Chapter 7 – What is OP?

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Harry asked, from the couch in front of the fireplace, where he'd been waiting.

"Harry, you know that he's going to go tonight." Hermione tried, again. He was her best friend, but he seemed to not even care that the man could potentially gain immortality. He was obviously a dark wizard. She'd finally caved, and considered Quirrell the likely thief, too. His logic had infuriated her, at first, but she'd finally seen his reasoning for what it was. Snape was a childish man, who liked punishing children, for some sort of enjoyment, but Quirrell, the man that had caused Harry headaches, right in his scar?

"You're right, he will." Harry said. "He's there right now, actually."

"What!?" she asked, just as Neville came down from the boy's side.

"What's going on?" Neville asked. "Is he coming with us?"

"No." Harry said. "I'm warning you, not to go. Madam Pomphrey has already been notified, and she's currently talking to Professor McGonagall."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Secret." Harry said.

Hermione nearly screamed, these days, when he said that, and her eyes burned with sadness and anger. "Why?!" she asked. "Why can't you just tell me? Don't you trust me? Am I not your friend?"

Harry looked at her, for the first time diverting his gaze from the fire. Or, that's what it looked like. He had figured out the tracking and gone a step further. He was actually watching the man, himself. It wasn't perfect yet, but he could see a faded image with a stronger outline, moving through his map, in an area he'd not explored yet. He'd not stopped yet and was likely working his way through some sort of protections.

"Why can't you just trust me?" Harry returned. "Am I not your friend?"

"I trust you." Neville said, almost too quickly. Harry and Hermione were both his friends. His only real friends. He trusted them both, which was why he was torn, and wanted a peaceful resolution. "I… wouldn't mind knowing either, but I can understand if you don't trust me."

"I do trust you, and I could tell you a little bit, but I guarantee you that you will only have more questions, that I'll refuse to give you answers for." Harry offered.

"Tell me." Hermione said, instantly.

"I have discovered a unique magic." Harry said. "I claimed it as family magic and have been using it to keep an eye on the thief."

"Family magic?" Hermione asked. "What's that?"

Neville, however, had suddenly stood up straight. "Heir Potter, I formally apologize on behalf of myself, and my house, for the insult of enquiring after claimed and protected family magics." he said. "As my friend, I now claim the guilt of Hermione Granger, first of her house, and request your leniency."

"Oh, shut up, you idiot." Harry said. "I'm not a stuffy pureblood. You know that I don't hold your curiosity against either of you."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, still confused.

Neville quickly approached her, and stood between Harry and Hermione, looking at her. "Family magic is protected by law and magic itself. It's considered an insult to ask for information about it, and it's also an offense that Harry could bring up with the Ministry. I know he won't, but please, don't push this?"

"What are you talking about, 'protected by magic itself'?" Hermione scoffed. "Is this some sort of custom in the old families, or something? Harry doesn't follow that stuff."

"If he claimed it, it's protected." Neville said, seriously. "His family is ancient and noble. He's also the only heir to his family, like me. Hermione, I… I can't let you ask for more. This is dangerous. You could lose your magic!"

"Only if I wanted it, and only under certain circumstances." Harry said. "There's no chance that I'll do that, so forget granny's teachings around me, already. The fact is, I intend to share some of it with you two, at some point, but I have a condition."

"Condition?" Hermione asked. This was both confusing and hurting her feelings.

"Occlumency." Harry said. "Only once you've learned, applied, and mastered the art, will I give you access to this secret."

"Wait." Neville said, frowning. "You intend to use a grant?"

"I intend to share with my friends." Harry said. "Agree to the terms, and I will uphold my side, by granting you access."

Neville's frown deepened. "I… I don't have anything to trade." he admitted. He didn't doubt Harry could do it, but he'd never heard of a student being able to do so. He knew lords and heads of house were usually involved with such things, and there was usually some give and take, and negotiations.

"Friendship not enough for you?" Harry asked, smiling at the earnest boy. "If you want to go by pureblood tradition, I'd be willing for a brother, too, in blood. Your granny will likely not be happy, though."

Neville considered that. Finally, a small smile broke out on his face. "I'll do it." he said. "I'll protect your secrets, as family would, and expect you to do the same."

"A bargain is struck." Harry said, nodding. There was a feeling of power in the room, and even Hermione felt it, before it faded. "Heavy." Harry said, smirking and looking towards the fire, actually the interface.

"Can you tell us anything, without revealing your magic?" Neville asked, holding up a hand, before Hermione could speak, indicating for her to stay quiet.

"Hermione was right." Harry said. She liked hearing that. "There is a thief. Quirrell is currently working his way through protections to get to the stone. He's casting spells into the sky right now. Before, he did something at the door to the third-floor corridor and waited. Then he used some sort of fire spell, to get past one trap or another."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, Neville looked at her, and shook his head, minutely.

"Let her ask, Neville." Harry said. "There's no harm in asking, in my opinion. And it's simple, I put a new sort of tracking spell on him. I can see how he moves, and where he is, but not much else."

"That sounds impressive." Neville said, eyes wide. He didn't know of tracking magic like that, but then, he had literally just told them that it was new. "I would congratulate you, but then, I don't know if I should." he added, trying for a smile.

"Come sit here." Harry indicated next to him. "I'll show you."

"We'll not be endangering ourselves with this will we?" Neville asked. "Would we be complicit in breaking any laws?" His Grandmother's words, obviously.

"Well, I did place the tracker at the door, so, not really, no." Harry said. "If I'd cast it on him, I would have broken the law, but I just placed a tracker, in a place where nobody is allowed to go, so… I guess I broke school rules, but not the law."

'Minerva is asking a couple of difficult questions of Poppy.' the hat interrupted, while the other two walked closer. It didn't mind Harry showing them some of what he'd achieved. More support for the boy would be good. Occlumency, would also be good.

'Tell Madam Pomphrey that she can tell her that Harry Potter did something strange, or that I saw the man go there, while I snuck down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. I'll take the hit for her.' he responded.

'You know she won't do that.' the hat said.

'Tell her to hint then.' Harry said. 'She can insinuate me, without implicating me.'

'Better.' the hat allowed.

"So, what are you looking at?" Neville asked, as he sat on Harry's one side. Harry quickly manipulated the image to cover everything. All they'd see is the image of the map, and the slightly out-of-focus image of Quirrell. Then, he used a new feature, switching on the new built-in Lumos on the interface, and allowing them to see it. That had been a god-send, for when he helped Poppy with her projects. That, and a function to push the interface away, and make it stay in a location, as long as you were within a few meters.

"What?" Hermione, on his other side, gasped, as she saw the interface. It was a rectangle, like a computer monitor, or a television, with an image in it.

"This is my protected magic." Harry said. "What you are looking at, is something I invented. It can display quite a few things, but I can't tell you what, at this point. I'm only sharing this much, so that Hermione doesn't get you both killed needlessly." He still believed that the stone would not really be there. A decoy, maybe, but only a fool would keep the real stone in such a place, and then point it out to everyone in the castle.

"What spell are you using to show us this?" Hermione asked, as she looked at the image of Quirrell standing and directing something, a contemplative look on his face. Strangely, it seemed he wasn't stuttering.

Harry snorted but didn't answer.

"That's the secret, Hermione." Neville said. "He can't tell us."

"But that's not fair!" Hermione objected. She'd love being able to cast a spell like this.

"If you one day invent a spell that can create free electricity, and you use it to make the world a better place, but someone uses it to electrocute people, and murder them, or the government uses it to electrocute death-row inmates, would you not feel guilty?" Harry asked.

"No!" Hermione said. "I'd object, though. They have no right, if it's my…" she lost steam, as she got the idea. "Okay. Fine. But this is an image, not a tool for murder."

"When you create magic, Hermione, you can claim it." Neville said. "Let's go with this image… thing, Harry is showing us. Now that we know what it is, or, at least partially, we can't duplicate it. Magic won't allow us. Claimed magic is protected by magic itself. Any attempt to copy claimed magic, will result in your attempt always failing. It becomes impossible. Only Harry can grant us permission to use his invention."

"I'm assuming someone abused someone else's magic at some point, and magic decided to enforce the rule." Harry said.

'You're not wrong.' the hat added. 'It was before my time, but there is a story associated with it. I'll tell you later.'

"You talk like magic is alive." Hermione said.

"It is." Harry and Neville said, together.

"Magic is, at least partially, a sentient entity." Harry said. "Then there's your personal magic. You learn magic and how to use it, using wand-motions and words. Once your magic and you are in-sync, and you know how to cast a spell intimately, it becomes easier. Levitation was difficult for Ron, but now, he doesn't struggle at all. Professor Flitwick could cast that spell without a word, or a wand motion."

"But he's a Charms master." Hermione said, as she continued watching the image. "He probably learned some tricks."

"Probably." Harry allowed.

"He's right, Hermione." Neville said. "I've been to a duelling championship with my gran. The duellers practice their spells to the point that they don't need to say the words. Their wand movements are the only way to know what they are casting. That only comes with practice, until your magic knows what you want, when you cast a spell, without a word. Only truly gifted magicals can cast spells without the motion, or the words, and that's against the rules anyway. Only a rare few in those gifted people ever learn to do the same without a wand."

"Do magicals worship magic, then?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged, not knowing.

"Some do." Neville said. "I think in South-America, there are some that do that."

"Let's put it this way." Harry said. "Magic… how to put this? It's like a… dog? Dogs don't speak English, but they can be trained through repetition, right? Want the treat? Sit. Same with magic. It doesn't speak our language, or understand us, but with enough repetition, it starts to know what we're trying. I personally think that everyone has their own perspective, and that's why magic doesn't work the same for everyone. Why everyone starts from the same starting point."

"It sounds right, to me." Neville said. "What's he doing?" he asked, indicating the image.

"I don't know." Harry said. "I think… maybe, chess?"

"Why?" Neville asked.

"He keeps pointing and talking." Harry said. "He looks like Ron, playing wizard's chess. I think I saw him say 'rook', just now, too."

They watched for a bit.

"I think you're right." Hermione said. "He just said 'queen'."

They continued to watch, before the man smiled, and ran again.

"Think he won?" Neville asked.

"I don't know." Harry said. "I only see what you do."

They watched as the man continued to move, and Harry had to change the view, to follow.

"Is this a blueprint of the castle?" Hermione asked, having seen something in the background that looked familiar to her.

"Map." Harry said. "I made it to help navigate."

"Useful." Neville said. "Found anything interesting?" he asked.

"A couple of hidden passageways. Some are collapsed, though." Harry said. "I'll show you guys, some time."

They continued to watch, as the man continued on. He looked like he cast a few more spells, until he stopped, and seemed to just look at something.

"Looks like he's waiting." Hermione said.

"Probably another protection." Harry said. He was really hoping something stumped the man, before he got to the fake.

Fortunately, ten minutes later, the man was screaming and shouting angrily.

"Seems something stopped him." Hermione said, sighing. She looked at Harry, then. "I'm sorry." she finally said.

"What for?" Harry asked, frowning at her.

"Thinking you were wrong. For thinking you were hiding things from me, because you don't trust me." she said.

"Hermione, you're one of my first ever friends, and I value you, but I do need to protect myself and you, too." Harry said. "I'll tell you now, that this," he pointed at the image, "is just scratching the surface. There's a lot more. Some of the stuff this can do, could be very badly abused. By telling you this, I've now put you in danger, making me a bad friend. People would literally torture and kill, for some of what this can do. They'd torture you, and your parents, and kill them in front of your eyes, to get you to talk. That's why you have to learn Occlumency. To protect yourselves and my secret."

"What is occlumency?" Neville asked. He'd heard the term, knew it was some sort of obscure mind-art, but didn't know what it did.

Harry had thought the boy would know. "Well, it's to protect your minds from people reading them." Harry admitted.

"Wait, people can do that?" Hermione asked. She was still white in the face, after hearing about the possible torture and murder of her parents, should this magic get out, somehow.

"Professor Dumbledore, for one." Harry said, before he looked at Neville. "And Professor Snape."

Neville paled. "That's not fun news." he said, frowning. "Would they do that?"

"They've both tried with me." Harry said. "Many times, actually. That's why I learned Occlumency. I'll warn you now, though, that it won't be quick. It normally takes years to master, but if you get up to a certain point, I'll try and help you speed things up, I promise."

"When did you start?" Hermione asked.

"After Christmas." Harry admitted.

"But you said it takes years?" Hermione objected.

"I used this, to help." Harry said, pointing at the image of a pacing Quirrell.

"Then, teach us the spell, and we can learn it quickly, too." Hermione suggested.

"One problem, Hermione." Harry said. "To use this method, you need to already know how this works. Can you guarantee that you won't be read, in the time it takes you to learn it?"

"Then… just before school ends." Hermione tried. "You can show us, and we can do it fast, over the holiday." Neville cringed at the fact that she was still demanding this from him. He had been taught about things like this, though, so he knew to be damn careful.

"I would." Harry said. "If it wasn't for the fact that I accidentally did it quickly, after needing a lot of time teaching my magic how to do it, and then almost died, due to the process using nearly all of my magic, to the point that it almost drained me."

Neville paled. "It's that dangerous?" he asked.

"Using this, without a lot of knowledge, could potentially kill you in minutes, so I'll need time to explain things. Likely a few weeks, to months. In that time, if your minds are vulnerable, there is a chance of all the bad things, again." Harry said. He'd taken the time with Poppy, to help her ensure that never happened to her. It was a good thing, too. Her interface had started automatically trying to come up with solutions to medical issues, something her mind was predisposed to, and common ailments, and had started draining her magic, too. Fortunately, she'd caught it, before it could do to her, what it had done to him. She was both proud and ashamed, for hiding her perfectionism. It was a form of OCD, she knew, and an obsessive mind, was probably something she and Harry shared.

That had the other two going silent, as they watched and thought.

'Minerva and Poppy are close to the last chamber.' the hat said. 'They don't intend to go in, don't worry. Just keeping an eye to ensure he doesn't escape.'

'Why did they go there?' Harry asked, frowning. 'They should be staying away. This is a trap, right? Why put themselves in danger?'

'Because the Headmaster is still away.' the hat said. 'They don't want him leaving. Poppy is worried about… well, what might be in there with Quirrell.'

'This that thing you two keep talking around?' Harry asked.

'Sorry Harry, I can't tell you.' the hat said, again.

Harry just sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"It seems Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomphrey went into the third-floor corridor, to 'keep an eye.'" Harry said. Hermione sighed, in relief.

"How do you know?" Neville asked. "I thought you saw what we saw."

"Another function." Harry said, frowning. He knew his luck. He cared for Poppy, now. And suddenly, he wasn't indifferent. "Damnit!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Hermione asked, urgently. "Did something happen?"

"No… No, I'm just worried." Harry said. "Madam Pomphrey knows about this, because of the almost dying, thing. She's been helping me, to ensure that doesn't happen again. I like her, and now I'm worried."

"Can this spell help, somehow?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "It's possible." he said. "She has access to this, too. It was a grant, under the condition that it's not used for anything bad. She intends to use it for medical things."

"How will she use it, then?" Hermione asked, still burning with curiosity.

"I can't tell you." Harry said, as his eyes focussed on the image. Unfortunately, it seemed that the man was done waiting. He'd gotten a smirk, for a moment, and turned away.

'He set up a ward.' the hat said. 'He knows they are there. Minerva felt it. Poppy is trying to convince her to leave, but she won't. She can't tell her about how she knows.'

'Tell her she can tell her, if it will get her to leave.' Harry said. 'There's something really bad about Quirrell. You and I both know it. We have to wait for Dumbledore. He knows, right? He left on purpose?'

'I can't tell you.' the hat said. Fortunately, that confirmed it for Harry.

'Okay, tell Poppy I'm sending her something.' Harry said. 'I give her permission to use it to defend herself and McGonagall.'

Harry indicated and the image vanished. Then he started manipulating things.

"What's happening?" Neville asked, when the image disappeared.

"I'm sending help." Harry said, as he started confirming things and popped a few things over to the hat, who could then pass them on to Poppy.

"What help?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't answer, as he set up a quick and dirty modification to one of his spells from the spell-system and popped that over as well. Then, he activated the tracking view, and let the others see, again.

III-III

The attack had been expected, but Poppy couldn't see what Harry could, so she didn't know what he'd done, but an explosion had hit them both, in the troll's room. It was dead, and she didn't have time to look at Minerva's prone form, before Quirrell was on her.

"You're coming with me." he said, as he grabbed her by the hair, and stared pulling her along, ignoring McGonagall, because Poppy was the less likely threat, and the other woman was seemingly out, or dead.

"She needs help!" Poppy exclaimed, ignoring her own pain, as the man manhandled her.

"Me first." the man said, uncaringly.

"Why do this?" Poppy pleaded. "You can't think you'll escape. Dumbledore-"

"Will be delayed." the man said, smugly. "I had a couple of friends switch his portkey. He'll be trying to get to us, from Egypt."

'Poppy, hold on.' the hat said. 'Harry is sending something. You have permission to defend yourself, without risk to the grant.'

The man dragged Poppy back to the room, where a familiar mirror stood. He pulled her to the mirror and let go of her hair. "Look into the mirror and tell me what you see." he said.

"You're a monster." Poppy said, as she slowly picked herself up off the floor. "You don't know what you're facing either. You are not getting away."

"Oh, is that what you think?" the man sneered.

"I know." Poppy said. "He'll stop you. You, and that thing you're carrying."

"You know?" the man asked, looking shocked.

"She's been talking to Potter." a hiss of a voice said, from under his turban. "Let me speak to her."

"But, Master, you're not strong enough." the man pleaded.

"I have strength enough, for this." it hissed.

Quirrell swallowed, and nodded, as he started unfurling his turban.

Poppy took that moment, to pull her wand, but before she could do anything, Quirrell slashed his wand, and the wand was ripped from her hand, clattering to the floor on the far side of the chamber.

Then he continued to unfurl his turban.

Poppy looked at the face on the back of Quirrell's head, as it looked back.

'Don't waste your time, Poppy.' the hat said, urgently.

'Without my wand-' Poppy said back.

'Think, girl! You have backup, who sent you a gift.' the hat said. 'Look! Activate! Move!' it barked.

Poppy didn't need more encouragement. She activated her interface and saw three things, that had not been there before. They were even marked. 1, 2 and 3.

Knowing how Harry's mind worked, she activated the first one, hoping he'd sent her properly tested things. Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down.

'Good.' the hat said, being able to keep up with her enhanced perceived time. 'Your perceived time is influencing your perception of real time, and is being increased by a factor of ten. This is one Harry didn't intend to share, so it will need to be removed. Now, here's the plan-'

Voldemort was about to start talking, when the woman looked away, seemingly behind him. Looking through Quirrell's eyes, he saw nothing behind them. What was she looking at?

That's when things went badly for the possessed man and the spirit in his head.

The woman seemed to suddenly disappear, as she activated 2. For a moment, he thought she'd apparated, which should be impossible, only to spot a motion, seeing the woman reaching for and picking up her wand.

Quick as a flash, Quirrell tried to disarm her again, and he was successful, but only for a second. The wand had left the woman's hand, but she'd moved fast enough to catch it, again. Then she smirked at him.

"This is impossible!" the creature hissed. "Kill her!"

From Poppy's perspective, her magical reserves had only dipped by a quarter, but it was fading fast. It was also not a fun feeling, losing your power that quickly, but she didn't have a choice. Her mind was sped up, as was her body, and she suspected she was enhanced beyond what her body should be able to take. Harry must have done something, so that she could use the full capabilities, at the cost of way more power.

Still, with her mind accelerated, she had a moment, to think.

'The third one will require that you drop your wand to stop, so don't hold on, and keep an eye on your reserves.' the hat warned.

Poppy knew what that meant and activated 3, while pointing her wand. As a mediwitch, she was trained for precision, so when twenty near-simultaneous stunners left her wand, in less than a tenth of a second, and her magic dipped to half, she knew she needed to let go, because the spell was not stopping. She lifted her hand from it, where it slowly started to fall, seeming in slow motion, as the spells slowly moved towards its target's chest.

Quirrell quickly cast a shield, which held up for five of the stunners, but for Quirrell it looked like the spell just lost some power, dimming slightly as his shield shattered. The other fifteen stunners hit its target almost simultaneously. The hit not only knocked the man unconscious, but shot him back, through the mirror, shattering it, and towards the far side wall, at a tremendous speed.

Poppy had watched in fascinated horror as everything happened in slow-motion. He was going to hit the wall and break his neck at the speed he was travelling.

She ran towards him and caught the man. If she killed someone, it would be the end of her. Her oaths would not allow her to kill, even in self-defence, if she had any other option. She ensured to support his neck, and slowed him down, before letting him go.

'Deactivate, now!' the hat ordered, and Poppy looked at her reserves, noting it was getting to around ten percent. Instantly she deactivated everything, and time caught up with her, as the man dropped to the ground, unconscious and probably with many broken bones, due to that initial impact, and her stopping him. No matter how gentle she had been, she'd felt a few bones breaking as she handled him. Enhanced strength, speed and durability, was a scary power to wield.

As she caught her breath, she fell to her knees. She was bone-tired and her head and eyes ached from what she'd just done, but her day wasn't done.

III-III

'Harry, I think Poppy could do with a feed.' the hat said to Harry, who'd just watched as Quirrell was sent flying, only to stop for no reason and hit the floor.

'What happened? Is she okay?' he asked, quickly, as he connected a feed to the hat, as he'd once done, and started sending the hat power, so that he could redirect it to Poppy. They'd never tested this, but Harry knew the only way to Poppy, at this point, was through the hat.

'Your plan worked, but she's down to ten percent of her reserves.' the hat said, as he took the feed and connected it directly to Poppy's image, on his side. 'She had to stop him from hitting the wall. He'd be dead, and she'd likely be, too. Magical medical oaths are no joke.' He knew that mercy killings were allowed to them, in cases where there was no saving the patient, and to stop suffering, but then magic would judge if you had tried everything.

III-III

'There's a feed coming your way.' the hat told her. 'Just connect it to your reserve. Harry's sending his support.'

Poppy, feeling quite drained, focussed on the hat's image and pulled a tether from it to her reserves, too tired to argue, and knowing she had two patients to take care of. Her magical reserves looked almost exactly like Harry's, but hers looked more defined, and the patterns were smaller, likely due to her magical reserves being larger, but being represented in the same size container. She'd be going back to Minerva, just as soon as she stabilized the idiot she'd just handed his ass to.

'You're like a cleric warrior.' the hat said, a smile in his voice. 'How does it feel to be the hero?'

'Like a younger person should be the hero.' the woman admitted, as she felt her power slowly coming back. 'How's Harry? How much of his power have I taken?'

'He said he's willing to send you 75% of his reserves.' the hat said. 'He knows you need to be a healer, just now, so he's willing to help. I think that should get you to about 40%, considering how quickly he's draining on his side.'

'Don't let him send me a single drop more than that, okay?' she requested.

'I'll tell you when to disconnect.' the hat promised.

She sighed. She was feeling better, already. That boy had not just helped stop the Dark Lord, again, if vicariously, but he'd likely saved her own life, too.

'He's likely going to 'read you the riot act'.' the hat said. 'You keep telling him to be careful, and then you get yourself attacked, because you weren't careful yourself. You'll likely have that thrown in your face, too.'

'I deserve it.' she said, as she finished setting Quirrell's bones. She'd already used medical charms to paralyze him, stop him from accessing his magic, and she'd put him in a magical coma, for good measure.

Then, she went to check Minerva. Fortunately, she was just knocked out, with a few cuts, a likely concussion and a few other bruises. The room with the fire, had somehow changed, as she got to it. Before, Quirrell had used a spell to protect them both from the flames, but it was like the room had grown, to make space for her to safely pass.

As luck would have it, the Headmaster arrived, just as she exited the trap-door, by the three-headed dog, with both Minerva and Quirrell following, via magical floating stretchers. The dog had not even tried to attack Minerva or Poppy. Apparently, he knew their scent. Hagrid must have introduced him to the scents, at some point.

"Poppy?" he asked. He looked like he'd been running, sweat on his forehead.

"Congratulations, Headmaster." the woman said. "Your trap was sprung, and we caught Quirrell and the dark lord."

"Dark Lord?" Dumbledore asked.

"In Quirrell." the woman said, as she continued to walk. "I hope you have a plan for capturing him, this time. Oh, and just so you know, Quirrell is dying. He's got two days to live, by my calculation. Whatever Voldemort is, now, will likely leave, then. It seems my magic is keeping them both unaware."

"But… how?" the man asked.

"Family magic." the woman said, before she started moving past him.

Dumbledore was not an idiot. He knew Poppy and Harry met weekly. He'd tried to be there, once, but he'd been forced out, as the wards of Poppy's domain kicked him out. He suspected that whatever Poppy had done, was likely not commonplace magic. More than likely, she'd learned some of Harry's own power. It was an interesting thought, thinking that apparently the 'power the dark lord knows not', could be given to others.

"The stone?" Dumbledore asked.

"I never saw it." Poppy said. "The mirror broke."

Dumbledore sighed. He still had the stone. He'd promised to return it to Nicholas, and he hadn't planned on doing it, with it always being somewhat of a threat, but now… he couldn't afford to make more enemies.

"Well, for what it's worth, Poppy, I thank you for your assistance." Dumbledore said. "I'll take custody of Quirrell and ensure that something is done with him." he promised.

"What's the plan?" Poppy asked. "With Voldemort?"

Dumbledore had not expected to find this situation. He knew that Quirrell was the thief, had been watching, and Severus had told him of his suspicions, but acting rashly would have been overplaying his hand. "I… honestly don't know." he admitted.

"Leave him with me, then." Poppy said. "I may have a way of keeping the man alive. I've placed him in a coma, bound his magic and paralyzed him. He won't escape."

"I don't know how your capabilities have changed, Poppy, but I suspect that he's been drinking Unicorn blood." Dumbledore said. "I don't think there is anything you can do to sustain him. The curse gained from consuming Unicorn blood has never been bested."

"Leave him, with me." the woman reiterated. "You don't know my capabilities. I may be able to either keep him alive, or if all else fails, to contain the dark lord."

Dumbledore was quiet at that. Frankly, he was planning on getting the DMLE involved. If they could detect the Dark Lord in Quirrell, they might finally be able to prove that the man was not completely gone.

'I think Harry may be able to help.' the hat said.

'I was hoping.' the woman admitted. 'What's his plan?'

'It seems that when we started keeping things from Harry, he started keeping something from us.' the hat said. 'He's not told me everything, and he's guarding his thoughts carefully, but apparently he knows something about his scar, that we never told him.'

'He knows?' Poppy asked, her eyes widening.

'I don't know.' the hat admitted. 'I suspect so, though. He's telling me that he intended to remove whatever connection he had to Quirrell, by isolating the connection and forcing it into a different container. I don't know how he intends to do that, though.'

'Not without our help!' the woman demanded.

'I don't think we have the right to demand that, Poppy.' the hat said. 'We didn't tell him what we suspected, when we could have. Nothing stopped you, at least.'

'I only had a suspicion!' she objected.

'You could still have shared it.' the hat said.

'You have confirmation, though, right?' the woman asked.

'I can't tell you.' the hat said.

Poppy, who'd been walking next to the headmaster, as they made their way back to the infirmary, stopped, as she realised what that meant. The headmaster stopped and frowned at her. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"You know what Harry's scar is, don't you?" she asked, her eyes narrowing, and glaring at the man.

Dumbledore's face paled. "You know?" he asked.

The woman's face gained some colour, as she glared at the headmaster. "You knew, all this time, and you didn't mention it, even to me? I'm his healer! I'm literally the only person that should know!"

"Poppy, if it is what I suspect, we literally can't remove it." the headmaster said, sadly. "The only one that could, is him." he said, nodding his head at Quirrell. "One of the reasons that I didn't act on the information, is that I was hoping he'd make a mistake, and free Harry from that connection. The only other option there is, is casting the killing curse at the scar, and hope that I don't kill the boy, and I refuse to try. Even if there was only a very small chance of failing, I couldn't do it. I know you think I'm some sort of uncaring manipulator, but I do care for the boy. I made a promise to his parents, when I sent him to live with his relatives, that I would do everything in my power to keep him alive."

Poppy didn't look like she was feeling better. "Surviving, and living are two very different things. Your actions are the reason he…" she started, but couldn't finish. She wouldn't betray Harry's trust, by discussing her suspicions on why his mind worked the way it did. Why he struggled with things no child should have to. "And you are officially forbidden from pointing your wand at Harry, ever again. Knowing what you just told me, I can't trust you with him, anymore." she added, as she continued to move.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked, as he followed.

"I'm working on it." she said, simply.

III-III

"So… Quirrell was caught, and the Headmaster and Madam Pomphrey are now keeping him contained?" Neville asked, after Harry shared what he could.

"Well, Madam Pomphrey knows medical magic, that she used to make it so he can't even try to escape." Harry corrected. "Technically, she's the hero, today. Not him."

"Using something you somehow gave her." Hermione said, still a little upset. When Harry lifted an eyebrow at her, she quickly lifted her hands in surrender. "I'm not pushing, promise. I'm just…"

"Unable to help yourself." Neville said, with a smirk. Both he and Harry knew that she couldn't stop her curiosity. "We can speculate all we want, but let's try and be good friends, and keep from pressuring Harry, okay? We can talk about what we learned, and discuss our suspicions, and what we think we missed, when we're alone. There's nothing stopping us from doing that, as long as we do it in private and don't get confirmation."

"In the meanwhile, I suggest you never make eye-contact with Snape or Dumbledore." Harry said, as he started relaxing. This whole situation had stressed him out quite a bit. "It's one way to stop from being read."

That was welcome news. Not even Neville had known that. "Thanks." he said, nodding. "Avoiding Snape's eyes might even help me in his class."

"Why do you freeze up, when he looks at you?" Harry asked.

Neville sighed. "My parents… they were tortured by Death Eaters. They are alive, but… their minds broke. They've been in Saint Mungo's for as long as I can remember. Everyone knows that Snape used to be a Death Eater. When he looks at me, I can't help but think of that, and wonder. Maybe he was one of those that got away, you know? Maybe he was even there?"

"That's fair." Harry said, nodding. "If it makes you feel better, once you've got my magic, chances are you could train to stand against even fully trained adults, like him, with very little chance of being beaten."

Neville's eyes gained a bit of steel, when he heard that. "I'll be sure to put all my effort into being worthy of the offer, then." he swore.

"For now, though, I'm going to bed." Harry said, as he stood up. "This whole thing tired me out." He'd not mentioned sending his power to the woman, but he couldn't, either. That would be something that they might never learn. It all depended on what they did with the knowledge, when the time came.

He was laying in bed, a few minutes later, when there was a chuckle, in his head. 'Poppy has something for you.' the hat's voice said.

'Oh?' Harry asked, after he connected to the hat, properly. There was a feeling of something trying to enter his mind, and Harry accepted it. A new image appeared. It looked like one of Madam Pomphrey's files. It had a name, too. 'Dear Harry'

'So, you're a mailman, now?' Harry asked, as he tapped the image.

'Well, it's not like I'd refuse, and it doesn't really cost me anything.' the hat said.

Harry started reading the letter.

-Dear Harry

First off, thank you for your help today. I cannot express how powerless I felt, when that man manhandled me, and how much your support means. Of course, the actual happenings of tonight will stay with me, and I assure you, the headmaster will not be able to get anything from Quirrell, due to the coma I'm keeping him in.

Secondly, I am not going to complain about the fact that you understated the capabilities of your enhancement magic. I am only grateful to those, and in case you hadn't realised, you saved my life, today. For that, I am indebted to you. That means more than just gratitude in the magical world. I'll discuss that with you in person, though.

Thirdly, I will be speaking to your professors tomorrow at breakfast, and you'll be excused from classes for the next two days, while we work together to solve the Quirrell/Voldemort issue. During this time, I will likely be unable to help myself, when I ask about what you had planned for fixing this connection you have with the man, and I'll tell you what I suspect, as I should have, a while ago, already. You'll just have to excuse Gryff's silence, as I suspect he physically can't tell you this.

I know you are an intelligent and capable young man, and I should not have underestimated you. For that, I apologise. I didn't tell you, because I was worried. You are still so young. You shouldn't be in this position, but I will trust you, as you've more than proven that you are capable of handling anything that comes your way.

Tomorrow, we need a proper estimation of the situation, and at the very least a long-term solution to containing the dark lord, or a way to keep Quirrell alive, in some other way. Just so you know, the headmaster told me he suspects that Quirrell is the one that was attacking the Unicorns. That means that we have very little time. I estimate two days, currently.

Now, remember to get some sleep. I'll need you at your best, while we work on creating something that will solve this issue, to ensure it doesn't come back later.

See you tomorrow,

Poppy Pomphrey

PS: If the headmaster ever takes his wand out around you, and you feel he might be a threat, you have my full permission to do whatever you can to get out of there, even if it means you have to break every bone in his body. I'll just heal him later, anyway.

She'd ended the last sentence with a flourish, and Harry chuckled at that, knowing that she was joking, but only sort of. The woman had a sense of humour that he appreciated sometimes. He didn't even know if he had the power, let alone the skill, to even attempt to attack the headmaster. Running away, however… that was likely more doable.

III-III

Harry went to breakfast the next day, and McGonagall had approached him, shortly before classes were to start. She was seemingly fine. Poppy did good work.

"Mister Potter." she said. "I have been asked to allow you to assist Madam Pomphrey with something she is working on, for the next few days. As I understand it, you have been helping her with some things, and she finds your assistance to be quite necessary for this."

"Okay." Harry said, shrugging, and acting like he'd not expected that.

"Don't give me that act, young man." she said, her eyes narrowing on him. Poppy had been telling her that Harry had been doing some fantastic things with claimed magic, before the attack the previous evening. She suspected that Harry had allowed her to use some of his claimed magic, too, which would explain how she was currently alive, and how the woman had subdued the man that had ambushed them. "I've seen better innocent faces on the Weasley twins."

Harry decided to smile at her for that. It wasn't much, but the professor was trying to be a little more friendly, by the tone of her voice. "I'd never dream of lying to you, professor." he said, his smile turning into a smirk.

"Go." she said. "I'll be by, after first period, to check up on you two, and I may have a few questions for you at that time." Then, she turned, and left the hall.

"What's going on?" Neville asked.

"Would that I could tell you, Nev, but I'm afraid you don't have clearance." Harry said, smiling at him. "Top secret, you understand."

Neville decided that if Harry could joke, it was probably not too serious. At least he'd be with a teacher. "Be careful. I'll see you at lunch?" he asked.

"I don't know." Harry admitted. "I may be a little busy, at the time."

Neville nodded, and walked away with Hermione, who was once again, frowning at Harry. She knew to keep her mouth shut in the Great Hall, but that didn't mean she didn't want to know.

Harry made his way to the hospital wing, after that, and knocked. It made sense that it was closed, now, where it was usually open. When Poppy opened the door, Harry nodded at her and looked around. He saw a closed-off bed, which he assumed was where Quirrell was being kept.

"I've placed a ward and did everything I could to keep him restrained." Poppy said, following his eyes. "The second face, as you know, is the dark lord's. From my medicals scans, it seems to be a form of possession. The face has been manifesting over the last few months, but chances are, it had already started manifesting at the start of the school year, which was why he's been wearing the turban."

"Possession, meaning it's a spirit, of some sort." Harry said, nodding, and accepting it that they were getting straight to business. "That conclusion lines up well with my own findings." he said.

"Care to elaborate?" she asked.

"You and the hat." Harry said. "You were both talking around something. I knew the scar and the man had a correlation. Now, I'm guessing it's less the man, and more the spirit. Either way, I've been sneaking into the restricted section, recently, under the cloak, for more information on tracking magic. One of the things I found there, was a spell that could point out connections temporarily for the caster, that was sometimes used for a form of tracking. Would you care to wager what I saw, when I connected the spell to my interface?"

"Some sort of tether, or connection?" the woman asked.

"A tether is a good word." Harry said, nodding. "Fortunately, it doesn't seem like it connects to my mind, as much as just my forehead. The scar's placement is just the visual representation of the place where the tether formed."

"That is useful information." the woman said. "And what was your plan?" she asked.

"I was going to do what I did with some other magic I put on the interface." Harry said. "Using the model of my body, on the interface, I can tether a spell to my whole body, rather than just connected to my wand. It was a proof of concept for an application for a form of levitation that a person can cast in a new way, to levitate themselves." he said, as he activated said spell, and cast it, with his wand in his hand, but undirected, since the targeting system was controlling that function.

Harry slowly rose into the air, before he just hung there. Poppy's eyes widened as she saw him floating there. It seemed that even his hair was affected, because it stood up even more starkly.

"It looks like you're experiencing zero gravity." she noted.

"I didn't know you knew about that?" Harry asked.

"I was watching the tele, when Armstrong made his original one small step, one giant leap statement." Poppy said. "I thought it was interesting and looked up a few things." She'd had a few thoughts about that, too. How was there a camera outside the ship, when Armstrong stepped off, if he was the first one off the ship? That had given her some thoughts, but she just assumed something like a mechanical arm had been extended, or something.

Harry nodded, as he allowed himself to settle to the ground again. "Anyway, the idea was to move the connection, the way I do with my magic and the model, and then place the connection on something physical, which is not my body, but which is connected to me, at the time. Make two connections, be seen as one thing, move the connection point from the scar, and disconnect myself from the new container."

Poppy considered that. "Wait, why would you need to be connected?" she asked, frowning. "Can't you just move the connection, normally?"

"Changing the connection point is something I've already done." Harry said. "I moved the magic in the scar, to my off-hand, when I discovered it can be moved, but not detached. It stayed there only for a few seconds, though. Something about the magic makes it return to the scar. The idea is to move the scar's connection to something I can let go of, but first, it needs to be a part of me. My current theory is that the thing will need to be magical. My wand would work, but then I'd not be able to touch my wand, anymore. A ward-stone, or something powered by runes, perhaps."

Poppy had no idea how he'd figured that much out, without even knowing what the scar likely was, but she'd seen him intuit things enough, to realise that it wasn't beyond his capabilities to do so. It was also entirely possible that he still didn't understand, but that magic was just able to take from his intent, due to the amount of work he'd done to train it to understand his needs. The interface was truly an inspired idea. If he'd had the idea to do everything it could, initially, she'd be wondering where the idea had come from, but fortunately, it seemed he was just developing it as he went.

"I think you may be right." she said. "Using your own magic to power whatever you connect to, would make that connection simpler, too, and likely be necessary to trick the connection into accepting its new container."

"Trick?" Harry asked. "It's alive, then? So, an imprint, or, perhaps a bond, like a familiar?"

The woman shook her head. "I'm afraid it's nothing quite so benign, if my theory is correct." she said. She seemed to need a moment, before she sighed. "What I'm about to tell you, I only tell you because I know you'd never abuse the knowledge, or share it, okay?" she asked.

Harry nodded. He was a little worried. This seemed like dangerous stuff.

"Everyone knows that one of the dark lord's ambitions was to gain immortality." she started. "That's why his followers were called Death Eaters, not Death Bringers. Voldemort is also a combination of French words that likely translates to flight from death. Vol, 'Flight' or 'theft', de, 'from' or 'of', and the last part, mort, always means 'death'."

"Noted." Harry said, wanting her to continue.

She sighed again. "There is an ancient form of immortality, usually used by necromancers. Using this method, the necromancer either splits his own soul, and places one part into an object usually called a horcrux, which keeps the rest of their spirit bound to the mortal plain, or he keeps all of his soul in a container called a phylactery, which does the same, but comes at the cost of needing to lose your life and body in making it. In that case, you'd need to have a new body ready, and many different forms of homunculus could be used for that purpose, but they'd need to trust someone else to get that to work, and the dark seldom trust."

"So, you think he made a horcrux?" Harry asked. He already knew that something was in Quirrell, so it only made sense that it wasn't all of his soul that was in his head.

"I do." she said, nodding. "I also think that something happened, the day you received your scar, and a sliver of the dark lord's soul was tethered to you. The reason I think this, is because of the pain you experience. The sensation is likely caused due to resonance. The soul is not meant to be split. It wants to be one. So, when you focus on the man that has part of the soul, your scar aches, because it feels its counterpart, or one of them, and tries to connect, or return to it. Being tethered to you, however…"

"It means that it just tortures me, because I'm not letting go." Harry said. "Or, maybe, it's just allowing itself to be pulled, and doesn't consciously hurt me."

"I think the latter." she said, nodding.

'I think you should both consider what to do next, first.' the Hat offered. Both of them accepted the connection, instantly, because nobody would reject the experience of a thousand-year-old intelligence. 'I think Harry's plan to remove the connection is likely to work, but the problem with that, is that you may want to find the other half, at some point, too. While it's out there, Voldemort's soul cannot leave the mortal plain. His immortality will remain. The best you can do until then, is try and contain him, and he'll continue to be a threat.'

Harry nodded at the logic. "So, I keep it, for now, then." he said. "But maybe use what we have and do something similar to the partial soul that's in Quirrell."

"Do you think you can do that?" Poppy asked, frowning. "Don't you need to have one of your models, for him, first?"

"Then we make a model." Harry said, nodding.

"Didn't that take you a long time, though?" Poppy asked.

"It did." Harry agreed. Then he smirked. "Fortunately, with the initial model made, I should be able to make a copy and adapt a new one, rather quickly. My magic already knows how to do that, after all. I will need a bit of help figuring out how to connect it to the man, though, and that will have to be your job, while I make the model."

'Harry will likely also need to move the spirit himself, when the time comes.' the hat said.

"Why?" Poppy asked.

'Quirrell's body was changed, due to the presence of the spirit.' the hat said. 'When it's removed, there is a high likelihood of the man's body rejecting the change, and him dying, directly after. You may want to protect Harry from this, but he's also the only one that can attempt it, without the attempt automatically killing him, because he hasn't taken the oath that you are under.'

Poppy frowned at that. It was true. If she suspected that they could kill the man, doing this, then she could be found in breach of her oath. "Damn." she swore.

Neither Harry, nor the hat corrected her, feeling the same.

"Well, on the bright side, since he's dying already, I won't feel too bad, if I put him out of his misery." Harry said.

"Don't be so callous." Poppy reprimanded. "I don't want this. I don't want that weighing on you. What about a way to keep him alive, rather? We can find the other horcrux, then, and destroy it, after moving your one out of you. Then we do the same to that and let Quirrell live out the rest of his life as the last host of the dark lord, in a coma."

'You cannot guarantee that you'll find a way.' the hat said. 'There isn't enough time, and you don't have any idea of how to even attempt it.'

"But there has to be a way!" she objected.

"I'm sure I could come up with something, if we had a bit more time, but I think Gryff is right." Harry said. "Better most of a plan that we can start implementing immediately, than no plan at all and grasping at straws, while our time runs out."

'Well said.' the hat agreed.

"I'll start on the model, so long." Harry said, as he went to the curtained off area. "I'm estimating a few hours, to a day, tops, because I don't know what differences I'll be running into." he added, as he slipped behind the curtains.

'Can we ask this of him?' Poppy asked. 'He's just a boy. You know what he's been through, more than me, even. This will be just another thing that he has to carry.'

'You underestimate the boy's character.' the hat said. 'He may have locked up some of his emotions for a long time, but he's aware of that, now, and he's working on fixing it, already. He doesn't just have a strong mind. He's also got a strong, valorous heart, something Godric would have been proud of. We just need to ensure that he knows he's not responsible, should the man die. More than likely, Quirrell allowed himself to be possessed. Drinking unicorn blood also means that he's only half-alive as it is.'

'Does that automatically mean that Harry will be able to see a dead body, know he had a hand in it, and not carry any of the guilt?' she asked.

'Get him out, then, before the man dies.' the hat suggested. 'Be the mother you already want to be and shield him from the truth.'

Poppy's eyebrows rose at that. She'd not even admitted it to herself. Harry was a sweet boy, and she had connected with him in a way she'd never connected to anyone. She wanted to protect him, and share in his successes, and be there for his failures, to console him, or see how he shrugs it off and tries something else. She… She loved him, she realised.

'You do.' the hat said. 'Of course, I will not, and have not mentioned anything to him. That is yours to reveal, when the time comes.'

The woman looked down. 'Would he even want me?' she asked.

'Sorry, I can't tell you of my speculations.' the hat said. It knew the boy wouldn't mind, but he'd not necessarily understand, either. It didn't think he was ready to face such a strong emotion as love, yet. He needed it, like everyone, but because he's never known it, he wouldn't know how to act on it. It may just push him away, but only because of fear, really. Accepting love, was likely going to be one of the final steps he takes, on the road to recovery.

Poppy had similar thoughts going through her head, but the hat never commented. Finally, she pulled herself together. She had a part to fulfil, in stopping the dark lord, too. 'I'll be in my office. Should anything happen, let me know immediately. I'll keep our connection open, for that. I may also need to ask you a few questions, and might ask you to ask Harry some things, too, when he has a moment, when I need input.'

'Can do, Poppy.' the hat said.