Chapter 33

Harry's consciousness returned sluggishly, the sterile scent of the hospital wing filling his nostrils. Three concerned faces loomed over him - Madam Pomfrey's professional worry, McGonagall's pinched expression, and Dumbledore's twinkling eyes behind half-moon spectacles.

"Could you... give me some space?" Harry mumbled "Feel like I'm in a fishbowl here."

Once the adults backed away, Harry adjusted himself carefully on the bed.

"How long was I out?" he asked, noting the pile of sweets on his bedside table.

"Just over twenty-four hours, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied. "Your friends have been quite concerned."

Harry nodded, internally relieved. Just one day meant he did not miss half of school year for no reason. He launched into his carefully constructed cover story.

"I was running by the lake just like everyday" he began, watching their reactions. "Professor Quirrell came out of nowhere, hit me with something. When I woke up, we were in this weird room with a massive mirror."

He described Quirrell's erratic behavior, the shocking reveal of Voldemort's face, keeping his tone appropriately terrified for a 14 year old who had to witness Voldemort. "He kept staring at the mirror, muttering about trying his best to Voldemort."

Harry winced as he explained the events. "I thought I could stop him as voldemort did not notice I woke up so I ran up behind him and just... punched where Voldemort's face was and Quirrell crumbled. Like he turned to ash." He folded his hands as if he did not know why any of it happened, playing up the shock. "I don't really remember much after that."

The adults exchanged concerned looks. Pomphrey immediately began muttering to herself about Gryffindor bravery while McGonagall clutched her chest looking at Harry in shock and indignation like punching the dark lord in the face was a mad thing to do. Dumbledore's eyes had lost their twinkle, replaced by calculation.

"May I leave?" Harry asked Pomphrey, desperate to end this performance before anyone asked too many questions.

After a final scan, she nodded reluctantly. Dumbledore stepped forward, requesting privacy. As the women left, Harry considered his options. He knew the stone's true power - not just extending life, but transforming any metal to gold. In Dumbledore's hands, it would just be destroyed or hidden for whatever reason. In Harry's possession... well, the possibilities were endless. 

Harry asked Dumbledore to get the conversation over with before it gets too long "Why did Quirell turn to ash as soon as I touched him or was it Voldemort who was hurt by my touch"

Dumbledore explained the whole Mothers protection thing as Harry asked the appropriate questions. Once that conversation was over Harry expected Dumbledore to leave but he was surprised to find him still there

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore began gravely, "Did you see what happened to the Philosopher's Stone?"

Harry met those blue eyes, remembering that part of the conversation did not finish yet. Harry thought of the Flamels. Yes, they'd die without it but he did not know for sure because why would they give Dumbledore the stone for no reason. It would be far more useful helping him prepare for Voldemort's return than sitting in a vault or being destroyed by Dumbledore if given to him so Harry had to ask and confirm something.

"No sir," he replied steadily. "Everything happened so fast. Will... will the Flamels be okay?"

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged, suddenly looking every one of his considerable years. "Nicolas and Perenelle have chosen to arrange their affairs and move on to the next great adventure. They entrusted me with the stone's protection, and I..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "I failed them." 

Harry felt a twinge of guilt but stayed resolved. The stone was safer with him than anyone else. His distrust did not come from Dumbledore fanfics but the fact that even a good Dumbledore wants a dead Harry. Dumbledore's "greater good" will get him killed in the future.

When the headmaster finally left, shoulders slumped in defeat, Harry waited until his footsteps faded. Then, he slipped a finger inside himself and extracted the stone. The smooth red crystal disappeared into his robes just as the hospital wing doors burst open, admitting his worried friends.

"Time for round two of storytelling," he thought, preparing his best "not bothered one bit, Tis but a flesh wound" expression. At least he did not have to explain to anyone why he'd fucked a mirror.

His friends burst into the infirmary, Lavender immediately throwing herself at him with a sob. Her generous chest pressed against him as she hugged him tight.

"Can't... breathe..." Harry wheezed, though he wasn't entirely complaining about the position.

"Oh! Sorry!" Lavender pulled back slightly, her eyes watery. Harry subtly adjusted his robes, ensuring the stone remained hidden.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded, perching on the edge of his bed. "Professor McGonagall only said you were found unconscious!"

Harry repeated his fabricated lake story, watching their reactions carefully. Ron's eyes went wide at the mention of You-Know-Who, while Neville looked like he might faint. Parvati clutched Lavender's arm, both girls gasping at appropriate moments.

"So you just... punched him?" Ron asked incredulously. "And he died?"

"My mother's protection," Harry shrugged. "Something about love magic. Dumbledore tried explaining it but honestly, I was more focused on not throwing up."

"Is breakfast still happening?" Harry asked, desperate to change the subject. "I'm starving."

"Of course you're thinking about food," Hermione rolled her eyes, but her hand squeezed his affectionately.

Neville helped him stand, and Harry had to steady himself as his body adjusted to not having its unusual passenger anymore. The stone's weight in his pocket felt reassuring.

"You sure you're okay?" Lavender pressed, still holding his arm. "You look a bit... wobbly."

"Just hungry," Harry assured her, noting the genuine concern in her eyes. He felt a twinge of guilt for lying, but it was safer if they didn't know everything. Not yet, anyway.

"Well, you did miss breakfast, lunch and dinner yesterday. let us not add breakfast this morning to the list," Neville pointed out as they headed toward the Great Hall. "Though Lavender and Hermione barely ate anything either. were too worried about you."

"and I bet Ron and you ate less than ususal eh" Harry joked as he pulled Lavender and Hermione closer, whispering, "You two should not have done that."

They both hug him back as they say "The food tasted bland without him" the answer made his heart skip. He understood they cared about him more than he thought. Well maybe being the dildo of the group made him doubt their relationship

As they walked, Hermione fell into step beside him, her analytical mind clearly still working. "But how did Quirrell know to grab you specifically by the lake?"

"Good questions," Harry mused, genuinely puzzled. Someone had clearly been watching his habits. "Very good questions indeed."

The Great Hall's noise washed over them as they entered, but Harry barely noticed. His mind was already racing ahead, plotting his next moves. He had a stone to hide, Horcruxes to hunt, and a dark lord to permanently put down because if Voldemort was not going to follow canon Harry would not either.

But first, breakfast. 

As they settled at the Gryffindor table, Harry found himself sandwiched between Lavender and Hermione. He loaded his plate with eggs and sausages.

"You really had to kill a professor," Lavender whispered, her hand trembling as she held his hand. "I mean... that's..."

"It wasn't like that," Harry murmured deciding he had to distract them from thoughts about voldemort, sliding his hand beneath the table. He found her thigh, fingers dancing along the smooth skin under her skirt. "He was already dead inside, hosting Voldemort."

Hermione flinched at the name, then gasped softly as Harry's other hand found her thigh too. "H-Harry! We're in the Great Hall!"

"And you're both wound tighter than Snape's knickers," he whispered, his fingers working higher. "Just relax and Let me take care of you, I don't want you two to worry about Voldemort"

Lavender bit her lip, thighs spreading slightly. "But... ahh... you could have been hurt..."

"But I didn't get hurt," Harry assured her, expertly finding her sensitive spots through her dampening panties. Beside him, Hermione was trying to maintain her composure as his fingers teased her through silk.

"This... nnh... isn't right. You are the one who was....ah...hurt...we should be the on...ones to take.....mnnn care of you," Hermione protested weakly, even as she shifted to give him better access.

"Well you two did worry yourselves sick over me," Harry replied, working his fingers in smooth circles. He could feel both girls trembling, their breathing becoming uneven.

Lavender dropped her fork with a clatter, quickly disguising it as a cough. Her hips moved subtly against his hand as he slipped beneath her knickers. Hermione was gripping her goblet so hard her knuckles were white.

"That's it," Harry encouraged softly, Digging deeper and trying his best to touch their spots "Let it all out"

Hermione came first, biting her lip hard as she shuddered. Her thighs clamped around his hand as she rode out her orgasm while looking down at his hand spreading her soaked pussy. Lavender followed moments later, burying her face in Harry's shoulder to muffle her whimper.

Harry withdrew his hands, making a show of licking his fingers clean before returning to his breakfast. Both girls were flushed and panting, but no one else at the crowded table had noticed anything amiss.

"You... you absolute..." Hermione couldn't even finish her sentence, still catching her breath.

"Prat?" Harry suggested cheerfully. "Cad? Scoundrel?"

"All of the above," Lavender mumbled, but she was smiling. Some of the tension had finally left her shoulders.

"Better than watching you two stress yourselves into knots," Harry pointed out, finishing his eggs. "Now, shall we head to class? I believe we have Herbology first which is weird but the author did not make a schedule of how these classes go so there we have it"

As they left the Great Hall, Ron, Neville and Parvati walked ahead discussing the upcoming Herbology lesson, while Harry hung back with Lavender and Hermione. Both girls were still flushed, walking a bit unsteadily.

"You can't just... DO that," Hermione finally burst out, her voice low but intense. "Being worried about you doesn't mean we need... compensation!"

"She's right," Lavender added, as her hand stayed firmly linked with his. "We care about you, Harry. Not because of the... things you do for us."

Harry stopped walking, causing both girls to halt. The stone felt heavy in his pocket as he sighed. "Look, I know you care. But I don't want anyone worrying themselves sick over me. I can handle myself."

"Except exams," he added with a weak grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione stepped forward, taking his face in her hands. Her brown eyes were fierce. "We know you can handle yourself. That's not the point. I want to help, even if it's just researching or planning or..."

"And I'm not just here for fun times," Lavender interrupted, pressing against his back. Her arms wrapped around his waist. "I know I'm not the strongest witch or the smartest, but I'll learn. I'll train. I want to help you in whatever you want to do."

Harry felt his eyes stinging, overwhelmed by their devotion. Part of him wanted to push them away, protect them from a path he did not know if will go as planned. But their determination was not something he could stop and it was better if they helped within limits

"I...uhhh fuck" he swallowed hard. "I might not deserve this."

"Tough," Lavender mumbled into his shoulder. "You're stuck with us."

"But," Harry finally said, gathering himself, "you have to promise me something. If I tell you to stay back from something, you do it. No arguments. There are things that I am meant to face alone. If you argue then I will not let you help" he thought of the Horcruxes, of Voldemort, both easy to deal with his knowledge but still carrying a risk of the battles ahead.

Both girls were quiet for a moment before nodding slowly.

"As long as you promise to let us help where we can," Hermione bargained. "No lone hero acts."

Harry kissed them both softly, sealing the deal. "Deal. Now come on, we're late for Herbology. And Sprout's already mad at me for that thing with the Venomous Tentacula last week."

As they hurried to catch up with the others, Harry's mind raced. He had allies now, true ones. The question was, how much could he tell them? How much should he keep hidden?