Chapter 3

"Quirrell," Harry said, staring into the room he found himself in. The room was roughly rectangular with tiered levels and a sunken center. In the center was Professor Quirrell, standing in front of a mirror. Quirrell, hearing Harry speak, turned around.

"Why do you not sound surprised?" Quirrell asked, curious. Quirrell didn't speak with his usual stutter. Instead, his voice was sharp and cold. "I thought Snape was trying to steal the Stone for a long time, but seeing the troll back there had me wondering about the one at Halloween. That was you! You almost killed us!" Harry said, boldly. Quirrell chuckled darkly. "Almost. I was hoping the troll would kill you, even if it was unlikely. I have a special affinity for trolls you see. But Severus was on to me from that moment on. I couldn't get the Stone that day. But no matter, I will get it today. And with no interruptions from you, I might add."

With one wave of Quirrell's wand, he bound Harry with ropes. Another wave floated him down to the center of the room. Quirrell left him propped up against the wall and turned back to the mirror. Now that he was close, Harry gazed at the mirror with a jolt of recognition. It was the mirror of Erised. Harry knew that he needed to get out of the ropes and stop Quirrell, but he needed to distract Quirrell in the meantime. "I really thought it would have been Snape. He tried to kill me-" Harry began.

Quirrell interrupted him. "No, I tried to kill you. Your friend, Granger, pushed me over as she ran by to set fire to Severus' robes. As amusing as that was, she broke my eye contact, thereby saving your life. I would have killed you sooner if not for Severus trying to save your life."

Harry was shocked. "What?" he asked. "But Snape hates me!" Quirrell chuckled. "Oh yes. He does hate you. He went to school with your father you know. They absolutely loathed each other. But not enough to want you dead it seems. He was muttering the counter-curse the entire time. It was so convenient to me, having Snape around. With him around, nobody would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering, P-P-P-Professor Quirrell," Quirrell said with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Now stop talking, I need to study this mirror." Quirrell began examining it, going around to the back.

"But someone was on to you, right? I heard you sobbing in a classroom the other day," Harry asked, wanting to stall Quirrell some more. Quirrell appeared around the corner, looking pale. "That was my master, the Dark Lord. Sometimes it is hard to do what he asks…" Quirrell said, trailing off. Harry immediately went pale. "Voldemort was there that day?" Harry asked, shocked.

Quirrell reached up and patted his turban. "He is always with me. Now be quiet!" Quirrell ordered. He looked into the mirror greedily. "I see myself presenting my master with the stone. But where is it?" Quirrell muttered to himself.

All I want in the world is to get the stone before Quirrell does, Harry thought furiously. Maybe if I look in it I will see where the Stone is located. Harry inched over, so that he could look into the mirror, but he was bound too tightly to move quietly.

While he was trying to move over, Quirrell was still trying to figure out the mirror. "Should I break the glass? Master, help me! What should I do?" Quirrell asked seemingly no one. "Use the boy," a voice said, coming out of nowhere. Harry paused, scared. Quirrell turned around, waved his wand, removed the ropes from Harry, and dragged Harry over in front of the mirror. "What do you see?" Quirrell said harshly. "And don't even think about lying. He will know!"

Harry looked into the mirror and saw himself, a scared, scruffy boy. But then his reflection smiled, reached into his pocket, and took out a ruby red stone. He held it out to Harry, then put it back into his pocket. As he did so, Harry felt something heavy in his pocket. Harry looked at the mirror, shocked. Did it just-, Harry thought. "What do you see boy?" Quirrell asked forcefully. Harry, trying to come up with a lie, thought of what he saw the last time. Focusing on his parents, he said, "I see my parents. They are standing behind me." Quirrell shoved Harry out of the way. "Useless. I will do this myself."

On the ground, Harry pulled himself up, about to make a break for the doorway. But as he was about to run, Harry heard a voice. "The boy lies. His shields are good for one so young, but he is nothing compared to me." Quirrell spun around, furious. "What did you see?" Quirrell yelled, advancing on Harry. Harry braced himself, about to run again, but found himself frozen to the spot as he heard the voice one more time.

"Let me see the boy," the voice said. Quirrell reached up to his turban. "But master, you are not strong enough," Quirrell said. "I am strong enough for this." Quirrell unraveled his turban, turning around as he did. Harry stared at the back of Quirrell's head, scared. Where there should have been bare skin, there was another face. Staring out of the back of Quirrell's head were two red eyes and slits for a nose. It was the face of Lord Voldemort.

"Look at what I have become. Once the greatest wizard in the world, now reduced to possessing bodies in order to keep myself alive. But there is a way to give myself a body. And it resides in your pocket. Give me the Stone!" Voldemort shouted. Harry stumbled backwards, suddenly able to move, fell to the ground.

"Don't be a fool," Voldemort hissed. "Better to join me than die, or you will meet the same end as your parents; on your knees begging me for mercy." Harry looked up furious. Voldemort chuckled. "Ah, how touching. Such bravery. Your parents had that in spades Harry. I killed your father first. He put up a good fight, but he fell, as all do before me. But your mother didn't need to die. She died protecting you. Don't let her die in vain and give me the Stone," Voldemort coaxed.

Harry sprang to his feet. "NEVER!" he shouted, then turned and ran to the door. Behind him, he heard, "SIEZE HIM," and heard Quirrell running after him. Quirrell grabbed Harry by the arm, pulling him back and to the ground. Immediately, Harry's head burst into pain, centered on his scar. Harry yelled out and started to struggle, trying to break free. Quirrell screamed and let go of Harry. Right before Harry's eyes, Quirrell's hand broke out in blisters. "Master, my hand! What is happening?" Quirrell asked, in pain.

"Ignore it! Kill him!" Voldemort cried. Quirrell reached into his robes for his wand. Harry, thinking desperately, jumped at Quirrell, grabbing both his arms. As he did so, Harry's head erupted into pain. Quirrell cried out in agony, shaking Harry off. "Kill him!" Voldemort bellowed. Harry watched Quirrell's arms break out in blisters again. My touch causes him pain, Harry thought. While his touch makes my head hurt, this might be my chance. Determined, Harry grabbed Quirrell's face, hoping to stop him. The pain in Harry's head began again, stronger than ever. But Quirrell was in as much pain, if not more.

His face began to blister underneath Harry's hands. Quirrell flung himself around, trying to throw Harry off. Harry wrapped his legs around Quirrell's arms, keeping him from reaching his wand. The pain in Harry's head was building, to the point that his vision began to black out. "Kill him! Kill him!" Voldemort kept screaming. Harry felt himself pulled off of Quirrell and knew that he had lost. He fell backwards and passed out.

Harry was dreaming. He was playing Quidditch and the Snitch was right in front of him. He tried to reach out to grab it, but his arms were too heavy. Harry blinked, and the Snitch was gone. Instead, he was reaching for a pair of glasses. He blinked again, and woke to see Professor Dumbledore, smiling down at him. "Welcome back, Harry. You gave us quite a scare there," Professor Dumbledore said. Harry stared back up at him, confused. Then, remembering, he sat bolt upright.

"Professor! Quirrell, the Stone…Voldemort…" Harry said, disjointed. Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to comfort him. Don't worry my boy. Quirrell does not have the Stone. I assure you, all is well." Harry laid back down, looking around the room. He was in the Hospital Wing and was surrounded by mountains of candy. Dumbledore, noticing that Harry was looking at the candy, chuckled. "A few tokens from your friends and admirers. Naturally, since it was a secret, the whole school already knows what happened between you and Professor Quirrell. I believe it was your friends Messer's Weasley that tried to send you a toilet seat, but Madam Pomfrey confiscated it. I don't believe she thought it to be quite hygienic enough." Harry smiled to himself.

"How long have I been out?" Harry asked. "Around three days. Your friends, Ms. Granger, Mr. Longbottom, and Mr. Weasley have been quite worried. They will be happy to know that you are awake," Dumbledore answered, while he was looking around in Harry's candy.

"Sir, what happened to the Stone?" Harry asked. Dumbledore looked up. "I see that you are not distracted. Very well, the Stone. Quirrell never managed to get it. Although you were doing a very good job of keeping it away from him, if I say so myself."

"So you got Hermione's letter?" Harry asked. Dumbledore shook his head. "We must have crossed in midair. As soon as I got to the Ministry, I had a feeling that I was needed here. And if there is one thing I have learned in my years, it is to listen to my intuition," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I got there in time to pull you off of Quirrell."

"It's a good thing you got here when you did. I don't know if I could have kept him away from the Stone any longer," Harry said. "You misunderstand me Harry. You almost died. I got there in time to save you, not to save the Stone.. For a moment there, I thought I wasn't," Dumbledore said, looking away. "Thankfully I was. As for the Stone, it was destroyed," Dumbledore said, looking grave.

Harry was shocked. "But Sir! Doesn't that mean Flamel and his wife will die?" Dumbledore looked sad. "Yes, Nicholas and Perenelle will die. We talked, and he believes that it is for the best. They have enough Elixir to set their affairs in order, then they will die. To one as old as they, death is but the next great adventure. They are ready," Dumbledore said, smiling softly.

Harry sat back, thinking. Dumbledore, waiting for Harry to ask his next question, hummed softly, again looking through Harry's candy. "Sir, since the Stone is destroyed, won't Volde- I mean, You-Know-Who-" Harry started to say, before Dumbledore interrupted him. "Call him Voldemort Harry. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself," Dumbledore said. Harry nodded slowly. "Okay, won't Voldemort find some other way to come back? He is going to try again, isn't he?"

Dumbledore nodded, slowly. "Yes, he is likely to attempt to gain a body again. Thankfully you were there this time. Maybe someone else will be there next time, and the time after, and again. If this happens, maybe he won't ever come back. We can only hope."

Harry nodded. "Sir, I have some questions. If you can, I'd like to know the truth," Harry said, hopefully. Dumbledore sighed. "The truth. Truth is a very powerful thing Harry. I may not answer your questions fully, but I will not, of course, lie."

"Okay. Voldemort, down in the dungeons, said that he didn't need to kill my mother. Why did he want to kill me? What is so special about me?" Harry asked, looking down. Dumbledore sighed. "That is a complicated question Harry. For now, suffice it to say that there is something special about you, something powerful," Dumbledore said. Harry looked up at Dumbledore, surprised. "Me? I'm not all that special. I'm certainly not powerful," Harry said. Dumbledore smiled gently. "Don't sell yourself short Harry. It is not anyone who can take on a full grown adult and come out the better for it. Especially when said adult is Voldemort"

Harry looked away, not knowing what to think. "Okay, why couldn't Quirrell touch me?" Dumbledore smiled at that question. "Ah Harry, that one I can answer. When your mother died for you, she left a mark on you," Dumbledore began. Harry, listening, reached his hand up to his scar. Shaking his head, Dumbledore continued, "No, not a visible mark. To be loved so completely leaves a protection even after the one who loves us is gone. Voldemort, who has never known love, doesn't, and won't, understand this. Quirrell, who let Voldemort into his body and soul, couldn't bear to touch someone marked by such love. It is agony, physically, to touch someone like that," Dumbledore said gently. At that, Dumbledore looked away for a moment, giving Harry a chance to collect himself.

Harry, whose eyes had teared up hearing about his mother's love, dried his eyes on his bedsheet. When he found his voice again, he asked, "Do you know who sent me the Invisibility Cloak?"

"I have to confess, that was me. Your father left it in my possession when he died. I thought it best to return it to you. Your father tended to use it to sneak out to the kitchens, along with other, shall we say, less than innocent adventures. I hope you use it for better purposes," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. Harry looked at him with wide eyes. "Really?" Harry breathed out. "That cloak was my dad's?" Dumbledore smiled gently, nodding. "Wow," Harry said softly.

After a minute, Harry looked back up at Dumbledore. "There is something else, Sir," Harry said. Dumbledore gestured for Harry to continue. "Quirrell said Snape" Harry began. "Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore chided. Harry nodded. "Right, Quirrell said Professor Snape hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

Dumbledore sighed. "They did rather abhor each other, not unlike you and Mr. Malfoy. But then your father did something that Severus could never forgive." Harry looked confused. "What did he do?" Harry asked. "Your father saved Severus' life, at great risk to his own." Harry looked up at Professor Dumbledore, shocked. "What? He did?"

Dumbledore smiled. "He did. Severus does not like owing anyone, which is probably why he spent so much time this year trying to keep you safe. I believe he was trying to pay off his debt through you. He wanted to go back to hating your father's memory in peace." Harry tried to understand, but is made his head hurt, so he stopped.

"Thank you Sir. I just have one more," Harry said. "Just one more? Well, go ahead then," Dumbledore said. "Well, I was wondering how I got the Stone out of the mirror," Harry asked. Dumbledore grinned down at him, looking proud. "I was hoping you would ask me that. It is one of my best ideas. And that is saying something, if you don't mind the brief arrogance. The only way you could get the Stone is if you weren't going to use it. Otherwise you would just see yourself using it in the mirror. And knowing what the Stone does, it takes a special person to want it, but not to use it," Dumbledore said, smiling at Harry. Harry looked down, smiling.

"Now, better topics. I'm sure you noticed me looking through your collection of candy. I have quite a sweet tooth. If you don't mind, could I have some of your candy?" Dumbledore asked, chuckling. Harry nodded. "Excellent. What about a Bertie Bott's Bean? When I was younger, I had the misfortune of eating a vomit-flavored one, and since then, I have been rather reluctant to eat one. But I think a toffee flavored one will work well," Dumbledore said, picking out a Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Bean. Dumbledore bit into it, then spit it out quick. "Well, that was disgusting. Earwax," Dumbledore said with a disgusted look on his face. Harry looked at him, then burst out laughing. Dumbledore joined in heartily.

Over the next few days, Harry had no shortage of visitors. He had many people that he didn't even know come in and wish him a speedy recovery. Ron, Hermione, and Neville came in as well. Harry told them everything that happened down in the dungeons. While nothing was ever said, it was now assumed that what had been a trio of friends was now a quartet. Every time Ron and Hermione visited, Neville came as well.

Hagrid also came by, trying to apologize for his part in telling Quirrell about Fluffy. He felt so bad that he gave Harry a present. "What is it Hagrid?" Harry asked, turning over the badly wrapped package. Hagrid smiled, his beady eyes twinkling. "I knew that you don't have much from your parents, so I sent owls out to people who might have pictures of them. I think I even have a few of baby you in there…" Hagrid said, drifting off. Harry's eyes began to water. He looked up at Hagrid, unable to speak. Hagrid smiled gently at Harry, patted him on the arm, and left the Hospital Wing. Harry spent the next few days looking through each picture, memorizing his parents' faces.

The last day of term, Harry, who had just been let out of the Hospital Wing, was up in his dorm packing. He made sure that the photo album was carefully wrapped up, and looked around his bed for anything he missed. On the nightstand next to his bed, Harry noticed the puzzle that he had been working on. I almost forgot about that, Harry thought. Hagrid's gift had practically driven the puzzle from his mind. Since the half completed tower wouldn't fall apart, he placed that in his trunk. He also wrapped up the pieces and placed them next to the puzzle. Finally finished with his packing, he went down to the Common Room to head down to the feast with his friends.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville walked into the Great Hall which was decked out in Slytherin green and silver. Back behind the Head Table were the points that each House had. Gryffindor had 312, Hufflepuff had 352, Ravenclaw had 426, and finally, Slytherin had 472. Harry, who had been looking at the points, looked over at Hermione, shocked. "How did we get behind the Puffs? We were ahead of them last time I looked at the points," Harry said. Ron chuckled. "It's not funny Ronald! Professor McGonagall took a bunch of points from Fred and George because they blew up a toilet to send you that toilet seat," Hermione said, shaking her head. Harry, Ron, and Neville looked at each other, and burst out laughing. Hermione shook her head again, then chuckled with them.

As soon as everyone had taken their seat, Dumbledore stood up. The chatter died down as all the students looked up at him. "Well, that's another year gone. Before I get into the awarding of the House Cup, I hope you will indulge me in a couple of words. You are about to head away from here and probably forget everything you learned this year," Dumbledore said. Everyone laughed at this. "And that's okay. That just leaves your minds empty to learn next year!" Dumbledore said, laughing. "But in all seriousness, I am proud of the effort you all put in. The test scores were very good this year. So well done everyone. Now, on to what you all want to hear. As you can see, the scores are posted behind me, but some changes need to be made," Dumbledore said. At this, the students looked up at him confused. The teachers smiled behind him.

"You are all aware of events that took place a few days ago. And because of those events, we need to award points. To Mr. Ronald Weasley, I award 50 points for the bravery and courage that it takes to sacrifice yourself for the ultimate good. Thank you Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. Gryffindor cheered, and Ron ducked his head down, his ears turning red.

"Second, to Ms. Hermione Granger, I award 50 points for the use of logic in the face of fire, quite literally I might add. Thank you Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said. Again, Gryffindor erupted in cheers. They were a hundred points up! Harry noticed that Hermione had buried her face in her arms; he suspected that she had burst into tears.

"Third, to Mr. Harry Potter, for cool nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor 60 points. Thank you Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said smiling. Gryffindor erupted into cheers once more. Those that could count while screaming themselves hoarse knew that they were now tied with Slytherin for first place! If only Dumbledore had given Harry one more point…

"And finally," Dumbledore began, causing a deafening silence among the students. "It is difficult to think straight in a tense situation, but even harder when your friends' lives are in danger. For the ability to think clearly in a dangerous situation, I award 25 points to Mr. Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore said. Whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by the eruption that came from the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw table. Slytherin had won for 6 years in a row, so everyone wanted to see them defeated. Harry looked towards Neville, and could not see him because he was surrounded by so many Gryffindor's congratulating him.

"Well done Gryffindor," Dumbledore said, which no one heard. He waved his wand, changing the decorations in the Great Hall into red and gold to signify the win by Gryffindor.

After the feast, the students returned to their common rooms. Professor McGonagall followed the Gryffindor's, and stood in front of them to speak. "I have your exam results for everyone but the Fifth Years and Seventh Years. Seventh and Fifth Years, your results will come around the first week of August. Everyone else, please stand with your year so I can hand out your scores," McGonagall said. Harry gathered with the rest of his year, talking about how each of them did.

Once Harry got his results and opened them, he was pretty confused. He looked up and noticed that McGonagall was still standing there. "This may look confusing to you all. Up until this points, you have been getting percentage scores on your homework and exams. In the Wizarding World, we generally use a different grading system than most Muggleborns are used to. If you get an O, which stands for Outstanding, that means you have 88% or higher. If you obtained an EE, Exceeds Expectations, that means that you got between a 73-87%. If you got an A, Acceptable, that's somewhere between a 60-73%. A P, Poor, is somewhere between 46-59%. A D, Dreadful, is between 30-46%. If you managed to get less than 30%, then you got a T, Troll," McGonagall explained.

Hermione raised her hand. "Why do you not use this system at the beginning?" Hermione asked. "Most students are either not used to grades at all, or are too used to the Muggle system, so we usually use that for First Year, when you have other, more important things, to focus on," McGonagall explained. "Any other questions? Okay, last thing. You will notice that you have a class placement on your exam results. That is just among your House. We do not do a school placement until your OWL results." With that McGonagall turned and left the Common Room.

Harry looked back at his results and noticed that he did fairly well. He had 5 O's and two EE's. He even placed second in his house! Of course Hermione placed first. He and his friends discussed their scores for a bit before going to bed. Ron and Neville also did well, enough to move on to next year. They all went to bed reflecting back on the year. Harry had made some amazing friends, learned more about his parents, and discovered that he was actually kind of smart. He was not looking forward to going back to the Dursley's.

As Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville left the train at Kings Cross station the next day, they all looked at each other. "You all need to write me this summer. It's just me and my Gran, so I need something to help with the boredom," Neville said grinning. They all laughed, gave each other hugs, and then walked towards the barrier. Neville saw his Gran first, and yelling goodbye, ran off towards her. Harry saw his relatives next. They were huddling off in the distance, looking disdainfully at anyone who looked different.

"Will you be okay Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry grinned, broadly. "Oh don't worry. They don't know we can't use magic in the summer. I am going to have so much fun," Harry said with a smirk. Hermione and Ron laughed, and Harry set off. When he reached the Dursley's, Uncle Vernon grunted, Aunt Petunia sniffed, and they turned around and walked to their car. Dudley was grabbing his behind as he walked towards the car. Harry dragged his trunk behind him. Uncle Vernon opened the boot and helped Harry with his trunk, then they got into the car.

When they got back to Number 4 Privet Drive, Dudley bolted out of the car, holding his rear. Harry chuckled under his breath as he also got out of the car. Vernon opened the boot, and then turned to Harry. "Listen boy. I will not have any of that freakishness under my roof," Vernon said, spraying spittle on Harry's face. "That trunk will go under the stairs as soon as you get inside, no buts. Do you hear me?" Vernon said harshly.

Harry nodded his head, but asked, "Can I please get my clothes out first? I packed all of them when I left for Hogwarts-" Vernon interrupted him. "Don't say the name of your school in my house!" Vernon whispered loudly. Harry, looking stricken, apologized. "Sorry Uncle Vernon. But can I get out my clothes please first?" Vernon nodded, then turned around and went into the house. Harry spent a few minutes trying to get his trunk out of the boot, and finally managed it. He dragged it into the house and saw Petunia holding open the door under the stairs. "Hurry up boy! I don't have all day!" she shrieked.

Harry got his trunk under the stairs and opened it up. He grabbed his clothes, making sure to hide his puzzle and his photo album in the bundle. "Okay Aunt Petunia, I have my clothes," Harry said, walking out of his old room. Petunia slammed the door closed, locking it behind her. "If you have any dirty clothes, you can wash it yourself. I am not washing your freaky clothes," Petunia said, harshly. Harry nodded, and walked up the stairs to his room. He put his clothes away in the wardrobe, making sure to hide the puzzle and his album.

Over the next few weeks, Harry worked on his puzzle in the night when the Dursley's were asleep. He knew that if Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia found it, they would throw it away. He made significant progress on it, and finally, he was down to a few pieces left. Harry felt great anticipation as he was putting the final pieces together. He had been working on this for months, and he was just about done. Harry put the final piece of the puzzle together, finishing the wooden tower. Harry had enough time to notice that the tower was carved with weird markings before a flash of light came from the tower, blinding Harry.

Author's Note

Hey everyone! I hope you like this chapter. This is kind of an odd chapter. It kind of bridges the stuff that is mostly the same between this story and Jo's story, and the stuff that I will be changing. Starting Second Year, things will begin to drift farther and farther away from canon. A lot of the major events will still be there, but the way Harry handles them will be different, which will change how things play out.

Anyway, I hope you all like this. Please, review. Let me know what you think!

Oh, and again, anything you recognize is not mine. I just play around with Jo's world.