Fawkes deposited him in his private chambers, and he sighed. "What a tragedy." Albus Dumbledore said more to himself than the Phoenix. He had just spent the evening with Nigel and Rebecca Granger.

The two dentists had been devastated upon receiving the news of their only child's death. He imagined that the entire ordeal must have seemed like a nightmare gone wrong for the two muggles who, until a few hours ago had no-idea of the existence of trolls.

Pouring a glass of brandy, and stepping into his office, the headmaster wasn't the least bit surprised to see his potions master had made himself comfortable.

"Good evening, Severus." Dumbledore greeted without his usual cheeriness.

"I assume you've heard the terrible news?" The question was rhetorical, he knew Minerva had informed the staff of that evening's tragedy.

"I have."

"And do you have any theories on how a Mountain Troll was able to make its way to the dungeons?" While the Forbidden Forest backed up to the Scottish Highlands, he had rarely seen the slumberous creature travel past the Centaurs, let alone make it all the way to the castle.

A slight flicker of trepidation crossed the potion master's face, and Albus had to fight the urge to tell the man to just let it out.

"Recently I attended a meeting with Lucius in Knockturn Alley." Severus responded.

' I wasn't aware the first week of September constituted 'recent" he mused.

After all these years he wasn't entirely sure what to think of the former Death Eater. The man hadn't sought his protection till the very end of Voldemort's reign, and even then Severus hadn't sought him out of remorse.

"And what did Lucius have to say?"

"He is starting to prepare for his return." he didn't have to ask who Snape was referring to.

"So, he believes Voldemort's return is imminent?"

"He does." The younger man confirmed. "He has tasked me to obtain a list of ingredients and prepare several potions."

The elderly man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Did Lucius disclose any other details?"

"He did not. Although he did confirm that Quirrell is involved."

He showed no reaction at Snape's statement. The Board of Governors had forced Quirinus on him after Thaddeus McFadden's unfortunate accident in Berlin over the summer. Despite Quirrell's very average qualifications, he had no choice but to acquiesce to the Board.

"I've observed him for several weeks," Snape continued, "and it is my belief that the Dark Lord has somehow managed to gain influence over Quirrell."

"And it is your belief that Quirrell deliberately led the troll into Hogwarts?"

"It is."

"Tell me Severus," Albus started, seemingly changing subjects; "how is it that Voldemort has managed to exist all these years?"

Despite all his knowledge, the headmaster had to admit that he didn't know everything, and Severus Snape's experience with the darker aspects of magic was extensive.

"Based on the tasks I have been assigned, I have determined that the Dark Lord's plan isn't a resurrection, but a way to create a vessel that can support a soul." The man frowned before continuing; "I can only determine that when the Dark Lord tried to kill Potter, his soul was somehow ripped from his body, rendering him as some sort of bodiless wraith."

Albus was only mildly surprised by the man's conclusion. Without access to his own resources, it would be all but impossible for Snape to confirm his theory.

"Have you ever heard of a Horcrux, Severus?"

The man gave a slight shake of his head, and he continued.

"I believe that in the years before his death, Voldemort was able to successfully transfer several pieces of his soul to several inanimate objects, in case of his demise."

No emotion registered on Snape's face as he processed the news. "How does a Horcrux work?"

He sighed. "The truth is, very little is known about Horcruxes, and even less is known about how one is used." Reaching into his top desk drawer; he grabbed a thin, worn book and passed it across the desk.

"The only example of a Horcrux being used in practice, that I have found, was created by 'Herpo the Foul.' About 50 years after his defeat, a man named Theon Ramsay appeared claiming he was Herpo the Foul."

Seeing he had Snape's attention he continued.

"While he was unable to convince anyone of his true identity, he maintained his claim till the day he died." Gesturing towards the book that Severus was now holding, "Theon documented the process in that book."

"According to Theon; he had spent decades as a weak shade, after some time he was able to possess small animals, and eventually he gained the strength to completely take over a local wizard's body.

He describes the process of dominating the wizard as difficult. His piece of soul was fighting the other wizard's whole, if Theon Ramsay is to be believed than after some time the piece of soul belonging to 'Herpo the Foul' was able to successfully dominate that of the weaker man."

To his chagrin, Snape looked more interested than disgusted. "So, if your theory is correct, then the Dark Lord has retrieved a horcrux, and already completely possessed Quirrell?"

"It is."

"Then why is he at Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore pondered the question. "It is my belief that Voldemort intends to use Harry Potter in whatever ritual he uses to create a new body. I need you to let me know when Voldemort intends to put his plan into action."

"If you think the Dark Lord intends to use Potter. Then why are either of them still at the school?"

"Severus I would rather be in a position to monitor the situation, then let Voldemort know that I am aware of his plans."

Snape sighed. "I'll write to Lucius this evening."

Dumbledore smiled grimly. "Please do it tonight. Best he hears about tonight's events from you."

Harry avoided the common room over the next couple of days, but now that the weekend was coming to an end, he had to face his roommates.

Harry had walked into lunch the next day to nervous stares and whispers. It hadn't taken long for Katie Bell to remember that she had told Harry where to find Hermione, only minutes before her death. And while nobody had accused him of killing Hermione yet, it was only a matter of time until someone grew bold enough to proclaim him a murderer.

The worst part is he had nobody to talk to. Nobody to share his grief with. Nobody to tell him it wasn't his fault.

He'd never felt so alone.

Growing up with the Dursleys had taught him how to be alone; but it wasn't till he met Hermione that he understood the difference between being alone and feeling alone. He had had someone to laugh with, to do homework with, and to confide in - now he'd never see that person again and he didn't know what to do.

Harry had felt so hopeless against that troll. He'd thrown every spell he had known and seen no results. His weakness cost Hermione her life.

Wiping a tear from his cheek, Harry composed himself, answered the riddle, and entered Ravenclaw tower.

He had barely walked through the door when Goldstein started on him

"So, the murderer returns."

And there it was. Someone had finally accused him of killing Hermione. Anger started to build inside him. ' How could he accuse me of murder?'

"What the hell are you talking about, Goldstein?" he sneered; half the common room was paying attention now, ' better make a statement while I can,' he thought to himself.

"Hermione was my best friend, Goldstein. You have no idea what happened."

"I know that you were seen going into the girl's bathroom, and a few minutes later a student was dead."

"Come off it, Anthony." Corner pleaded from his side. "Potter didn't kill Hermione, you heard what Dumbledore said."

"Then he was too incompetent to stop it." Goldstein replied thoughtfully.

Harry's rage boiled over and he nearly cursed him on the spot. " Fuck you, Goldstein."

Gripping his wand, he took another step towards the boy.

"I threw every spell I knew at that troll, that's at least twice as many as you even know - and nothing worked!

The black-haired boy scoffed; "a braggart as always, Potter."

"What's your problem with me Goldstein? You hate me, and we barely even know each other."

"You're a show-off Potter! Always the first to get things right in class, walking around like you're better than everyone else! I'm sick of it!"

"Bullshit Goldstein. You've been glaring at me since before classes even started."

"You're delusional, Potter." Goldstein spat as Corner dragged towards the dorms.

"Do you think I'm a murderer, Boot?" He said, turning to the only other Ravenclaw first year around.

"Of course not."

"But you don't blame me?" Harry said, a bit of hope creeping into his voice.

"Of course not, I don't think anybody really expected you to be able to stop a troll. Anthony just doesn't like you."

"Do you know why, though? I was being honest with him; we've barely said a word to each other."

Terry sat down on the leather couch next to him. "What do you know about the Goldstein's?"

"Literally nothing." Was his quick reply.

"Your grandfather, Fleamont was supposed to go into business with Anthony's grandfather in the 1960's." Boot explained. "Fleamont backed out after he had a chance to ride one of Devlin Whitehorn's brooms."

"I guess I don't understand how that's relevant to me."

Terry was looking at him like he was an idiot; "of course it's a big deal! Antonio Goldstein tried to sue Devlin, saying he stole his prototype, your grandfather sided with Whitehorn in the Wizengamot, then bought a minority stake in Nimbus! The Goldstein family would be rich if it weren't for your family."

"And that's my fault?" He said, confused.

"Of course not. But they've never recovered, and the two of you share a dorm."

They read comfortably for a little while before Terry broke the silence.

"Would you mind helping me with transfiguration?"

Harry thought about it for a second, he could really use someone to talk to from his own house.

He shrugged. "Why not."

Harry was lost. Twenty minutes ago, he had exited a secret passage that had led him to an unfamiliar part of the castle.

Empty portraits and unused classrooms made this part of the school seem like an abandoned building, he thought to himself.

Not that he minded; the last week and a half had been difficult; between the wary looks and quiet whispers directed his way, the lack of life in this part of the castle had suited him just fine.

Lost in his thoughts as he turned a corner, he was greeted by the sight of Albus Dumbledore, who was seemingly inspecting a portrait of two drunk wizards attempting to duel.

"Ahh Harry, just the person I was looking for!" The headmaster exclaimed without turning around.

How Dumbledore could possibly be looking for him while strolling empty corridors was lost on him, but he greeted the ancient wizard warmly, nonetheless.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster."

The man in front of him was ancient; bright yellow robes with black stripes made the man in front of him look like a bumblebee.

"It's not often students wander to this part of the castle." The headmaster stated, leaving him to answer the unasked question.

"I got lost," he replied with a shrug, "where are we?"

"We are on the fourth floor, in what used to be the transfiguration hallway. This," he said gesturing to an old classroom, "used to be my classroom." The man said fondly.

"You used to teach transfiguration, sir?"

"Oh yes, for nearly 20 years! Outside of teaching, transfiguration has always been my other passion. Professor McGonagall has mentioned that you're quit the transfiguration student yourself!"

His cheeks colored lightly at the praise; "I don't know about that. I just like to study and try and do my best."

The elderly man just smiled. "How have you been, Harry?"

The quick change of topic caught him off guard, but he recovered. "I'm doing okay, sir."

Dumbledore stared at him for a long second before a sad smile crossed his face. "A most unfortunate tragedy, my boy. We are very fortunate that you weren't hurt."

Anger boiled up within him. ' Fortunate? Hermione died and I'm fortunate that I wasn't hurt?"

"I don't know how the incident could be fortunate, sir." He growled. "Hermione died."

How could the headmaster seem so blasé about the whole situation?

"The death of your friend was absolutely tragic." He said sadly. "But it doesn't do well to blame yourself, Harry."

He sighed sadly. He had tried not to blame himself, but he couldn't help but feel as though if he had studied harder, practiced more, and been a bit quicker than his friend would still be alive.

"It's hard, headmaster. Hermione was my first friend, and I can't help but feel as though I could have done something to stop the troll."

Dumbledore looked at him sadly; "trolls are exceptionally difficult for a full-grown wizard to handle on their own, let alone a first year. You performed admirably. But you must try and move on; how would Ms. Granger act if she thought you blamed yourself for her death?"

He smiled at that. "She'd probably haunt me." He said with a laugh.

"Exactly." Dumbledore said, suddenly turning serious. "All we can do in times of tragedy is remember the good times and do our best to move on."

Harry nodded; while he didn't feel all that much better, he saw the wisdom in the headmaster's words.

"How did the troll get in the school, sir?" The question had been bothering him for days, and he still couldn't see how a troll managed to slip into Hogwarts unnoticed.

Dumbledore seemed to eye him curiously for a moment before deciding on his words.

"I have many theories, Harry. But it is my belief that Voldemort, in his quest to return to power, meant to use the troll as a diversion for some other means."

They were sitting in Dumbledore's old classroom now. A couple waves of the ancient wizard's wand had repaired a few desks and removed the thick layer of dust that had been there only moments before.

He was shocked. 'Isn't Voldemort dead?' he thought to himself.

"Sir I thought," he said, pointing at his scar, "that he was dead?"

From behind the old wizard's glasses, Harry swore he could feel that the headmaster had wanted to tell him something, but a second later the look was gone, and Dumbledore was speaking once more.

"Lord Voldemort took many steps to ensure that he wouldn't be so easily defeated; and I fear that it is only a matter of time before Voldemort is able to make a full recovery."

They sat in silence for several moments before Dumbledore spoke up once more.

"Professor Flitwick tells me he has been giving you exercises to build your strength? Would you mind demonstrating for me."

Harry smiled. With Flitwick's help he had been able to greatly improve his casting.

"Of course, sir. Would you mind conjuring a goblet for me?"

With a casual flick of his wrist, Dumbledore conjured a medium sized goblet.

Harry was impressed, that level of control, with seemingly no effort put into perspective just how little he knew.

Gripping his phoenix and holly wand loosely, Harry quickly transfigured the goblet in front of him into a pincushion, before transfiguring that pincushion into a bright, red apple. Banishing the apple across the room, he rapidly went through his disarming, stunning, and shield charms before finishing the exercise with a reducto, bombarda, and aquamenti.

All the while Albus Dumbledore watched him intently, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Very good Harry!" the man beamed. "Your wand work was flawless, and your spells weren't lacking in power. Most of those spells are not on your first-year syllabus, correct?"

He smiled. He was almost through with his first-term second year charms, transfiguration, and defense coursework, and had done quite a bit of independent research as well.

"No sir." he said with pride.

"May I make a few suggestions, Harry?"

He tried to contain his excitement - having an opportunity to learn directly from Albus Dumbledore wasn't something he was about to pass up.

"When you banish your apple, quickly follow up with a reductor while it's in the air, it will help with your aim." At this he quickly demonstrated what he meant, before continuing. "I would also give these spells a try." He said as he jotted down some directions on a piece of parchment that had just appeared. "They will help you significantly, especially if you plan on trying out for the dueling team next year."

"Now, I believe it is time for dinner. If you'll follow me, Harry, I'll escort you to the great hall."

Avis! She heard her opponent bellow as a small flock of birds flew out of her opponent's wand.

Depulso! Lily cried. She felt a burst of magic erupt from her wand. 'It worked!' She thought to herself. She was so shocked that she barely didn't have time to avoid the disarming charm sent her way.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Lily smiled despite the loss as Daphne tossed her back her wand.

It was the last meeting of the term, and for the last few weeks the first years had been dueling each other for practice.

"You've gotten better." The blonde girl replied casually. "When did you learn the banishing charm?"

She smiled; "that's the first time I've been able to get it to work."

Daphne frowned. "Did Potter teach you that?"

Lily smiled again; "we went over the wand movements a few days ago, I knew I could do the spell, I just hadn't been able to till tonight."

"Do you think he'd be a challenge for me?"

Lily thought for a second, Daphne considered herself to be the top first year duelist in the school, and while she was certain Daphne would win, she felt it would be close.

"I don't think so, Daphne." She said, deciding to play it safe. Daphne Greengrass was too proud to hear the truth, and she didn't want to get into an argument now.

The green-eyed girl gave her an approving nod, before turning to watch the boy in question.

Harry was dueling with Macmillan, and from the looks of it, things weren't going well for the Hufflepuff boy who was pounding Potter's shields with every spell he knew.

The second there was a break in the action, Harry went into motion, " Expelliarmus!" She heard Harry say, watching as his spell crashed harmlessly into the other boy's shield.

Undeterred, Potter cast the several more times in rapid succession. A few seconds later Harry was holding the Hufflepuff's wand, the duel over.

Next to her she saw Daphne observing Harry with renewed interest.

"You lied to me." She heard her friend say from her right.

"I'd still win, but Potter would be a worthy opponent." Lily raised an eyebrow, like their head of house, Daphne Greengrass wasn't one to pay compliments.

"You could gather that from less than ten seconds? He only used one spell!" How could she gather anything useful off watching him cast one spell?

"It's his casting speed, his wand never stopped moving." The slightly chubby blonde stated. "He's obviously been doing some practice."

And he had, she thought, remembering how she had come across him practicing third year transfiguration in an empty class a few weeks earlier.

"I'm going to go talk to him. I'll see you back in the common room." And with that she made her way towards the front of the hall where Harry was talking to Terry Boot.

"Hi Harry, Boot." She said calmly, acknowledging each boy. "You're getting really quick."

He shot her a small grin as Boot excused himself.

"How did your duels go?" Curiosity evident in his voice.

A broad smile graced her face at his question, showing off a perfect set of pearly white teeth.

"0-3!" She said with cheer, and almost laughed at Harry's confused look.

"I was dueling Daphne, she's really good." She added. "But I WAS able to banish her flock of birds back at her during our last duel." Going none for three really should have bothered her more, but she wasn't a dueler, she knew that.

He smiled at her as they slowly headed towards the dungeons.

"Thanks for all your help with astronomy." She grimaced. The boy was hopeless at astronomy, if it hadn't been for her help, she was certain he would have barely scraped by with an 'Acceptable.'

"No problem. How do you think the exam went?"

He shrugged. "Okay. I think I'll get an Outstanding, thanks to you."

"Then you obviously cheated." She replied, rolling her eyes. "You're not nearly good enough at plotting constellations to get an Outstanding."

"Naw, you're too good at covering your work for me to cheat," he replied as she swatted his arm, "plus your standards are too high, I think I did well."

"My standards are not too high, Potter! Yours just aren't high enough!" She really had come to enjoy their banter. Harry's determination, and a surprisingly dark sense of humor meshed well with her perfectionism, as Harry called it.

"So, are you prepared for tomorrow?" He asked.

Admittedly she was nervous. While she had improved, wand classes weren't her forte.

"I should be fine in charms," she said thoughtfully, "though transfiguration is going to be difficult."

"So, Harry," she started, as they turned the corner to the corridor leading to the Slytherin common room, "got any plans for Christmas?"

He frowned, and she wondered what she could have said.

"I'll be staying at Hogwarts." Was his quick reply.

She was too curious not to ask, 'why would he stay here over Christmas?'

"You're not going to visit family?"

His frown turned into a scowl; "my relatives aren't very fond of magic; I wouldn't go there even if they welcomed me."

It was her turn to frown. "So, you live with muggles then?"

Stopping in front of the portrait leading to her common room, Harry turned to look her in the eyes.

"Do you have a problem with muggles?" His question wasn't that surprising, considering the reputation of Slytherin.

She didn't have a problem with muggles.. She didn't think. Coming from a pureblood family meant that she had never really interacted with them.

She thought about the best way to respond for a moment. "I don't have a problem with muggles, I don't think. I grew up a witch, I've never had to associate with them before." She thought for a second before adding; "although I don't see the need for me to associate with them either. They have their world; I don't need to explore it."

They stood there quietly for a second, hopefully he didn't take offense, but she spoke the truth.

"Does that bother you, Harry?" She asked, more than a little curious about his response.

"Not really…" He said slowly. "I can see why you wouldn't want to live interact with muggles, there's not really a point. You're not a pureblood supremacist, are you?"

The question shocked her, although she didn't know why, the conversation had been heading in this direction, and it was a natural question to ask. Still, it was rather a touchy subject.

"I believe in magical supremacy." Was the response she went with. "I only have issues with muggleborns that come into our and have no interest in assimilating to society. I can't understand why so many muggleborns choose to live their lives between the two worlds."

"Why does it bother you? You just said that you've had no interaction with the muggle world, so why would it matter how they choose to live their lives?"

His tone was more curious than accusatory, though she still frowned slightly. "Our society is stagnant. In the past, muggleborns would seamlessly integrate into society, very few saw blood as an issue. We all came from a muggleborn somewhere down the line. Even the staunchest blood purist must admit that. Take the Moon family. I'm the first pureblood in my family."

His confused look gave her the confidence to continue.

"My great-great Grandpa was a muggleborn. I'm a fourth-generation witch, after 3 generations, your family is considered pureblood."

Harry looked thoughtful. "I didn't know that." He acquiesced. "I just assumed there was some racial component, you know, because of Voldemort."

She flinched at his name. "The Dark Lord was a genocidal maniac who perverted the doctrine of the Traditionalist Party to fit his bigoted agenda. Nothing more, nothing less."

She smiled as she stepped into her common room.

"Good luck tomorrow, Harry."

The great hall was unusually quiet the last morning of term as most of the students took the opportunity to do some last-minute studying before that day's final.

Harry, however, was reading the Daily Prophet. Taking a bite of eggs as he turned the page, he heard Terry sigh in mild disgust next to him.

"Remind me to teach you some etiquette."

"What do you mean?" He mumbled, mouth still full of eggs.

"I shouldn't be able to hear you eat. And you definitely shouldn't be talking with your mouth full." Was the brunette's quick reply.

Harry rolled his eyes. Over the last few weeks, he had discovered that Terry Boot was a wealth of information. The boy seemed to know everything about the wizarding world.

"Well excuse me, Mr. Manners." He said, returning to the newspaper in front of him.

"Anything interesting?" Terry asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Apparently the Board of Governors are meeting with the Headmaster on Boxing Day."

The other boy was silent for a minute as he read. "It looks like they finally found an excuse to try and force Dumbledore out." Terry mused.

"Why would they want to do that?" His limited interactions with the headmaster hadn't given him the impression that they needed a change.

Terry shrugged. "He's getting old, and there's a group of families that think it's time to retire."

"Just because he's old doesn't mean he can't be a good headmaster."

Terry just gave him another shrug. "Well.. with Hermione's death," he said cautiously, Terry knew how sensitive he was about the topic, "they probably sense an opportunity. The board has been trying to push out Binns and Filch for years, and there are plenty of people who think Hogwarts standards are slipping."

Harry thought about it; he hadn't encountered Filch very often, but he could understand the attitude towards their history teacher, the ghost clearly wasn't concerned with the quality of their education."

"What do you think will happen?" He asked Boot, who had already returned to his charm's notes.

"Probably nothing." Was his reply. "They've been trying for years, nothing's worked yet."

The room began to fill up around him as the Board of Governors arrived.

Albus Dumbledore sighed. He had expected the meeting in the wake of a child's death, but he wasn't looking forward to it. He fully expected that Lucius Malfoy and Octavius Nott had plans to make changes.

The Hogwarts Board of Governors was comprised of 7 members, tasked with ensuring that the school maintained its standing as Europe's premier magical school.

With the arrival of Elizabeth Fawley, Dumbledore banged his gavel, and called the meeting to order.

"Good evening, everyone. I hope you and your families had a wonderful Christmas." He looked around the room; he knew he could count on Longbottom, Bones, and Abbott for support; while Nott, Malfoy, and Flint would undoubtedly challenge him at every turn.

As was normal during these meetings, the two groups would be competing for Elizabeth Fawley's vote to be the tiebreaker during any disputes that may arise.

While the other six members had predictable ideals. The youngest member of the Board of Governors was more calculating than the rest, making her the groups only wildcard.

Hearing various greetings from the Board, he continued with the formalities; "we are gathered here at Hogwarts on the 26th of December 1991 to convene a special meeting of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, officially called for by one Octavius Nott on the 21st of December 1991."

Turning to the thin-haired middle-aged man, he continued the familiar diatribe expected at these self-important meetings; "Lord Nott, the floor is yours."

Octavius Nott was a skilled politician, he had to admit. Unlike Flint and Malfoy, Octavius Nott had never been publicly accused of being a Death Eater, despite his obvious political leanings, and rumored financial support to Voldemort. Escaping formal accusations meant that the Nott family hadn't experienced any negative public feedback, allowing Nott's family to thrive in the years after Voldemort's first fall.

"Good evening everyone. I have called this meeting to review recent activities at Hogwarts, as well as to discuss the safety, and education of our children." His voice was calm, but captivating. Lord Nott had always been a skilled orator.

"The first order of business is the events that transpired on the evening of the 31st of October. Headmaster, would you mind explaining what transpired?"

Albus sighed, Halloween had been the worst day in his over 50 years as an educator. The death of a student weighed heavily on his conscious.

"On the day in question, Professor Quirrell entered the scheduled staff meeting several minutes late, he proceeded to inform us that a Mountain Troll had found its way into the dungeons."

He was interrupted by Amelia Bones. "And why didn't the Defense professor handle the situation personally?" The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement inquired.

Dumbledore smiled inwardly; "That is something you would have to take up with Quirinus, Madam Bones."

"I was under the impression," Jacob Abbott began, "that Professor Quirrell recently spent a class period covering the practical side of defending against a troll. Surely he could have stopped its advance?"

At this Jedediah Flint spoke up, "Lord Abbott, it isn't practical to expect one professor to take on a fully-grown Mountain Troll, Professor Quirrell took the most logical approach to a dangerous situation, we cannot fault him for this."

The headmaster looked around the room, taking in the immediate reactions of the rest of the Board. He frowned slightly as both Fawley, and surprisingly, Augusta Longbottom, nodded their heads in agreement at Flints words.

"Upon being informed of the intrusion. I directed Professor Quirrell to show myself, and Professor McGonagall where he had seen the troll, while asking the rest of the professors to split into pairs and search the castle. Upon arriving in the dungeons, we heard a scream, followed by some crashing sounds. At that point we followed the noise to its source."

"And that's when you encountered a deceased Ms. Granger and an unconscious Mr. Potter?" Lucius Malfoy spoke for the first time, Albus couldn't help but notice that the normally talkative man had not tried to take charge of the meeting yet. 'They're trying a new approach' he thought to himself.

"Yes. At that point I disposed of the troll and ordered Minerva to escort Mr. Potter to the medical wing, while I went to inform the DMLE of the tragedy."

"I can confirm the last part of the story." Amelia Bones spoke up. "We talked for several minutes before me, and several auror's went to investigate."

He gave the women a quick smile. Amelia Bones was exceptionally non-partisan and held credibility with almost everyone in the Ministry.

"Have you been able to determine how the troll was able to breach the walls of Hogwarts?" Fawley spoke up.

"The investigation is ongoing; however, it is my belief that the troll got lost in the forest, and in its confusion, ended up in the castle." It was a weak response, he knew, but letting his adversaries know that he was onto their plans was hardly a good idea, even if it may help him in the short-term.

Seemingly content with the answer, Octavius quickly pushed forward. 'I wonder if he is aware of Malfoy's plan?' He thought to himself.

"These things can happen." Nott said, to the agreement of Flint, Malfoy, and surprisingly Jacob Abbott. 'Abbott doesn't want to consider an alternative.' Albus thought to himself, 'it's easier to accept the simple answer than to believe in a conspiracy.'

"What the Board would like to know," the professional politician continued, "is what steps is the school taking to ensure that a tragedy like this doesn't occur again?"

Despite their political differences, the rest of the Board nodded their heads in agreement at Notts words - except for Fawley they all had children attending school.

"After an internal review of our safety procedures, we have decided to double the number of staff and master's candidates on patrol during the day, and I have reached out to Beacourt & Macmillan to run an independent review of all of our safety policies, encouraging them to make any suggestions they deem necessary." In his opinion, he had gone above and beyond what was necessary to meet his duties as Headmaster.

"That's all well and good, Albus. But what about during the night? What procedures are you taking to prevent an accident while most of the castle sleeps?" Elizabeth inquired.

' That sounded a bit pre-meditated' he thought, ' is Fawley working with Nott, Malfoy, and Flint?' If that was the case, then he had already lost the battle.

"The staff and prefects will continue their nightly patrols. And I have asked Argus Filch to monitor the obvious points of entry."

"A squib is the school's first line of defense?" Flint frowned. "That hardly seems practical."

"Argus has a way to contact me directly, and if any issues shall arrive, I'll be able to respond in mere seconds."

His response seemed to placate Abbott and Longbottom, but the others looked unconvinced.

"Albus, I think I speak for most of the room when I say that having the squib as Hogwarts first line of defense hardly inspires confidence." Malfoy, Flint, and Fawley nodded their heads in agreement at Notts proclamation.

"The school needs several capable individuals in case the worst should occur," turning to Amelia Bones, Nott continued, "Madam Bones, would it be possible to station a few auror's in the school to protect our children?"

Amelia Bones frowned; "unfortunately, Lord Nott, the Hogwarts Charter specifically states that Hogwarts is to act 'without interference from the Ministry of Magic.' My office can increase the number of auror's patrolling Hogsmeade, nothing more."

Octavius nodded sagely. "Then may I make a suggestion?" Seemingly curious, Augusta Longbottom gestured for him to continue, Nott gave her a slight smile.

"Daniel Avery just completed a lengthy stay in St. Mungo's, and has been placed on medical leave from the auror corps for the next six months, isn't that right, Amelia?" The woman in question nodded her head.

"With the Board's approval, I would like to suggest that Avery be given the task of acting as additional security for the remainder of the year."

"Unfortunately, Octavius" Dumbledore spoke up "Hogwarts cannot afford to add any additional staff at this time."

While Daniel Avery was too young to be a Death Eater, his father and grandfather were some of Tom's earliest, and most loyal, supporters.

"Fortunately," Jedediah sneered, "the Board of Governors can authorize the necessary funds to protect our children."

He sighed; he knew he had lost this battle. "Alright, all of those in favor of adding Daniel Avery to the staff for the rest of the year?"

He frowned again as seven hands shot up in the air in favor of the appointment.

"Very well, please inform Mr. Avery to meet me in my office in two days' time. I will inform the house elves to prepare a room for him. Now if there's nothing else I'd like to get back to preparing for the return of the students."

"Actually, Albus." Lucius Malfoy cut him off with a vicious smile. "I believe now would be the perfect time to discuss the abysmal marks most of our children have been receiving in history. Over the last decade, Hogwarts has produced the lowest marks on the continent in the subject."

"I must agree with his assessment, Headmaster." Jacob Abbott, in a surprising move, was concurring with Malfoy, "I have expressed my concern with allowing a ghost teach our students many times."

"And I understand your worries, Lord Abbott, Lord Malfoy. However, I have been unable to find a suitable replacement."

" Anyone would be a suitable replacement at this point." Bones grumbled.

"Regardless, this is an issue that will have to be discussed at the end of the year."

"I don't think so, Dumbledore. The Board has taken it upon us to convince a well-respected historian to come out of retirement."

"And who, pray tell, would that be, Lucius?" Albus smiled, there weren't many historians willing to teach at Hogwarts. Contrary to their belief, he had been trying to find a replacement for Bins for some time.

"Why Cantankerous Nott, of course." The blonde-haired man said triumphantly. "Master Nott has graciously agreed to take over the History post effective at the beginning of the term, should the board approve his hire."

"Absolutely not!" Augusta Longbottom had been mostly quiet to this point but was now shouting. "Cantankerous Nott is a bigoted farce, and I will not have my grandson learn from him!"

"Cantankerous Nott is the most well-respected historian in the British Isles, Augusta. There isn't a man alive who knows more about our society's foundation than him." Was Flints harsh response.

"Regardless, Jedediah, you have to admit that Cantankerous' controversial past would not be in the best interest of the students." Dumbledore responded.

"Controversial past, Dumbledore? There was a time when his books were on every student required reading list."

Albus looked around the room; feeling confident, he called the issue to a vote.

Two minutes later he surveyed the room in disappointment, he had been overruled 4-3.

"Very well, please have Mr. Nott report to my office tomorrow morning, we have much to discuss.

Aquapilatum! He nearly screamed, twirling his wand in a counterclockwise circle, and finishing with a jab; a small ball of water limped out of his wand, weakly hitting the wall in front of him.

Harry frowned. He had been practicing this spell for the last two days, and he still couldn't produce the desired results. The spell was supposed to hurl a giant ball of dense water at his opponent, yet he hadn't been able to manage it.

Hearing a noise from the doorway, Harry frowned quickly checking the time.

"You're early." He said without turning around.

"Only a few minutes." Was her confident response.

Turning around he was greeted with a pretty pair of pearly whites and blue eyes. He smiled back at her.

"Besides, I didn't feel like trying to explain the magical properties of Unicorn horns to Blaise again… what were you practicing." Lily continued.

"A water spell from the book you gave me. I haven't been able to get it to work properly, though, he frowned."

" Defending with Offense" by Ophelia Greengrass was his second favorite Christmas gift. The book was a compendium of spells, diagrams, dueling, and battle strategies comprised by one of the most infamous witches of the last hundred years.

"What's Ophelia Greengrass's relation to Daphne?" He questioned. While he hadn't had a conversation with the blonde-haired Slytherin, he knew from Lily that she fancied herself to be the best dueler in their year. 2 months ago, he may have disagreed, but if she was being taught by one of Grindelwald's disciples than Harry would have to re-evaluate that line of thinking.

"She was her great aunt." Lily replied. "Daphne worships her."

" Was her great aunt?"

Lily pondered her response for a second; "she was killed by a former student before the Dark Lord attempted to kill you."

"So how does Daphne worship the woman?"

"She's seen Ophelia duel through her families pensieve. Besides," she said, pointing at the book sitting on the desk in front of him, "Daphne has read every book and note the woman ever wrote."

"Is that why she thinks she can beat me in a duel?" Was his amused response, he hadn't been able to duel her yet at the club and was looking forward to the chance.

"Partially. I know she bragged to Malfoy about receiving some training from her father over the holiday."

He grimaced at the mention of Draco Malfoy. The boy had way too much confidence for his mediocre abilities.

"Why would she have to brag to Malfoy?" He questioned.

Lily groaned. "He's been telling everyone in the common room how a special group of Slytherin's has been training with Daniel Avery all term, Daphne was just telling him how unimpressed she was."

He sighed. The snakes could be just as petty as his roommates, he supposed. Besides Terry, the other first year claws had done their best to minimize their interactions with him.

Harry decided to change topics. "What did you want to work on today?"

"I'm having trouble with this week's transfiguration work." She frowned. "I've done the reading but can't seem to get it right."

He gestured for her to show him.

Long, pale, fingers waved her wand dramatically. Speaking the incantation and finishing with a slight twirl, the girl frowned as the book in front of her changed into a large, thick wooden matchstick.

"Your wand movements are too broad, and you're not concentrating enough on changing the size of your transfiguration." He took his wand out, demonstrating once with ease.

Five minutes later his pupil flashed him another pretty smile before tightly wrapping her arms around his torso.

He tensed slightly at the hug, not used to the contact, before asking her to work through the 7 spells he had her practicing.

' She's improved.' He thought as he completed the final spell. Since the beginning of term, he had had her and Terry doing the basic strengthening exercise Flitwick had shown him in September.

"I think it's time we added a couple new spells." Harry lectured. "I want you to add two spells in at the end."

Removing some parchment and a quill, he wrote down 'Lumos Maxima' and ' Surdis,' along with some basic instructions, before handing the parchment over to the black-haired girl.

"The first spell is an enhancement on the basic lumos charm. Instead of producing a soft gentle light for reading or getting around at night. Lumos Maxima will produce a blinding light. Surdis, on the other hand, will produce a deafening blast. When you combine the two spells together, you'll take away two of your opponent's senses for a few seconds, and if you're clever, you'll be able to end the duel or escape from danger."

Thirty minutes later Harry left the room with a headache, rubbing his eyes.

"Here." Lily said from next to him, handing him a vial. "It's a pain relief potion."

He accepted the vial graciously, downing it in one, he felt the potion begin to work a few seconds later and sighed. "Thanks"

"So, Harry, got any plans for Valentine's Day?" She seemed genuinely curious.

"No, I'll probably just stick to my routine. Why?"

"I heard the Weasley twins talking to themselves, apparently they have something planned for the ball."

He groaned. He had forgotten about the annual Valentine's Day ball, not that he planned on going.

"It won't affect me. I'm not going."

She nodded. "There's no real point in going. I don't think it's meant for first years, anyways."

They talked for a few more minutes before Harry took a left towards the kitchens to pick up a snack, while Lily continued towards her common room.

Terry rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as he finished up his essay on the founding of the Wizengamot for Professor Nott.

The surly professor had spent the last three and a half months complaining about how woefully behind their year was and had been doing his best to rectify that.

The Ravenclaw common room was packed, but quiet. Not for the first time he was appreciative of the silencing wards around the desks on the lower level.

"How many permanent seats are there on the Wizengamot?" Su Li asked the table.

"28, with another 11 members that are elected every 5 years." Corner replied, without looking up.

"Thanks, Michael.".

Terry sighed. He had been hoping to work in silence, but the other members of his year had joined his table. Thankfully they hadn't been too talkative.

It had been a strange year. He decided.

After the Granger girl's death, and his arrangement with Harry had been made public, the other Ravenclaw first years had treated him with kindness, but with distance. At least they weren't avoiding him like they were Harry.

"Did you hear that Professor Quirrell collapsed in class?" Patil gossiped from next to Su.

He hadn't heard that.

"When?" Goldstein spoke up.

"I heard from my sister that he collapsed to the floor in the Gryffindor's fourth year class this afternoon." The Indian girl whispered. "He ended up cancelling DADA for the rest of the day!"

"I didn't see him at dinner either." Corner replied, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Do you think we'll have class tomorrow?"

"I hope not! I could use the afternoon off!" Jones laughed.

Finished with his essay, Terry packed up his bag and headed to his dorm where he could read in peace.

Harry rubbed his forehead in pain as Professor Quirrell continued with his lecture. His headaches had been getting progressively worse over the last few weeks, and he was beginning to wonder if he should go to the medical wing with his concerns.

Grabbing Terry's attention, he asked him if he had a pain relief potion on him, seeing the other boy shake his head. Harry turned his attention back to the professor. ' I really need to learn how to brew that potion for myself' he thought to himself.

As Quirrell demonstrated how to shoot a wooden spike out of his wand for the class, he couldn't help but notice the small changes to the professor's personality since he had apparently collapsed in class a few weeks ago.

Gone was the man's slight stutter, replaced by a calm and confident demeanor; the man had become more menacing, making more demands of the class instead of calmly explaining theory. He wondered what had brought about the change.

The bell rang, and he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, deciding instead to see if Lily happened to be caring a pain relief potion on her.

"Hey Moon!" The girl in question turned away from Zabini and gave him a questioning look. "Do you happen to have any pain relief potion on you?"

She smiled, handing him a vial. He downed it quickly; his thoughts on Quirrell's behavior already forgotten.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office after watching an impressive Nymphadora Tonks claim her second consecutive school dueling title. For the first time since dueling had returned to the school, he felt good about the Hogwarts champion's chances in the broader all-school tournament this July.

He smiled at that. The last Headmaster to have that trophy reside in this office had been his predecessor, Armando Dippet.

He turned his attention to the magnificent piece of parchment sitting in front of him. Albus had been so impressed with the artefact, that he hadn't even bothered to give the Weasley twins detention when he confiscated it earlier in the year.

Dots with names underneath moved about the castle, but his eyes were focused on one Quirinus Quirrell. He fully expected that the man had been possessed by Voldemort, and Albus had taken to watching the defense professor every moment he had a chance.

He observed quietly as said man walked down a corridor on the seventh floor, almost directly above the charm's classroom.

To his surprise, Quirrell disappeared.

Acting on instinct, the aging man called for Fawkes, and disappeared.

He was in still in awe as he left the dueling pits, having just witnessed Tonks beat Bletchley to claim her second consecutive Hogwarts championship.

The duel had been magnificent, as both competitors brought a different style to the event.

Bletchley was thick and slow but made up for it with a seemingly endless array of shields, countering with some truly impressive transfiguration work.

The boy favored a defensive style. Relying on shields and countering his opponents attacks when he could. It was clear to Harry that he had been hoping for the smaller, faster witch to make a mistake.

Tonks, on the other hand, favored a distinct offensive style; choosing to duck and dodge, rather than wasting time with shields. Attacking without letting up until the seventh year Slytherin was completely exhausted before finishing him with a stunner.

The Hufflepuff's strategy, he had noticed, had been almost identical to the style Harry had read about in the book he had been given from Lily.

Climbing the stairs to the seventh floor, he was greeted by two identical mops of red hair, whispering frantically to each other.

He smiled as he observed the Weasley twins as he remembered hearing that someone at the Valentine's Day Ball, had charmed several cupids to follow Professor Snape around the great hall throughout the dance, singing the greasy man's praises in an off-key tune until the potions master finally lit the things on fire.

"Hi Fred, George." He greeted, as their eyes simultaneously snapped up, noticing his presence for the first time.

"Why Harry!" one of them replied, while the other bowed. "What brings you to this part of the castle?"

He shrugged; "Ravenclaw common room is around here."

That got their attention.

"You know you're our favorite first year Harry?" The other twin replied.

"What about your brother?"

They brushed him off. Taking turns responding to him.

"Ickle little Ronniekins isn't nearly as smart -

Or charming -

Or as good looking -

As you." They finished in unison.

Harry smiled. These two could always make him laugh.

"Stop buttering me up. What do you want?"

"What makes you think we want something?" The one with the freckle under his right eye responded.

He just stared at them, and they smiled.

"You did just say your common room is around here. Would you mind showing us where the entrance is?"

Like he would ever show these two where he slept, he had no intention of becoming a victim.

His scar briefly erupted in pain as the trio rounded the corner, just in time to see Professor Quirrell disappear into a room.

Having not noticed his pain, the twins looked at each other, a curious expression on their faces.

"Why George, did you know there was a room in this corridor?"

"I did not Fred."

Neither did Harry, for that matter. He had been taking this route to the common room since the beginning of the year, relishing the silence the normally empty hallway brought.

Walking to the spot where Quirrell had disappeared a minute ago, he wasn't surprised to notice that there was no visible door.

A few minutes later his scar exploded in pain; like someone had ripped his forehead open and was now stabbing his brain with hot knives. He howled in pain again as he heard a loud crack, as his right arm went limp, unable to grip his wand.

Starring up, through blurry eyes he saw Professor Quirrell standing above him with red eyes, clutching some sort of tiara and pointing his wand at him.

Albus Dumbledore arrived in the seventh-floor corridor with a flash. He had no time to act as Quirrell sent a bone-breaker at Harry Potter, hitting him in his wand arm.

"Please grab Harry and escort him to the medical wing, Mr. Weasley." He said to the ginger to his left as he returned fire.

The impromptu duel heated up as a familiar streak of green light left Quirrell's wand. Conjuring a stone wall to intercept the spell, he transfigured the debris into three wolves, sending them back at Quirrell, who dispensed of the animals quickly, only to get hit in the shoulder with several arrows.

' It would appear as though Voldemort is limited by the abilities of his host.' The ancient man realized as he dodged another killing curse, unleashing a trio of stunners in return.

' Contego' Quirrell verbalized, allowing the stunners to be absorbed into his shield, returning fire with an entrail expelling curse.

The wide-arcing, sickly green curse mixed its mark as Dumbledore returned fire with a series of bone breakers.

Quirrell dodged the first two nimbly, only to be caught in the neck with his final spell. A loud snap and a pool of blood told the headmaster that the man was dead.

A half second later Albus Dumbledore watched in horror as a black and purple wraith emerged from the dead man's body, hissing at him before disappearing a few seconds later.

He woke up to the rising sun on his face, and a dull throbbing in his right arm.

Grabbing his glasses, Harry saw he was sitting on a familiar cot surrounded by white curtains on three sides.

A woman with curly-black hair and a heart-shaped face that he recognized as Healer Adams was sitting in the corner reading a magazine.

Seemingly noticing he was awake, Healer Adams set her magazine down and offered him a slight smile.

"Good morning Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?"

' How did he feel?' besides the slight pain in his right arm, and the smallest tinge of a headache, he felt alright.

"Alright, ma'am. A little bit of pain in my wand-arm and head, that's it."

"As to be expected, Harry." This time she smiled more broadly. "You suffered a broken right arm, a bone-breaker curse, I suspect. You also have some slight head trauma. I'm afraid I don't know what caused that. But you'll make a full recovery."

She stood up. "If you'll stay here I'll have the elves fetch you breakfast. The headmaster wishes to speak with you."

A few minutes later he was eating bacon and eggs, trying to remember the etiquette lessons Terry had been giving him at mealtimes.

At about the time he was finishing his breakfast, and the pain in his head and arm was subsiding, Dumbledore stepped into his room, waving his wand in a complicated manner as the curtains emitted a light glow.

"What did you do, sir?" He asked. He suspected he had cast a ward of some sort, but he had never seen it done.

The headmaster offered him a warm smile; "A simple privacy ward, my boy. I want you to tell me about last night's events."

' Last night's events? Last night's events!" And then it all came back to him; the Weasley twins, his scar, Quirrell.

Looking the headmaster in his blue eyes, he felt a slight twinge, but he may have imagined it. "After the duels I was wondering the halls with the Weasley twins." He started

"A brave endeavor, Harry." Dumbledore said with mischief in his eyes. "But I suspect a pleasant one nonetheless." He gestured for Harry to continue.

"We made our way to the 7th floor, we turned a corner," he frowned, remembering the slight pain he felt as he turned the corner, "I felt some pain in my head; then the twins and I saw Professor Quirrell disappear through a door."

With a slight look of confusion on his face, he remembered how when they had arrived there was no door. They had spent nearly five minutes trying to figure out before Quirrell came out. "But when we had arrived the door was gone. Do you know where he could have gone, sir?"

"I think I might, Harry, but please continue."

"Anyways we spent a couple minutes looking for the door, but we never found it. Next thing I know, my head felt like someone was tearing it apart and stabbing my brain, and according to Healer Adams I was hit in the arm with a bone-breaker by Professor Quirrell, what happened, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore looked at him with over his half-moon spectacles, deep in thought.

"I believe, Harry, that you and your friends interrupted an attempt by Voldemort to resurrect himself."

"But that was Quirrell!" 'How could that have been Voldemort?'

"No, my boy. That was Voldemort, his soul had completely possessed poor Quirinus."

"Sir, how has he survived."

"Lord Voldemort's greatest ambition in life - even more than the power over others - is to achieve immortality. It had been my belief, a belief that was confirmed last night, that Tom had discovered some form of it."

"Tom? Sir."

"Voldemort's given name, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Many people don't know that he himself was a halfblood."

Taking a deep breath Harry asked the question he had been asking himself since he had heard his parents had been killed by Voldemort, only to be stopped by him. "Headmaster, why did Voldemort kill my family?"

A long moment passed, and Harry could see the indecision on the normally stoic headmasters face.

"Tom has always been a superstitious man, Harry. Even as a child he was fascinated by mysticism."

Dumbledore collected himself, trying to determine just how much he should tell the boy. "He has always been obsessed with immortality, so when one of his followers presented him with a prophecy that could involve him. He took steps to eliminate a potential threat. This prophecy, he believed, was regarding you and him."

Harry stared at the headmaster, mouth wide open. What- what does it say?

And Dumbledore told him the entire thing.

"And you believe that I can kill him?"

Dumbledore gave him another long look. "No. No I do not. At least not right now. You're very advanced for your age, but you don't have nearly enough power, skill, or knowledge to defeat him."

"But you believe in the prophecy?"

Dumbledore gave him an odd look; "it doesn't matter what I believe. Tom interpreted the prophecy to be true and involving the two of you."

A determined look overcame him. 'He would survive.'

"Sir is there any way to I can practice magic over the summer?"

Dumbledore offered him a smile. "Yes there is."

"I knew it!" He shouted with joy; "let me guess, you get Mr. Ollivander to remove the trace on my wand?"

"No, Harry…"

"Oh! I know! I go to Diagon Alley, or some really crowded place and the ministry will never be able to track my magical activity because of all the magic?"

"It doesn't work like that, Harry…"

He thought for a second. "Oh, I know. I go to some heavily warded home that blocks out ministry sensors?"

Dumbledore sighed; children came up with the strangest theories. "No, Harry. None of those things would work. I'll simply sign fill out the proper forms and gather your signature, I suggest you talk to Professor Flitwick, I'm sure you could come to some sort of arrangement with him as to a tutoring schedule. Now, if that's it, have a wonderful summer, Harry."

"Wait! Headmaster!"

Albus Dumbledore popped his head back in the room.

"That room, on the seventh floor, how does it work?"

The train had barely left Hogsmeade station when that damn bird appeared in his lab.

He groaned and placed the potion he was working on under a stasis charm.

Ten minutes later he was sitting in front of the headmaster.

"Severus, glad you could find join me."

' As if I had a choice.' He thought to himself. It wasn't as though sending Fawkes was a request.

"Of course, headmaster."

"I was wondering if you had heard from Lucius since last week's events?"

He had written to the man immediately after his conversation with Dumbledore at the beginning of last week, and had heard back from him almost immediately, requesting he join him for tea at Malfoy Manor this upcoming Wednesday.

"Lucius has requested I join him for tea in a few days." The he responded quickly, checking his watch, 'that potion will decrease in effect after 90 minutes under stasis,' he reminded himself.

"I know from our meeting at Christmas that he and Bellatrix were planning some event."

"Do you have any idea what it may concern?"

He frowned; Lucius had not confided in him. "I can only speculate, but Bellatrix has been obsessed with getting access to her vault for some time."

Dumbledore pondered his response for a moment; "alright, Severus. Please inform me if anything changes."

Severus Snape stood up, and with a slight nod, he turned and exited the office.