Hi everyone! I hope you're having a good month so far. For the new/recent followers, welcome to the story. To my old and returning readers, welcome back to yet another chapter! Now I want to comment that we're getting pretty close to the end of book one (canon). At the moment I'm considering if it's a good idea to continue the whole seven books in this one story or split it all up into seven books. If you have any opinions or suggestion please let me know in a review or a pm.

Enjoy!

Chapter 32: Unexplained Weirdness

Black spots darkened her vision but her hearing was still fine and she could hear the triumph laughter that seemingly echoed through her mind as she struggled to get back to her feet. But just as she got her legs under her she felt a familiar hand wrap around her bicep and she accepted the help to her feet.

"What happened?" she hears Meissa ask, puzzled, as she blinked away the shadows from her eyesight.

She rubs her eyes and blinks at Meissa who's eyes were clear and confused as opposed to the dark rage that had clouded them earlier. Daphne could only blink at her as she realized, belatedly, that Meissa's voice had lost that guttural tone from earlier - once again smooth and drawing trust once more.

"I… don't know," she confessed thoughtfully, looking at her friend in confusion. "We should go before someone comes to investigate," she gently grabs her friend's hand and pulled her from the Hospital Wing - just barely having the presence of mind to grab the other girl's clothing from her abandoned bed.

There were things that made no sense - like where did that rage come from and that explosion of magic - but there was something that had clicked into place. She could remember several incidents throughout the year where other students would name Meissa as the source of some kind of destruction to a room or a corridor - she's been privy to more than a few episodes but she never seen this depth of rage before.

And was it her imagination or did she sense something twisting in Meissa's gaze?

There was too many unanswered questions in her opinion but she knew that she needed to get Meissa away from the Hospital Wing before the professors arrived to investigate the explosion of magic.

She could come back later and make sure that no one was connecting this to Meissa but that could wait until after the Black Heiress was safe in the Slytherin commons.

~MJB~

Meissa was rubbing her temples - she felt about a hundred times worse now that she was out of the Hospital Wing. She wasn't sure if it was because she was allowing the pain to get through to her or if she was exhausted.

It felt like she was exhausted magically but she wasn't sure why - it felt a more pronounced sort of exhaustion compared to when she originally woke up. She wasn't quite sure when she started to feel exhausted but she could feel the migraine building sharply. She was actually considering laying down and would have if it wasn't for the sharp pain in her side every time she breathed.

So she was lounging about in the commons, not willing to make the journey down to the dorms She contented herself with closing her eyes, grateful that it was so late in the night that there was little else to disturb her. If there had been others down in the commons with her she would have forced herself to brave the stairs just to get some peace and quiet.

She wasn't quite sure where Daphne had disappeared off to - she had mumbled something once they've arrived in the commons but at that point Meissa was struggling not to faint from the migraine assaulting her temples. And even a few hours later she still felt rather faint from the mental assault so she wasn't inclined to go looking for the blonde Slytherin.

Still… she had a feeling that she was missing something…

"What happened?" she mutters out loud to herself, deciding that she might as well consider the events from the other night.

She knows that she followed the trio down into the chambers that was the resting place for the philosopher stone. She remembered finding them in the middle of a chess match - she remembered how much Weasley pissed her off, not that it was hard for him to do so, and having to take over the match to make sure Harry and Hermione lasted the night. Having to salvage both the match and then Ron's later attempt to upstage her was aggravating. She had no issues recalling all of that. She was grateful that she could recall of this so easily.

After that… a dead troll, potions, and then… going on alone with Harry while Hermione and Ron went back to get help. What happened after that?

Pain.

She distinctly remember pain - she must've dueled someone and was thoroughly outmatched.

Quirrell?

Yes… she can remember seeing him in the final chamber. He had been staring at a mirror, whispering madly when Harry exclaimed - giving away their advantage in his shock that it was Quirrell.

She dueled him - and was completely outmatched. She remember the desperation to keep Harry and herself alive. Could remember that she had been flung about like it was simple child's play…

But after that…?

No… she couldn't remember anything.

She has no idea how she ended up laying on the ground. She was sure that she had yet another gap in her memories and hoped that whatever happened Harry was safe. Or rather, as safe as he could've been with a Dark Wizard dueling to hurt/maim and possibly kill.

She wasn't entirely sure what happened between her passing out and waking but instinctively knew that he did well to manage to keep them alive. She'll need to talk to him about what had happened…

She rests her head on the back of the sofa as she thought about what happened when that… cloud vanished and Harry passed out.

All of that… all of that for a fake…

She frowns to herself as she considered a few things.

Would Albus willingly store a fake philosopher stone even though he knew that a Dark wizard was after it?

Her gut answer was no - he may have been foolish to store the stone in Hogwarts but she doubted he would do so with a fake. She had a feeling that he would justify storing the real stone in Hogwarts but doubted he would do so for a fake.

Which meant one of two things.

One: there was never a real philosopher stone. Doubtful since the Flamels have lived longer than the average life spans for a wizard and witch. Even if a wizard or witch lived extremely healthy lives they would at most live two hundred years before their bodies just gave up. Flamel is currently over six hundred years old if memories serve her right and she found it very hard to believe that a two magical beings can live for so long together.

So that left theory number two.

Two: the real philosopher stone is still in the possession of its' creator, Nicolas Flamel. Which begs the question, is he aware of Dumbledore's attempt to possess the stone? Because why else would there be a fake? She had a very distinct feeling that Nicolas Flamel may have been a Slytherin.

In any case it meant that she'll have to readjust her summer plans a bit.

There was a part that was grateful that they had agreed they'd spend the first and last two weeks of the summer in the company of their families before they - Daphne and Meissa - travel to Hermione's house for the first half the summer and then to Meissa's for the second half.

But first…

She sighs to herself as she realized what she needed to do and forced herself to her feet, wincing at the spear of pain in her side. Best to get this over with, she rationalizes in the privacy of her mind. Otherwise, she'd be putting this off until much, much later.

~MJB~

Meissa fidgeted with the tie around her neck as she accompanied Hermione to the Hospital Wing.

"I can't believe you!" the other girl was hissing at her. She made a good impression of a snake, Meissa couldn't help noting that but lost that line of thought when Hermione whirled around with a stern look on her face. "You were injured!" the Gryffindor girl said lowly - it was close to that hiss from before but this time Meissa knew that it wasn't intended. "I saw you! You had blood! On your lips and all over your body! I think you broke a rib and it punctured your lung!"

Meissa only blinked at her friend in confusion before she drew the other girl into a brief - really, really brief - hug. "I'm fine, Hermione. Let's go visit Potter, see if he's awake yet."

And so they continued walking although occasionally she would feel Hermione's fingers brush against the back of her hand as if to reassure herself that she was still there. Meissa didn't fault her for needing the reassurance and so she made no effort to avoid the touch or to tell her to quit it. So long it wasn't a prolonged continuous contact she found she could tolerate brief touches - from someone she could trust anyway.

There were still some people she would refuse to allow to touch her for long - actually it was almost everyone except her cousin, her aunt, her godfather, and her two closest friends. Everyone else she would do everything in her power to limit any touch from them. She knew why - she might not ever want to admit to the reasons but she was deeply aware of the cause.

So long she couldn't lie to herself about it she saw no reason to share it with the world. She didn't want nor need the pity that would appear in their eyes once they find out.

"Meissa," Hermione's voice cut through her rapidly spiraling thoughts and pulled her back to the present. Focusing on her friend Meissa forced herself to put aside her thoughts and saw that there was some sort of expression on her face.

Uncertainty.

She saw it often on the other girl when she was dealing with how to interact with their year mates.

"-believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat," Meissa heard Dumbledore's voice drift through the doors that were somehow left ajar. "No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

Meissa arched an eyebrow at Hermione who had a look of exasperation on her face. The Black heiress imagined that the other girl had argued with the twins over the matter. It was something the Gryffindor girl would've done.

"Three days," she heard the Headmaster say - confusing Meissa until she reasoned that Harry must have asked how long he had been unconscious. She had woken up yesterday and - after questioning Daphne upon her return - she knew that she had been out just a little more than twenty-four hours. Hermione hadn't been happy - well, she was but wasn't at the same time - to see Meissa up and about this morning at breakfast.

It was partially why she was accompanying Hermione to the Hospital Wing instead of retreating to the Slytherin dorms after breakfast. The other girl wanted the Medic-Witch to check her over and make sure that her escape from the Hospital Wing hadn't set anything back.

"-will be most relieved you have come around, they have been extremely worried," she hears the Headmaster continue, prompting her to shake her head in disbelief. Her mind was constantly wondering about right now. Looking at Hermione she saw that she was focused - possibly intent on hearing every little word - with an expression that was a mix of guilt and determination.

"But sir, the stone."

This had Meissa's distracted mind focusing within a second.

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

She blinked as his words registered before indignant rage started to well up from some pit within her. Her magic surging forward before Hermione's hand on her forearm distracted her. Just in time because she wasn't sure if she would've kept her magic from exploding from her and attempt to ravage the Headmaster. Attempt being the key word - because she knew that his magic was deeper and more powerful than hers. He was a Lord and she was just… average.

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?"

"We must have crossed in midair. 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 pull Quirrell off you."

"It was you." Meissa didn't like the sound of reverence in Harry's tone. He never sounded like that before and there was a bite in the air. It wasn't a chill she would've associated with the winter cold - it was summer after all - but a bite similar to magic was all she could identify.

"I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer-"

"Not the Stone, boy, you - the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed." She frowns at her friend who looked just as confused as she was. The stone had been destroyed - Meissa admitted that much to Hermione and Daphne but the three of them knew that it had not been because of Dumbledore.

"Destroyed? But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -" Meissa winced, hoping that Harry wouldn't mention who found the information before she remembered that he believed that Hermione found it.

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. She wasn't sure why but what he said next chilled her. "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."

Meissa's mind started whirling around as she took in everything she had heard so far, her body tensed as she thought about everything. It had been her suspicions that Dumbledore was planning on something with the stone and Harry. Now she was positive that everything had been set up to encourage Harry to pursue this.

She knew from her godfather that the Deputy Headmistress is responsible for handling all Muggle-born wizards and witches or those born or raised by those who are ignorant of the Wizarding World.

Yet it was Hagrid - the ground keeper with a loose tongue and, from Harry's idle comments and Hermione's observations, no real understanding of the Muggle world. Why would he be the one to show Harry the Wizarding world and then conduct private/school business while in the presence of another?!

The only thing that made sense to her was the idea that Dumbledore is trying to mold something out of Harry.

"-is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not being truly alive, he cannot be killed." Hermione and Meissa exchanges looks at this. Meissa was curious as to when Dumbledore made an attempt to discover this - did he try to kill Voldemort after the Fall and discovered this or did he just assume this to be true? "He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. 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."

"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?" Meissa frowned at this before she realized when Voldemort could've possibly said this to him. And for the first time she had to wonder if Harry would be okay after what he had survived down there.

"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." She thought this was rather rubbish - Voldemort was after him - he deserved to know everything to better improve his chances of survival. The loss of his innocence cannot be the only barrier of keeping vital information from him.

"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."

"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." So her suspicions was true… Yet… 'happened' is a rather odd phrase to use. It made her wonder about the Potter estates - an invisibility cloak would be extremely valuable if only because it's extremely hard to produce one and keep it working for many years. It wouldn't just be left lying around - which, her opinion means that someone isn't taking care of the estates and wills like they're supposed to be. "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..."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape -"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

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

"What?"

"He saved his life."

Meissa shut her eyes and swore in the privacy of her mind. Uncle Sevy wasn't going to be happy when he finds out that Harry knows of the life debt he owed to James Potter.

"What?"

"Yes... 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..."

Meissa needed to inform her godfather about this as soon as possible.

"And sir, there's one more thing..."

"Just the one?"

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"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..."

She looked at Hermione and pulled her to the opposite side of the hall and they just managed to look like they haven't been eavesdropping when Professor Dumbledore walked out of the Hospital Wing with an expression on his face that had something akin to disgust. "Ear wax bean," he proclaimed when they looked at him in puzzlement before leaving their sight altogether.

"That was… informative," Hermione remarks idly as Meissa shook her head in disbelief.

"Understatement of the year," the Black heiress mutters. "I just realized something," she looked at her friend who was looking at her in curiosity. "There's seven lies or things I found questionable in the Headmaster's conversation with Harry."

"Really?" the other girl looked shocked by this. "The same magical number you mentioned before, right?" Meissa smirked slightly - careful to make sure that her friend didn't see it - and nodded. Of course Hermione would remember something like that.

"Well?"

She looks at her friend to find that she had an impatient look on her face.

"What were the seven lies you found?"

"I'll tell you in a moment - Harry should be part of this."

With that she ushered her friend into the Hospital Wing and had actually managed to get to Harry's bed without being spotted by the stern Matron.

"Meissa! You're okay!" he exclaimed before he got shushed by the girl in question.

"Not so loud!" she hissed at him.

"She's a wanted fugitive," Hermione chimed unhelpfully. "She's actually supposed to be here," she pointed at the bed next to Harry, "but she made her grand escape yesterday."

Meissa eyed her friend, "You're referring to the explosion, aren't you."

"Perhaps."

The Slytherin girl rolled her eyes at the other girl, choosing not to respond to that. In any case she found a spot on Harry's bed to sit down on, completely disregarding the vacant chair waiting for someone to occupy it. "So, Harry, we saw Professor Dumbledore earlier," she tilts her head at him, "What lies has he been telling you?"

He frowned at her. "He was telling me lies? Wait," he looks at her suspiciously, "How do you know he was talking to me?"

"You're literally the only person in the Wing other than Madam Pomfrey," Meissa remarks drily. "Not to mention you're the Boy-Who-Lived." Harry winced at the reminder as Meissa adjusted her body so that she was putting little to no pressure on her ribs.

"She does have a point," Hermione adds before she started untangling her hair. "Of course, we also overheard your conversation with him."

What followed next was something Meissa was sure would've gotten the Matron on their butt faster than a person can sneeze. Her body tensed in preparation of jumping into the nearest hiding spot - which was probably under a bed - but to her amazement there was no signs of the Medic-Witch coming to reprimand Harry for being loud.

"Do try to be a little louder, I don't think Russia heard you," she commented in a tone that was dry and icy - it reminded her a bit of her godfather's. She would admit - in the privacy of her mind - that a part of her did enjoy the coloring on Harry's face as he realized his mistake.

"In any case - as I told Hermione," Meissa started idly, "I've identified seven lies he told you. If you like I will tell you of them."

"How about we ask Harry what was his last memory down in the chamber?"

"Oh - yeah, that'll be a better start I suppose." Meissa had her head tilted as if she hadn't been aware of this possibility.

Harry didn't say anything at first - probably didn't realize that they had agreed for him to share what he remembered. But eventually he did realize that they were waiting on him. "I do remember fighting but… No, sorry, that's wrong… Meissa and I entered the room after drinking the potion and I saw that it was Professor Quirrell…" Meissa nodded in agreement, this matched up with everything she had experienced so far. "Meissa started to duel with him and was… well, knocked about. She kept fighting though…" He looked at her with an expression that spoke of being unsure of what to say next. "There was a strange moment though…"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked softly to try and encourage him to continue.

"Mm… She was different… I really don't know how to describe it but she went head to head with Voldemort - survived his attempt to have her killed and gave me the chance to get the Stone."

"I don't remember going head to head with Voldemort."

Hermione frowned and looked at her friend. "What happened after you got the Stone?"

"Voldemort noticed me I guess because he threw Meissa against a pillar and turned towards me."

"And had Quirrell take the stone," Hermione reasoned out. "Meissa told me that she woke up to him screaming orders… and saw a dark cloud go through you."

"I remember that… but then the next thing I remember is waking up here."

"Alright… Professor Dumbledore," Meissa started, deciding to go straight to the heart of the subject, "lied about arriving in time to prevent Quirrell from taking the stone. Surely you remember what happened to his body."

Harry frowned as he considered her words. He remembered Quirrell trying to choke him and - he tried to force his hand back before realizing what he was capable of and taking advantage of it. And he had seen Quirrell crumble to ashes so… why did he believe the headmaster so sincerely?

"That's lie number one?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "And what's the rest?"

~MJB~

I'm actually curious if anyone noticed the seven lies or misleads Dumbledore told Harry. Let me know what's your opinion!