Harry cracked open an eye, only to shut it again quickly. The room he was in was very bright, and it didn't help his pounding head any.
"Harry?"
This time Harry snapped both of his eyes open. Memories came flooding back to him. He shot up in bed. "Quirrell - Grindelwald - the Stone-"
Several sets of hands pushed him back down. "Calm down, calm down," Hermione's voice soothed. "Quirrell is - dead - gone - turned to ash."
Harry's eyes raked first over his Ravenclaw friend, and then moved to Neville, who seemed to be a wrong word away from bursting into tears. In fact, the whole scene might not have been that odd if not for Draco's stressed expression, which looked out of place on his usually stony face.
"Where am I?"
"You're in the hospital wing." Harry vaguely took in the plain white beds and the sterile environment. It looked rather like St. Mungo's, from what he could remember from his one visit there at the age of six, thanks to a broken arm. He still couldn't clearly recall if Draco had pushed him out of that tree or not, so he surmised he must've sustained a concussion the healers hadn't found. Incompetence . . .
Frowning slightly at his wondering thoughts, he reigned his mind back in and opened his mouth.
"What happened? I remember - The last thing I remember is Severus standing over me-"
"Severus?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised. "Since when does anyone call Professor Snape 'Severus'?"
Harry licked his lips nervously. "He's a-an old friend of my father. I've known him since I was little."
If Neville's eyes got any wider they might've popped out of his skull. "But-but he's a-a-a-"
"A professor," Harry cut in lamely. How he wished he had kept Severus's . . . alliances . . . a secret. It would come back to bite him, most likely sooner rather than later, what with Neville and his blathering. Maybe he should obliviate him? But, he'd have to learn how first.
"Yes, a professor. Maybe that's why I'm doing so well in his class? Eh, anyway, I remember him - and-"
"After Neville crossed back through the fire, Draco and I were waking up," Hermione cut in eagerly. "We went to the dungeons, but Professor Snape wasn't there, so next we went to the staff room. Turns out he and Sabine were having tea along with Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch." Hermione paused to take a deep breath - she had rambled all of that without exhaling once.
She continued: "At first, none of them really believed us, not even Professor Snape. McGonagall looked suspicious, though."
Harry rolled his eyes. Not a surprise there.
"Sabine seemed to have more sense than the entire lot of them - she took off towards the third floor corridor as soon as Hermione was finished with her story."
"Animals - especially magical ones like Sabine - have a sixth sense about those types of things," Neville added.
Hermione nodded her agreement but went on with her story. "We ended up having to tell them everything we knew about the Stone and Nicolas Flamel."
"We even described in great detail every single obstacle that we had to go through to get to the last chamber," Draco added. "Not to mention we were soaking wet. Idiots, the bunch of them."
"Come now, Draco, it wasn't that bad. But yes, they were a little slow in the uptake. But finally they believed us and we all went back to the third floor corridor." Hermione paused. A strange look passed over her face. "Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"McGonagall kept muttering something about how she was sure that your father told you to . . . steal the Stone for him. What'd she mean?"
Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure," he lied. The Slytherin glanced at her. "I guess some of the things my father does are slightly . . . shady, you could say, but the man doesn't even trust me to stay home alone without a house elf there to watch me! I doubt he would think me competent enough to get past a three-headed dog!"
"Underestimates you," Draco murmured. Neville nodded fervently in agreement.
"What happened next?"
"We got past Fluffy via the harmonica-"
"Fluffy?" asked Harry, incredulous.
"Oh, yes. That's the Cerberus's name."
"Who the hell names a three-headed dog 'Fluffy'?"
"I think it belongs to Hagrid. He won it down at the pub."
"Figures," Harry muttered.
"So once we were past Fluffy, the Devil's Snare was gone and all we had to do was cast a charm to soften the ground below the trapdoor."
"That crazy dog didn't wait before she jumped," said Draco. "We had to stop for a few minutes to heal her broken leg."
Harry winced in sympathy. "Poor Sabine."
"And to think," Draco continued, "that there are people who say that dogs are actually intelligent."
Hermione slapped his upper arm roughly. "Sabine is intelligent, as is any dog. She was just in a rush, is all."
Shifting and clearing her throat, she continued: "It was really easy after that. The key wasn't difficult to catch at all, since both its wings were rather crunched up, and the underground lake was still an ice cube, so all we had to do was walk across."
"How'd you get past the fire?"
"Professor Snape. He had a few vials of a potion that he'd been brewing earlier that day for the Ministry Of Magic's Fire Suppression and Inflammatory Chemicals Collection Agency. Nice coincidence, eh?"
Harry nodded bemusedly. "The stars were aligned in our favor . . ."
"The dog didn't wait again. Jumped over the fire pit before Severus could even hand us the potion bottles. I'm surprised she didn't catch flame."
"By the time we got there, all we found was a pile of ashes with Quirrell's clothes on top. You were lying a few feet away, still soaking wet. Sabine was already licking your face. Professor Snape rushed up to you and it looked like you said something to him."
"I fainted after that, right?" He frowned immediately after the sentence came out of his mouth. Fainted? Since when did he do something so pathetically weak as fainting? His father would be ashamed.
Hermione nodded. "We brought you back to the hospital wing. You were pretty scratched up. Madam Pomfrey said that you had a bit of frostbite in your toes."
Harry's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Frostbite?"
Hermione nodded. "From being stuck in the ice, I guess."
"But-have I lost any toes?" he demanded, wiggling his foot.
"No! She healed it up pretty quickly, in fact. She also said that your temperature was way too low. Seems like the water got to you worse than anything else."
"I still don't know how to swim," he said dejectedly.
Draco snickered.
"But what really happened, Harry? I don't understand."
Harry leaned back and glanced around the room once again. The bedside tables were cluttered with boxes of candy and the occasional vase of flowers, and he frowned. "Who sent all of this?"
"The Slytherins. And the Ravenclaws. And some of the braver Hufflepuffs, but there weren't many of those," said Draco, rolling his eyes. Neville frowned.
Harry pulled a giftwrapped bag of chocolate frogs into his lap and pulled the small card off of it. "'To Harry, from Pansy. I hope you get well soon; I never liked Quirrell anyway.'" He smiled grimly. "Nice to know the school is in the dark about what happened."
"Harry!" shouted Hermione. "You're avoiding the question! What happened with Quirrell?!"
"It was Grindelwald," he said simply.
"Grindelwald? What are you talking about? Dumbledore defeated him in 1945!"
"No. He lived. And to think Dumbledore made his career on that . . ."
"How?" she cut in, her face intense.
"He made something called a 'horcrux'. It's an object that you use as a vessel for a piece of your soul."
"And to kill someone," Hermione began, her voice awed, "You have to destroy their soul. So if part of the soul isn't housed in the body-"
"You don't die. You float around like a spirit until you can regain corporal form."
"Which could be achieved through the Sorcerer's Stone," Draco finished.
Harry nodded.
"So - Grindelwald was possessing Quirrell?"
"Did you ever wonder why our dear DADA professor kept that turban on all the time?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "You don't mean . . ."
"The man had two bloody faces. And I'd thought I couldn't be shocked after I saw one of those Lethifolds eat someone."
"A Lethifold?" Neville whimpered out.
"Don't worry, Neville. They only live in tropical areas."
"Where were you when you saw it?"
"America."
"America isn't tropical, Harry."
"Puerto Rico is."
"Puerto Rico is considered America?"
"It's a territory."
"But wait. I have another question."
"Fire away, 'Mione. I only have a pounding headache."
"Don't call me 'Mione," she said indignantly, before clearing her throat and continuing. "What was Grindelwald's horcrux?"
"What do you think? The necklace."
"That explains it, then," Neville muttered.
"Explains what?"
"Why everyone who got a hold of it died. It was evil." The chubby boy shivered despite himself.
"True," said Harry, shrugging.
"But where is it now?"
"Destroyed." I hope, he mentally added. "Don't worry. Grindelwald is finally, truly, dead."
"And what happened to Quirrell? Why'd he turn to ash?"
Harry paused. He hadn't thought of that. Why did Quirrell turn to ash when he touched him?
"I don't know," he finally replied. "It happened when he touched me."
They were awkwardly silent after that, and had just begun perfecting the art of avoiding each other's gazes when the door creaked open.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, sir," exclaimed Hermione, jumping out of her seat.
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Even the Death Eaters weren't that bad with Voldemort . . . Well, on second thought, they were, but it was only because of fear of torture.
"Miss Granger," he replied nodding. "Mister Malfoy, Mister Longbottom. And Mister Riddle-I see you've finally awoken. It's been three days-we were getting worried."
"I'm sure you were," muttered Harry.
Dumbledore turned to his friends. "It's almost dinnertime. Why don't you three run along before you're late?"
"Yes, sir," said Hermione reluctantly. She leaned across the bed and wrapped her arms around Harry in a quick hug.
"Bye, Harry!"
The words were echoed by the two boys, and they all slipped out the door.
"Well, Mister Riddle, I must say you did something incredibly impressive."
"Do you know that Grindelwald didn't die?" Harry cut in bluntly. "Because he didn't. He survived your duel because he had a-"
"Horcrux, yes." Dumbledore shook his head and clicked his tongue. "The darkest magic. To trade humanity for immortality. Human beings should not exist forever, young Harry. Death is as natural as birth."
Harry smiled lazily. "But what about your friend? Nicolas? He's six hundred years old, isn't he? And you're over one hundred. No muggle lives that long; not even that many wizards do."
Dumbledore smiled widely. "You know about Nicolas Flamel? My boy, I am impressed."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Dumbledore sighed. "The Stone was destroyed in your . . . conflict . . . with Professor Quirrell. There's no trace of it. And, my boy, that is for the best. Unlimited life and unlimited wealth . . . It should not exist."
"Don't want my father getting a hold of it, do you?"
Dumbledore smirked. "I'm sure Voldemort will find another way to fulfill his obsession with everlasting life, Mister Riddle. I'm sure he will. He was a bright boy, you know. Tom Marvolo Riddle. You quite remind me of him, in some ways."
Harry smiled toothily. "Do I scare you?"
"No."
"Did he?"
"Yes. Yes, he did."
Harry frowned, and was silent for a moment. "Are Flamel and his wife going to . . . die?" he asked hesitantly.
The old Headmaster smiled gently. "Yes, Harry, they are. But, for them, it isn't so much death-it's more like . . . going to bed after a very, very long day. And everyone needs rest."
Harry's frown deepened.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Why are people so terrified of death? Is it any scarier than life?"
"Most people would say so."
"It's simply the next great adventure, my boy. The next great adventure."
Patting his knee through the cover, Dumbledore stood. "Well, I'm afraid it is, truly, dinner time. I must be going. Madam Pomfrey will more than likely let you go back to your dorm sometime tomorrow."
He moved to the door, but paused. "Ah, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and I'm afraid I've been off of them ever since."
Harry tilted his head. "Bertie Bott was already making them in the stone age?"
Dumbledore chortled and popped one of the candies into his mouth. He shuddered. "Ear wax."
Harry grimaced, and Dumbledore continued on his way to the door.
"Headmaster?"
Dumbledore paused and looked over his shoulder questioningly. "Yes, Mister Riddle?"
"How well did you know Grindelwald, anyway?"
Dumbledore stared at him for a moment before chuckling. "Precocious child, so precocious."
He left.