Chapter 12

Harry was awoken from his slumber by a faint rustling, the noise rousing him from the comfortable darkness. It took him a moment to realise he wasn't in his bed in the Ravenclaw dormitories, then the memories returned to him in a flood, his actions with Professor Quirrell… and Voldemort. He clenched his fists in frustration at being tricked so easily and let out a sharp inhale at the sudden pain as the linen bandages around his hands pressed against the tender skin.

The rustling stopped and as he pushed out his awareness, he realised the source of the noise had been the pages in a book turning, a book that was now being tucked into the pocket of the Headmaster who sat on a wooden stool at the foot of his bed. As Harry pushed himself up so that he was sitting he heard the quiet exhale and the brief widening of the aged professor's eyes and with a quick swipe of his hand across his face, realised his glasses were missing and that the professor had seen his uncovered eyes.

Harry grimaced and picked up his glasses from where they were resting on the side table next to the bed, slipping them onto his face hurriedly as he took a moment to observe his surroundings. He was in the Hospital Wing, wearing loose pyjamas, his hands were bandaged as was his chest but, aside from some tenderness and an ache on the left side of his chest, he felt fine.

His attention was drawn back to the Headmaster when he noticed him shifting on his stool before with a tap of his wand, the plain wooden stool transformed into a comfortable looking armchair.

"Ah much better." Professor Dumbledore smiled as he tucked his wand back up his sleeve and turned to face Harry from his spot near the end of the bed. "Good morning Harry, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine thanks Professor, but sir you need to know Professor Quirrell he's- " Harry began to blurt out as he realised that not only could he be in real trouble for what happened, but that if Voldemort wasn't dead then he needed to tell someone.

"Ah I am aware of Professor Quirrell's unfortunate demise, and rest assured you will not be punished for defending yourself. Now, I imagine you have many questions for me?" Harry nodded hesitantly. "Well, I will do my best to answer them, but first I must apologise Harry. I had believed that Quirinus was in league with a vampire or a similar being, and the enchantments on the Castle would have prevented the creature from stepping foot within the walls. Had I any inkling that Voldemort was involved I would have stepped in immediately, my last reports from Europe had his spirit in the forests of Albania up to a few months ago and I did not believe he would travel to Britain while still in such a weak form." Dumbledore let loose a heavy sigh as his shoulders sagged and he shook his head before continuing. "I truly believed Quirinus was simply a thrall, there are wards over the castle that should have detected a spirit possessing him."

Harry observed the seemingly apologetic older man before reaching over the bed and patting him on his robed shoulder in what he hoped was a consoling manner.

"It's okay Professor, but does this mean that Voldemort didn't get the stone? The last thing I remember is his … spirit covering me, trying to smother me in ash … in Professor Quirrell's ashes- " The moment the realisation of what had been forced into his mouth hit him, he couldn't stop his body's reaction. With a great heave he was sick over the side of the bed, bile splattering the floor as he coughed and shivered, he gripped the bedsheets tightly as he spat the last of the acrid tasting saliva from his mouth.

A shimmer of violet magic rippled out across the floor for a split second before it vanished, leaving clean stone behind it. Another ripple appeared around his face but before he could react it too vanished, happily taking the awful taste from his mouth.

"In answer to your question Harry, no Voldemort did not get the stone, you performed admirably in protecting it. I arrived just in time to witness Voldemort's attempt to suffocate you and was able to repel him, unfortunately he fled before I could trap him." Professor Dumbledore tucked his wand away again and poured a glass of water for Harry.

"Oh … so everything is okay then? What about the stone? What even is it, sir?" Harry asked as he took a sip of the water before gulping down half the glass of the refreshing liquid, his throat was still a little hoarse and the cool water was incredibly soothing.

"The Philosopher's Stone? It is a very powerful magical artifact, created by my teacher Nicolas Flamel who is quite possibly the most impressive wizard I have ever met. The stone can do many things, it is the pinnacle of Alchemy, it can be used to transform metal into gold, not transfigure but truly transform, if you were to transfigure the gold made with the stone it would eventually revert to its true form of gold. It has a few other uses but the one that I am sure Voldemort wanted it for is perhaps its least interesting, it can create an elixir which extends the life of those who drink it, restoring them to near perfect health, at least physically. Normally, only the creator of the stone or those with their blood could use the elixir, but I am sure Voldemort had some way to get around that limitation, perhaps with the Unicorn blood…" For a moment the Headmaster seemed lost in thought before Harry gave a subtle cough and the bearded professor jolted and smiled at him. "Ah you must forgive me; I am at heart a scholar and often get distracted by theories. Regardless, the stone has been destroyed, Voldemort will not be able to return using it anymore."

"What? But then your teacher, Mr Flamel, he'll die, won't he?" Harry asked.

"Nicolas is over 600 years old Harry, and his wife Perenelle is nearly as old, to them death is not a thing to fear. Besides, they have enough elixir stockpiled to settle their affairs, I doubt they shall pass on anytime soon. They likely have another decade or two, but they decided that the threat of Voldemort obtaining the stone was too great to risk." Professor Dumbledore explained and Harry calmed at his words.

"You said Voldemort won't be able to return anymore, does that mean he's gone now? He won't come back, sir?" Harry asked, though he had a terrible feeling he already knew the answer.

"I wish I could tell you otherwise Harry, but no. Voldemort will return eventually, though I believe he will require at least a year to recover from his failed efforts this time. But that is not something for you to worry about Harry, I have friends keeping watch for him in Europe. You must focus on your schooling for now." The Headmaster smiled and although his words soothed Harry's fears somewhat, he was still filled with questions.

"Professor, when Quirrell touched me he … it was like I was burning him. And if Voldemort was possessing him all year, why didn't he try to steal the stone sooner? Or kill me sooner?" Harry asked as he fiddled with the now empty glass in his hand.

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair and sighed shortly before he answered. "I will do my best to answer your questions Harry, but I must admit some of this is only educated guesswork. However, if you will forgive my arrogance for a moment, most of my guesses do tend to turn out correct. So, Quirrell could not touch you because he was bound to Voldemort, and Voldemort cannot touch you because of the magic your parents, the magic your mother in particular, invoked the night she died. Her sacrifice left you with a mark, her love for you so powerful that Voldemort could not harm you, could not even touch you after that night." Harry sniffed but was otherwise silent as the Headmaster explained what his mother had done for him. The sacrifice she had made to protect him. "As for your other questions, I believe Voldemort was afraid that it was a trap, that I had laid a trail of breadcrumbs to lead him here, to entrap him in his search for the stone. In truth I had believed that a … wariness of me and the lack of any tangible leads would prevent anyone from coming here in search of the stone." Seeing Harry's brief look of confusion, the professor elaborated. "The Philosopher's Stone was a very powerful magical artifact, and it gave off a heavy trace, for those who know how and are properly aware, it was like a beacon of powerful magic that could be sensed from miles away. However, Hogwarts is also a powerful magical beacon in its own right, and our hope was that the stone's magic would be covered by Hogwarts'. That combined with my own reputation and that of the staff, well I believed it would be enough of a deterrent for any that tracked the stone here. Clearly, I was wrong. As for the reason Voldemort did not act against you sooner, or even kill you immediately once he had you alone among the protections for the stone, well I believe he was, and still is, curious. He doesn't know what happened that Halloween night and he wants to, he needs to before he can act against you. I believe even when Quirrell tried to take the stone from you, he was still under orders not to kill you. Only once Quirrell was destroyed did Voldemort's wrath get the better of him, it has always been a weakness of his."

Harry sat quietly thinking over all the information he had been given as the Headmaster reached down beside his seat, lifting and offering a familiar item to him. "Now, Hagrid found this in the Troll's chamber and asked me to return it to you, it was luckily undamaged by the events of that night." Harry's couldn't help the relieved smile as he took the offered cane and gripped the warm wood in his hands, he had honestly thought it lost, likely destroyed by the angered Troll. "Now you have had several well wishers and visitors who I am sure would love to see how you are doing so I shall leave you to your convalescence." The Headmaster stood, tapping his chair with his wand as he did so to revert it back a plain wooden stool. "Oh, and I have spoken with your other professors who have agreed to give you a pass on the remaining practical exams you had left, though you will be given some extra work to do over the summer to ensure you haven't fallen behind."

Harry was fairly stunned by all the information he had been given and could do little but nod as the Headmaster walked away, soon replaced by the school nurse who examined his burns and had him drink several potions, none of which he recognised but all of which tasted different kinds of awful.

In the end he had to remain under Madam Pomfrey's tender care for another two days before she was satisfied that he was fully recovered. He spent the majority of those days reading books that his friends had brought in for him when they visited, he had been surprised by how many people had come to see him while he had been recovering. He had expected his close friends to come, Neville and Terry, Susan and Hannah, but most of the other Ravenclaw first years had popped in at some point, even if only briefly, to wish him well.

Hagrid had dropped by soon after the Headmaster had left to check in on him, leaving him with a new whittling knife and a block of wood to work on in case he got bored. Madam Pomfrey confiscated the sharp implement as soon as she saw it, only returning it to him when he promised not to use it while his hands were still healing.

Harry learned from his friends that very little of what had happened with Professor Quirrell had been released to the school, only that the Professor had attacked a student and would no longer be teaching at the school. Though he did learn that some of the prefects had seen Aurors investigating the third-floor corridor that was meant to be off limits, rumours abounded immediately. Somehow Harry had been left out of the majority of them, most of the school only knew him as the blind-boy-who-lived, a novelty more than anything else, likely he fell down the stairs or something.

Those that knew him better did have suspicions, but Harry was quick to change the conversation when it was raised, he had decided on the (worryingly believable) lie that he had injured himself when practicing a spell. The burns on his hands helped sell the story, even after Madam Pomfrey had unwrapped the bandages, he knew they were scarred, they certainly felt different. His left hand wasn't as bad, it was his weaker hand, and he hadn't been able to grip or hit as well with it. His right hand was another matter, it was thinner now, the skin pulled tight across his fingers, and he had been warned by Madam Pomfrey that it was visible and fairly obvious.

Luckily magic was a wondrous thing and Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal the majority of the damage, he kept his dexterity and most of his grip strength in both hands.

"Unfortunately, much like the scarring across your eyes, the magic that caused these burns is very potent. There isn't much I can do to about the scarring on your hands beyond some ointments that may help restore more blood flow to the skin. I am sorry Mr Potter." Madam Pomfrey released his hand from her own and tucked her wand away as she sighed at her inability to help further.

"It's okay Madam Pomfrey, it's not that bad anyway, I can still use my hands just fine." Harry said as he buttoned up his shirt, he was finally being released from the Hospital Wing and he didn't want to give the nurse a reason to keep him any longer. In truth he didn't mind the scarring all that much anyway, admittedly he didn't want to stand out from the rest of the school anymore than he already did, but it really wasn't that bad. Terry and Neville had gotten over the sight pretty quickly when he had lifted the edge of the bandages for them to see, and he doubted Susan or Hannah would care all that much. It couldn't be worse than his eyes and face. He could just wear gloves more often.

"Very well, but if you experience any numbness in your hands or tremors then let me know immediately. I did my best to fix the nerves but they're always tricky." Harry nodded, doing his best to hide his enthusiasm for being released from the deadly boredom of the Hospital Wing. Evidently his acting skills left something to be desired. "Oh, very well, you are free to leave, but there are two weeks left before the end of term. I will want to see you before the last day for a check-up."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!" Harry said as he slung his bag over his shoulder and began to walk away, he was free!

Harry had to admit to being a little disappointed that his Head of House and somewhat mentor, Professor Flitwick, hadn't come to visit him in the Hospital Wing during his stay there. In fact, the Charms Master hadn't been seen around the castle at all since Harry's "accident". So when Harry received a note from Jeremy that asked him to visit the Professor's office at his earliest convenience, he was so quick to set off that he nearly left his bag, only the older Prefects hand on his arm prevented him from leaving it in the Library and likely being lost forever.

All the questions that Harry had been bursting with fell away when he entered the Professor's office to find the Charms Master sat in a chair by the fireplace, one arm in a sling and bandages wrapped around the top of his head.

" -es I managed to follow the trail across the Channel but either he has allies among the Croatian's, or I had extraordinary bad luck because there was a coven of Hag's waiting for me when I stopped past Zagreb." Professor Flitwick said into the fire. Harry nearly dropped his cane when a voice emanated from the fireplace, a familiar one at that.

"Filius Flitwick, Champion Duellist, defeated by a couple of Hags?" Castamir's chuckled from the fire in response.

"Yes yes its very amusing to you I'm sure. Now, Albus has sent word to Remus who is going to keep an eye from Germany, but I know you still have friends in Sofia. Could you ask one of them to investigate? Albus is certain he will have stopped in Albania, but I have my doubts that he would risk dwelling so close to the ICW, they have a heavy presence in Delphi." Professor Flitwick asked as he stretched his working hand in Harry's direction and gestured for him to approach without looking away from the fire.

"Of course, my friend, I know a few people who could look into this for us. I will let you know what they find, now how is the boy?" Castamir asked. As Harry stepped closer, he could see that an odd framework of green and red magic had formed in the flames, like a sketch of Castamir's face, but the sketch moved, and sounds emerged from it. It was odd and fascinating, like much of the magical world Harry was beginning to realise.

"Well, he can tell you for himself, Harry I am glad you received my note. I was just catching Castamir up on all that happened over the past week." Professor Flitwick said as he leaned back in his chair and gestured at the fire.

"Harry! I'm glad to see you up and about, I heard about your unfortunate…encounter. Few can claim to have faced You-Know-Who and lived, let alone twice and all before your twelfth birthday!" Castamir exclaimed, his head bobbing in the fire excitedly.

"Uh..hi Castamir, I'm not sure it's anything to boast about really. Professor Dumbledore saved me; without him I'd be…well I wouldn't have survived." Harry said, fighting the urge to cough as the memory of ash filling his mouth filled his mind for a moment.

"Harry, I don't think you realise quite how impressive it is that you were able to last even as long as you did, you a first-year student stood against arguably the most powerful dark wizard since Grindelwald, perhaps even since before him! Nobody would expect you to be able to defeat him, but that you didn't immediately fall to him is unquestionably impressive." Castamir exclaimed and Professor Flitwick nodded at his words.

"Indeed, Headmaster Dumbledore was able to piece together much of what happened between you and Quirrell. Now while I am furious that you were put in such a position, I must confess I am immensely proud of your efforts Harry. The protections in place were designed to be difficult for a fully trained wizard, but you were able to overcome them with little difficulty." Professor Flitwick suddenly chuckled before continuing. "You even got past my challenge with laughable ease, using a spell I still can't find in any of my books, to get through a door that should have been impenetrable and unbreakable!" For a moment Harry was distracted by last words of the Professor, the book he had read the spell from was old, but it wasn't that old. The French thief's book would need another reading it seemed.

"When you put it like that, I suppose I did beat a Charms Master's best work…" Harry grinned at Castamir's guffaw and was relieved when Professor Flitwick laughed as well.

"Indeed, you did marvellously Harry, truly." Flitwick said as winced briefly from the jostling of his injured arm.

"Professor, what happened to you? How did you get hurt? Where were you?" Harry hoped the last question didn't sound as childishly needy to the professor as it had to him.

"Ah, well after the Headmaster retrieved you from the third floor, he alerted the rest of the staff to what had happened. Then he asked a few of us who could track apparition trails to try to follow You-Know-Who's trail. It was difficult, whatever that spectre could do it wasn't apparition, but it was similar enough that I managed to follow its route."

"It's called Geisterkette, only powerful spirits that aren't tied to a specific location can do it. It allows them to … metaxy… slide between? They can move closer to the spirit realm, to death, and cross great distances in that space, but its dangerous. If they linger too long, then they can't return here at all." Castamir explained.

"Ah well, he used this … Geisterkette, to cross the Channel and get into Europe. He managed to slip through the coastal wards, and they slowed me down, but I caught up to him in Croatia, well I thought I did. Instead, I was met with a coven of Hags waiting for me. They caught me by surprise, it was foolish of me; I was expecting a spirit, or another possessed wizard. The Hags managed to hex my arm before I broke through their rune nets and dealt with them. By the time I had recovered enough to continue, the trail was gone so I made my way back and that brings us back to now." Professor Flitwick reached with his wand and summoned a glass bottle from across the room, the cork floating from it as he took a sip and let out a small groan of disgust at the taste. "Skele-Gro, tastes foul but the best way to regrow missing bones which I currently have in my hand." He explained to Harry.

"Well, I think I will leave you to rest Filius, but perhaps you should let me know the next time you plan to go hunting spirits? Clearly you need my help, you might run into a pack of pixies next time!" Castamir said with a smirk before the green lines of magic that made up his face disappeared into ordinary embers that spat from the fire into the air and floated up the flue. Harry did his best to stifle his grin when the Charms Professor turned from the fire with a faux glare.

"Now, I am glad you are recovered Harry, though I am again sorry you had to suffer another scar at You-Know-Who's hands. Your aunt has been informed of what happened and knows you are safe and healed, she sent a rather scathing letter back to the Headmaster about his duty to protect the students, it was an entertaining read. I have also been asked to pass along these letters to you, they have already been translated into Braille, from a few friends who heard of what happened." Professor Flitwick gestured to two envelopes that lay on his desk. "You can pass any replies on through me, or use one of the school owls, both of them know the translation charm for Braille. Now if I am not mistaken it is nearly curfew, you should hurry back to the dormitories Harry."

That night Harry read the letters in bed before his now nightly ritual of meditating on his breathing and magic. The letters turned out to be from Alastor Moody and Percival Dearborn, the letter from the Auror was short and to the point.

Potter,

Heard what happened from Dumbledore. Good job protecting the stone. I wish I had a dozen Aurors like you twenty years ago, it would have gone differently.

Next time don't just trust the authority figure, or anyone really. You need to be watching out for danger at all times, you're a target to many Potter.

CONSTANT VIGILANCE

Alastor Moody

Harry had chuckled when reading it but quickly realised that the Auror was right, he was naïve to follow Professor Quirrell down through all those rooms. Any one of them could have been lethal and he should have realised sooner that something was wrong.

Percival's letter was a little longer and more light-hearted.

Harry,

Well done! You've got a better story under your belt at eleven years old than most of the curse breakers I work with do at twenty!

Filius mentioned you got past McGonagall's detection ward without triggering it, you'll have to tell me the whole story when I see you next. Speaking of which, we drew straws and I won so;

I, Percival Dearborn, do hereby invite you to lunch at my home on the fourteenth of August.

The usual degenerates will be there, if you agree then let Filius know and he can pick you up.

Enjoy the last days at Hogwarts!

Yours Sincerely,

Percival Dearborn II

The last few days of term had flown by, Harry spent an hour on his second-to last day being examined by Madam Pomfrey before she declared him fit to return home, though she did apologise again for not being able to do anything more about the scarring on his hands.

He had waved her apologies off instantly; he had needed to answer a few questions about them, and Terry had let him know about some odd stares, but it wasn't all that different to normal. His friends didn't treat him any differently, that was all that mattered.

The feast that night had been a loud and bittersweet affair, many students pleased to be going home to their families, while others wished to stay or to not be leaving for the last time. The Headmaster had stood and announced a few details about the departure the next day, what time the train would be leaving and what to do with trunks. Then he had announced the winners of the House Cup and Ravenclaw house had erupted into cheers at learning that they had finally broken Slytherin's streak. Professor Flitwick had lifted the cup that was nearly as tall as he was and commended the Ravenclaw's on their hard work and success. (Harry later learned from a suspiciously wobbly looking Jeremy that three Slytherin's had been caught sneaking around the third-floor corridor and had lost enough points that they had no chance to catch up in the final weeks.)

All too quickly they were all bundled onto the Hogwarts Express as it began to trundle away from Hogsmeade station. They had ridden down to the station in carriages that moved without any horses or even any magic that Harry could see, just a few charms that he recognised as being for comfort and safety, similar to what the seats at the Quidditch Pitch had cast upon them.

As the train picked up speed, the rhythmic clickety-clack muffled by the wooden panelling and magic upon it, Harry sighed as his group of friends settled into their compartment. Neville had left Hermione with Padma and Sue Li, who she had become friends with during the exams, and joined Harry, Terry, Susan and Hannah in their compartment. Susan and Hannah were playing exploding snap with Terry, his initial suggestion of Gobstones had been met with furious refusal by the girls, while Neville and Harry were discussing their plans for the summer.

"I think I'll be spending most of it at home, Gran did mention going on a trip to South America to visit Uncle Algie but that's about it. I do have some ideas for changing the greenhouses at the house, but I'll have to convince Gran to let me do it, Venomous Tentacular is technically restricted, so she'd need to buy the seeds for me." Harry shuddered at the thought of spending more time with that particular plant than absolutely necessary. "What about you Harry?"

"Well I suppose much of the same, I'll be at home for most of it. Although I did get invited to lunch at Percival Dearborn's, so that'll be fun." Harry shrugged and was about to ask what Neville's uncle was doing in South America when the Gryffindor sputtered at him.

"You… you got invited to lunch at Percival Dearborn's house?" Neville asked in disbelief.

"Well yeah, I met him at Christmas when Professor Flitwick took me to Castamir's store for dinner, Percival and Alastor Moody were there." Harry explained with a shrug.

"You met Captain Moody as well?! That's so cool!" Neville exclaimed. "I saw him once, Moody I mean, we were in Diagon Alley for clothes or something and he said hello to Gran. Then he headed down into Knockturn, no backup, just him! Crazy." Neville sagged back into his seat at the end of his retelling and sighed as if exhausted by the effort. "And Percival Dearborn is my cousin or something, Gran is his dad's cousin maybe? But he's been away from Britain for years, he's a Curse Breaker for Gringotts and he barely ever comes back here. A lot of the other families don't like him, he's the last Dearborn and he doesn't seem to care about any of the traditions, turns down all the invitations to balls and parties and such." Neville explained as Harry nodded along, that did sound like Percival.

"Huh, well I guess he's friends with Castamir through his work maybe? I only met him because I was invited by Professor Flitwick." Harry wondered aloud.

"Oh, is Castamir another Curse Breaker?" Neville asked.

"No, Castamir is an … enchanter? He runs the Copper Artifice, it's down a side street, near Obscurus Books?" Harry explained.

"Ohhh I've seen that place, Gran always said I shouldn't go in there though, said it was owned by a Dark Wizard." Neville shrugged at Harry's incredulous expression. "I'm not saying this Castamir bloke is a Dark Wizard, maybe he took over from a Dark Wizard? Or Gran might have been confused. I mean, Professor Flitwick wouldn't have taken you to meet a Dark Wizard anyway."

Harry fell into silence as he thought about Castamir and Percival. Eventually he shook himself from his introspection, distracted by the arrival of Food Trolley and his grumbling stomach.

Once the five friends had filled their bellies with sandwiches and pastries, they spent the remainder of the train ride playing games and discussing their first year. They even had a little competition, who could make the best needle from a matchstick, who could levitate the heaviest object, who could make the brightest light with Lumos.

Terry tried to convince Harry to show them the spell he had "injured himself testing" but Harry had declined, explaining it was a bad idea to conjure fire in a wooden compartment. He had demonstrated a few of the less dangerous charms he had learnt, including one that caused the compartment to sink into sudden darkness. The light streaming through the window dulled to nothing, and the compartment was plunged into immediate dark for a few seconds before the light began to filter through the window again.

It was another spell from the thief's memoirs that he had found and reread more closely in his last days at Hogwarts. The thief, a Regis De la Rue, had spent years breaking into the nobles of France before the Revolution and had successfully stolen many of their riches, devising his own spells to help him. Eventually one of the nobles decided to hire Goblins to protect their vaults. this was shortly after one of the Goblin rebellions and Gringotts had lost many of their wealthier clients during those times. Regis had managed to get past many of the protections on the vault before he was struck by a creature the Goblin's had brought in to guard the riches, the creature was defeated and Regis escaped with some of the noble's riches, but his wound was bad enough to blind him in one eye. He retired shortly after and then the Revolution sent most of the noble families fleeing to other countries or to the guillotine anyway. Regis heard about the invention of Braille in his twilight years and decided to learn and use the language to write his memoirs and record his adventures.

It was an incredible read, almost like an adventure book at points, and filled with spells and tips, so full in fact that Harry suspected it was enchanted in some way. He was sure it hadn't had as much information the first time he had read it.

Soon London came into view, and they took turns changing into more appropriate clothing, except for Harry who just took his robes off to reveal a normal looking shirt and trousers. He had decided the hassle of changing on the train was not worth it, and his clothes were close enough to the uniform that he doubted he'd be in trouble for it.

As they came to a slow screeching halt at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, they all retrieved their trunks and began to step down from the train. Harry used the last moments of freedom to levitate his trunk down and cast a charm to make it lighter before tucking his wand away with a quiet sigh. Susan stood at the edge of the platform looking ready to leap for him if he stumbled, but he stepped cleanly off and tapped his cane ahead of him as they made their way through the crowds of people waiting for their children, brothers, sisters, cousins.

"Oh I see my Gran, I'd best go, she doesn't like big crowds. I'll write to you all, we can meet up in Diagon maybe?" Neville gave Harry and Terry a one armed hug and nodded to Susan and Hannah before making his way towards a tall woman wearing a strange looking hat before they were both swallowed by the crowds.

"Oh and I see my aunty, she's picking me and Hannah up. I will write to you as well, and we will be seeing each other in Diagon." Susan said, the last part a hard fact as she stared at the two boys before both nodded. She gave them both quick hugs that left the two blushing.

"I'm not hugging you, but I will write as well, have a good summer!" Hannah said as she walked away with Susan, the both of them giggling for reasons unknown to Harry.

"Well Harry, I'm meeting my folks on the other side of the barrier like you, want to go together?" Terry offered.

"Yeah let's go, its too crowded here." Harry agreed readily as he noticed more and more people staring and pointing as whispers began to fill the space around him.

The two first-years stepped through the brick wall and found themselves in Kings Cross and ahead of them were two women happily chatting as they sat on a bench nearby. The same bench, Harry realised belatedly, that he had sat on when he had been watching the platform back in September.

Petunia saw Harry first and rushed across to him, grabbing him in a tight hug. Terry experienced the same from his own mother who kissed him noisily on the cheek much to his embarrassment.

"Oh Harry, I can't believe how big you've grown! I've missed you." Petunia squeezed him again before stepping back, though she kept one hand on his shoulder as she turned to Terry and his mother. "And this must be Terry, Harry has mentioned you in his letters, it's lovely to meet you. Your mother and I were just talking about you both, we don't live too far away, perhaps we could meet for lunch soon, right Rachel?"

Terry's mother, Rachel, nodded happily as she extended a hand in Harry's direction. "Yes yes absolutely, it's nice to meet you Harry, Terry's written a lot about you as well. Oh I'm sorry my hand -" Rachel had realised she had stuck her hand out for a seemingly blind boy but Harry just reached out and shook it easily smiling at her flustered apology.

The two women quickly agreed to call each other the following week to arrange something before they departed, Rachel and Terry heading to catch another train and Harry and his aunt making their way to the car park.

Soon they were leaving London and returning to Surrey, Petunia peppering him with questions about his year as he did his best to answer them all.

Only when they neared Privet Drive and Harry saw the great roiling curtain of red magic that he recognised as a ward did he feel his shoulders tense and a few beads of sweat form on his neck and forehead. He was home, but he didn't feel like it. In fact, as happy as he was to see his aunt, it felt more like he had left home behind back in Scotland.

They had already driven through the ward when this thought crossed his mind, if they hadn't, he might have seen the shiver that ran across the great ward. A rippling contraction that caused the wall of magic to shudder and roil dangerously before it slowly settled.

A/N And that's Year 1 finished! There will be another chapter covering the summer before we jump into Year 2. We had a little more lore dropped and some insight into Voldemort's reasonings for his actions in the last chapter. I'm doing my best to spread out the world building, I know it can be a slog to read through thousands of words of it.

Again I have to say thank you to everyone who has supported this story so far, it's amazing to see how many people have read and enjoyed what I've written and means a great deal to me, so thank you all!

I will be sticking with the fortnightly update schedule as it gives me plenty of time to rewrite and do grammar checks, but if I miss anything please let me know.

And please continue to Review, Favourite and Follow if you are still enjoying this story, and if you aren't then let me know what I'm doing wrong!

Many thanks,

Daedalus Smythe

UPDATE 18/02/2023

So I've had a few messages and reviews about one of the events last chapter and instead of answering them one by one, I thought I'd just put it here;

Harry's shield charm cannot hold off against a fully grown wizard. Voldemort was purposefully avoiding actually hurting/killing Harry up until the very end of the encounter, so he was intentionally holding back on the spells he cast to only break the shield without hurting Harry behind it. Harry is a very talented first year, but he is still only a first year. Eventually he might be able to stand toe-to-toe with the titans that are Voldemort and Dumbledore, but right now it's like a child fighting a giant. The only reason he survived, even with his mother's protection, is Dumbledore's arrival and intervention. This isnt an OP!Harry story I'm afraid.

Many thanks,

Daedalus Smythe