«We must have crossed in midair. 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.»
«It was you.»
«I feared I might be too late.»
«You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer —»
«Not the Stone, boy, 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? Well, 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-organized 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 that are worst for them.» Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.
«Sir?» said Harry. «I've been thinking... sir—even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-KnowWho —»
«Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.»
«Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?»
«No, Harry, 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, Harry, 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.»
«Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me 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. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know.»
And Harry knew it would be no good to argue.
«But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?»
«Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize 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 forever. 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.»
Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Harry said, «And the invisibility cloak—do you know who sent it to me?»
«Ah—your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it.» Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. «Useful things... your father 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, Harry.» «Yes, him—Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?»
«Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.»
«What?»
«He saved his life.»
«What?»
«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...»
Harry tried to understand 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... Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomitflavored 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! Ear wax!»
Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.
«Just five minutes,» Harry pleaded.
«Absolutely not.»
«You let Professor Dumbledore in...»
«Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need 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 Ron 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?»
It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione 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—what was it?—'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.
«I always said he was off his rocker,» said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.
«So what happened to you two?» said Harry.
«Well, I got back all right,» said Hermione. «I brought Ron round—that took a while—and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall—he already knew—he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor.»
«D'you think he meant you to do it?» said Ron. «Sending you your father's cloak and everything?»
«Well, « Hermione exploded, «if he did—I mean to say that's terrible—you could have been killed.»
«No, it isn't,» said Harry thoughtfully. «He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could...»
«Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, 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—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.
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 candy boxes. I can, can't I?»
«Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go,» she said stiffily, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. «And you have another visitor.»
«Oh, good,» said Harry. «Who is it?»
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.