It was Quirrell.

"You?!" Harry gasped.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potters."

"But I thought… Snape…"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Elowen shook her head. "Wait, but no, Snape tried to kill Harry!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill him. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save me?" Harry couldn't wrap his head around it. The only thing he could think of at the moment was that Draco had been right, all those months ago when he'd insisted that Snape was not trying to kill Harry or steal anything. They should have listened.

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really… he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor winning, he did make himself unpopular… and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry and Elowen.

"You're too nosy to live, Potters. Scurrying around the school at Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in," Elowen realized, struggling against the ropes. It was no use — the ropes themselves were magical and there were no knots that she could find to try and untie.

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly." He turned away from them dismissively. "Now, wait quietly, Potters. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that they realised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he's in London… I'll be far away by the time he gets back."

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror.

"I saw you and Snape in the Forest," he blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…" Quirrell came back out from behind the Mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone… I'm presenting it to my master, but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the Mirror.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing – I thought Snape was threatening you…"

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions. He is a great wizard and I am weak—"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.

"That can't be possible," Elowen protested. "How could the Dark Lord be in the school without anyone knowing? Aren't there wards to stop that?"

"Oh, it is possible. Albus Dumbledore doesn't know everything," said Quirrell quietly. "Our esteemed headmaster lowered the wards on the school to get the Stone and the Cerberus and the troll in here. He never realized that he was allowing my master in as well." Quirrell swallowed. "He is with me wherever I go. I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me, decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…" Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand, is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?"

Harry's mind was racing. The mirror showed your heart's desire, and what he want more than anything at this moment was to keep Quirrell from getting the stone. He had to find a way to look in the mirror.

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

Elowen was still struggling to get a hand free to get to her wand. She met Harry's eyes and he flicked a look at the mirror, then back to her. His eyes flashed golden — she dismissed it as a trick of the light — the ropes around her loosened. Elowen cheered mentally as she was able to work her hand free and flick her wand down from the holster.

Harry was still inching awkwardly along the floor, trying to get in the right position to see the mirror. The flickering torchlight as he met his twin's eyes made them look golden for a split second before Elowen pointed her wand at Harry as best she could and hissed a near silent "Finite!"

She hadn't put nearly enough power into the spell. The ropes around Harry's legs fell to the floor, but he still couldn't get up without his arms.

"What does this mirror do?" Quirrell was asking. "How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to both twins' horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy… Use the boy…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes – Heir Potter, come here."

He clapped his hands once and the rest of the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked towards him.

'I must lie,' he thought desperately. 'I must look and lie about what I see, that's all.'

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the Mirror and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket – and as it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow – incredibly – he'd got the Stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry screwed up his courage and thought up a good lie, then almost immediately dismissed it. Why not use what he had already seen before?

"I see my sister," he said. "We're surrounded by our friends and other people I don't know, people who look like we do. I think — I think it's our family that we never got to meet."

Quirrell cursed again.

"How sentimental of you," he sneered. "Get out of the way, let's see if that twin of yours can give me what I want, hm?" As Harry moved aside he felt the Philosopher's Stone against his leg. Elowen was released from her bindings and passed by him, meeting his eyes. Dare they make a break for it?

But Harry hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies… He lies…"

"Heir Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted as he whipped around to glare at Harry. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

"That is what we see in the mirror," Elowen said defiantly, voice only shaking a little. "We saw it over winter break, we see the same thing."

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to them… face to face…"

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough… for this…"

Harry felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

"What the bloody hell," Elowen breathed in horror, and Harry very much agreed. He would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered.

"…it's Henry," Harry said weakly, instinctively. He tried to take a step backwards but his legs wouldn't move.

"It does not matter," the face said. "Do you see what I have become? Mere shadow and vapour… I have form only when I can share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the Forest… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He grabbed El's arm as he stumbled backwards.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. 'Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents… They died begging me for mercy…"

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly.

"Our parents would have never begged you for anything!" Elowen cried angrily.

Quirrell was walking backwards at him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching…" it hissed. "I always value bravery… Yes, children, your parents were brave… I killed your father first and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn't have died… she was trying to protect you… Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

"ACULEATA!" Elowen cried, sending a Stinging Hex at Voldemort's face. It hit and Quirrell stopped in surprise. It was enough.

Harry and Elowen ran towards the flame door, but Voldemort screamed, "SEIZE THEM!" and, next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head lessened – he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers – they were blistering before his eyes.

"Harry, how did you —?" Elowen asked as they stared.

"I don't know!"

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck – Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.

Elowen sent another hex. The pain from her own scar nearly whiting out her vision and the distraction of Harry in danger made the spell miss wildly, so she forwent the wand and simply decked Quirrell in the face to make him let go. The man stumbled back, hand over a fist sized burn on his cheek.

"Master, I cannot hold them – my hands – my hands!"

Quirrell was still kneeling on Harry's legs as he stared, bewildered, at his own palms – Harry could see they looked burnt, raw, red and shiny.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his wand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry and Elowen, by instinct, both reached out and grabbed Quirrell's face —

"AAAARGH!"

Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn't touch their bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – their only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse.

Months later, the twins would remember how brightly gold their eyes were both shining in this moment, but for now they both simply dismissed it as Harry jumped to his feet and caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Elowen grabbed Quirrell's other arm and the twins held tight. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw them off – the pain in Harry's head was building – Elowen couldn't see – they could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of "KILL THEM! KILL THEM!" and other voices, maybe in Harry's own head, crying, "Harry! Elowen!"

Harry felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down… down… down…

~~~

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Henry," he mumbled, staring at Dumbledore. Then he remembered. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick!"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I —"

"Henry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop. It was only then that he noticed the red hair spread across his sheets — Elowen's head was resting on the mattress and she was asleep.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming as he waved at the pile. He gestured at Elowen. "And your twin here has refused to leave your side since the moment she awoke." He cleared his throat, smiling genially. "What happened down in the dungeons between the two of you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

Elowen stirred and lifted her head. As she caught sight of Harry sitting up and talking, she smiled brightly. "Harry! You're awake!"

He was tackled in a hug. When El pulled back, Harry looked between her and Dumbledore. "How long have I been in here?"

"Three days," Elowen told him. "I woke up after two days, but Madame Pomfrey said there was more of a drain on your magical core."

"Yes, Mr. Ronald Weasley, Mr. Neville Longbottom and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

Harry decided not to mention the way he'd left Draco out. "But sir, the Stone —"

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

"You got there? You got our owl?"

"We must have crossed in mid-air. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you —"

"That was you."

"I feared I might be too late."

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

"You wouldn't have been if you had been here in the first place," Elowen said lowly at the same time. Dumbledore ignored her.

"Not the Stone, child, you – the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend, Nicolas Flamel…"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you?"

"What do you mean, did the thing properly?" Elowen grumbled quietly. She got no answer, and sighed. "Also, are you finally going to answer my questions now?" Harry shot her a quizzical look and she just shook her head. "He kept saying I needed to wait until you woke up."

"Better to answer both of you at once," Dumbledore said with the air of someone who'd said it multiple times. "Not to worry, Heir Potter, Nicolas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all – the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things which are worst for them."

Harry sat there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"But as I've been asking for the last day," Elowen said, "even if the Stone is gone, the Dark Lord isn't, is he? Not really?"

"Call him Voldemort, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said sharply. "Never call him by that title." His tone softened. "You should both always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Professor Snape said the name was cursed during the war," Elowen pointed out.

"We are not in wartimes anymore, my girl," Dumbledore said sagely. "There is nothing to fear by simply speaking a name."

"Right, anyway," Harry said, trying to get back on track. "Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? Like El said, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Henry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Henry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time – and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me… things I want to know the truth about…"

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"You owe us at least that much," Elowen said sharply. "Voldemort said that he only killed our mother because she tried to stop him from killing us. But why would he want to kill us in the first place?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now."

"And why not?"

"You will know, one day," Dumbledore reassured, "put it from your mind for now, children. When you are older… I know you hate to hear this… when you are ready, you will know."

Harry gave Elowen a sharp look to make her stay quiet when she opened her mouth to argue. He knew it would be no good.

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch us?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection for ever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

The twins sat quietly with this information. Dumbledore became very interested in a bird out on the window-sill, which gave the twins time to dry their eyes on the sheet.

When he had found his voice again, Harry said, "And the Invisibility Cloak – do you know who gave it back to me?"

"Ah, your father's cloak… I happened upon it at the top of the Astronomy Tower, and I thought you might like to have it returned to you." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You should keep better track of such a cloak. Useful things… your father, as I recall, used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And there's something else…"

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape —"

"Professor Snape, Henry."

"Yes, him. Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father, and Hagrid said the same thing earlier this year. Is that really true?"

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

"What?"

"He saved his life."

The twins blinked at each other. They'd expected anything but that.

"What?" Elowen asked.

"Yes…" said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace…" Dumbledore cleared his throat. "It helps, of course, that you, Elowen, look so like your mother, who Professor Snape cared dearly for, and that Henry, who looks so much like your father, at least has her eyes."

Harry tried to understand all of this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.

"And sir, there's one more thing…"

"Just the one?"

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

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes…" Elowen rolled her eyes. "Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Earwax!"

~~~

Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was a nice woman, but very strict.

"Just five minutes," Harry pleaded.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Dumbledore in," Elowen pointed out.

"Well, of course, that was the Headmaster, quite different. You're lucky I don't make you leave. Your brother needs rest."

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey…"

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only."

And she let Neville, Ron, Draco and Hermione in.

"Harry!" Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad she held herself in as his head was still very sore.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to — Dumbledore was so worried —"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

Elowen and Harry told them everything: Quirrell ("I told you it wasn't my godfather!"); the Mirror; the Stone and Voldemort. The other Sprigs were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places and, when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that," he broke off and looked to his sister, "what was it?"

"'To the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure'," Elowen quoted.

"Right, that."

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how mad the headmaster was.

"So what happened to you four?" said Harry.

"Well, Draco and I got back all right," said Hermione. "We brought Ron round – that took a while – and Neville brought him here while Draco and I went to send off that letter. We were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the Entrance Hall. He already knew – he just said, 'The twins have gone after him, haven't they?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"If you ask me, he wanted you both to go down there," Draco said. "Why else would he assume that?"

"He ought to feel terrible about it," Neville grumbled. "They could have died!"

"He's a strange man, Dumbledore," Harry mused. "I think he sort of wanted to give us a chance."

"Harry, please don't make excuses for him," Elowen said. "I think he knows most everything that happens in this school, and he could've done something about the whole thing before we got involved. I don't think it was an accident that we found the Mirror and then he taught us how it worked. It's almost like he wanted us to face the Dark Lord."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's barking, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course —"they all ignored Draco's smug expression— "you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you – but the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly, and made Elowen leave as well.

~~~

After a good night's sleep, Harry felt nearly back to normal.

"I want to go to the feast," he told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many sweet-boxes. "I can, can't I?"

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said sniffily, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realise how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh good," said Harry. "Is it my sister?"

Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him and burst into tears.

"It's – all – my – ruddy – fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. "I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know an' I told him! Yeh an' yer sister could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!"

"Hagrid!" said Harry, shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. "Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is the Dark Lord we're talking about!"

"Yeh could've died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' call 'im tha'!"

"THE DARK LORD!" Harry bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm not calling him something that takes twice as long, I don't care if people think I shouldn't." He sighed. "Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads…"

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present, fer tha' sister o' yours too."

"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Harry anxiously and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

"Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead – anyway, got yeh this…"

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos… Knew yeh didn' have any… D'yeh like it?"

Harry couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.

~~~

Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing-about, insisting on giving him one last check-up, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat next to his sister and Ron, across from Neville and Hermione, at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.

"How long do you think we'll be hearing about this win from Draco?" Harry asked his friends.

Ron snorted. "We'll be lucky if we stop hearing about it before the next end of year feast."

Dumbledore arrived moments later. The surrounding babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…"

"Should he really being saying that, as a teacher?"

"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry could see Draco banging his goblet on the table, and had to laugh.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

"He wouldn't…" Hermione breathed.

"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…"

The five Gryffindor Sprigs felt a horrible dread start to rise up.

"First – to Mr Ronald Weasley…"

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with bad sunburn.

"…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Ron's mouth fell open in an odd mix of pride and horror as Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other Prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second – to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves – they were a hundred points up.

"Third – to Heir Henry Potter and Heiress Elowen Potter…" said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house thirty points each."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points – exactly the same as Slytherin. They had drawn for the House Cup – if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent. "Fourth — to Heir Draco Malfoy, for the admirable loyalty and assistance to his friends in the face of danger, I award Slytherin house thirty points."

The cheers from the Slytherin table were muted and hesitant — everyone in the hall could tell Dumbledore wasn't finished. Elowen met Draco's eyes from across the hall — the blonde looked furious and Elowen tried to apologize with a look.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand with our friends. I therefore award forty points to Heir Neville Longbottom, for the demonstration of his House traits and the cool application of what he's learned to help his friends."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He'd never won so many points for Gryffindor before. The Sprigs were perhaps the most subdued group at the table, but even they couldn't help being excited. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Nott, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind curse put on him.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape's feelings towards him hadn't changed one jot. This didn't worry Harry. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.

~~~

Harry had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. Both he and Ron passed with good marks, a fact they attributed almost entirely to Hermione's rigorous study schedule. Hermione, of course, was top of the year, as they all expected, with a Ravenclaw at second of the year, and Draco at third. Elowen sat comfortably at 7th in their year. Neville had passed with better marks than any of them expected, his excellent Herbology mark making up for his less than stellar wand-work.

They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.

~~~

The day before they were due to leave, the twins were called into Dumbledore's office once more. McGonagall stood behind the headmaster.

"Ah, children, please, come in and have a seat," Dumbledore said. "Lemon drop?"

"No thanks," Elowen shook her head. "What do you want?"

"At the beginning of the year, your brother said something to me that I found greatly concerning," Dumbledore began. "That the two of you did not return to your relatives after Professor Snape took you school shopping, and you spent the rest of the summer unsupervised in Diagon Alley?"

"I wouldn't say we were unsupervised," Harry answered. "Tom the bartender made sure we were fed and Mr. Fortescue watched over us when we were in his shop."

"Yeah, and it's not as though we didn't see other kids around the Alley without their parents," Elowen added.

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore said serenely, "you understand that we cannot allow the two of you to stay in the Alley alone again."

"I do hope that you weren't planning to go back to the Alley," McGonagall added.

The twins said nothing. They had in fact been planning on just that.

Dumbledore must have read something in their faces because he sighed and said, "Professor McGonagall here will meet you at Platform Nine and Three Quarters and escort you back to your aunt's house, where she will see you safely inside."

"You can't make us stay there," Elowen argued. "You're the headmaster, but you don't actually have any authority over us outside school."

"Actually, my dear, as with all muggle-raised students, I am in fact, your magical guardian," Dumbledore told her, "and I do have the authority to make you stay with your aunt, where it's safe."

"So Professor McGonagall is going to drop us off at the Dursley's front door?" Harry asked.

"That is correct, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied.

"Great. Can we go?" He was already standing, pulling El up with him. "It's just, we've got a lot of packing to finish."

"Yes, yes, you're dismissed." Dumbledore smiled. "Have a wonderful summer."

"How dare he tell us what to do?" Elowen raged as they headed back towards Gryffindor tower.

"El, calm down," Harry sighed. "I have a plan."

She gave him an unimpressed look. "And what's that?"

"We stay there for two weeks," Harry said, "just to be sure no one is watching us, and then we leave again and go back to the Leaky Cauldron."

Elowen thought it over, then finally nodded. "Alright, but we've got to figure out how to make Aunt Petunia give us an actual room."

~~~

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them in groups down to the small army of carriages that would take them down to the village train station; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express and speeding past the countryside. Draco, Neville, Ron, Hermione and the twins spent the ride laughing and talking and eating Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones stopped by to talk to El and Neville; Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass stopped to say hello to the Sprigs and left with Draco to go sit with the other Slytherin first years. All too soon, they were pulling off their robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "all of you – I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry. "We'll need something to look forward to."

"I'm sure Gran would love to have you visit," Neville added. "We're going to be out of the country for a few weeks, but I'll send letters!" He separated from the group as he saw his grandmother and waved goodbye, and it was just the twins, Ron and Hermione.

People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

"Bye, Henry, Elowen!"

"See you, Potters!"

"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at them.

"Funny how they like us now," Elowen remarked. "In any case, we're not famous where we're going, I promise you."

They all passed through the gateway together.

"There he is, Mum, there he is, look!" It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.

"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mum! I can see —"

"Be quiet, Ginny, it's rude to point, and remember, his name is actually Henry."

Mrs Weasley smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the jumpers, Mrs Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Are you ready?"

It was Professor McGonagall, looking very stern and out of place in the hustle of the train station. Molly smiled in confusion.

"Is your family not here to pick you up?" she asked the twins.

Elowen sighed. "Professor McGonagall is here to escort us back to our Aunt's house."

"Oh."

Elowen waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron and dragged her trunk over to McGonagall. Harry hung back to say a few last words to Ron and Hermione.

"See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have, er, a good holiday," said Hermione, looking uncertainly at a scowling Elowen and a stern McGonagall.

"Oh, we will," said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "Our relatives don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home, we're going to have a lot of fun with Dudley." He shrugged. "We plan on going back to Alley after a few weeks, we'll write and let you know. You can come visit!"

And he gave a cheery wave and joined his sister and professor, disappearing into the crowds.

~~~

A/N

And that's the end of first year!

Next up is summer, in which several things happen, and then we're off to second year, where things are very much not calm and easy! (I apologize in advance for what I am about to do)

I've been picturing Francesca Capaldi from like, when she was the face of Claire's, as what Elowen looks like, just picture Francesca with green eyes instead of brown.

The stinging hex does not have an incantation that I could find so I made one. It's the Latin word for stinging, aculeatum, just a bit shortened. This will probably happen for several of the spells we don't get incantations for so I will try to keep track of them in the notes.

Aculeata - Stinging Hex