Harry Potter and the Shadowed Light

Chapter 8

Previously

Just as he was about to reach the door, Dumbledore called out to him, "Oh, and Harry? Do remember that if you ever need somebody to talk to, I'm always here. I wasn't lying when I said I saw you as family." The genial grandfatherly tone sold the act perfectly.

Harry actually felt slightly sick; this man had the whole world so fooled. He had them believing his act.

Nodding his head, Harry beamed. "Thank you, sir, I'll remember that," he promised.

"Off you go, then," Dumbledore replied, twinkling eyes shining with victory.

Walking the long way to Ravenclaw tower to put his cloak away, Harry tried to dispel his anger - for Dumbledore, he would gladly get over his view on torture.

Lost as he was in his dark thoughts, Harry barely stopped himself from colliding with a dark figure. Looking up, Harry nervously met the eyes of Professor Snape.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I was not paying attention to where I was going."

"Clearly," Snape said, his drawling voice reminding Harry of his last life. "You should take care to pay attention, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, standing awkwardly in front of the man.

"It is, however, fortunate for you that I had need of your presence," Snape said. "I have almost finished brewing your scar ointment. If you come by my office after dinner tonight, it shall be ready for collection."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied.

"It is of no matter," Snape said before he continued down the corridor, his black robes billowing.

Harry, reeling that his conversation had calmed him, quickly made his way to his common room and deposited his cloak in his trunk. Reuniting with his friends, Harry spent the afternoon in the library, covertly looking for any sign of a spell or ritual that could help him to reunite Tom with his sanity.

Like arranged, Harry made his way to the dungeons after dinner, Neville bravely offering to go with him. However, like in his last life, Neville was truly abysmal at Potions and feared Snape terribly, so when he offered Harry had waved him off. Harry had received a note during dinner with directions to Snape's office. Reaching it, Harry was fascinated to see that the portrait guarding it was of a young man sitting on a basilisk; after checking it out, he eventually asked the portrait to inform the professor he was here.

"You may enter," the portrait said, opening the door for Harry.

Deciding to take a chance, Harry quietly slipped into Parseltongue, "Thank you." The portrait started and stared at Harry intently as he passed.

Entering the office, Harry looked around in mild curiosity. He had never been inside it in his previous life, not even for his disastrous Occlumency lessons, and was enjoying the look into his professor's life.

"Surprised at the lack of coffins and blood?" came Snape's drawling voice. There was a slight challenge in there that Harry picked up on; though what he was challenging, Harry didn't know.

Harry turned to the sound and smiled slightly. "No sir, everybody knows that you keep the coffins and blood in your personal rooms. It's the chains and whips you keep here," Harry risked joking.

Snape seemed to freeze before his mouth twitched slightly. "And I thought I had hid that so well," he drawled.

Harry smiled and, after a beat of silence, said, "Thank you, sir, for making my ointment."

"As I have said, Mr. Potter, it is of no consequence," he said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a metal vial. "When you are running low, inform me and I shall make more before you run out."

Harry nodded and considered offering the man some money, but thought better of it; he knew Severus was a proud man and would probably take it as an insult.

"Have you an idea of how long this vial will last?" Snape asked after a moment.

Harry considered his words and wondered if this was Snape's way of asking how bad his scars were. Thinking, Harry considered how long his current vial had lasted and gave the date he thought about right, "I should last until mid October, maybe Halloween."

Severus was slightly surprised by this, but hid it well. "And you are using it correctly?" he questioned.

"Yes sir, I've been applying a small amount to each scar every night before bed," Harry told him. He was sure now that Snape was trying to find out about his home life surreptitiously.

Continuing to probe, Severus enquired, "And it is working?"

Harry, making the decision to plant more seeds of doubt in Dumbledore, nodded, "Yes sir, at least from what I can tell. It's harder for me to see the scars on my back, but the ones I can see seemed to have faded," he said.

Harry watched as Snape seemed to come to a conclusion, his face betraying nothing, but his eyes - his eyes showed his understanding at the implications and his anger.

"I see," is all he said before handing the ointment over.

Severus was shocked. If what the boy was implying was true, he had to wonder if Albus was aware; the man had insisted consistently throughout the years that the golden boy of the light was well looked and loved. He had even hinted that he was spoiled and went as far as to say that he could barely tell the difference between Harry and his father. Yet, here he was, hinting to a life that Severus himself could relate to. It made him wonder - the boy was nothing like Albus had said; had Albus lied? Which begged the question: if he had lied about this, what else was he lying about?

Taking the ointment, Harry placed it carefully in his pocket. "Thank you, sir," he said.

"You may go now," Severus dismissed, lost in his troubling thoughts.

The great hall, 31st October 1991

The next few weeks passed quickly for Harry. Unlike in his first life, Harry's flying lesson had been uneventful. Harry followed the crowd, making sure that, although it showed he was a good flyer, he didn't stand out too much. He pondered if he would even try out for the quidditch team; he did enjoy flying and the rush, but the game had lost some of its power over him. It had been a long time since had had been able to play.

Unsurprisingly, the Gryffindor and Slytherin flying lesson had not been as smooth of the 'Puffs and 'Claws. Neville, who really hadn't changed much from the boy Harry had known in his first life, baring his new found confidence, was still awful on a broom and had once again fallen. Yet, this time, Malfoy had not stolen his remembrall and tossed it; instead, he had appeared in the infirmary when Harry was visiting and returned it without comment, sending Harry a nod as he did. Apparently, he had stopped Ron from throwing it and caused the redhead to get two weeks detention.

Harry was curious about Draco's attitude this time around; he had yet to really speak to the boy, however he felt like they had an unspoken truce. Harry was glad for it, even though in his last life they had been rivals, Harry could see the blond had great potential. He was, Harry admitted, a smart wizard who had great influence and power.

After that incident, nothing seemed to happen for Harry; his lessons were extremely tedious and Harry bemoaned his fate at having to sit through another seven years of them. By the time Halloween rolled around, Harry was practically begging for something to happen. He had planned his revenge for Hermione perfectly, counting on Ron's arrogance and ignorance to once again put her in the troll's path; however, he did have a backup plan he was prepared to use if need be. With his cloak ready, Harry had spent the previous day practically praying for events to play out as they had before. Therefore, when he noticed that Hermione was absent during the Halloween feast, he had almost wept. He really was fond of his original plan.

Harry kept his eyes practically glued to the doors of the great hall, barely managing to keep his glee hidden when Quirrell came crashing in screaming about a troll.

"...I thought you ought to know," his finished with the weak statement and faked faint, happening almost exactly as they had in Harry's memories.

Like last time, the students all panicked and people started screaming.

"A troll!"

"Oh, Merlin!"

After retaining control, Dumbledore ordered the prefects to take them all back to their common rooms.

Harry, making sure to move without suspicion, used their panic to slip from the crowd, casting a silencing charm spell as he did. Once he was clear of the crowd, he quickly donned his cloak and made his way to the bathroom he knew the troll would be in. Reaching his target, Harry entered the bathroom just in time to see the troll bring its club down on the sinks. The commotion finally startled Hermione, who opened the door to her cubicle and let out an ear-splitting scream when she saw the troll. The troll turned its attention to the noise and Harry watched as she closed the door of the cubicle, locking it. Harry snorted at that and thought, 'As if a lock would help.'

In his last life, Harry had, at this point, already burst in with Ron in his attempt to save her. Now however, he sat back as the troll swung its club, watching as it easily demolished three cubicles. Hermione seemed to escape relatively unharmed and crawled from the wreckage, Harry watching as her brown eyes darted around. He moved silently to the far corner, out of view of the door just to be on the safe side as, even though he was under his cloak, he didn't want to risk being found. Turning back to the action, Harry watched Hermione's panic grow.

"Somebody, please! Help!" she screamed, once again gaining the troll's attention.

It swung again, Hermione throwing herself out of its path at the last minute. She landed heavily, a cut opening up on her forehead as a piece of broken porcelain smacked into her. Whimpering pathetically, Hermione crawled away. Reaching the corner, she turned and watched with wide eyes as the troll approached her, dragging its club menacingly. Reaching for her wand, which she suddenly seemed to remember, she stuttered out a spell that Harry recognised as being a second year tripping jinx.

Harry watched as the spell bounced off the troll harmlessly and he recalled, how like giant skin, troll skin was notoriously resilient to spells. To bring one down you should focus on their eyes, unless you have a large enough magical core. Hermione, however, didn't seem to know this and kept sending an array of first year spells, which had no effect on the troll.

Harry watched as it grew closer to its target and finally brought down its club before he turned away. He didn't see the impact, but he hurt a sickening crunch which left him feeling distinctly sick.

The doors slammed open at that point as Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell appeared.

"Oh, dear god," McGonagall whispered, seeing the carnage.

Harry picked that moment to slip out, their distraction at the scene allowing him to pass unnoticed. Making his way as quickly as he could to the tower, Harry slipped off his cloak and removed the silencing charm when he reached the tower's guardian.

"The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

Thinking for a moment, Harry answered, "Footsteps."

"Correct."

Rushing up the stairs, Harry entered the common room, slipping into place with the other first years.

"Where have you been?" asked Padma ,who was closest to him.

"Sorry," Harry replied. "I got lost, the stairs changed," he explained.

"Well, as long as you're okay," she said, relieved he had returned unharmed.

"I'm fine," Harry assured.

"Are you sure? You're looking a bit green," she commented, looking at him with concern.

Harry, thinking of that sickening crunch, barely withheld his shudder. "Yeah," Harry said. "I just never really liked Halloween."

Padma developed a look of understanding before she nodded. "Of course, I'm sorry I didn't realise," she said.

After the commotion calmed down, the Ravenclaws continued the feast in their common room, the house elves providing food and drinks for them. Harry, however, left, saying he wasn't feeling well, and, taking one look at his pale, drawn out face, the rest let him go to bed without much fuss.

Getting upstairs, Harry quickly stripped out of his clothes and entered the bathroom. He stood under the shower for a long time, his skin eventually wrinkling. Although he was glad he had gotten his revenge, Harry felt off. He kept hearing the crunch, over and over again. Eventually exiting the water, unable to feel truly cleansed, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to the mirrors, glad for the charms that kept them from becoming steamed up. Looking at his reflection, Harry didn't see anything different from what he had seen just that morning, yet he felt like a stranger. Sighing, Harry looked away and, after a quick drying charm, dressed himself in his pajamas. Getting into bed, Harry set his customary wards and spells before he slipped into his mindscape.

Harry would always remember the days that followed that fateful Halloween. Hermione had not died in the troll accident, although she would probably wish she had. Harry, however, was selfishly relieved about this fact; she was instead going to be the next resident of the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo's. Apparently, in a fit to survive, her magic had reacted accidently, causing massive damage to her already broken body. If she ever recovered, it would be a miracle on the scale of Merlin. Harry didn't care that it was selfish of him to be happy about her fate; he had finally come to terms with his actions when he thought about how her eyes had filled with greed and glee when talking about his death in his last life.

The teachers had deemed the whole affair a tragic accident and offered counselling to the students if they needed it. Many were shocked, but not really overly affected by the event as Hermione had had no friends and, as a first year, had yet to make an impact on the student population as anything other than a rude muggleborn. Ron, however, was effected as he was now being ostracized by the majority of the school as it had come out that he was the reason she had been in the bathroom in the first place. Even though the students were not traumatised by the accident, that didn't mean they would simply ignore the fact that Ron was to blame.

Another break in the repetitive dullness that was Harry's life came when he received a note from Hagrid. Harry was shocked at this as he had yet to even talk to the half-giant in this life. Taking Neville with him, they had visited Hagrid together.

"'Ello, Harry," Hagrid greeted him when he knocked on the wooden door.

"Hello, Mr. Hagrid," Harry said in a neutral but friendly tone. He wanted to believe that the half giant was innocent to Dumbledore's schemes, but he couldn't. It had been Hagrid who preached light propaganda to him in his first life, who had praised Dumbledore as the greatest wizard in the world. Harry also realised that it had been during his first tea visit with Hagrid in his first life that he had been set on the path to play boy hero. Realising that, with a barely covered growl, Harry added another name to his list of people he would have revenge against.

"Call me Hagrid, none of that mister stuff with me," Hagrid said joyfully. Seeing Neville, he asked, "Now, who've you got here, then?"

Harry watched as Neville seemed to stare at the half-giant with a mixture of awe and horror. "N-Neville. My name's Neville Longbottom."

"Good t'meet you, Neville," Hagrid said, showing them inside his hut. Showing them to his table, he produced a large tea pot. "Now then, who's for a spot of tea?"

Harry spared Neville a look of slight trepidation and accepted, "Please."

"So then Harry, I bet you're wondering why I called you down 'ere?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, taking a sip of his tea before carefully putting the toxic liquid down on the table. Shooting Neville a look of warning, the other boy quickly fumbled his cup in his haste to put in down.

"Well ya' see, originally I was going to come 'nd pick ya up for your school shoppin', but ya obviously didn't need it, so I just wanted to meet ya, really," the half giant said.

"Oh, that's nice of you," Harry replied.

A silence fell then, with Neville awkwardly patting Fang, who had come over and rested his giant head on his lap. Harry continued to pretend to drink his tea.

"So anyway, Harry, 'ow's school goin' for ya?" Hagrid asked.

"It's great, really," Harry said enthusiastically.

"I see you've obviously made friends," Hagrid said with a nod to Neville.

"Oh yeah, Neville's great," Harry said, happy to see Neville smile.

"Good, good, an' yer teachers?"

"Oh, they're all fine," Harry said. "I mean, sometimes Professor Snape can be a bit strict, but apart from that there's nothing to complain about."

"Professor Snape, eh? He's a funny one, good man, mind, but ya should watch yourself - I mean, with 'ow much he hated yer father n'all."

Harry couldn't believe Hagrid's warning. In his last life, the giant had preached Snape's innocence when Harry had suspected him about going for the stone. Yet, maybe the ploy was to get Harry suspicious so he would think about the stone?

"He's been rather nice to me, really," Harry said.

"Yeah, you even manage to get points; it's me he hates," Neville said morosely.

"Ah, well, never mind, then," Hagrid said, looking slightly confused.

Another silence fell. "So, ya managed to get all yer shoppin' done okay anyway?" he asked. "I was lookin' forward to helpin' ya, to be honest with ya."

"Oh, yes. I wouldn't have wanted you to come out of your way for me anyway," Harry said.

"No bother, I had to go to Gringotts on the 31st anyway - secret Hogwarts business," Hagrid said, winking.

Neville picked up on that. "That's the day the break in happened."

Harry could have kissed the boy; he had been wondering about how Dumbledore would reintroduce the stone. After their talk in the first week, Harry had done nothing about going after the stone, so he wasn't yet sure what he should do about it.

Hagrid started to shift as though suddenly uneasy. "Yes, well, I wouldn't know nothin' about that," he said, overly suspiciously. "Oh, would you look at the time, you boys best head off," he added hurriedly, practically throwing the boys out.

Walking back towards the castle, Neville looked at Harry with confusion. "That was odd," he commented.

"Very," Harry agreed.

Hogwarts, November 1991

The following weeks passed without much note for Harry, until the morning of November 6th. Harry was sitting at the Ravenclaw table talking to his housemates and Neville, who had decided to join him for once. He had become closer to his fellow Ravenclaws over the term; he wasn't friends as much as just friendly with the group. Sitting there, talking about the homework they had due, Harry felt more than heard somebody approach. Turning, Harry saw that Ron was standing behind him shifting slightly, obviously uncomfortable.

"Hey, mate," the redhead said.

"Ronald," Harry greeted, his voice neutral.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to have breakfast at the Gryffindor table?" Ron asked hesitantly, a hopeful look on his face.

Harry had to applaud the redhead's skill; he really was selling the image of a boy who just wanted a friend. However, before Harry could answer, the owl post came and, with it, a small brown owl that Harry didn't recognise. The owl landed in front of him, holding out its leg. Harry quickly broke apart some toast and held it out as he took the letter.

"Who's it from?" came Ron's voice, suddenly suspicious as he stared at the letter in Harry's hand.

Harry was almost glad to see that his act had failed. "I don't know yet," Harry said as he opened the letter.

Reading it, Harry fought to keep his smile from forming.

Mr. Potter,

I am writing to you on behalf of our mutual friend about the issue of your godfather.

I have taken the liberty of bringing to light his lack of trial and have started the process of getting him exonerated. This process will not be a quick or an easy one as much of my work shall have to be in secret to avoid certain outside sources interfering. Yet, I am certain I shall be successful.

It has come to my attention that you have, within your grasp, a vital piece of evidence. If you where to obtain such a piece of evidence by the end of the school year, then I foresee our chances of success increasing exponentially.

Sincerely,

Edgar Dodge Jr

Law Wizard, Dodge E & Dodge E'r

Slipping the note into his inside pocket, Harry felt a thrill go through him at the thought of having Sirius freed. If there was one person Harry trusted in his life, it was his godfather. Sirius had always tried to be there for Harry; had argued his inclusion in meeting, slipped him notes about them, given him access to books and training guides. He had fought for Harry until the day he died, even with all the restrictions he had been under.

"So?" Ron demanded, his voice coming out quite harsh.

The others shot the redhead various looks of confusion and disgust. Harry just shook his head. "I don't see what it's got to do with you," he said.

"I bet it was a fan letter," Ron said nastily. "What, Potter? Too stuck up to reply to your fans?"

Harry was confused to that leap of logic. "No, I've never received a fan letter, and I honestly don't know what I would do with one."

Ron, however, continued as though Harry had never spoken, "I bet you think you're so great sitting there with all your fans and your fame. Is that why you keep ignoring me? Because you think you're too good for me? I bet that's it!"

Harry looked around and shared incredulous looks with the rest of his year mates. "I would never think that, Ronald," Harry said, keeping his voice placating.

"My name's Ron! You're supposed to call me Ron! We're supposed to be friends!" Ron screamed, reminding Harry of the argument from their first week of school.

Neville, in a fit of bravery, stood. "Listen Ron, I think it's best if you just go," he said.

Ron seemed to make another leap in logic and suddenly turned to Neville, his red face matching his hair.

"You! This is all your fault! If you hadn't stolen Harry from me, he would be in Gryffindor!" Ron shouted.

Neville took a step back at the menacing tone Ron used. "That doesn't make any sense," the blond boy said, adopting a look of confusion.

"Yes, it does! This is all your fault!" Ron shouted, the look on his face turning from rage to triumph. "I challenge you to a wizard's duel - midnight in the trophy room!"

Before Neville could even reply, the redhead stalked off.

The rest of the table sat in silence before sudden whispers broke out.

"You're not going to go, are you?"

"A wizard's duel, how exciting!"

"He's a menace, that one."

Neville turned to face Harry, the look on his face full of anxious confusion. "What just happened?" he said.

Harry held back his laugh at how fate seemed to be determined for events to repeat themselves. "I don't know, mate," he replied.

"I don't have to go, do I? I mean, I don't even know how to duel!" Neville asked, looking slightly pathetic.

"No, you don't have to go," Harry assured.

Neville seemed to perk up at that. "He really is a git," he mumbled.

"I would just love to know what his problem with me is," Harry lied.

"Maybe you should go," Terry piped up, "teach him a lesson."

Neville looked miserable at the thought. "I don't know," Harry said.

"If you do, make sure you don't get caught," Lisa said. "We're doing quite well this year. If you got caught, we would lose so many points."

Harry just shrugged as Neville let out the barest of whimpers, an idea forming in his mind.

"Don't worry Neville, you didn't agree so you don't have to go," Harry assured once again.

That night, walking alone under his cloak, Harry approached the door on the 3rd floor corridor that he knew hid the entrance to the trials. Reaching out with his magic, Harry was not surprised when he felt the ward on the door. 'So Dumbledore had known,'he thought. The ward would alert the caster about whoever passed through it. Dumbledore had known, in his last life, that Harry and his friends had seen the cerberus. Harry searched the ward for any breaks and found a small one that he knew he would be able to manipulate if need be. However, for now, he wanted Dumbledore to think his plan had worked, that Harry was looking for the stone.

Stepping into the room, Harry watched as all three heads turned to him and sniffed before whining in confusion. Harry had taken to using scent and sound blocking charms whenever he used his cloak.

Stepping back out, Harry returned to Ravenclaw tower, making sure to detour passed the trophy room. He watched with amusement as Filch dragged a howling Ron through the corridors, muttering about dungeons and chains.

The next morning, Harry felt somebody staring at him. Looking up, Harry caught Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkling at him. Making sure to look like he was slightly nervous, Harry spent breakfast acting like a child who had seen a monster; hopefully, now Dumbledore would leave him alone as he believed Harry to be on the trail of the stone.

Hogwarts, December 1991

The next few weeks of school passed quickly. Harry continued to meet up with his friends in the library to study Defence, the group growing to include Harry, Neville, Hannah, Susan, Padma and Parvati, Anthony, Michael, Lisa, and Sue. While they worked, Harry would surreptitiously search for any hints about rejoining souls. Harry had been trying to work out a way to get a note for the restricted section, but he didn't have any teachers he could go to. Yes, his relationship with Snape was better in this life, the man even going out of his way to ask if Harry required extra ointments or potions, but Harry didn't want to ask and then suddenly find the man tracing his every movement. He couldn't risk that until he was sure of Snape's loyalties.

He had noticed that, like in his last life, Snape was suspicious of Quirrell; he had seen the man's dark eyes following the turban wearing professor with deep interest. Harry was torn; he didn't think Snape had any deep loyalty to Dumbledore any longer as he had seen the suspicion build in his eyes when he spoke to Harry, but he wasn't sure about the man's views on Tom, not Voldemort, but Tom, who had wanted to change the Wizarding world.

Harry was also torn about what to do about the stone. He had noticed recently that Dumbledore had started to watch him again, and suspected that the twinkly eyed old coot was about to make a move to ensure Harry was on the right path, so to speak. Unsure what to do, as Harry had no loyalty to Quirrellmort in his current form, Harry thought about his options.

Harry was reluctant to let him reach the stone unless he could find a way for his sanity to be returned. Having Voldemort back now, how he was last time, would be disastrous. However, Harry's going after the stone last time had resulted in Quirrell's death at Harry's hands. 'Quite literally,' Harry thought, cringing slightly.

Tuning back into the conversation around him, Harry realised he was the centre of attention.

"Hey Harry, what are you doing for Yule? Or do you celebrate Christmas?" Hannah asked.

Shrugging, Harry shut his book and put it in his bag, making sure the cover wasn't shown. "I'll be staying here," Harry said. "And, honestly? I haven't really ever celebrated either."

"Oh, don't you want to go home?" Anthony said curiously.

Harry made sure to cringe slightly before he answered, "No, I think I would enjoy it better here."

"Really? Well, I can't wait to go home. My parents and I are going to Aspen to see my cousins…," Anthony went on to tell them all about his Yule plans.

"Hey Harry, if you wanted, I'm sure I could owl my gran and ask if you could come back to the manor with me," Neville offered quietly.

Harry smiled lightly at that. Harry knew that Neville spent most of day visiting his parents and that he cherished that time. "Thank you Neville, but I think I want to stay here. Maybe next year or something?" Harry said. He was looking forward to having some alone time; not that he didn't like the friends he had made, it was just that they were still children. Yes, he was now eleven again, but he was also eighteen. He wanted some time to himself.

Neville looked slightly concerned but nodded. "If you're sure," he said reluctantly.

"I do really mean it, thank you, Neville," Harry said.

"Are you sure, Harry? My aunt would happily have you," Susan offered, having heard their whispered conversation.

Sending her a smile, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, then, but you had better owl me every other day to let me know you're okay," she said.

Laughing, Harry replied, "I promise."

A few days later, the castle emptied out as people returned home for the holidays and Harry was left alone with the few others who had remained. Like last time, this included the Weasleys. Harry was startled to realise he hadn't even spoken to the twins yet in this life and felt guilty for a moment before he realised that feeling bad was silly - they didn't even know him in this life. During breakfast on the first day, Harry, who was sitting with a 4th year Ravenclaw and two 7th years, was not remotely surprised when Ron appeared.

"Hey mate, you want to hang out?" he asked.

Harry, keeping his displeasure masked, said, "Sure, maybe. I just need to head up to the common room."

Ron gaped at Harry for a moment; clearly he had been expecting him to say no. "Really?" he asked incredulously. "Great!"

Harry kept from rolling his eyes. "Sure, there's no one else our age here," Harry said. He wondered what Dumbledore was up to; Harry had almost hoped he would stop sending Ron as, each time he had, Ron had ended up either in trouble or causing an argument.

Ron happily ignored Harry's comment. "We could play chess or go and explore the castle; I bet there's loads of things hidden here," Ron said.

Harry barely stopped him from snorting. "Whatever," he mumbled instead.

"We could go check out the dungeons now that the slimy snakes are gone," Ron said.

Harry didn't even hide his displeasure. "There's nothing wrong with Slytherins," he said.

Ron just snorted. "Right, it's okay, Harry. You stick with me and I'll show you, you just need to learn that they're evil," he said. His certainty actually made Harry feel almost sorry for him.

Harry was exhausted after finally ditching Ron after a day of the boy trailing after Harry, telling him how evil Slytherins are, how Harry really should have been in Gryffindor, and how 'don't you think Snape's been acting suspicious?'. It was like he was hiding something or going after something; at least he had figured out Ron's purpose, though. Dumbledore obviously didn't want his boy hero to forget about the stone and had sent the redhead to make sure Harry was suspicious of Slytherins and thinking about who was after it.

Thinking about the stone, Harry had come to a conclusion. He couldn't let Quirrellmort get it. Letting Voldemort return now would be disastrous, as he would return insane like he had in Harry's fourth year, and Harry refused to allow that to happen. He would rather Tom be forced to wait, wandering as a spirit, than return as an insane Voldemort. However, Harry didn't really want Dumbledore to have the stone either; he didn't want to rescue it and go through all of the trials he had last time just to have the old coot destroy it. Instead, Harry had a better idea. He would take the stone and hide it away secretly. Then, after he had fixed Tom, which he would do, he could give it to him as a peace offering for delaying his return.

With that in mind, Harry started to plan; he couldn't have to old coot growing too suspicious of him, now.

AN: Big thank you to my Beta reader miisticalwrites for taking the time to check this for me!

Remember people that reviews are always appreciated but I won't hold the story to ransom for them.

Updates should come every few days and like usual this is being posed on Ao3 under the same name.

Hope you enjoy reading

~ Annie