AN: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding World Universe.

Chapter 19

Harry became aware of something shaking him hard. He didn't want to open his eyes. "Potter, Potter," a voice called urgently. "Harry Potter," it called again.

Harry opened his eyes and wished he hadn't. He was on his side, which seemed to make the room spin. A red-faced boy was standing over him. It took a moment for Harry to realize it was Longbottom, but only his head.

As soon as Harry's sluggish brain registered that another student was there, Longbottom screamed and fell on Harry.

"Longbottom!" Quirrell's voice hissed.

Harry realized he could move his arms and wasn't in the chair anymore.

"The Full Body-Bind is only for weak witches and wizards. I am so much more," the professor laughed. "Master… Master?"

Neville rolled over and cried, "Flipendo!" as he pointed his wand.

Harry felt his wand in his pocket and tried to get it, but his body wouldn't respond. He looked from the polished, pale, almost white fine-grain wood of Longbottom's wand to his face. The Gryffindor was terrified. Harry was too.

"Easily blocked," the professor laughed. "Maybe you'd like the Cruciatus Curse as well, Longbottom."

"Flipendo!" he cried again.

Harry started to feel his arms and legs again. They still hurt, but he needed to move, to do something other than lay there.

"Pathetic…" Quirrell sneered. "Incarcerous!" he said, almost lazily.

Harry hadn't meant to get in the way of the spell. He was trying to get out from under Neville to help. Ropes magically appeared and bound his middle, leaving his arms free.

"Potter! Flipendo!" Longbottom cried again.

The ropes vanished off Harry for some reason. He looked up to realize Quirrell was walking toward them, his wand outstretched. "Here! It's here!" Harry cried as he awkwardly got to his feet. His legs gave out on him, and he fell forward.

"Gah!" Quirrell shouted as Harry's full weight hit him in the legs. They both went to the ground.

Harry saw his opportunity and grabbed for Quirrell's wand. At the same time, he heard the loud thunk of something hitting the stone floor of the chamber.

"The Stone! The Stone!" Voldemort cried at the same time as Longbottom cried, "No! He can't get it!"

Harry missed the wand but managed to wrap his fingers around Quirrell's outstretched hand. They both screamed. Harry felt a stabbing pain pierce his brain through his scar at the same time as Quirrell screamed in his ear. The smell of something burning assaulted Harry's nose as he rolled away with Quirrell's wand. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to take it away.

Through tears, he saw the professor clutching his hand where Harry wrapped his fingers around his wrist. Neville stood and pointed his wand at the fallen professor. "Flipendo!" he cried. A white jet of light slammed into Quirrell's chest and sent him flying back into the Mirror. Both went down with a loud crash.

Longbottom reached down and scooped up the Philosopher's Stone. He looked at Harry. "We need to run!" he said as he started to pull on what could only be an invisibility cloak.

"Longbottom!" Quirrell screeched as he stood.

Harry and Neville pointed their wands at the professor. "Flipendo!" they both cried at the same time.

The professor's wand didn't work like Harry's did. However, it still managed to produce something. A yellow jet of light flew from the stolen wand and hit Quirrell in the face at the same time as Longbottom's white spell hit the professor in the stomach. If Harry had to guess, Longbottom's spell was more powerful because the professor was lifted off his feet and slammed hard against the far wall. His body hit one of the iron sconces.

The sound of something snapping was loud as Quirrell screamed at the top of his lungs. A moment later, he hit the floor in a heap. Harry felt a little sick when he realized the professor was folded over on himself, his head touching his toes. The grotesque parasite in his head shifted around to look at them.

"Longbottom!" it screeched.

"I'm not afraid of you, Voldemort! I know you could have chosen me. Firenze told me. Not all paths are as they seem. I carry the thread of destiny as the dark one seeks power. You lay hidden, afraid," Longbottom spat.

Harry had no idea what was going on. He raised Quirrell's wand again. Fire worked to burn Quirrell's hand somehow. "Incendio!" he cried. A jet of deep red erupted from his wand with enough force to rattle the bones in his hand. His spell hit the floor beside Quirrell's twitching body. Fire erupted from the spot. Quirrell began to scream, and so did the parasite thing.

Harry could barely stand as his head throbbed. "Let's go!" Longbottom said through the pain.

He pushed Harry toward the door. "Colloportus!" Longbottom said once they got through. He stopped suddenly "Oh… the fire," he muttered.

Harry blinked at the black flames in front of them, blocking their exit. Longbottom looked from Harry to the fire. "You aren't going to be able to get through without the potion I took. Uh… I need to get the Stone away from here… Sorry," he said before dashing through the black flames.

Harry stood there, stunned. Longbottom left him there. He heard something on the other side of the room but couldn't hear what it was. The flames vanished as soon as a heavy thud echoed around the room. Harry blinked. So much had happened that he felt like his brain couldn't process what was happening. Something thumped against the door behind him.

Between a fire that had been there a moment ago and a certain angry and likely deadly wizard inhabited by the dark lord, Harry chose to chance the empty space where the fire had been. He took a deep breath and leaped, hoping whatever the black fire was wouldn't be invisible for some reason. He didn't feel any heat in the first place.

Harry landed hard against a table, but he wasn't on fire. The door leading back to the chamber rattled again. He did his best to get up and pointed the stolen wand at the door. Imagining a barrier over the entire door, hinges and metal bands included, he cried, "Colloportus!" Nothing seemed to happen, but the spell didn't have a jet of light or any outward clue as to if it worked.

Harry limped toward the other door. He opened it, and the fire sprang to life again. Another wall of fire between him and Quirrell would be better than trying to lock this door too. He limped along the short corridor and saw two dead trolls. One was missing a head, and the other had something lodged in its heart. He tried to ignore the smell and was grateful only one nostril worked.

Something loud crashed behind him. Harry did not turn around and ran for the open door at the other end of the corridor. His entire body protested, but he didn't want to be trapped in the dungeons with Quirrell. Somehow, Harry knew the wizard had survived and was angry. A hollow boom washed over Harry as he entered the next room.

The next chamber was a massive raised chessboard with bits of black and white pieces scattered all over the floor. He saw Longbottom and Granger supporting a red-haired boy. They hadn't seen him and were going to the door on the opposite side of the room.

Harry knew he wouldn't be able to catch up. He moved to the left of the doorway and crouched near the head of a massive black horse. If Quirrell passed him, that would be for the best. As soon as he stopped moving, the pain in his body returned stronger than ever. He fought against the overwhelming desire to lie down and curl up.

As soon as a dark shape appeared in the doorway, Harry decided he wouldn't lie down and hope. That had never worked before. He decided to rush the professor. As soon as he started to move, a jet of deep red struck the figure, and flames erupted over its robes.

Quirrell did not scream; he stepped forward, eyes focused on something ahead of him. Harry acted. Something happened the last time Harry touched the professor's skin. Another jet of light, this time a lighter red, struck the professor. A large gash appeared in his robes as yet another spell struck him. The Full Body-Bind took effect as Quirrell dropped without a sound.

Harry placed his left hand on the face embedded in Quirrell's skull. The pain in his scar was nothing compared to whatever curse the professor used on him. It hurt, yes, but it was a dim feeling. Quirrell screamed as the front part of his body burned. Harry tried not to gag at the smell of cooking meat.

A moment later, the professor went still, and a black form erupted from the body. It rushed toward the direction the spells came from with a howl.

Harry rolled onto his side and moved away from the still-burning body. He felt sick. There was a hole in the back of the professor's skull where the parasite Voldemort had been. It looked like a deflated ball. Bile rose in his throat, and Harry rolled over to throw up.

He heard screaming from the other side of the chessboard. Wiping his mouth, he slowly got to his feet on wobbly legs. The platform came up to his chin, but he could see clearly to the other side of the room.

Albus Dumbledore stood over Longbottom and waved his wand. The black something screamed again and shot into the air. It went straight up through the stone ceiling. With another wave of his wand, the Headmaster took Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger away in a flash of red flame.

Harry rubbed his eyes. He thought he had imagined it for a moment, but when he looked again, they were gone. They left him there. A hollow feeling settled in his stomach. The pain felt like a distant emotion rather than something physical.

Harry sat down on the chess board and started to cry. Once he started, he couldn't stop. It came out as choked sobs. A rough hand grabbed his shoulder, and Harry tried to brandish the stolen wand. Powerfully strong hands gripped his fingers, and he was forced to let the wand go with a gasp.

"Potter!" an all too familiar voice hissed. Professor Snape stood over him, holding him down with one hand while the other disarmed the wand. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"P-professor Quirrell," Harry managed to gasp.

The Potions Master looked from him to the door where the professor's still burning corpse was. "You did this?" the wizard demanded.

Harry gasped as Professor Snape leaned down and stared him in the eyes. "Tell me!" he hissed.

"V-voldomr," he got out.

"The Dark Lord? Potter, speak clearly!"

"Severus, what are you doing? Is… is that Potter?!" he heard from several feet away.

Professor Snape bent down and whispered, "do not speak of anything that happened." He shot Harry a warning look before standing. "He needs the Hospital Wing. It appears Quirinus has done more than attempt to steal the Stone," he announced louder. His eyes never left Harry.

"Harry!" Professor Sprout said as she approached and got on her knees beside him. "I heard that someone came to take you from the Common Room. It wasn't me," she quickly said. "We'll get you to the Hospital Wing," she continued to babble.

Harry wasn't sure he could trust her. "How?" he demanded when she went to reach for his arm. He assumed she was going to try to help him up.

"Pollyjuice Potion," Professor Snape said. "I'm missing ingredients."

Harry didn't like how fast the Potion Master had an answer. It was like the cursed object from the Defense Classroom.

"I swear I did not ask you to leave the Common Room. I sent Merriweather with a note to ask you to join me. We knew something was wrong when she told me I had already come to get you. The Heads of House discovered that Longbottom, Granger, Weasley, and you were all missing from their Common Rooms. Albus was at the Ministry. It's been…" she said as she trailed off. Her eyes went to the still-burning body near the door. She shivered.

"About thirty-five to forty minutes," Professor Snape supplied. "Pomona… he needs the Hospital Wing. Someone used the Torture Curse on him."

That made his Head of House jump. "What?!" she gasped. "Harry, would you please come with us to the Hospital Wing?" she asked gently.

Harry heard the Potions Master snort. "Do I need to?"

"Yes, Potter. You do. Your body has been pushed to its limit, and I don't know how you're still awake," he heard as something red filled his vision. Darkness took him once more.

Harry jerked awake. It took a moment for him to process that he was in the Hospital Wing and his Head of House was beside his bed. "Easy, Harry," she said softly. "I apologize for Severus'… heavy hand. You were in need of healing, but… well, he has a different view on things. I apologize," she whispered.

Harry blinked spots out of his eyes. He looked around as he tried to process everything. His body didn't hurt, and his head felt clearer than it had been in days. "Thank you for asking," he sighed.

"Welcome back, Mister Potter," the healer said from several feet away. Harry heard something across the large room but wasn't sure what it was. "You had quite the night. I have healed what I can for tonight. I know you likely do not wish to stay, but I'm afraid you will need to for at least a few days. The curse used on you is terrible and can have after-effects."

Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, so he nodded. The older healer smiled at him. "Do you feel any pain?"

"No… uh… healer," he answered after remembering what to call her.

"I will leave you two alone for a few minutes. Pomona, he'll need a Dreamless Sleep tonight. I know everyone wants to know what happened down there, but please keep things simple. Do not press my patient," she said with a wink at Harry.

He wasn't sure what to make of that. Professor Sprout nodded and turned to him. She shifted on her stool and took a deep breath. "Harry, again, I am so sorry this happened. This is not normal for our school. Professors do not abduct or attack students. You should never have to fight for your life as you have done. For that, I am deeply sorry. I feel like I've failed you as an educator and your Head of House," she said quietly.

"He… Professor Quirrell… was… uh… You-Know-Who," he hedged.

By the look on the professor's face, he thought he might have slapped her. "What?" she croaked, a little louder than she likely intended.

"In his skull… Voldemort was inside the professor," he sighed.

Professor Sprout sat back on the stool so quickly he was worried she would fall over. "My… my word," she gasped.

Harry decided he wouldn't tell the rest of the story if she was that scared of just a name.

"May I hug you?" she asked gently.

Harry wasn't sure he could say no from the fierce look she gave him. Before he could even nod, she wrapped surprisingly strong and gentle arms around him. "I am so proud of you," she whispered in his ear. "You have done more this year than I think you even realize. Thank you for being in my House," she finished as she let him go.

"We will… talk about this more after you can get some rest. Your friends are worried about you. They likely will visit soon. As you're aware, this… incident will likely be all over the school before this time tomorrow. Secrets and Hogwarts are like gillyweed and fire. The Headmaster will want to speak with you as well. I… Albus makes decisions with the information he has, like we all do. I have spoken to him about potentially making it so you do not return to the Dursleys."

Harry stared at her. On the one hand, that would be amazing, but on the other, his tentative plan with Kreacher might not work. It wasn't a great plan anyway. He had no idea how his house-elf would feel about Harry joining him for the summer. Thus far, Kreacher hadn't been all that excited, not that Harry could blame him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She gave him a broad smile. "Get some rest. I will be back first thing in the morning."

Harry watched his Head of House leave and felt guilty. The Mirror showed that he desired to be a Ravenclaw and have all his family with him. That was, of course, impossible.

Five minutes later, the healer came by. "Mister Potter, you are likely to have nightmares after your ordeal," she said softly. He noticed the tray with two bottles on it. "The first will help you sleep, and the other will soothe any lingering pains. The curse used is one of the very worst of our kind and should never be used under any circumstance. Quirrell would have served a life sentence in Azkaban, our wizarding prison, for the rest of his life for its use," she continued as she set the tray on the bedside table.

Harry wanted to tell her the professor wasn't alive but decided not to. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. On one hand, the man had hurt him a lot and told him that he was going to kill him that night. On the other hand, Harry was almost positive that he had ended Quirrell's life. The hole in the back of the professor's head was the only thing that stopped him from blaming himself. Voldemort made that hole. It might not have been Harry in the end.

He took both potions and quickly dropped off to sleep.

Madam Pomfrey was right. Harry didn't dream and felt only a little pain the following day. Professor Sprout visited him before the healer could.

"Good morning," she said with a smile. "I want to tell you again how proud I am of you. I've got permission from the Headmaster. You are to be awarded one hundred points for your bravery, tenacity, and ability to escape. I know Longbottom helped, and he is… not quite ready to speak, but you did yourself, your parents, and Hufflepuff House proud," she beamed.

Harry tried not to grimace at the mention of Longbottom. He'd left him there to escape with the Philosopher's Stone. While he had saved him initially, Neville still left him there, and he would have likely died or, at the very least, been more hurt. Why were they there in the first place?

"What happened?" he asked slowly. "Why were they there?"

A strange expression crossed her face as she glanced toward the other end of the Hospital Wing. "It appears… well… they went down to stop a professor from stealing the object those rooms were designed to protect," Professor Sprout answered carefully without looking at Harry.

He understood. They weren't supposed to talk about it.

"Would you like anything? Unfortunately, I have several tasks this morning before my first class."

Harry shook his head. "No, professor," he answered.

She looked at him and seemed to fuss with his sheets. "I am proud of you. Keep up all your hard work. I know it's been a challenge, but you are doing a wonderful job," she said as she got up. "Madam Pomfrey will release you in the next day or so."

Harry sat there and wondered what the rest of the term would be like. Would he still need to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts?

A figure appeared at the end of his bed. The Headmaster looked old and grumpy at the same time. He smiled as he took a seat. "Mr. Potter, I want to apologize for the events of last night. I was not aware my professor had Voldemort with him," he said slowly as he tried to look Harry in the eyes.

For his part, Harry watched the Headmaster's lips. Too much had been said about Albus Dumbledore for him to be comfortable. Had he really left Harry to the Dursleys? Did he abandon Harry like Quirrell said? He certainly did in the dungeons. Longbottom was hurt, so maybe that was why. When Harry said nothing, the Headmaster's lips tightened ever so slightly. Petunia did that when she was angry.

"I must thank you for your courage last night. It is no small thing to face the unknown, let alone the shadow of Voldemort. Few would have managed what you and Mr. Longbottom did last night," the Headmaster said softly. He shifted on the stool and clasped his hands together.

"It was just not luck last night, Mr. Potter. No, luck plays its part, as it always does, but it was your heart, your loyalty, and your resolve to protect others that made the difference. These traits mark you as truly remarkable. The best both of your parents stood for. And yet… there is more at play here than we could have ever anticipated."

The Headmaster broke off and looked around the Hospital Wing before regarding Harry again. "What happened last night… what Voldemort attempted, what he sought… confirms what I long suspected. He is not finished. His defeat all those years ago was but a momentary setback. He will… rise again, Mr. Potter. Though not without resistance.

Mr. Longbottom showed exceptional bravery. His actions, his instinct to protect you, and his willingness to step forward when all others might falter are not qualities to overlook. I hope you will not hold it against him for trying to protect the one thing that will hasten Voldemort's return. The Elixir of Life would have helped him rise once more, likely more powerful than before.

Firenze spoke with Mr. Longbottom about his role in shaping what is to come. The stars have a curious way of aligning."

Harry tried to process what he was hearing. The Headmaster wasn't done.

"You, Harry, were no less important and will be no less critical. You may not have sought to protect the Stone or sought to prevent Voldemort's return. However, it found you nonetheless. There is a bond I do not fully understand between yourself and Voldemort. You were there for a reason last night, though what it is, I cannot yet say… nor do I believe does Voldemort understand it yet either.

I only ask this. Please keep your heart open. Hufflepuff is the House of support, sacrifice, love, and hard work. Those are the true values that brought you to that House through the Sorting Hat. While some may claim that you should be in another House, that is simply not true. The path ahead of you will not be easy, but I believe in your ability to navigate it."

The Headmaster paused again and seemed to consider something before speaking.

"Harry, the choices we make, like when to act or when to step aside, define us as not only who we are but what we will become. You have already made choices that would humble even the greatest of wizards. Do not underestimate the power of your own will, even when the world seeks to push you in directions you may not wish to go."

The Headmaster rose and looked down at Harry. "Please rest, Harry. The next chapter of this story is yet to be written, and I suspect both you and Mr. Longbottom will play parts larger than either of you yet realize."

Harry was not at all comforted by the Headmaster's speech. He watched him leave as quietly as he'd arrived.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," the healer said with a smile. She had only one potion in her hand. "Are you hungry?"

Harry considered the question. "Yes… healer."

"That is a good sign. After you eat, I have another potion to help you sleep. I know it might not be what you want to do, but it will help."

He slept until lunch and felt better for it. Bones, Abbott, and Macmillan visited him. "Harry!" Ernie grinned as he made his way over to his bed.

"You look good for someone who got kidnapped again," Abbott said with a smile.

Susan squawked and hit her friend on the shoulder. "Hannah!"

"What? It's all over the school," she rolled her eyes.

Harry grimaced. "What's all over the school?" he asked carefully. He wondered what the others were saying about what happened.

"Oh, just that Longbottom set Professor Quirrell on fire. You got abducted by a Professor Sprout doplegnanger that was really Quirrell. Granger and Weasley went with Longbottom to protect the Philosopher's Stone, and they managed to do it. Oh, and Quirrell is dead. And, to top all of it off. Somehow, You-Know-Who was involved. How much of that is right?" Ernie asked eagerly.

Harry frowned. "I mean… I did get abducted. Longbottom did get the Stone. He did help me escape Quirrell. It's true… You-Know-Who was involved," he hedged.

"So… Professor…" Bones asked slowly.

"Is gone, yes. He wanted the Stone."

The three of them looked at him. "Oh, come on! There has to be more than that," Abbott huffed. "That story was so… so… dry… boring! Come on! Where's the spells, the fear, the adventure?"

Harry snorted. "Does getting hit with the Torture Curse count?" he muttered.

Susan stood up quickly. "What did you say?" she demanded. "He didn't! You… did… you?" she asked in a much quieter tone.

"Yes… I don't recommend it," Harry snorted.

Bones shivered and shook her head. "Harry, that alone… you deserve those one hundred points." The others looked at her. "I'll explain later," she said, her mouth set in a grim line.

Macmillan's face scrunched up. "So… I guess we don't need to go back to Defense. Think they'll let us skive off?" he grinned.

Bones sighed and shook her head. She glared at the back of Ernie's head. "Sometimes," she sighed again.

"It's not like Dumbledore will find someone new before the end of term. I doubt we'll even have an end-of-term exam," Abbott said with a nod.

"Someone will need to have classes for at least the fifth and seventh-year students," Susan said with a frown. "I wonder what Auntie will say about all this."

The others had to go to the Great Hall for lunch. He thanked them for stopping by and promised to leave the Hospital Wing as quickly as he could.

Harry saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley briefly when they visited their son. Ron Weasley got hurt before Longbottom got to the last chamber. Granger was already back in class with the others.

At some point, Hagrid had left Cauldron Cakes in a bag with a Get Well Soon letter. Harry decided not to risk his teeth by trying one of the rock-hard pastries.

A tall, severe woman with long brown robes and a massive hat that looked like it might have a stuffed vulture on the top strode into the Hospital Wing. Harry could just see the door from where he lay.

"Where is my grandson?" the angry witch demanded. Harry didn't need to guess who she'd come for.

"Dowager Longbottom," the healer greeted from somewhere to Harry's left. "He is here."

The old witch looked at Harry as she passed. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him. However, she didn't say anything and continued past. Neville was two beds away from Harry, blocked by a few thin curtains.

"He is being kept in an enchanted sleep," the healer reported.

"Yes," a lofty voice said from the doorway. Harry spotted the Headmaster. "It is for his safety." Harry closed his eyes and tried to pretend to be asleep.

"Tell me, Headmaster," Longbottom's grandmother demanded, "I trust you have an explanation for why my grandson was forced to face down a murderer and that… thing you claimed in your letter."

"Mrs. Longbottom, I understand your concern and do not take my duties lightly. The dangers your grandson faced last night were indeed severe. I deeply regret that such a confrontation occurred at all."

"Regret? Regret? You should have prevented it entirely!" she shouted. "Neville is not some pawn in a game of wizarding chess, Albus! He is a child! A child, and I will not put him at risk again for matters that should concern only fully grown adult trained wizards."

"Your indignation is justified, Augusta. Neville's bravery, however, must not be overlooked. He acted with a strength of character that many adults would fail to summon. He is a testament to his upbringing and unshakable integrity of the Longbottom line. He acted for the betterment of others, not himself."

"Bravery is all well and good, Albus. However, bravery will not keep my grandchild alive! Frank and Alice were brave too, and look what it cost them," Augusta Longbottom snapped.

"Yes… indeed, it did. The cruel truth is that bravery often carries a cost. Yet, if I may speak frankly, Augusta, I do not believe Neville's path can be avoided. We spoke about this, and your family trusted the old line. The boy is fated and is entangled in things beyond any of us. I would not force a child into harm's way. However, some destinies intertwine with the tide of history… no matter how fiercely we try to shield them," the Headmaster said, his tone stony.

"Are you saying my Neville is one of those?"

"I believe Neville has challenges ahead that he must be ready for. He already possesses qualities that make him stand out. He is growing to be uniquely suited to the call. The courage to save another he showed last night was but the tip of the wand. He showed determination, logic, and a willingness to stand against unimaginable darkness. These are rare gifts."

"What of the boy then? You've spent years watching over him, Albus. If the Prophet is to be believed, you failed at even that!"

"I will not abandon Mr. Potter, any more than I would abandon any child, especially those who may be fate-marked. Harry's role is equally important, though different. Your grandson saved him. They both know it. Harry's path will likely diverge from Neville, just as their strengths are distinct. Together, as they showed last night, they are complete in ways neither yet realizes."

Harry didn't know what to think about what he'd just heard. Had the Headmaster known about the Dursleys and done nothing?

"I will not have Neville be treated as a spare or a substitute for anyone, Albus. He deserves guidance, not manipulation!"

"And he will have it, Augusta. I assure you. I hold Neville in the highest regard, not as a replacement for anyone but as a remarkable young wizard in his own right. My intention is not to manipulate either child but to prepare them. The days ahead will test us all, and I will do everything in my power to ensure both Neville and Harry are ready to face whatever comes."

"See that you do, Albus. The fact that this happened in their first year after reaching eleven bodes ill. You had better, for your sake and theirs."

"You have my word," Albus Dumbledore said calmly.