Power, Freedom and a French Flower

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?"