Chapter 7: End of the year and meeting the Flamels
Chapter 7
"Harry, are you alright? I was just on my way to the Ministry when I noticed something must be wrong! Where is Quirrell, did he manage to get the stone?
Together they made their way back to the main corridor.
"You knew about Quirrell and the stone and still let the man teach here?!" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I had a suspicion however if he truly came down here for the stone, he should have never gotten it. My last obstacle would have stopped him dead in his tracks. But tell me, what happened down there."
Harry took a couple of calming breaths and powered up his mind shields. It was now or never. He started telling Dumbledore about how he saw Quirrell sneaking into the forbidden corridor, how he followed the man down and completed the challenges of the different teachers.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in pride as Harry explained how he beat every single challenge with wit and ease.
Finally, Harry arrived at the last part and explained how he quickly dueled with Quirrell and managed to surprise the man, removing his wand and stunned him. He told Dumbledore how the Mirror and most likely the Stone were destroyed in the process.
Dumbledore seemed sad about the loss of such an amazing magical artifact but certainly preferred it over the alternative of Quirrell presenting it to Voldemort. When it came to Quirrell's skin burning at Harry's touch, the boy was almost certain to see something like triumph in the blue eyes of his Headmaster.
They arrived at the Headmaster's office and Harry asked the question that was currently consuming him:
"Sir, what kind of magic was that? Why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"
"One of the most powerful magic in the world, Harry… Love."
At Harry's dumbstruck expression the old man chuckled and continued: "Your mother sacrificed herself and offered Voldemort to take her life instead of yours. This left a magical protection within you, that is bound to your blood. That is why Voldemort's curse couldn't kill you that night and also why Quirrell couldn't touch you, since he was sharing his body, mind, and soul with Voldemort, the very same person that spilled your mother's blood."
Harry was fascinated by Dumbledore's explanation. He had never heard of any magic strong enough to withstand the Killing Curse… so that's how he had survived that night.
"Sir, I know you know why Voldemort wanted to kill me in the first place. He said my parents' death wasn't necessary… that he only came there for me. I would like you to tell me why."
Dumbledore seemed shocked at Harry's statement. The prophecy and its content were not something he was planning on telling the boy so early. He had a decision to make. Telling Harry about everything would earn the boy's trust, but at the same time ruin his chance at any sort of happy childhood he could still enjoy.
"Harry, you don't realize what you're asking for me… I don't want to burden you with this knowledge, my boy. You're not even twelve years old. I would like you to enjoy your childhood."
"You destroyed my childhood the moment you gave me to the Dursleys, Headmaster. I give you a chance at redemption. Don't make me your enemy, if you have vital information that might help me against Voldemort, then it is my right to know about it!"
Dumbledore was at a loss for words. The boy's argument was clear and obvious.
"Okay Harry, I will tell you, or better yet… I will show you the memory of me witnessing what's called a prophecy. Do you happen to know what a Pensieve is?"
Dumbledore explained the purpose of Pensieve and brought his wand to his temple. As he pulled the wand away a silvery substance attached itself to the tip of the wand, seemingly leaving the Headmaster's brain.
Dumbledore put the silvery substance into a bowl-shaped object covered in runes Harry had never seen before. Together with Dumbledore he dived head first into the bowl and reappeared in a simple room with a bed and a desk.
Opposite of him sat Hogwarts' current Divination professor.
The woman spoke in a low, rough voice:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
As the memory threw them back out, Harry's mind went into overdrive. Dumbledore watched him curiously, waiting to see how the boy would react.
The one with the power… Harry was powerful, no doubt. He was the best in his year and managed magic many upper-year students hadn't mastered yet. But was he powerful enough? No, not yet at least. There was little doubt that the potential was there however.
Born to those who have thrice defied him. He didn't know much about his parents, but it filled him with pride to learn that they had stood against the Dark Lord multiple times and lived to tell the tale.
Mark as an equal… that was an obvious one. He carried his scar. The Dark Lord literally chose him.
Power the Dark Lord knows not. He had no idea about that one. Maybe he would figure it out someday.
Neither can live while the other survives. That one was obvious as well. One had to kill the other...it was as if Harry had known it from the beginning. Somehow, he knew that defeating this Dark Lord was his destiny.
"Thank you very much, Headmaster. I appreciate your honesty."
"I must admit, I'm surprised Harry, you took this a lot better than I anticipated. I was expecting you to have lots of questions for me"
"Not right now Headmaster. For now, I would simply like to rest. Thank you for your time. I hope we can be just as honest to each other in the future."
Dumbledore thanked his young student. He had a letter and an apology to prepare for his old friend Nicolas.
Harry spent his last couple of days at Hogwarts thinking about what to do with the Stone he saved. Since he personally didn't need it, he should simply give it back to its creator. Especially since they probably needed it to stay alive.
He wouldn't, however, simply give away the stone for free. Maybe he could bargain with the Flamels for something in exchange.
He prepared a letter.
Dear Mrs. and Mr. Flamel,
My name is Harry Potter. I recently managed to save your precious Stone from being stolen here at Hogwarts School Witchcraft and Wizardry. I assume Professor Dumbledore told you that the stone got destroyed accidentally in the process. I assure you the Stone is safe and undamaged at this point in time.
Therefore, I would like to make a proposition:
I have no need for the stone. Immortality seems pretty boring at my age. I do however want to learn more about magic and certain topics that are not taught at Hogwarts, maybe even topics the British Ministry might consider as dark.
I offer your invaluable Stone, in exchange for two months of your teachings over this summer. Please do not consider this an attempt at blackmailing you. I'm simply an eager student, desperate to learn as much as possible in a short amount of time.
I eagerly await your reply to my proposal.
All the best wishes from Hogwarts.
Respectfully,
Harry James Potter
That should do, Harry thought. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to learn from some of the most accomplished sorcerers in recent history and he simply couldn't let this slip through his fingers.
Harry and Dumbledore had one last talk before Harry boarded the Express the next day. The Headmaster told Harry about the necessity to return to the Dursleys at least for a week so that the wards around Privet Drive, powered by his mother's sacrifice, can recharge.
Harry reluctantly agreed, but only under the promise to be allowed to go to Diagon Alley for a couple of hours a day.
Finally, it was time for the leaving feast. The Great Hall was filled to the brink with babbling students, excited to go home for the holidays to spend time with their families.
Dumbledore arrived moments later and the babble soon 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...
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 has 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 Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.
"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.
"Ahem," said Dumbledore.
"I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see… to Mr. Harry Potter"
Harry noticed how every eye in the Great Hall turned towards him sitting at the Ravenclaw table.
"... for showing qualities of all four houses…including, enormous courage, loyalty to his deceased family and this very school, wit and brilliance when confronted with an impossible challenge and finally the ambition to do what's right and not what's easy…"
The halls went very silent.
"… I award Ravenclaw house 100 points!"
Ravenclaw's cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver in response.
"You of course deserve more of an explanation as to the events that happened. Mr. Potter stopped Professor Quirrell who had been possessed by a dark spirit from stealing an item that was hidden within this school. Young Harry risked his own life and faced the impossible multiple times that night, to ensure that darkness did not prevail in our magical community.
I ask you all to respect Mr. Potter's wish for privacy regarding the events, which left him very exhausted. Unfortunately, I must also tell you that Professor Quirrell did not survive the confrontation and died when the dark spirit left the body it had used as a host for over a year.
Nevertheless, we cannot change the past!"
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Gryffindor 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 blue and the silver became bronze. The huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Ravenclaw eagle took its place. Snape was shaking Professor Flitwick's hand, with a horrible, forced smile.
He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape's feelings toward 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 was about to exit the Great Hall when he was stopped by the "famous" Golden Trio.
"You don't deserve this recognition, Potter", Weasley barked. "We worked out the clues over the entire year and would have stopped him and even saved his life if it wasn't for you. You just wanted to steal our glory!"
"Weasley, get out of my way before what I did to the Troll and Quirrell looks like a schoolyard prank!"
Weasley's face became a blank, white mask: "You wouldn't dare, Potter!"
Granger cut him off: "You're on the best way to becoming a Dark Wizard Harry Potter. You already took two lives this year and that's only what we know of. I bet you didn't even try to save the poor professor!"
Harry couldn't believe it! A couple of months ago he had saved the girl's life and now here she stood accusing him of becoming dark.
With a flick of his wrist, the golden trio found themselves thrown out of his way as he stormed out of the Great Hall. He didn't care that the teacher and half the student population witnessed his actions. The detention he might serve was definitely worth it.
Finally, he received his grade report and the top of the class list appeared on the blackboard in the Great Hall. Harry still didn't care much for academics, but he was very pleased with his performance over the year.
Grade Report, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry James Potter achieved the following grades in his first year at Hogwarts:
Astronomy: Exceeded Expectation
Herbology: Outstanding
Defense against the Dark Arts: Outstanding
Potions: Outstanding
Charms: Outstanding
History of Magic: Exceeded Expectations
Transfigurations: Outstanding
Top of the year ranks:
Astronomy:
Hermione Granger
Daphne Greengrass
Padma Patil
Herbology:
Neville Longbottom
Hermione Granger
Harry Potter
Defense against the Dark Arts:
Harry Potter
Susan Bones
Daphne Greengrass
Potions:
Daphne Greengrass
Harry Potter
Hermione Granger
Charms:
Harry Potter
Hermione Granger
Terry Boot
History of Magic:
Padma Patil
Michael Corner
Hermione Granger
Transfiguration:
Harry Potter
Hermione Granger
Daphne Greengrass
Overall first-year ranking:
Harry Potter
Hermione Granger / Daphne Greengrass
Padma Patil
Harry was very satisfied with his results. In all the classes he actually cared about, he managed to score the best. That was all that really mattered to him. He had not heard from the Flamels yet, but whether or not they decided to teach him, he vowed to get even better over the summer. He had gotten lucky with Quirrell. Had the possessed Professor not been so cocky, he could have easily been killed.
Harry needed to make sure that he didn't need to rely on his luck in any future confrontation. This summer he would make sure of it.
July 3rd 1992
Harry had only spent 48 hours at the Dursley's and he already felt like running as far away as he could. As per his agreement with Dumbledore, he spends the nights and meals at the Dursleys while wandering the cobblestone roads of Diagon Alley during the day.
Ollivander needed to prepare for the wave of customers that would hit his shop soon, so he offered Harry an internship position with the payment of a couple of gallons a day.
Harry didn't care about the money, however he was very interested in Wand Lore and used some of his spare time after work to research the runes Ollivander used on his wand and the different combinations of Materials and Cores in other wands.
Looking for one of Ollivander's notes on Thestral hair, Harry stumbled upon a box of letters. He didn't want to pry into his employer's private business but couldn't resist taking a peek at the correspondence.
Augsburg, Germany 1929
Hello old friend,
I have found it! It is finally in my possession and I can't wait to study its features. The deadliest wand known to Wizarding kind currently sits on my workbench. It is almost begging to be analyzed! Just imagine the opportunities Ollivander. Replicating the features of the Elder Wand might lead to a new generation of powerful wands, unlike anything the wizarding world has ever seen before.
Antioch Peverell must have truly been an accomplished wand crafter to manage this feat. At least that is the story I prefer over whatever childish tale Beedle the Bard sells in his book.
Expect future letters with the results of my discoveries.
Your friend,
Mykew Gregorovitch
Harry's heart was beating fast. He remembered Ollivander's words about elder wood being the wood of choiuce for Death's wand itself. Was this the very wand and the story he was referring to? He needed to get more information. Maybe the book that this wand maker 'Gregorovitch' was referring to might give him some answers.
The name Peverell was also mentioned. He had never heard of the name before. He would also do some research on that as soon as possible.
Harry sprinted over to Flourish & Blotts and bought The Tale of Beedle the Bard. He began reading and quickly noticed the parallels to his earlier findings.
Three powerful magical objects.
A wand that allows its wielded to win any duel. Powerful and crafted by Death itself from an elder tree.
As Stone, able to bring back an echo of the dead, allowing the user to talk to souls that have passed on.
And finally, a Cloak… but not just any cloak. An invisibility cloak so powerful, it hides its user from Death itself.
Harry also noticed the finer details… It was passed on, from father to son… Could this really be what he thought it was? Could he already own one of the legendary artifacts given to humanity by Death?
Harry knew he needed to do more research. Next up he needed to find out about the name Peverell. Now however, it was time to return to Number Four. He didn't want to break his promise to Dumbledore. He needed to keep the trust of the Headmaster.
As Harry arrived back in his room at Privet Drive, he noticed a beautiful black Owl sitting on the edge of the window with a thick envelope. What could this be?
Hedwig eyed the intruder from the corner, shooting the other owl a suspicious look and disapproving hoot.
Harry opened up the letter and a golden foreign coin fell out onto his bed. He disregarded it for a moment and began reading.
Dear Mr. Potter,
My wife and I offer you our gratitude for saving our precious stone and delaying the inevitable return of evil in magical Britain.
Rest assured, your letter was not taken as an attempt to blackmail my wife and I.
What makes you think we actually depend on the single stone we gave Albus for safekeeping? Do you honestly believe we didn't manage to produce a second or third over the last 600 years, in case we lose or damage the first one?
Nevertheless, we find your proposal very interesting, indeed. It has been decades since either Perenelle or I have taken on an apprentice.
We will welcome you at Flamel Manor in France tomorrow at 17:00 your time. The coin attached to the letter is a Portkey and will take you to us, just make sure you are touching it at 17:00 sharp.
Make sure to bring anything you deem necessary including our Stone, as you won't be returning until a couple of days before school.
We wish you all the best
Perenelle and Nicolas Flamel
Harry could barely contain his excitement; he was about to spend an entire summer with the famous alchemist couple in France. He could only imagine the amount of knowledge he might gain.
He could barely sleep that night, dreaming about the Elixir of Life, Deathly Hallows, and ancient alchemists.
The next day, Harry woke up quite early, at 7:00 am. He didn't sleep much last night and went downstairs for some breakfast. No one was up yet so he ate quietly and went back upstairs to start packing.
He spent the rest of his day doing some light reading and eating some lunch around noon. Finally, it was a couple of minutes to 17:00. Harry grabbed his trunk and checked his room in case he had left anything important. After storing Hedwig's cage in his trunk as his owl wanted to fly to France on her own, Harry touched the golden coin on his bed.
All of a sudden it felt as if he was being pulled by his navel and squeezed through a very tight tube. A couple of seconds later he landed on soft grass. Flicking his wand into his hand he quickly got up and looked around.
A middle-aged couple, maybe in their 50s, stood in front of him.
The man had blond hair, bright intelligent brown eyes, was of average height, and was smiling at him kindly. The woman to his right must have been around the same age. She was slightly shorter, with curly brown hair that held a couple of gray strands. She was still very pretty, with dark blue eyes, defined facial features, and soft pink lips.
The man curiously raised his eyebrow.
"Pretty good reflexes, young man. But I assure you, there is no danger a