Johnny blinked.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Johnny," said Dumbledore.

Johnny stared at him. Then he remembered what Quirrell said: "You never told me."

"I did not," Dumbledore said calmly, sitting on a chair. "I was content in letting you think that you was a Muggle-Born, knowing the pressure that would befall on you if you knew you was related to such a Dark Wizard."

"Does everyone know?" Johnny asked, feeling the dread in his stomach.

"Yes," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Word spread fast, many students wrote to their parents expressing their concerns. Many students told them not to fear you, as they knew your mother and father well."

"What happened to them, Sir?"

"Your father, Jakob, is in Azkaban, wrongfully accused of murder," Dumbledore said, a look of pain and distraught on his face. "Your mother, Evelyn, is currently in Austria, with your Grandfather."

"Gellert?" Johnny said quietly. "I read that he was locked up in a castle."

"That is correct," Dumbledore said. "I happen to be visiting them this summer, if you would like to join me?"

Johnny nodded eagerly.

"Then you will not be catching the train home," Dumbledore said, standing up and patting his shoulder. "McGonagall will inform Mr. Scaletta and his daughter, and if you wish to say goodbye to them and live with your mother and Grandfather, then I will not stop you."

"Sir!" Johnny called out to Dumbledore, who turned to Johnny with a small smile. "You loved him, didn't you? My Grandfather."

"When I was young, yes," Dumbledore sighed. "And he is what I desire most when I look in to that mirror, but I could never forgive him fully.

Johnny swallowed and looked around him. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows, that's how they found out about your heritage. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Harry Potter, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sir, the Stone--"

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hermione and Harry's owl?"

"We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you."

"It was you."

"I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer -"

"Not the Stone, boy, you -- the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Johnny blankly. "But your friend -- Nicolas Flamel--"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Johnny's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all -- the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Johnny laid there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"Sir?" said Johnny. "I've been thinking... sir -- even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who--"

"Call him Voldemort, Johnny. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Johnny, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Johnny, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time -- and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Johnny nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my aunt because she tried to stop him from killing Harry. But why would he want to kill him in the first place?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You and Harry will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Johnny. When you and Harry are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."

And Johnny knew it would be no good to argue.

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your aunt died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that love as powerful as your aunt's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Johnny time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Johnny said, "And the invisibility cloak -- you sent it to Harry, didn't you?"

"Ah -- your uncle happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought he might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things... your father and uncle used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when they were here."

"And there's something else..."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape--"

"Professor Snape, Johnny."

"Yes, him -- Quirrell said he hates Harry because he hated my father and uncle, but he doesn't hate me. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, James abs Jakob did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What ?"

"Yes... " said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your family's debt... I do believe he worked so hard to protect you and Harry this year because he felt that would make him and your family even. Then he could go back to hating your father's in peace..."

Johnny tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.

"And sir, there's one more thing..."

"Just the one?"

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone -- find it, but not use it -- would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes... Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them -- but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

Johnny made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Johnny walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat between Blaise and Pansy at the Slytherin table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him. Pansy gave him a side hug and Blaise patted his back.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Johnny smiled, hugging Tracey Davies on the opposite end of the table.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little, but smiled in hope as they remembered Johnny was apart of the Stone's rescue.

"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

"First -- to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second -- to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her face in her arms; Johnny strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves -- they were a hundred points up. Johnny clapped for his friend.

"Third -- to Mr. Harry Potter... " said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "... for outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points -- exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup -- if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him.

"Silence!" Dumbledore yelled and the cheering ceased at once, Slytherin's sad and defeated faces suddenly filled with hope and Gryffindor's filled with dread. "I finally award Mr. Jonathan Grindelwald, sixty points, for in the face of death, having the courage to do what was right. Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of celebrating Slytherin's, "Slytherin win the House Cup."

McGonagall was shaking Professor Snape's hand, with a horrible, forced smile.

It was the best evening of Johnny's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... he would never, ever forget tonight.

Johnny had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great surprise, both Harry and Ron passed with good marks; Hermione and Johnny, of course, had the best grades of the first years.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "all three of you -- I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry, "I'll need something to look forward to."

"Aren't you boarding the train?" Hermione asked Johnny, seeing him standing him still.

"No," Johnny said, looking back up at the castle. "I'm staying here, and then I'm going to Austria to see Mum and my Grandfather."

They all smiled sadly and hugged.

"I'll write though," Johnny smiled.

Hermione gave him one final tight hug and Johnny smiled kissing her on the head.