Chapter Text
Firefly
by Athena
Prologue
He was in a body, not Quirrell's, and he was grounded in it. The pain in his head and the sluggishness of this body told him he was alive again. Something gold was glinting just above him - a firefly. He tried to swat it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It was a pair of glasses. How odd. His vision was slightly blurry.
The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him. If he could raise his hands to fetch his wand, that face wouldn't be smiling.
"Good afternoon, Harry," said Albus.
He was in Harry's body. Making snide remarks about Albus's brother and goats wouldn't be appropriate. Amusing but not at all proper. He must play the part for now. "Sir, the Stone? It isn't still in my hand. I would guess it isn't on my bedside." That sounded like eleven-year-old boy. He received the highest marks of anyone attending Hogwarts. He'd be damned if he had to repeat all but his first year as a Gyffindor.
"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Albus. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."
"Then who does?" What use did an eleven year old have for the Stone? Taking the Elixir of Life would probably make him eleven forever - what a horrid thought. He just wanted the Stone for safekeeping.
"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."
Harry (He never liked the name Tom.) looked around the room and realised he was in the hospital wing. The old saying went "Any Tom, Dick or Harry." At least, he wasn't a Dick. He could learn to response to the name Harry. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half a sweet-shop.
"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Albus, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory 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. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."
"Albus, the Stone?" Harry said a bit too loudly and he shouldn't have called the headmaster by his first name.
"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 well on your own, I must say."
"Where is Quirrell?" Harry wondered if the real Harry was in Quirrell's body or a spirit in the wind like he had been. The boy could still fulfil the prophecy and sharing a body with Quirrell would give the boy reason for revenge. Harry sat up and made a fist. This was his body. He wasn't leaving it, but he needed to know what became of the original occupant. Just because his name was Riddle didn't mean he liked them.
"Quirrell is in St. Mungos. He's recovering from second and third degree burns. The healers say his hair returned to the spot Voldemort's face was. Grew in overnight - pitch black - the oddest thing," explained Albus. "Voldemort is, perhaps, looking for another body to share."
You fool, you are talking to Voldemort. Harry wondered if that meant the original owner of this body was dead. "Is he going to teach next year?" asked Harry. "I mean, if he recovers from the burns."
"Harry, that isn't very likely," said Albus. "He'll be looking forward to spending time in Azkaban."
"The Stone!" Harry needed to watch his temper if he was going to play the part, but Albus was infuriating. That man couldn't stay on subject.
"The Stone has been destroyed."
An eleven-year-old boy had no use for the Philosopher's Stone. This worked out better than imaged. "Can I see Quirrell?"
"You are in no condition to go anywhere."
After Harry was back with the Dursleys, he would sneak out to see Quirrell. He needed to know if the original owner of this body was dead. He could be charming. The last time he was in Hogwarts, he was made Head Boy and left with Honours. No one traced him to the Basilisk. Dumbledore thought Hagrid was innocent, but even he couldn't figure out who the guilty party was. Albus, you are still a thorn in my side. He waved a hand to dismiss him.
Madame Pomfrey tapped Albus's shoulder. "Headmaster, Harry is getting tired. I think you should leave."
---
Poppy Pomfrey whispered to Albus. "I just received a third owl from St. Mungos. Quirrell is insisting he is Harry Potter."
"I just spoke to Harry Potter," said Albus.
"Is it possible that stone made them switch bodies?" whispered Poppy.
"Then I destroyed the Stone a bit hastily. Harry did call me Albus." Albus sat on a free bed and put a hand on his forehead. "Merlin, what have I done? Poppy, watch him. I'm going to St. Mungos."
"Did he say anything that indicated that he was Quirinus?" she continued to whisper.
"He called me by my first name and he was awful interested in the Stone and Quirrell. How could I destroy the Stone? That poor boy chained to a bed and the only way to get him back into his own body was destroyed."
A/N: The prologue and first few chapters are based upon the copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone that I bought in London back in 1999. : ) Yes, some of the dialogue is directly quoted from my copy. Why mess with greatness? The later chapters will have spoilers from Rowling's later books.
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