shook his head. "Nothing missing from my locker, and I'm sure the girls would have noticed by now. Fred? George?"

The Twins shook their heads. "Someone's targeted Harry," Fred offered.

George added, "And did so while everyone was busy with Quidditch. It'd be a marvellous prank if it weren't so serious."

"Indeed," McGonagall said archly. "Filius, who would be able to use such spells?"

"They are fairly advanced spells. They would be well-known to curse-breakers, but other than Alohamora, they're not on the curriculum," the diminutive professor mused. "Most likely an adult?"

"It means little," Snape said. "I know for a fact that these spells are well-known to certain individuals, who could have taught them to their children. Certain ward-breaking spells are useful enough in combat to break down shields. And the Imperius curse can be used to have people use a spell that they themselves do not know." When he said certain individuals, Harry and Jenova knew that he meant the Death Eaters.

"What's more, while we were keeping an eye on certain individuals…we cannot keep an eye on every person who leaves the pitch," Jenova said. "The only people we can definitively eliminate are those participating in the Quidditch match, and the staff." Although if Snape is right, Quirrell could have been pulling the strings, Jenova said mentally to Harry, for his benefit.

"So anyone might've been able to slip out and steal from the locker?" Harry asked.

"Yes. We need to find out who, and fast," Jenova said.

The mood was soured even more when an object was found on the path to the castle. It was Harry's wand, snapped into several pieces, and with a folded sheet of paper below it. The message on the paper looked like it had been typed rather than written (there were spells that could 'print' letters onto paper), and it was definitely a threat.

This is your fate, Harry Potter. Broken and left dead in the mud. Where you belong.

Harry clenched his fist. Bastard, he thought to himself. You will not get away with this. I will make sure of that.

CHAPTER 21 ANNOTATIONS:

Well, there's a twist. And I've decided that this episode and the next one will be the last ones for this story. Which means that Harry and company will be going through the trapdoor sooner than in canon.

BTW, the truth about the Philosopher's Stone will be in this episode.

1. I like this quote, but apparently it came from the movie rather than from an actual speech by Patton.

2. This is an oblique reference to the webcomic Second Empire, which is about an army of Daleks who break away from the main Dalek Empire. It's surprisingly funny and heartwarming. In one scene, a group of newly-born Daleks are being drilled about procedures. Even though Daleks can fly, they point out that doing so in many combat situations just leaves you open to fire from more enemies.

3. Based on a novel by Richard Condon, The Manchurian Candidate was a 1962 film about Communists brainwashing a group of US soldiers they had abducted. A remake was made in 2004, albeit with different antagonists.

CHAPTER 21 SOUNDTRACK:

Stolen!: Trail of Blood (FTG).