A/N: Day 9! The end of Harry's first year at Hogwarts! Let's hope that his second year doesn't take 12 chapters to get through... lol.
Rising Storms
A Harry Potter and Percy Jackson crossover
Chapter 14:
Harry
As the confrontation unfolded in the chamber, Professor McGonagall couldn't contain her resolve. "The Sorcerer's Stone is a fake, Voldemort! You shall not succeed in your twisted ambitions!"
Voldemort's fury was unleashed, a maddened scream echoing through the chamber. The moment McGonagall spoke those words, his spirit, twisted and malevolent, fled from Quirrell's body. The professor crumpled to the ground, his form disintegrating into ash.
The dark spirit, now freed from its host, soared into the air with a wail of rage, leaving behind a scene of destruction. Harry, still bound, watched with a mix of horror and relief as the threat seemed to dissipate.
With the immediate danger averted, Snape swiftly moved to untie Harry, his skilled hands working efficiently. As the bindings fell away, Harry felt a strange sensation, a shiver down his spine that seemed to hint at a lingering presence.
Dumbledore approached, his eyes reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and concern. "Harry, you defied Voldemort. How did you manage it?"
Harry hesitated, his mind grappling with the surreal events. "I... I don't know. It was like something inside me knew that I couldn't let him win."
Snape, now temporarily free from the binds of his sinister alliance with Voldemort, nodded at Harry with a rare display of approval.
As they prepared to leave the chamber, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore held more secrets than he let on. His eyes darted to the Mirror of Erised, a peculiar unease settling over him.
Dumbledore, sensing Harry's internal conflict, approached him with a gentle smile. "Harry, your bravery today was remarkable. But I sense there's more on your mind."
Harry hesitated before speaking. "The stone, Professor. It's not real? I could have helped him get it?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a knowing glint. "Ah, Harry. Sometimes the true magic lies in the choices we make. If you had known that it was fake, you might not have made the same choice, my boy. I'll destroy the fake later."
As they left the chamber, Snape guiding Harry toward the hospital wing, Dumbledore's cryptic words lingered in the air. The events of that day had unveiled layers of mystery and intrigue, leaving Harry with questions that echoed in his mind. He looked up at Snape with a question in his eyes.
"What is it, Mr. Potter?" came the man's silky tone. He put up a silencing spell around them, having a feeling that what Harry wanted to say wasn't something that should be heard by the portraits, who would just go tell Dumbledore what was said.
"I had a feeling that Dumbledore was lying about the stone being fake, and that he had a weird plan for the stone, so…" Harry looked forward again as he continued. "So, I had the mirror slip the stone into my pocket. I want to send the stone back to Nicolas Flamel with a note about my suspicions."
"Hmm," Snape said, thinking as they walked. "I see. Yes, that does sound like something Albus would do. I'll send it off if you want to write the note." He tightened his grip around Harry's waist when Harry tripped over his own feet. "I'll also let your father know what happened and that you are alright, since I doubt that Albus did anything."
Harry nodded, thankful. "Thank you, professor. I know it's hard for you to contact dad, but thank you."
Snape's lips quirked on one side. "Well, you aren't the worst student I have."
Harry let out a tired laugh. "Thanks for that. I'm sorry I'll miss the last game of the year. I might even miss the leaving feast, if Madam Pomphrey keeps me for a long time."
Snape chuckled. "She likes to make sure her students are safe." They had reached the Hospital wing by then, and Madam Pomphrey was trying to get their attention. Snape dropped the privacy spell. "Sorry, Poppy, Mr. Potter had something to discuss with me without the whole school finding out. We're here to get him healthy again after his capture by Quirrell."
"Quirrell? Our defense teacher took him?" Madam Pomphrey sat down in a chair beside a bed in shock, holding a hand to her chest. "What is going on in the world that professors kidnap and torture their students?" She took a moment to gather herself while Snape helped Harry onto a bed.
"Here's parchment and a quill," Snape said, conjuring said items and handing them over to Harry. As the boy wrote the note, Snape conjured a small pouch for the stone.
Harry finished the note quickly, and handed the items back to his head of house. Then he put the stone in the pouch, handing that back as well just as Madam Pomphrey walked over, not noticing the exchange.
"Now, let's see what the damage is." Madam Pomphrey walked over. Madam Pomfrey, with her stern yet caring demeanor, fussed over Harry in the hospital wing, her skilled hands working to ensure his well-being after the harrowing ordeal with Professor Quirrell.
"Mr. Potter, you've been through quite an ordeal," she remarked, her eyes scanning him for any signs of lingering injuries.
Harry winced as she prodded gently at a bruise on his arm. "I'm okay, Madam Pomfrey. Just tired."
In the corner of the hospital wing, Snape sent a patronus message to James Potter, holding a small package containing the Sorcerer's Stone and a note for Nicholas Flamel. His eyes flickered between Harry and the parcel, a mix of concern and purpose in his gaze.
Madam Pomfrey continued her examination, her expression softening. "You're lucky to be alive, Mr. Potter. Whatever happened down there, it's a miracle you made it out."
Snape approached with the package, his eyes meeting Harry's briefly before turning his attention to Madam Pomfrey. "He's resilient, Poppy. But he needs rest."
Madam Pomfrey nodded in agreement, tending to the last of Harry's injuries. "Rest is precisely what he needs. You'll be staying here overnight, Mr. Potter. At least."
As Madam Pomfrey bustled away, Snape took a moment to stand by Harry's bedside. "Your father knows what transpired. I've informed him of your condition. He's on his way."
Harry, still processing the events, managed a small nod. "Thanks, Professor."
Snape's gaze held a rare warmth as he spoke, "You showed courage today, Potter. More than I expected. Get some rest. We'll deal with the aftermath soon enough."
With those words, Snape turned away, striding purposefully toward his office to send off the precious cargo to Nicholas Flamel. As he approached the fireplace, he muttered an incantation, and the package vanished in a swirl of green flames.
Meanwhile, James Potter, having received Snape's message, arrived at the hospital wing with a mix of relief and worry etched on his face. He approached Harry's bedside, his eyes filled with paternal concern.
"Harry, my boy," James said, his voice a mixture of emotions. "Are you alright? What happened?"
Harry, exhausted but reassured by his father's presence, recounted the events in the chamber beneath Hogwarts. James listened intently, his expression shifting between pride and concern.
As the night settled over the castle, the pieces of the intricate puzzle fell into place. Snape, James, and Madam Pomfrey worked in unison to ensure Harry's recovery and address the consequences of the dangerous encounter with Voldemort and the elusive Sorcerer's Stone.
Harry was given plenty of fluids, that night, to help his body get used to having something in his stomach. Madam Pomphrey checked on him the next morning to see if he could eat some bland porridge, but he threw it up, making his dad and uncles worried. James had called for Remus and Sirius sometime during the night to let them know what had happened, and they had apparently stayed the night.
His dad was rubbing his back soothingly as Madam Pomphrey vanished the sick, and gave him more water. "Why did that happen, Madam Pomphrey?" James asked her.
"He spent three days without food and only a little water," she said abruptly. She helped Harry slowly sip from the cup. "It's going to be okay, Harry," she said softly.
A/N: 1446 words