Harry Potter and the Beginning

Chapter One

The night was growing cooler, a crisp breeze rolling in from the west. A pale moonlight sifted in through the departing clouds. But all else was dark on Privet Drive, the silence was almost complete, except for the whispers on the wind.

Privet Drive was a very respectable neighborhood where the residents lived dull, monotonous lives. Nothing out of the ordinary ever occurred on Privet Drive, except for the appearance of a very peculiar man, nine years ago. But none of the neighbors ever witnessed what happened that night.

They never saw the tall, thin man leave a small bundle of blankets on the scrubbed doorstep of Number 4. Inside that bundle of cotton blankets was a one year old boy and his name was Harry Potter. Clutching in his small hand was a letter, addressed to the Dursley's, the owners of Number 4. The letter explained that Harry's parents had been murdered and that in order for Harry to survive he would have to be placed in his blood relative's care.

But Harry never read the letter, his relatives never told him about his past. And eight years on, Harry now occupied the small cupboard under the stairs. Harry was told by his Aunt and Uncle that his parents had died in a car crash, and that they had accepted Harry out of the goodness of their hearts.

So Harry had lived with the Dursley's for nine years, sleeping in a small cupboard and working for his Aunt Petunia in the day. Harry also attended school, but he didn't like going. It wasn't that he didn't like learning, Harry loved learning and reading, it was because of his aunt and uncle's son, Dudley Dursley, that Harry hated going to school.

Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel — Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig. Dudley was a renowned bully, and he loved to pick on Harry especially at school.

Dudley had a gang, who were all in Harry's class at school. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon were all big and stupid. But as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. Dudley and the gang spent their day terrorizing other students, they often beat up Harry, but Harry had learned that he couldn't fight back, because if Dudley returned home with a bruise or a small cut, Harry would be in serious trouble.

The Dursley's were astonishingly stupid when it came to their son. Dudley was spoiled, day and night. In their eyes, there was no finer boy. Mr. Vernon Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunning, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a rather large moustache. Mrs. Petunia Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in handy as she spent a lot of her time craning over the garden fence, spying on the neighbors.

The Dursley's lived perfectly normal lives until Harry arrived, and their greatest fear was that he would disrupt their small fabricated world they had built around themselves. So they tried to keep Harry out of the family as much as possible. They never bought him anything, preferring to give him Dudley's old clothes, and they kept him in the cupboard under the stairs, so they wouldn't have to see him often, except when he did the only thing he was good for, clean the house.

Nobody would have known that Harry lived with the Dursley's, if they hadn't been told. There were no pictures on the mantelpiece of Harry as there was of the rest of the family. Harry really didn't have any possessions of his own. He had no photographs of his parents and he didn't have any memory of them either. He couldn't remember their voices or their faces. His aunt and uncle refused to tell him anything of his parents; he didn't even know their names.

At this moment in time, Harry was now lying on the comfortable couch in the Dursley's spotless living room; he often snuck out of his cupboard to sleep here because it was more comfortable. Shadows from the trees outside the windows were thrown across the room. But Harry didn't recognize this; he was looking up at the bright stars that were now showing from beneath the departing clouds.

At the age of ten Harry was small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. His aunt and uncle had told him that this was a result of the car-crash which had claimed the lives of the Potters.

Harry was thinking of the day's events. A lot of strange things had been happening lately, Harry put it down to the fact it was Halloween. For instance, a tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him today while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.

Harry often felt like the loneliest person in the world. He knew the Dursley's hated him, punishing him for some very absurd reasons or very stupid reasons. The thing was some strange things often happened to Harry .Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash but Uncle Vernon must have disagreed because when Harry saw him next, he looked furious and completely demented. He hit Harry a few times while complaining about his unnaturalness, which thoroughly confused Harry.

Another time after that, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursley's had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

Harry felt as if he had no one in this world. That he was alone. He felt helpless to do anything. He couldn't go anywhere because he had nowhere to go. He was either at the Dursley's house or at school. Sometimes he visited the local library. He liked it there because it was so quiet. Silence ruled the library. Harry loved all kinds of books, from fiction to non-fiction. When he read he wasn't living in his miserable life, he was on some great adventure, and he liked it, being able to escape his life. He also liked to read books on Judo, which is a refinement of the ancient martial art of Jujutsu. He particularly liked Judo because skill, technique and timing, rather than the use of brute strength, are the essential ingredients for success. He often practiced the movements required for the spectacular throwing, grappling and choking techniques. But he wasn't great considering he didn't have a teacher or anyone to practice with. He had tried a choking attack out on Dennis which had knocked him out for a few minutes. Harry was lucky because Dennis didn't want anyone to know that little Potter had knocked him out cold, so he didn't tell a soul.

The librarian was an old withered man named Mr. Kravitov. He told Harry that he was from Russia but when he was eleven years old; his parents had immigrated to Britain to escape the war. He was a kind man and he often offered Harry books, saying that he was amazed at Harry's reading abilities, but Harry knew that if the Dursleys ever noticed the books, they would be forbidden immediately. Apart from the library Harry only went to Mrs. Figg's house.

Every time the Dursley's went out, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. Mrs. Figg was the owner of almost every cat in Little Whinging and Harry knew them all very well. But there was one tabby cat in particular that often followed Harry around during the summer and he was sure that it didn't belong to Mrs. Figg. It was a peculiar cat because it acted uncannily like a human. It also had strange spectacle markings around its eyes. The cat also had a knack for knowledge about human behavior, because Harry would swear on his life that the cat hated Dudley. It sometimes gave him very stern looks.

Harry tried remembering the last time he had seen the cat. It had been during the summer, Harry was leaving the library, but he had ran into Dudley and his gang, or more like Dudley had ran into him and shoved him down the stone steps of the library exit. Harry had tumbled down the steps and painfully smacked his head against the hard ground and fell unconscious. When he had awoken Mr. Kravitov was bending over him with a glass of water and asking him was he alright, Mr. Kravitov had then explained that the cat had come into the library and meowed until he had followed the cat outside to see what had it in such a state, finding Harry unconscious at the foot of the steps.

Harry let out an angry sigh as he remembered his encounter with Dudders. He was sick of being Dudley's victim, sick of being Aunt Petunia's slave and Uncle Vernon's excuse to rant. He was just plain sick of the Dursley's. He couldn't believe that Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister, but then again he never knew his mother so he didn't know what she was like.

When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family.

With that, Harry rolled over onto his side and snuggled into his warm blanket in order to attempt to fall to sleep. For some strange reason, Harry never slept well on Halloween. He always had nightmares, a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. Harry often wondered whether this had anything to do with the car-crash that had taken his parents away from him.

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Chapter Two

Harry awoke quite suddenly the next morning. He quickly checked the clock on the marble mantelpiece; it read 6.30 so the Dursley's were not yet awake. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He decided he would start the breakfast early because Aunt Petunia had said something yesterday about going shopping and he guessed they would be up at about 7.00.

He started with the bacon and soon after he had the sausages sizzling in the frying pan. He had just finished the eggs when his aunt and uncle entered the kitchen. His uncle just walked past him as if Harry wasn't there and his aunt looked surprised to see he had already finished the breakfast.

Comb your hair!" his uncle barked, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way — all over the place.

Harry placed his uncle's breakfast in front of him, and then turned around to flip the switch on the kettle. As he waited for the kettle to boil, Aunt Petunia took her plate and then took her place at the kitchen table. Dudley arrived down as Harry was pouring out the tea. He smirked at Harry making breakfast but Harry ignored him, he was too used to it by now.

`Is he going to Mrs. Figg's while you take Dudders shopping?” Uncle Vernon asked Aunt Petunia from across the table. He often spoke like this about Harry, as if he wasn't there. “No, we'll take him with us, there's no point forcing him on the poor woman, she's been spending too much time with him lately,” replied Aunt Petunia. Too true, thought Harry. Uncle Vernon looked like he was about to argue but then thought better of it. He decided to tell the family about his sister's vacation in the Isle of Man. Harry was delighted to hear this; it had been a while since he hadn't been either at the Dursley's house or at school. Mrs. Figg had become a lot more interested in Harry, he thought maybe she had completely lost her marbles because she kept saying Harry should look forward to the future and that good things were to come. Harry just nodded his head in agreement every time she started these `conversations'.

Harry was interrupted from his musings as his uncle started getting ready to leave for work. After breakfast Harry cleared away the plates and washed the kitchen. He then showered and changed into some cleaner clothes. At ten o'clock, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and a Harry were at the packed bus stop. When the bus arrived, Harry was left standing as Aunt Petunia and Dudley shared the last seat. Just before the bus left its stop, four boys climbed on. They were all very large and all wore heavy jackets. Harry recognized them immediately as the remaining members of Dudley's gang. The moment he saw them, Harry's heart sank. This is going to be a long day. They all gave him menacing looks as they pushed past him to climb the stairs. Dudley gave a nod of recognition to which they all replied instantaneously.

When they reached their destination, which was a good hour's drive away, the passengers aboard departed quickly. They had arrived at the biggest shopping mall near Little Whinging. It was the size of four football stadiums and had everything ranging from restaurants to clothes shops to cafes to hardware shops. But after an hour of following around in Aunt Petunia's wake, Harry was beginning to get bored. He wished he could have gone off on his own, maybe to a bookstore or a music store. Dudley seemed quite on edge throughout their shopping trip. He kept glancing behind him, Harry was sure it was because of the presence of his gang, Harry was very curious to know why they were here and he was on his guard also.

It wasn't until they had entered yet another clothes shop that things started to unfold. Dudley asked his mother could he go and browse the music store. This didn't terribly upset Harry but when Dudley asked could Harry come, Harry knew something was amiss. Harry didn't have any choice considering his aunt didn't even want him there and she would probably insist he go anyway .When they had left the music store, Dudley grabbed Harry's arm in a vice like grip. Harry winced. “Dennis told us what you did to him, Potter, so now we're going to show you what happens when you mess with one of the gang,” he said threateningly. Dennis, Piers, Gordon and Malcolm stepped out from behind a corner. Harry looked into their faces which were full of rage. Their eyes were narrowed in dislike and they were fingering their knuckles. Harry was full of rage, he was sick of being intimidated. “I wasn't messing Dudley,” Harry whispered so only Dudley could hear. He then elbowed Dudley in the stomach and then slammed Dudley into the ground by using his legs to sweep Dudley off his feet.

Suddenly Harry felt a fist connect with the side of his head. He was thrown off his feet and slid across the floor. He heard one of the security guards yelling so Harry quickly picked himself up off the ground and started to run towards the nearest exit. He wasn't going back. Not if he could prevent it. He didn't want to live like this anymore, in fear.

When he reached outside he was caught by a frosty breeze. He turned around on the spot looking for some way to get out of the area. He didn't have any money so he couldn't get a taxi or a bus. He was panicking now. Dudley probably had told the security guard that Harry was a violent delinquent and had almost certainly alerted Aunt Petunia of the situation. Just then Harry heard an angry roar coming from behind him. He then felt a large hand grab his shoulder tightly. This all happened so fast that Harry lost control of himself.

The security guard wasn't quick enough as Harry bolted across the road. Harry heard the screech of the brakes before he felt himself being slammed into the bonnet of a car. The security guard watched in shock as Harry was being ploughed by the car. He was sent flying into the windscreen, rolled back down and fell limp onto the ground.

A bushy-haired girl also watched in astonishment as the boy was run down by the car. When he hit the ground she began screaming, a high-petrified scream that alerted her parents to the situation. Her father ran over to the boy as the driver climbed out of the car, very white and in complete shock. “Is he alright? I didn't see him, he just came out of nowhere, by the time I hit the brakes it was too late!” he said in a shaky voice. “I don't know, I'm only a bloody dentist!” Mr. Granger shouted at the driver. “Ring an ambulance and find his parents,” said the security guard from the back of the crowd that had gathered around the scene.

Mr. Granger turned the small boy over and checked for a pulse. He found one. He let out a sigh of relief. But his relief was only short lived. The boy's right leg stuck out at an odd angle. It was obviously broken. Also his right arm had a very deep gash in it. Mr. Granger tried to stop the flow of blood pouring out of it. He pulled of his jacket and wrapped it around the boy's thin arm. He was sure the boy had broken a few ribs and was worried about his internal injuries.

Soon the ambulance could be heard not far away. Then the red and blue lights made an appearance. A few minutes later the boy was carried into the ambulance on a stretcher. The medics told Mr. Granger that the boy was in a serious condition as his internal injuries were critical. Mr. Granger returned to his family. He was saddened to see his daughter with puffy red eyes and clinging to her mother. “It's just so awful, he's only my age.” Mr. Granger tried to console her in the only way he could. “I'm sure he's going to be okay honey, the doctors said that they were going to take good care of him.” She didn't look too convinced but let her mother guide her back to the car. Mr. Granger looked around for the security guard and found him standing just inside the entrance. “Did you find the boy's parents?”

“Didn't have any. Was with his aunt. She didn't seem too affected by the whole ordeal. She said she'd ring later to see how he was doing. Bloody hell, some people just don't care,” he said with a cold voice full of contempt.

At the hospital the doctors were working tirelessly on getting Harry fixed up. After many hours in surgery they managed to stop the internal bleeding. They moved him to a comfortable ward and now all they could do was wait. The ward was quite empty when the doctors left but soon after a two cracking noises were heard. But Harry was still in a deep coma and he didn't wake.

In the dark ward which was only lit by one small lamp, appeared a tall thin man with a long silver beard. He was wearing a long purple cloak which swept the ground and high heeled buckled boots. His usually bright blues eyes were full of concern. He was accompanied by another. She was a rather sever looking woman who was wearing square glasses and also wore a long cloak an emerald one. She looked very agitated. “Shouldn't we do something Albus, can't we move him to Hogwarts. Just until he fully recovers. Poppy can examine him,” she said in a serious tone.

“No, he is being cared for quite well here, he should make a full recovery by the time he receives his letter.” Dumbledore replied calmly. He bent over Harry's still form. It looked as if he was checking him over and Professor McGonagall knew that even though he kept a calm exterior he was very worried. After a few minutes of examining Harry, Dumbledore stepped back from the bedside looking quite reassured. “Yes, he should be okay. Remus was very upset earlier. He was there when it happened. Of course, he couldn't do anything, not in front of a crowd of muggles. He said that there was a man there who was first to help Harry. He seemed to take control of the situation. Remus said that Harry was running and didn't notice the car.”

“But why was he running Albus, I mean he must be quite foolish to run out in front of an oncoming car.” said Professor McGonagall mystified. Dumbledore looked at her, a smile on his face. “I don't know why he was running Minerva, but I assure you that Harry is anything but foolish. In time you'll come to see that.” Professor McGonagall took a seat in the straight backed chair beside the hospital bed. Dumbledore drew himself a chair with his wand and then took a seat opposite her on the other side of the bed. They sat there for a while talking about the wizarding world. They then fell into silence. All that could be heard was the slow beeping of a machine which was connected to Harry. They both looked at Harry with thoughtful expressions. “Will he be powerful Albus?” Minerva asked, her voice almost a whisper. Dumbledore looked at her with a knowing smile on his. “It's getting quite late, we best be going.”

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Chapter Three

Harry awoke two days after the accident. He pieced together what had happened the day of the accident, with some assistance from the doctors. One of the doctors on duty the day Harry was brought in told him that there was one specific man who really helped him. Harry would have liked to thank the man but he had no idea who it was. He felt foolish for reacting so rashly to the situation. He still couldn't remember anything after the enormous amount of pain he had felt and then he had heard a high-petrified scream, but after that he remembered nothing.

The Dursleys visited him about twice in the next three weeks. The doctors were satisfied with Harry's recovery. During surgery it looked like Harry would never fully recover as it seemed like part of his brain had shut down yet near the end he was showing more brain activity than was usual. His recovery was most amazing and a near miracle according to the doctors.

When he left, on a rainy November evening, he was accompanied by a nurse who he had come to know from his stay in the hospital. She smiled sadly as she watched the young boy make his way down the exit of the hospital where a shiny silver car awaited him. The people in the car were waiting impatiently and as Harry neared the car where the Dursleys sat, Uncle Vernon got out in a huff and nearly dragged Harry into the backseat.

The nurse was shocked by this behavior, the young boy was only new to his crutches and wasn't yet accustomed to them, hence the slow exit, but couldn't the intolerant and rude man give the boy a chance. She nearly started crying when Harry straightened himself up in the car and gave her what he thought was a comforting smile. She didn't have the ability to interfere in other people's business so she did all she could and gave him a wave goodbye, which he returned.

Harry sighed inwardly as they neared Privet Drive. For a few moments before the accident he had believed he would never have to enter the house again, a moment of pure happiness even through his panic, but now he was returning and he could barely walk, he was a sitting target for Dudley.

Harry was correct with most of his assumptions; he usually was as he lived with a family like the Dursley's. Walking with the aid of crutches was difficult at first and Dudley spent a lot of his time trying to trip Harry up, but soon Harry grew used to them. Harry was relieved to find that they were quite easy to manage, because in no time at all he was returning to school. His teacher was insufferable to say the least. Ms. Hannon was a short, blond woman who spoke in a thick welsh accent. She insisted that Harry retell the story of the accident to the rest of the class and then she spent a few weeks teaching the class on proper road safety in order to prevent another accident.

Christmas passed as usual in the Dursley household. Aunt Petunia cooked a delicious feast and Uncle Vernon found the tallest Christmas tree which would fit into the living room of Number Four, while Dudley received all the Christmas presents he had wanted. Harry also spent Christmas as usual, locked away in his cupboard pretending he didn't exist.

Snow never made its way to Little Whinging so January passed by slowly and unnoticed. February followed, with no sign of change. Harry spent all of his time in his cupboard, his leg was still in a cast, the damage to it might have been irreparable had it not been for Harry's strength in recovery. He had had two operations on it while in hospital and was due to have the cast removed mid-March.

And so March arrived, bringing with it gusty winds and casual rain. Harry was counting down the days till he could be relieved of his cast. He had grown to hate it. It made him fell vulnerable as more than once Dudley's gang had thrown things at him as he made his way home from school.

It was a wet and miserable day as Harry was packing his things away into his school-bag. He was truly bored as all they had been doing was drawing pictures and then coloring them in. Harry didn't view this as learning and thought it was childish. He glanced out the window as the class lined up at the door waiting for the sound of the bell. The rain was falling heavily against the windows, the sound was almost deafening. Harry noticed a few cars waiting outside the school gates, parents that had come to collect their children and prevent pneumonia. Dudley would probably get a lift off one of his friend's parents.

Harry sighed as he made his way out the exit of the school. By the time he reached the green school gates he was completely frozen. Shivering, he opened the gate and walked through it. He lost his balance occasionally as his crutches slid on the slippery pavement. He got a glimpse of Dudley getting into Mrs. Polkiss' land rover. He gave Harry a very sly smile then laughed. Harry ignored him and continued his way home. Suddenly he heard someone shout his name and he turned around to find himself face to face with the remaining members of Dudley's gang. Before he knew it they had encircled him. Dennis stepped out of the circle. “How's your leg, Potter. Is it still hurting you,” he asked with a sneer on his face.

Then Dennis moved to kick Harry's leg. Harry shut his eyes waiting for the pain to strike. He wanted everything to stop. He didn't want to feel the pain. But it never happened. Then it seemed that all sound had stopped, the silence was deafening to Harry. He opened his eyes to find Dennis still in the same position of kicking, but he was moving twice as slow. It seemed to Harry as if Dennis was in slow motion. Harry looked around to find his surroundings were in the same way as Dennis.

Suddenly Harry started thinking again. He moved his leg out of the dangerous position it was in now. He was amazed to find he still moved at the same speed. Then Harry heard a piercing noise in the back of his head. He turned around to see he was faced with a fist. He ducked and the fist made its slow progression over where his head had been moments ago. Then Harry aimed a punch at the owner of the fist, Gordon, and Gordon was thrown off his feet.

Then, through a blast of noise Harry realized time had returned to normal. He turned to see Dudley's gang with looks of pure shock on their faces. They had all tried to hit him and he had dodged all their attempts. Harry realized he was out of breath, he must have been moving quite fast. Yet to Harry he had been moving at a normal rate. “H…how did y...you do that,” asked Dennis, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “Nobody can move that quick. It's impossible.”

Gordon stood up from the wet ground. His trousers were soaked but he had a heavy jacket so he wasn't shaking as Harry was. He had a look of fury on his face but obviously didn't want to fight Harry again. “You freak!” he shouted, then he ran and shortly after Dennis and Malcolm followed.

Harry's mind was racing as he made his way back to the Dursley's. How had he gained such attuned reflexes? What was that shrill noise he had heard that warned him of Gordon's fist?

The next few weeks flew by. Harry gladly had his cast removed. He was still baffled as to his new reflexes. He hadn't had the chance to test them out again. Harry guessed that his reflexes only worked in moments of danger.

Soon the summer was making its way towards Little Whinging. The sun was shining every morning blinding those who dared to look at it. The children were growing restless with the thought of the holidays and Harry finished school. Next year he would be going to the local comprehensive, Stonewall High. He was looking forward to it; for once he wouldn't be with Dudley as he was going to Uncle Vernon's old school, Smeltings.

Harry began hear the noises in the back of his head. They weren't shrill and piercing though, it was a light buzzing. They happened very rarely. Only once had Harry reacted to them.

He had been on his way home from the local library after saying farewell to Mr. Kravitov. He had heard the light buzzing and quickly turned around on the spot. He noticed a man looking at him. The man had long greasy black hair that curtained his face. He wore a long black cloak. Harry immediately noticed his hooked nose.

He would have laughed had he not been very apprehensive of the man. When he looked around again the man had vanished. This brought Harry to the conclusion that maybe the noises in the back of his head were not signs of his insanity, but warnings, maybe Harry had somehow gained another sense, a sixth sense.

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Chapter Four

The month of July was always hard for Harry. For one, Dudley's birthday was soon and Dudley was always spoiled rotten during his birthday, he was allowed free rein of the house and this included bullying Harry in the full knowledge of his mother and father. All Harry could do was stay far away from Dudley or any member of his gang. Dudley's gang was somewhat distant with Harry since March, but it didn't stop them from being at Dudley's side as he bullied and tormented Harry and other children. Harry had not felt what he called his “other sense” in a few weeks, and was worried that whatever it was was gone.

Another reason Harry never looked forward to July was because it was his birthday. His birthdays always went unnoticed by anyone but himself. He never received any presents or any birthday cards. He'd never admit it, but he was secretly jealous of the attention that Dudley received on his birthday. He found himself wishing that he could have just one last birthday with his parents. One last day, just so he could get to know them a bit more.

On the day of Dudley's birthday, Harry was sent to Mrs. Figg's cabbage smelling house. She was actually quite nice that day. She kept asking him how he was and offering him stale cake. She let Harry watch the television which was virtually impossible at the Dursley's considering Dudley. Harry spent a lot of his time helping Mrs. Figg maneuver around the house as she had sprained her ankle, tripping over one of her cats. He showed her how to use her crutches properly. In fact they had a lot of fun attempting to walk up the stairs.

The day after Dudley's birthday, something very strange happened to Harry, he received mail. At first Harry assumed it was from Mr. Kravitov so he decided he wouldn't let the Dursley's see it. He picked up the remaining post, a bill and a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister who was holidaying in the Isle of Wight. On his way back into the kitchen he quickly opened the door of his cupboard and furtively threw the letter inside, unfortunately the kitchen door was open and Aunt Petunia saw the letter. She gave an audible gasp and then an alarming shriek. Uncle Vernon then thundered his way down the hall, grabbed Harry by the end of his messy black hair and threw him into the living room. He then continued to search Harry's cupboard and after retrieving the letter made of yellowish parchment he examined it front and back.

“It's the same,” Aunt Petunia whispered. “It must be them, look at the address, I mean they even know where he sleeps. It must be them. Oh what are we going to do!” she whispered dramatically.

Harry was completely baffled about the commotion the letter had caused, but he really wanted to read it so he gathered up his courage and strode forward into the hall. “I want my letter, its mine, not yours, it has nothing to do with y…” but Harry was cut off as Uncle Vernon hit him viciously, which sent Harry tumbling into the living room. Uncle Vernon then locked the living room door and returned to the kitchen. “Dudley, go to your room. NOW!” Dudley would have protested but the look that his father gave him was so full of fury that Dudley left, grateful to be out of the presence of his mad father.

“We are not going to do anything, we'll ignore them. They'll go away as soon as they realize we don't care. End of discussion,” he said lifting himself up to his tallest height in order to look proud of his decision. “But…” started Aunt Petunia. “NO, listen to me; I will not have one in the house. We swore when we took him in that we'd stop all this nonsense, and that is what we will do.”

That was when it began. Harry desperately wanted to read his letter, he wanted to find out who had written to him after all these years, and also what had driven his Uncle into insanity. Harry had a deep cut over his left eye from where his uncle had hit him. He noticed how aggressive his uncle had become. Dudley spent a lot of his time out of the house obviously stricken by his parent's behavior. This continued for two days until another three letters made there way to Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon was furious, he didn't hit Harry though, and he burned the letters and spent the rest of the day boarding up the letterbox.

Harry remained in his dark cupboard listening to the sound of his uncle's drill. Then Harry heard his Uncle roar his name and Harry in his haste smacked his head while exiting his cupboard. Harry blinked the blood out of his eye; he had obviously re-opened the cut over his left eye. Harry had been wondering about the day he received the cut, and how come his other sense hadn't come into use. It could have helped him a lot he thought as he wiped the blood away. “Go make lunch, NOW!” his uncle bellowed.

The next day more letters arrived. They had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides and a few had even been forced through the small window in the downstairs toilet. Harry tried his best to get the letters but his uncle had burned them as soon as he had picked them up.

More letters followed the next day. Rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their bewildered milk man handed through the window to Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon was absolutely furious and shouted at the milk man until he was reduced to tears.

That night Harry was to be found in his small, dark cupboard reading a book. He was using the torch he had found in the garden shed while he had been gardening. The Dursley's were in their comfortable beds so Harry had the cupboard door slightly ajar. The landing light was on so Harry could see the shadow of the stairs reflected on the opposite wall, but right now he was engrossed in a book about a vampire. He was reading in his cupboard a great deal more since the letters because he wanted to take his mind off them.

Just then there was a number of cracking noises from the living room. Harry stopped breathing; he stayed stock still and didn't make a sound. Then there was a whoosh and all the lights went off in the house, including Harry's torch. He then heard footsteps into the hall and was sure that someone was standing right outside his cupboard. Burglars, Harry thought. He decided he would have to stop them. Harry used his feet to push the door open and kicked whoever was standing over him. But Harry also lost his balance and ended up on the ground.

“Harry, please don't try to run, I assure you, we are not here to hurt you,” an old voice said from somewhere above him. Harry seemed to calm down after the voice had stopped. He pulled himself up off the ground. The man who Harry had hit to the ground also pulled himself up while straightening his cloak, Harry immediately recognized him as the man who had been watching him a few weeks ago. “Albus, I think some light would help,” said a woman's voice from the corner.” “Yes Minerva, maybe would should step into the kitchen.”

Harry walked through to the kitchen which was instantly flooded with light. He turned around to see the man he had knocked to the ground, dressed in all black, then an old woman who had a stern face and Harry's immediate thought was this was not someone to cross. Last to enter the kitchen was a very tall, thin man. He smiled politely at Harry and held out his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself, Albus Dumbledore.” Harry shook it and replied, “Harry Potter, sir.”

“Sorry, but what are you doing in my aunt and uncle's kitchen, in the middle of the night,” Harry asked mystified. He had come to the conclusion that these people were friendly, except maybe for the one with the greasy black hair. “Well we concluded that you had not received your letter and decided we would just tell you what it held.” Harry became quite excited. These people had come for him, and now he would find out what was in that letter. “Would you like to take a seat,” Harry asked courteously.

When they were all seated, Dumbledore started talking about a place called Hogwarts and how delighted he would be if Harry agreed to go. Harry just stared at him, “What is Hogwarts? I mean is there a difference between there and Stonewall High?” The woman named Minerva gave Harry a piercing stare. “Hogwarts is a school of magic, the only one in Britain. I mean where do you think your parents learnt it all?”

Harry was thrown off with the mention of magic but then he heard something about his parents and immediately switched back on. “You knew them. How? What did they learn?”

Dumbledore stood up, walked around the table and stood in front of Harry. “I was afraid of this, but I am not surprised,” he said more to himself than anyone else. He took hold of both of Harry's shoulders and leaned forward, looking Harry directly in the eyes.

“Harry, you're a wizard. You have the ability to see and use magic. Just as you're parents did.”

Harry just stared at the elderly man in front of him. He must be off his rocker to believe in magic. “Okay....so my parents were wizards,” he started. “Wizard and witch” Minerva corrected.

Harry was beginning to lose his temper, he thought he was going to learn more about his parents, but these people really didn't know anything. “Listen, if you're here for a good laugh, leave, because I'm not in the mood. I thought you'd tell me more about my mum and dad but you probably never knew them. Fine, so I do believe there is something unexplainable out there and yeah there's a chance it could be magic, but I certainly can't see or use it because I wouldn't have been a bloody punch bag for the last nine years. And I don't think my parents were either because they wouldn't have died in that stupid car-crash and left me here on my own!”

By the time he was finished Harry was out of breath. “He doesn't know anything, nothing, his parents, you-know-who!” Minerva exclaimed.

Dumbledore stood there, disappointed etched in his face. He had let Harry down. He sat back down in his seat and looked at Harry. “Harry, I think it is time we right some wrongs.”

And so they spent the next few minutes, explaining everything to Harry. Harry sat shocked, completely frozen on the other side of the pine kitchen table. He was relieved to find his parents were not like the Dursley's and that they were liked throughout the wizarding community. Snape watched closely as Harry fingered his scar realizing the importance of it; he hadn't spoken a word since Harry had attacked him in the hall.

“Murdered,” Harry whispered to himself. “Do the Dursley's know about all of this, about me?”

“Yes, they were supposed to tell you everything. Obviously they were afraid of the consequences,” Dumbledore said simply.

“So what does this mean? I go to Hogwarts, learn magic, do I have to return here after the school year?”

“I'm afraid so, there is protection here against Voldemort,” said Dumbledore sadly, ignoring his two companions as they flinched. “But we could find you accommodation for the remaining of you're holidays.” A smile playing across his face as he saw the happiness in Harry.

“Tomorrow, Harry, a man named Rubeus Hagrid will come and collect you. He will bring you to Diagon Alley in London where you will buy your school supplies. I think you will remain at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of your holiday. It is a lovely place and has a most memorable atmosphere.

As they were leaving, Dumbledore pointed his wand up the stairs and muttered something. He then looked at the confused expression on Harry's face. “I'm just removing the silencing charm.'

Just before he disappeared Dumbledore turned to Harry. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

End Chapter

Not the best chapter, but it was obviously important. Anyhow, the next chapter will be much longer, so give me about a week. I'll take the book in chunks, if you get my meaning, it means the story won't be the longest but also means Book 2 should happen, unless I die, which will hopefully not happen for another few years. Thank you so much for the reviews. And also, do you think Harry should be friends with Hermione before Ron. I was leaning towards yes..

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Chapter Five

The large and beautiful circular room was now empty, there were no noises except for a number of curious silver instruments that stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. An enormous, claw footed desk sat facing the large wooden door. A roaring fire danced in the fireplace, the main source of light in the room.

Soon voices could be heard outside and three people walked in, one looking very agitated. “Albus, he should be removed immediately. He is in danger while staying there, did you not see the cut he had over his left eye. And remember his `accident' a few months back. It was quite obvious he was running away from something or more likely someone!” McGonagall said, wringing her hands.

“Minerva, I have seen precisely what you have seen, but it is my belief, that Harry faces more danger in Lord Voldemort, than he does with his relatives.” When McGonagall tried to argue, he continued in a more commanding tone. “Harry will stay the remainder of his holiday in Diagon Alley. After the school year he will return to Little Whinging, but maybe he will not return to the Dursley's, who knows.” Dumbledore once again had that knowing smile on his face, which told Snape and McGonagall that he knew more about the situation then they did.

Professor McGonagall sighed in defeat. “I'm just worried. When I used to watch him during the summer, he always looked as if he had given up hope.”

Dumbledore adorned a kind smile. “Well then, hopefully we can return his hope.” McGonagall chuckled at his choice of words. Snape just gave him an uninterested look, his sallow skin illuminated by the flames of the fire.

“Severus, a word if you please,” Dumbledore said quietly. McGonagall wished them goodnight and returned to her quarters, secretly grateful not to be in the office while they spoke, she had sneaky suspicion what it was about.

Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk. “I ask only one thing of you this year, do not hold Harry's father against him. It would do no good.” Snape looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he nodded and quietly left the room.

Dumbledore remained writing in his office until there was a burst of flame on his desk and a beautiful bird appeared. It had a wonderful red and gold plumage and was very handsome. It dropped a letter on Dumbledore's desk and then went to its perch.

Dumbledore picked up the letter and read it carefully. A thoughtful expression on his face, he said, “My, my Nicholas. It has been a long time”

Harry woke the next morning, after only a few hours sleep. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes then ran upstairs to have quick shower before he left the Dursleys. He was surprised to find that the Dursley's were not yet up from there sleep, but then after giving it more thought he realized that there was probably some magic at play.

Harry found his best pair of clothes, which really were worn down as they had once belonged to Dudley. It was a very baggy red shirt and a faded pair of jeans. It seemed only a few minutes later that there was a huge knock on the front door. Harry wondered whether some of the paint had been scraped off.

He opened the door cautiously and his jaw dropped. Standing in front of him was a giant of a man. He was twice the size of a normal man, and at least five times as wide. Harry thought he looked wild- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins.

Harry would have been terrified had he not seen the man eyes. They were glinting like black beetles under all the hair, yet now they were crinkled in a smile. Harry quickly closed his mouth as he thought he must look very rude. “Hullo, Harry. My name's Hagrid.” He held out his hand and shook Harry's whole arm. “Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. God, yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes.”

Harry would have gone and packed all his things together but as he didn't have anything he just left. As they were walking down Privet Drive Harry asked Hagrid where they were going. “Up t' London, get all yer school supplies.” Harry then thought of something that made him stop dead in his tracks. “But Hagrid I don't have any money!' Hagrid laughed sympathetically. “Yer don think yer parents left you anything. They left you money but its in a bank called Gringotts.”

“Really, I didn't know wizards had banks.” Harry said. He was very interested in the matter of wizards. Hagrid told Harry all about Hogwarts and told him things concerning the wizarding community. Harry wondered how the wizards remained among what Hagrid called Muggles for so long. They talked like this until they arrived in London. Harry had never been in London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know his way around, he was obviously not used to getting there in the ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

They walked through the streets of London fairly quickly due to Hagrid's size which parted the crowd easily. They passed book shops, music shops, hamburger bars and cinemas, but nowhere looked as if they could sell a magic wand. Then after a few more minutes, Hagrid stopped outside a tiny, grubby-looking pub. “Ah, here we are, The Leaky Cauldron, bes' mead in Britain, s'far as I'm concerned. Tis a famous place.” Hagrid said as he ushered Harry in

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. There was a strong smell of ancient rotting wood mixed in with alcohol. Harry turned his attention to the people who were currently in the pub. A few old women sat in the corner drinking tiny glasses of ruby colored sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A few wizards sat in the corner playing what Harry supposed was poker, but every now and again the deck of cards would start screaming. There was a loud chattering going on when they had entered the pub, but as they made their way through the crowd of people standing at the bar, Harry realized the babbling became less noisy. By the time they reached the back door of the pub there was dead silence. Hagrid turned around to look at the silent customers and Harry followed his gaze.

The Leaky Cauldron had gone completely still. Harry heard the scraping of a chair which resounded in the silence. An elderly wizard with a top hat bent down and stared at Harry with wonder in his eyes. “Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter.”

All of a sudden, there was a great increase in the level of noise as people made their way forward to see Harry, who found himself shaking hands with nearly everyone in the pub.

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back. Wait till I tell Cedric, he won't believe me.”

“Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last.”

“So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud.”

This continued for a few minutes until Hagrid made himself heard over the crowd and announced that he and Harry had business to attend to.

They made their way out into a tiny courtyard, Harry's mind still on what had happened. He couldn't believe it. In all his life he had only spoke to a few people, and now he was in a world where everyone wanted to see and speak to him. The strangest thing was that it was the same world; also Harry wasn't sure how much he liked it. All those people thought he was famous, a legend, that he was some sort of hero, but he couldn't even remember anything of that night ten years ago.

Hagrid was meanwhile tapping the opposite wall of the courtyard. A small hole appeared and grew wider and seconds later, they were facing a tall archway. Hagrid walked through as if nothing spectacular had happened, while Harry sported a look of amazement. Harry could almost feel the magic from Diagon Alley. Shop signs jutted out dangerously on to the long winding path which led to a snowy white building. On either side of the path were shops selling robes, potion ingredients, animals and spell books. People were bustling by with varying colored robes, making Harry feel as if the whole street was actually moving.

As they approached the golden doors of Gringotts, Harry realized that there were two goblins standing on either side of the entrance. Hagrid seeing the expression on Harry's face whispered “Don't worry Harry. If you don't mess with them they won' do ye no harm. But I don't wish to spend too long in here, so we bes' get goin.”

They entered a vast marble hall. There were designs on the floor of the hall and also on the roof. Counters surrounded them; goblins were scribbling in ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales or examining precious stones through eye glasses. When they approached the counter Hagrid seemed to be a bit agitated and in a hurry. He became flustered when the goblin ignored them and continued trying to count in his head as he read the calculations off a long roll. “245 plus 674……. plus 1,236… plus 832.” He paused for a second. Harry who was also getting a bit impatient decided to speed up the dealings. “2987.” The goblin looked shocked. He peered at Harry for a moment before reading out more numbers. “876…663…753…1,943.” He looked up at Harry expectantly. “4226.” Harry replied. The goblin read out more numbers and about ten minutes later, after Harry had answered more questions which included division and minor algebra, the goblin decided to start the dealings. Harry looked at Hagrid who winked encouragingly at him and gave him a huge smile. He looked very pleased.

Harry was made to sign some forms as he was now in charge of the vault. He found it hard to concentrate considering the goblin serving them kept staring at him. A few minutes later, Hagrid, Harry and a goblin named Griphook were hurtling through passages under the ground until they stopped quite abruptly at a vault. Harry climbed out eagerly; he wanted to find out how much money there was in the vault. It wasn't the fact that he wanted to spent the inheritance; it was just the fact that the money had once belonged to his parents and this was all he had left from them.

Harry nearly collapsed when the vault door opened. There were mounds of gold coins, columns of silver coins and heaps of bronze coins. Harry began to pile some of the money into a bag, while Hagrid told him the names of the coins and how much they were worth.

When they had clambered back into the cart, Harry was surprised to find they weren't going back to the exit. When he asked Hagrid this, he replied “Sorry `arry, jus' some Hogwarts business. More'n my jobs worth ter tell the that.”

Hagrid got back out of the cart at the next stop. He quickly opened the vault door with Griphook's assistance and took something out, which he then placed in his pocket.

When they made there way back into the marble hall Harry turned to see Hagrid who still looked very pleased about something. “What?” Harry asked questioningly. “Where'd ye learn to add up so fast, eh? That was summit else, that was. You even had that goblin stumped.”

Harry was about to answer that he didn't think it was that special, just that he was always good with numbers, when there was a shout behind them and the sound of running footsteps echoed in the hall. Harry turned to see a man making his way towards him. “Great Scott, you're alright.”

Harry didn't have the faintest idea who this man was. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and wore a brown faded leather jacket, so Harry had to guess he was a muggle. “Er, sorry, but do I know you?' he asked in what he hoped was a polite way. `You wouldn't remember me, I was there the day you had your accident. I tried to contact you but the hospital didn't have any information on you. But my god it's good to see you're doing well. My wife and daughter are probably in a bookshop, they were there also, the day you had the accident. My daughter was more worried than I was.”

Harry found himself startled by this news. “Well, em, thank you for helping me. I think the doctor mentioned you while I was in hospital. So, are you a wizard?”

“No, no. My daughter is a witch though. She was ever so excited when she received her letter. My wife and I were tempted to sedate her!” he joked. “Well I best be off, my wife will scold me if I don't go now, considering I have the money. Hope I see you again. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Said Harry as he watched the man leave. “Wow, small world, eh, Hagrid.”

They made their way out to the sunlit streets, the sunlight dazzling there eyes as they spent so much time underground. They first went to a shop where Harry bought his cauldron and also some potion ingredients. After visiting another few shops picking up various needed things, they made their way to a book shop called Flourish & Blotts. The shop was packed with shelves containing books of all sorts. Hagrid had brought a list of all the books Harry needed. Harry had great fun looking through the different books and even bought a book that wasn't on the list. He thought it might help him in his studies. It was called More Magical Methods by Nixdork Spellarama. It was basically some background on some spells and also magical methods. There were a few chapters devoted to wand control.

After they had finished at the bookstore Hagrid told Harry that he should get his wand next. “I'm goin to go get your birthday present while you get yer wand.” Harry felt himself go red with embarrassment. He'd never received a birthday present, and he didn't even know Hagrid that long. “Please, y…you don't h…have to.” Harry stammered. Hagrid smiled sympathetically and put his arm around Harry's shoulders and shook him, which nearly sent Harry flying considering Hagrid's size. “I know, I'll get you yer animal. An owl! They're dead useful, and great pets.” He walked off before Harry could argue.

Harry made his own way to the shop Hagrid had told him to go. Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C hung over the narrow and shabby building. As Harry entered, he had the feeling that there was magic everywhere. Like magic had replaced the air. He shut the door silently and the noises from outside immediately ceased. “Good afternoon.”

Harry didn't know how he knew, but for some reason he had anticipated the voice he had heard. He put it down to the fact that there was so much magic surrounding him. A man stepped out from behind the shelves. He was old and his wide, pale eyes were shining in the gloom of the shop. “Ah, I wondered when I'd be seeing you. Harry Potter.”

Mr. Ollivander began stepping closer to Harry and took out a tape measure and began to take Harry's measurements. He then walked over to the shelves and began lifting off boxes of wands for Harry to try. The first wand Harry tried produced red and green sparks. Ollivander gazed at it thoughtfully. “Hmm, does it feel right?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. “No, it doesn't.” Harry replied, again he didn't know how he knew. He tried more wands each with the same effect. Mr. Ollivander seemed very excited and yet thoughtful. He decided he would take the measurement again. He went to retrieve the tape measure which he had left on his small mahogany desk. When he turned back around, he watched amazed as Harry walked straight over to one of the shelves and removed a box from the stack.

Harry gazed down at the box, and slowly removed the wine-colored cover. He took the wand in his hand and lifted it out of the box. Suddenly, it felt as if the shop had begun to shake. Boxes fell off shelves and a glass vase of flowers toppled off Mr. Ollivanders desk and smashed on to the ground. Then it stopped and all that could be heard was the very quiet rambling of the shoppers outside. “This one.” Harry said.

A few minutes later Harry left the shop with his new wand in his pocket. Mr.Ollivander had been completely shocked at Harry's choice. Most curious he had said when he examined the wand. He then told Harry that the same phoenix whose tail feather resides in Harry's wand gave another feather-just one other. “It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother-why, it's brother gave you that scar.” He had said. Harry was dumb-founded. He left the shop a bit shaken and also in a state of shock.

Mr. Ollivander repaired his shop, he laughed at the amount of times Harry had apologized. He then went straight to the back of the shop and searched through a book shelf until he came across a black leather-bound one. He rifled through the pages and finally found the one he was looking for. He nearly dropped the book when he read what he needed to. That the last wizard or witch who had ever had such a reaction to their wand as Harry had was Merlin.

Harry found Hagrid in the Leaky Cauldron. Hagrid seemed a bit embarrassed to be found drinking in a pub, when he was supposed to helping Harry, but Harry just laughed it off saying that when he was old enough, Hagrid could buy him a drink as compensation. Hagrid chuckled, he was glad to see Harry had come a bit more out of his shell since that morning. “Here ye go, Harry. Happy Birthday,” he said, handing him over a cage. The cage was large and held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. Harry couldn't stop stammering his thanks. Hagrid then booked a room for Harry to stay in for the remainder of his holidays and organized dinner.

As they ate dinner together, Harry voiced some of his worries from earlier on. “Everyone thinks I'm special, they all expect so much. But I don't know anything about magic at all. I mean, I suppose I can try and do some research before I go to Hogwarts but everyone expects these great things. I mean they think I'm famous because I defeated Vol- sorry You-Know-Who, but I don't even remember that night, I mean I can't even remember my parents.” Harry sighed in frustration. He let his knife and fork fall to the plate as he wasn't in the mood to eat anymore. He then felt stupid for sharing his feelings with Hagrid, after all they weren't Hagrid problems. “Sorry Hagrid.” Hagrid leant across the table wearing a very kind smile. “Don't worry, you'll learn quick enough, if yer anythin like yer parents, which I can already see yer are. I know its hard, you've been singled out and that's always hard. But you'll have a great time at Hogwarts-I did-still do s'matter of fact.”

After dinner Hagrid said goodbye to Harry while Harry thanked him for the wonderful birthday. As Harry lay on his very comfortable four-poster bed, he wondered what lay in his future. He had to admit that he was nervous, but then again anything that was in the future couldn't be worse than his past, could it?

End Chapter

Well there's another chapter. Hope you like it. Thanks for reading it. I'm off to bed I'm absolutely knackered, anyway thanks again, and don't forget to review, please! Also I wanted to ask whether I should make this darker than Philosopher's Stone. I was leaning towards yes, what do you think?

Take care, all,

Radagast

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Chapter Six

The room that Harry stayed in had very little furniture. The moth-eaten curtains reminded Harry of dusty carpets. Dust lay on the wooden wardrobe and also on a bedside cabinet. There was also a desk that held a single lamp, which Harry believed might be useful. Facing the bed was a full length mirror which often shouted advice at Harry. There was an ancient looking couch beside the window that looked out onto the roof of the opposite facing building.

Tom the barman, who looked uncannily like a gummy walnut, woke Harry the next morning. Harry was surprised to find that he had slept fully clothed, so after having a shower to freshen up in his en-suite bathroom, he arrived down in the lounge for breakfast. There was not as many people in the pub as there had been the day before, which Harry was relieved to see, so he ate his breakfast in peace, thanked Tom for the service and returned to his room. He had decided he would look through some of his books today.

He emptied his books onto the desk and searched through them for a promising book. He found it within a few seconds, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One by Miranda Goshawk. He opened the book delicately and placed it on his bed. He read through some of the context before deciding he would try to perform some of the spells. He knew it was risky and possibly dangerous, but his thirst for knowledge prevailed and before he knew it he had his wand in hand and was looking at a levitation spell. After reciting the saying of the spell, he pointed his wand at the book lying, looking very vulnerable, on his bed.

He took a deep breath, swished and flicked his wand and spoke the spell out loudly. “Wingardium Leviosa.” Harry felt a surge of power through his arm, and then the book began to pick itself up off the bed and levitated about a foot above it. Harry lowered his wand, a small smile on his face as he realized he had just performed magic.

An hour later and Harry was nearly half-way through the book of spells. He found that some spells required more concentration than others. He lay on the bed, feeling a bit drained from the magic. He decided he would rest, but not for long. He needed to go and get his school robes, Hagrid had told him where to go and what to get.

Harry got up and retrieved another book from his desk, this time it was the one he had bought for some background reading, More Magical Methods. He opened it and lay down on his stomach to read it. He read for about ten minutes about proper wand control and movements, just as he was about to close the book, he read a sentence at the very end of the page. It read:

Even though wizards generally perform better with wands there have been the very rare occasion another device has been used. As the wizard is the source of magic himself and not the object, this makes it possible to focus the power of magic elsewhere. For example Merlin used a staff. Also the practice of wandless or mind magic, which very few wizards or witches succeed in mastering without difficulties.

Harry pondered the possibilities of wandless magic. It would be quicker and that would be an advantage in a wizard's duel which the book mentioned in an earlier chapter. He decided he would try it out, even thought there was such a slim chance of success.

He walked to the edge of the couch, at a safe distance from the book. He stood still with his arm outstretched and shouted aloud “Wingardium Leviosa.” Nothing happened. He tried a few times to no effect. So he decided he would leave it for today.

He cleaned up the room, stacking the books back on his desk and making his bed. He then made his way down the rickety wooden staircase. He went into the courtyard and tapped the wall with his wand, “Three up…. Two across.” He then stepped back and watched as the archway appeared.

A few minutes later he entered Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. She was currently working on a boy at the back of the shop. He had a pale, pointed face, and was looking at Madam Malkin with a look of disgust on his face. “If that pin touches me one more time, I swear I will tell my father.” The smile that had previously graced Madam Malkin's face had vanished to be replaced by a look of outrage and what Harry suspected as fear. She didn't reply but quickly returned to dressing the intolerant boy.

When she had finished she went to calculate how much the boy owed her. The boy sauntered into the front of the shop where Harry was waiting. He eyed Harry and walked up to the counter. “You Hogwarts?” he asked, in what Harry thought a rude manner. “Yes” Harry replied shortly. The boy sighed audibly. “I knew they just let anybody in, I thought they might change, I guess they didn't. By the look of you, I'd say you were muggle-born.” He spat the last word.

Harry made no response. He knew the boy was being offensive and that he reminded him of Dudley but he didn't want to get into a fight with someone who probably knew more magic than he did. “I'm the purest wizard there is.” The boy announced proudly. “Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Remember the name. Anyway, what's yours? If you're not muggle-born I might have heard of your family.”

Harry gave him a look which made Malfoy rethink his situation and also what he was going to say. “I don't think you care,” Harry whispered as he stood up off the chair he was sitting on. At that moment Madam Malkin returned. Malfoy quickly gave her the money and left the shop, but not before he shoved into Harry and said “I'm not afraid of you.”

Harry wasn't long in Madam Malkin's shop. Actually he had tried to speed it up after she found some bruising on his arm, compliments of Uncle Vernon. He had desperately pulled down his sleeve and then looked anywhere but at her. Uncle Vernon didn't hurt him physically a lot. And Harry had told himself for years that when he had been hurt that it was his fault. That it was a just punishment. Deep down he knew he was building a fortress of lies to protect himself from the truth. He didn't want to pity himself and he never liked anyone to pity him. Madam Malkin didn't further the subject but she did look near tears when he was leaving.

He knew she meant well, but he hated it. He hated being sympathized with. Because they'd never know the full truth, no one ever wanted to know the full truth. He made a quick trip to Gringotts to exchange some of his money to pounds. Then he strolled back to the Leaky Cauldron, negative thoughts floating through his head. When he pushed open the door he was met with a crowd of people who immediately scurried around him. He fought his way to the stairs and then ran to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He dropped his bags on the floor then went over and opened the window to let some air in, the bedroom felt very warm even though it was actually quite cool outside. He opened his wardrobe and noticed he had one pair of clothes. So he decided he would go into muggle London and but some clothes for the school year, he wouldn't need much considering he would mostly wear his school robes, just a pair of trousers and two or three t-shirts, and maybe a jumper.

After battling through the bar again he finally made his way out to the street. He couldn't believe how different it felt then Diagon Alley, probably the knowledge that out here they didn't believe in magic wands or potions or know that buried deep beneath them were caves of gold, silver and bronze. He went into the first shop he saw that sold clothes, but after a few moments he knew he didn't like the type of clothes. The shop was full of tracksuits and shiny runners and shoes. He didn't want to buy sportswear so he went back onto the street.

After browsing a few more shops, he arrived in a shop that felt more like him. It was a darker shop than any of the others. Most of the clothes were black. He bought three t-shirts that had band-names written on them. Nirvana, System of a Down and Greenday. He then bought a pair of baggy jeans and a black hoody. He also bought a hat that he could wear to hide his scar and also his identity; He arrived back at the Leaky Cauldron at dinner time and ate alone at the bar. He then went back to his room and read through his school books for the rest of the night.

The next two weeks flew by for Harry. He watched as more people his age began to arrive at Diagon Alley preparing for the school year. He ate breakfast at the bar every morning, he found it unusual not to cook his own breakfast. He enjoyed breakfast; often some of the other guests would chat with him about the wizarding world.

They were from all different parts of the country. There was even one from Bulgaria who was in Britain to speak to the Minister about what he called `secret matters'. They were all enthusiastic talkers and as Harry had no stories of his own, he was a good listener. Most of the wizards he had met so far were friendly, except for Draco Malfoy, who fortunately Harry had not seen since.

Harry continued looking through his books. He could also use Diagon Alley to study magic as, while there, Harry was surrounded by it. He tried to find whether it was common for wizards to have what he called his sixth sense but there was no mention of it whatsoever. He didn't want to ask anybody incase they thought he was mad. During his studies he found a name for his owl, Hedwig. He let her out at night so she could hunt, and she really was good company, even though she couldn't talk. Harry thought she had very human gestures; she often glared at him if he didn't brush his teeth or comb his hair. The hat that Harry had bought worked wonderfully, almost no one stopped him when he was trying to walk through Diagon Alley, and they merely wondered why someone was wearing a winter hat in mid-August.

With ten days left until his departure to Hogwarts, Harry was becoming very anxious. Sometimes he was so nervous he contemplated going, other times he was so excited he wanted to go earlier.

One day Harry spotted the man who had accompanied Dumbledore to Privet Drive, entering the bar. The man looked as sour as ever and walked briskly up to the bar and whispered something to the bar man, who then showed him to one of the more private rooms that the pub had. Harry became immediately suspicious, he didn't know why but he had always been a curious child. He silently left the table he had been sitting at walked in the direction of his room, but he veered off at the bathroom which was located right beside the room the man had walked into. Hopefully he would be able to hear what this obviously frustrated man was doing.

He walked into one of the cubicles and closed the door silently. He pressed his ear to the wall and could hear raised voices, but to Harry they were murmurs. He wished he could hear exactly what they were saying. Suddenly Harry heard the piercing noise at the back of his head; he placed both his hands on the back of his head as he felt as if his brain was being scrambled, then it stopped as suddenly as it had come. Then he heard new sound, voices through the wall, but not like he had heard them before, now he heard them as if they were right there in the room with him. He could hear the people inside the other room moving around, the footsteps sounding agitated. The man Harry knew as Severus was talking, “That is a completely unfounded accusation, I only met him a few weeks ago, and you already believe it was me who hit him. It was his uncle whom he lived with.”

Harry realized they were talking about him. He leaned close to the wall even though he could hear perfectly. Another voice spoke, a man's voice. It sounded harsh and there was a hint of a foreign accent in it. “But you do not like him, even though you only met. Hmm,” Harry heard a soft laugh and knew that whoever the man was, was laughing. But it sounded unnatural and Harry was sure it was forced. “The hatred you bear does not die with his father, eh?”

“What did you want Igor?” Severus snapped. The laughing died, so did all the other noises in the room. Harry knew the man named Igor was apprehensive about talking. “Well, I didn't know who else to tell, but, there are rumors, which I believe should be attended to. Or at least listened to. There are whispers in the east of a dark power approaching.” He whispered it so low Harry had to strain to hear it. “It could be Him. What are we going to do?” There was silence for a few moments and then.

“Nothing, we'll know when it is time to take action. For now we are quite safe.” He paused. “If that is all, I have to go.” He heard the scraping of a chair and then footsteps.

“What do you mean, if that is all? Do you think that blundering old fool can help you if He returns?” “There is no point worrying over something that might never happen.” Severus snapped. More hurried footsteps and then the noise of the door being opened. “And that blundering old fool who speak of is the best chance we have, if He does return.” The door was slammed shut.

Harry returned to his room in a state of shock. Were they talking about Voldemort? From what Harry heard, Voldemort was alive, but did he now have enough strength to return? And what was that about his father and Severus? These questions filled Harry's mind as he got ready for bed.

Another thing on his mind was his other sense. He could now increase his hearing range, and he had wished for it and it happened. Also it had happened when he wasn't in a dangerous situation. He felt very tired and concluded that using his other sense must drain in some way. “This is so cool.” Harry said aloud to no one.

“If you say so, dear.” His mirror replied.

When Harry went down to breakfast the next day, he was delighted to find Hagrid. Harry told Hagrid about the boy in Madam Malkin's and what he had said. “Ye see `arry, some wizard's think they're better than others because of their backgrounds. It's really awful it is, worst discrimination, you-know-who used to kill muggle-borns just cause o' what they were. Some `orrible killin's there was.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “ The Malfoy family were considered big supporters of you-know-who.” Harry thought about this and how it reminded him of the Holocaust. He also thought about Draco and realized that he would probably be a terrible bully. While sitting there, mindlessly listening to Hagrid, Harry vowed to himself that he would try and prevent people being hurt by Malfoy.

Okay this was a short chapter. I wholeheartedly apologize. Again, thank you so much for reviewing and reading. Oh, and for all those who are wondering how Harry can perform magic without being eaten by the Ministry officials, well he's in Diagon Alley, completely surrounded by magic, so it's much harder to detect. Hope you are all well, and hope you like the chapter.

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Seven

The time that was left for Harry's departure flew by. Harry increased the amount of time he spent studying, and Tom the barman noticed that Harry rarely left his room. He had stopped coming down for his dinner, so the only time Tom saw Harry was at breakfast, where he acted very withdrawn. The fact was, Harry was nervous about going to Hogwarts. One of the main reasons for his nerves was that he had never really interacted with other people his own age and he was apprehensive about meeting other people.

When Harry had been younger, everyone had ignored him or excluded him because of Dudley's gang. Once or twice people would talk to him, but when Harry went to talk to them the next day, they paid no attention to him afraid of what others would say. And so Harry gave up trying to make friends. He found it impossible to trust others. He was also quite nervous about the schoolwork. He had only entered the magical world a month while others had been surrounded my magic their whole lives. Harry knew Hagrid had intended to calm Harry's anxiety by telling him that everyone was nervous attending Hogwarts for the first time, but still Harry knew there was so much expected from him, because of his past.

The weather was slowly getting worse. When September the first dawned Harry woke up after only a few minutes sleep, he hadn't had a sufficient nights sleep in a few days, even Tom observed the fact that Harry had trouble sleeping. After checking the weather, he decided he would wear his hoody to King's Cross. It looked as if it would rain later on in the day. Harry ate his breakfast slowly, he had finished packing last night, and because of his nerves, he didn't really have an appetite.

As no one else was up at that time, Tom decided he would eat his breakfast with Harry. They talked for a while, Tom glad to see Harry talking again. When they had finished Harry brought his trunk down from his room trying to make the least noise on the stairs possible so as not to wake the other guests. Harry said farewell to Tom and thanked him for his unwavering hospitality. He got a taxi to King's Cross and arrived an hour early for the train.

He had the ticket, which Hagrid had given him the other day tucked away in his pocket. He made up his mind that he would get a trolley because he had a trunk and also Hedwig and her cage. Hagrid had told Harry how to get on to the platform; it was a simple case of running straight at the very solid wall in between platforms nine and ten.

He pushed his trolley around and faced the barrier. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he'd be in real trouble-leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a run. He ran through the wall and appeared on Platform nine and three quarters. He turned to see a scarlet steam engine.

Harry realizing he was now forty five minutes early, he decided to wait on the platform, before getting on the train. He sat beside his trunk and watched as the platform filled up with students. Steam from the train was now billowing over the platform and students were filling up the compartments quickly. Harry was so tired; he was nearly drifting off to sleep. He stood up choosing to board the train now. On his way he took notice of all the students and their animals. A boy with dreadlocks was showing everybody what Harry believed to be a giant spider. Another round-faced boy was asking a very formidable looking woman where his toad, Trevor, was.

He walked until he neared the end of the train. There he spotted a girl who looked to be having trouble getting her trunk into the carriage. She had what Harry thought was slightly bushy hair which now looked wild as she was struggling with her trunk. He rushed over to assist her and just as she was about to drop her trunk he grabbed it and pushed it into the carriage. “Oh. Thank you.” She said politely. She climbed into the carriage and dragged her trunk into a compartment. Harry managed to carry his luggage on to the train with ease and found an empty compartment. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden he could watch people bustling around on the platform. A large group of red haired people walked by. Two were obviously twins, one was about Harry's age, and there was a small girl and a plump woman who was undoubtedly their mother. “Now listen here you two. I don't want another letter from your Headmaster saying you were up to anything dangerous this year. And do take care of \Ron.” She said worriedly. “Look Ron, you've got something on your nose.” The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose. “Mum- geroff,' He wriggled free.

“Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” said one of the twins while the other roared out laughing. “Shut up” said Ron. “Guess what, mum. Lee Jordan said he saw Harry Potter earlier on, said he noticed him cause of his scar. He said it's like lightening,' said one of the twins with a look of amazement on his face. “Do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?” Harry swallowed. Was this the way everybody was going to treat him, asking him if he remembered anything about the night his parents died? The mother had started talking again; her tone was very stern and full of warning. “I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day of school.” Harry felt a rush of gratitude to the mother. He pulled his hat lower, so it was just above his eyes, which were hidden by his glasses.

A whistle sounded and the boys clambered onto the train. The train began to move and Harry felt a leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to- but it had to be better than what he was leaving. Harry saw the youngest red haired boy walk past the compartment. He glimpsed Harry and then quickened his pace. Harry gazed out the window as buildings rushed by, with the occasional gap where he could view the whole city. He hoped that not everybody treated him like the boy did. Harry felt that he was just as ordinary as everybody else. That boy probably knew more magic than he did. After a while Harry decided he would rather be alone, maybe he'd try and get some sleep. He didn't know how far away Hogwarts was. He put his feet on the seat opposite him and turned so that he was facing the window with his back to the door of the compartment. He slept for a few minutes, during which time the girl who he had helped came to see him, but after seeing him sleeping she left, somewhat sadly.

When Harry awoke he was surprised to find that they had passed through London and that they were now speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. He got up and stretched his legs as he found his muscles had tightened up. He then realised he needed to use the toilet. On his way through the different carriages he spotted some first years, they were easy to recognize as they were the smallest ones on the train. He snatched some of their conversation; they were talking about the different houses. “I think it'd be really cool to be in Ravenclaw.” “No way, Gryffindor.”

Harry again saw the red-haired boy sitting in a compartment with two boys and one girl. The boy gave him a nervous glance and turned to look at another boy who was speaking animatedly in an Irish accent.

Harry sighed and continued his way through the train. He was already sick of being Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Why wasn't anyone giving him a chance? They didn't know anything, none of them did, he thought angrily. When he got to the bathroom he slammed the door, locked it and put his back to it. He tried to calm down, taking deep breaths, but his hands were still balled into fists. When he had finished in the bathroom, he opened the door, to hear a commotion coming from the other end of the train. Wondering what was going on Harry set off in the direction of the disturbance.

As he neared the end of the train he heard voices growing louder. “Let go of me, right NOW.” he heard a girl's voice shout. It didn't sound frightened, it was more bossy. When Harry finally came to the scene, he saw the girl he had helped earlier on. She was being held by the wrist by a thickset boy whose eyes were narrowed in dislike. Harry stepped forward. He didn't want to start a fight; he knew that because of the temper he was in, if he got going he'd probably never stop. “The lunch trolley's coming round soon, so give me your money,' he large boy demanded in a dull stupid voice. “I will not. Now let go of me,” she commanded.

Harry made up his mind that now would be the right time to intervene. “Let her go and walk away from this unharmed,” he ordered. The boy turned around and looked at Harry dumbly. Then a boy walked up from behind him, it was Draco Malfoy. “What does this have anything to do with you? Piss off.”

Harry smiled knowingly. He wanted to rip Malfoy's head off but knew that it would do no good. “Just let her go.” He said again. Malfoy laughed and the other idiot guffawed. Suddenly the boy threw a punch at Harry. Then, once again for Harry, time seemed to slow down. He ducked, and then blocked the boy's other fist as it made its slow progression towards his head. Then time returned to normal. Harry had a death grip on the boy's wrist. He kept the grip tight and ignoring the boy's moans, turned to face Malfoy, whose face both showed bewilderment and fury. “Now, leave.” He let go of the boy who turned and ran, Malfoy remained. “Who are you?” Harry ignored him and walked back to his compartment.

Harry remained in his compartment for a while pondering what had happened. He knew he shouldn't have resorted to violence but he didn't want that girl to get hurt. The door slid open and Harry turned to see the girl again. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me back there.” “No problem,” Harry replied simply. The girl came in, closed the door and sat down opposite Harry. “Why did you do that? You could have been hurt or have gotten into trouble,” she asked in a serious tone. “I don't like people being hurt.” And the girl knew he was telling the truth. ”My name is Hermione Granger.” She said extending her hand. “Harry…..Harry Potter.” He was waiting for her to gawp and then leave. But she didn't. A thoughtful expression appeared on her face and she looked as if she was trying to remember something.

“Oh, yes… I remember your story now.” Her face then dropped as she realized what she just said. “I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean it that way. Its just I don't actually come from a magical background, my parents are dentists you see.” Harry smiled slightly. He knew how sorry she was from her reaction. “It's alright. I honestly didn't know anything about myself up until last month.” And he told her how he had found out about his parents and his past. He didn't mention the Dursley's or anything about his previous life, he never wanted to share that with anyone. Even still, Harry found it quite okay talking to Hermione. He usually stayed quiet around people and while staying at the Leaky Cauldron he hadn't talked to anybody his own age, but Hermione seemed to listen, and he found that they did have a lot to talk about, their studies and so on. After a while Hermione excused herself saying that she wanted to go and get changed and also read a bit and that she'd either come back later or she would see him when they got to Hogwarts.

Harry thought that he might get a few more minutes sleep before he got to Hogwarts. He was exhausted by the day's events, and he didn't think they were that close to Hogwarts. He resumed his position he had been sleeping in before he gone to the bathroom. He stayed like that a few minutes before he heard a knock on the compartment door and it slid open. Harry turned around to see the boy named Ron standing in the doorway. “Hey, my brother said he saw you on your own and told me I should come and see if you're okay. Sorry, he's a prefect and he believes in unification and all that.” He added quickly. “I'm fine,” Harry said. He was still a bit annoyed about the boy's behaviour earlier. “My name's Ron by the way. Ron Weasley.” “I think you already know mine,” Harry joked. He was surprised to see Ron laugh at this. He then became serious, “Do you have really have - you know…” he pointed at Harry's forehead. Harry decided showing Ron his scar wouldn't do any harm. He pulled off his hat and pulled back his fringe.

“So that's where You-Know-Who-?” he began. “Yes” said Harry, “but I can't remember it.”

Ron looked uncomfortable. “You're different than I thought you'd be,” he blurted out. He turned to leave but Harry called him back. “Are all your family wizards?” he asked. Ron smiled and walked back into the compartment and sat down on the opposite seat. “Yes, I think so. I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him. I heard you went to live with Muggles, what were they like?” Harry really didn't want to talk about this so he tried to reverse the question. “They're not great. How about you, I saw your brothers earlier on. It must be cool having three brothers and a sister.”

“Five” said Ron with a gloomy expression on his face. “My other two brothers have finished Hogwarts. Charlie works with dragons in Romania and Bill works for Gringotts in Egypt. I'm the sixth son to go to Hogwarts. And I've got a lot to live up to. Charlie was captain of the Quidditch team and Bill was Head Boy. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George, the twins, they mess around a lot, but they still get good grades and everyone thinks they're really funny. Also you never get anything new living with a large family. I've got Charlie's old wand, Bill's old robes and Percy's old rat.”

They spent the next few minutes talking about Scabbers, Ron's rat, who stayed asleep the whole time.

Harry thought Ron was very genuine and honest. He did spend a lot of time complaining about his family, which slightly irked Harry considering he had no family, but he listened nonetheless. Harry had to admit that being with Ron was good fun. When the lunch trolley rolled around Harry bought some of everything. There were all different kinds of sweets Harry had never heard of. Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life.

“Here, have a pasty. And please tell me what these are,” said Harry holding up the box of Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those. When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour. They have all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint but then there's spinach, liver and tripe.” They had a great time eating the Every-Flavour Beans, each daring the other to eat strange coloured ones. Harry was amazed by the Chocolate Frogs which were able to move because of a spell put on them.

The compartment door slid open. Harry turned to see Malfoy framed in the doorway. He was now flanked by two thickset boys. Malfoy wasn't looking at Harry, he was glaring at Ron. “Is it true what they're saying on the train? That Harry Potter's in this compartment.” He turned his head and looked at Harry. His face contorted in fury. “You!” Harry didn't move. “Yep, me,” he replied. Harry then knew that Malfoy wasn't expecting the great Harry Potter to be quite ordinary or to stand up for people who were being pushed around. He watched as Malfoy was thinking, he could almost see Malfoy take in the situation. He could see in Malfoy's features that he had come to a conclusion of what to do. Harry had a feeling of what he was going to do.

Malfoy visibly calmed down. A grin returned to his features. “Well, let's start over.” Harry knew that Malfoy merely wanted Harry as a friend because he was The Boy Who Lived. When he didn't answer Malfoy turned to Ron. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford.”

“You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort.” Malfoy said this with his chin in the air in what he thought was a superior manner. Ron stood up. His face was red with embarrassment. He took a step toward Malfoy while Malfoy's cronies stepped into the compartment. One of them raised his fists and aimed a punch at Ron's head. Harry, having no time, pushed Ron out of the way taking Ron's place in the target range. He felt a fist connect with the side of his head, and then he blacked out.

When he came to, it was getting dark. He was lying on one of the seats; obviously someone pushed him onto it. He turned on his side and sat up. His head was pounding. He recognised Ron's gangly frame standing over him. “You okay? That was some hit. I can't believe you did that for me.” The smile was obvious in his voice. “Thanks.”

“No problem” Harry said, his head in his hands. His glasses were broke from the impact so his vision was blurred. “I can't believe you were in two fights today, already,” came a scolding voice from the door. “You could get in serious trouble.” Harry was holding his glasses in his hands. He felt them being grabbed away from him. “Oculus Reparo” he heard Hermione's voice from the corner. She pushed the glasses back into his hands. As she walked back out the door Harry said “Thanks.”

She stopped. “You'd better hurry up and change into your robes, I've just been up with the driver and he says that were nearly there.” Ron obviously didn't like Hermione's view of the situation. “Would you mind leaving while we change?” Ron scowled.

“Alright, - I only came in her because people were behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. “God, she's so bossy.” Harry thought for a few minutes. “She just cares,” he whispered finally. “Where's my other shoe? I better go back to my compartment and get my stuff. Oh sorry Harry. What did you say?” Ron asked.

“Nothing,” he replied.

End Chapter

Well, there's another chapter gone. I have to go back to school tomorrow so I don't know when the next update will be. Anyway hope you all enjoyed this chapter and also there is no way in Middle-Earth that Harry is going to Slytherin. Then I might as well put Malfoy in Hufflepuff. Which I refuse to do! I'm thinking of making the friendship thing less immediate than in the book. Making Harry a tad bit more withdrawn from the other students, only for a few days or so. I don't know. What do you think?

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Eight

Ron went back to his compartment to get changed and also to gather his things. Harry meanwhile was getting into his own black school robes. He packed away his other clothes and also put his hat in his trunk. He didn't need it anymore and he more than likely wasn't allowed to wear one in school. After packing he realized just how nervous he was. He decided to take a trip to the bathroom; he wanted to see whether Malfoy's `bodyguard' had done any visible damage. He was relieved to find that there was a very small amount of bruising, which you had to be close to see.

When he went back to his carriage he saw that a lot of people were waiting anxiously at the door of their compartments. A voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately.” Soon after, the train had started to slow down. Harry lined up in the corridor with the rest of the students. The train finally came to a halt. The students pushed to the door and out on to the tiny platform. Harry shivered in the cold air. He had grown used to the warmth of the train and there was a very cool breeze blowing in from the west.

Harry hadn't realized how dark it was. He looked up and was amazed at the amount of stars that were out. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Harry heard a familiar voice. “Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?” Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. “I'm fine.” Harry shouted over the noise of the students. Hagrid gave Harry a wide grin. “See told ye, ye'd be fine. C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step now.”

They followed Hagrid down a steep narrow and what Harry thought was a dangerous path. The boy who had been looking for his toad earlier on the platform was now sniffing and Harry could hear slight murmurs and whimpering that sounded like “Gran is going to kill me. Poor Trevor all on his own. What am I going to do?” The narrow path they were struggling to walk on suddenly opened on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its many windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Many of the students were expressing their feelings of amazement at the sight of Hogwarts. “Hey now, no cursing.” Hagrid said, but Harry knew Hagrid was pleased that Hogwarts could have the same impression every time.

A fleet of boats were waiting at the shore for them. Harry climbed into one followed by the boy who had lost his toad. Hermione Granger then climbed in. She looked very apprehensive about the boat, even though the lake was quite calm. Harry smiled reassuringly at her. She looked slightly happier but her expression grew darker when Ron got into the boat. “Forward,” Hagrid commanded. The boats didn't rock very much in the water and were quite steady. Suddenly Harry saw a toad beside his foot. He scooped him up. “Here, is this Trevor?” The boy squealed in delight. He took the slimy toad from Harry. “Thanks. My name's Neville. Longbottom. You're Harry Potter. I heard people talking about you on the train.” Harry looked away into the lake. He couldn't see anything beyond the blackness. “Heads down!” yelled Hagrid. They all obliged, lowering themselves in the boat as the boat went through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face.

They followed a dark passageway until they reached an underground harbour. Neville and Ron were first out of the boat. Harry clambered out onto the rocks and pebbles. As Hermione was getting out she slipped and Harry caught her just before she hit the ground. “Sorry. Thanks,” she stammered. Her cheeks were tinged with pink from embarrassment. After helping her to her feet Harry followed the rest of the students who were in turn following \Hagrid. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Harry raised an enormous fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

When the door opened Harry was surprised to see the witch who had been with Dumbledore at the Dursley's. “Here ye go, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid. “Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” She said and without anymore comment she walked in through the double doors. He heard gasps from the other first years as they entered the enormous Entrance Hall, you could have fitted the whole of the Dursley's house in it. There was a magnificent marble staircase facing the door and the floor had designs on it which reminded Harry of Gringotts. Harry felt like his insides were eating themselves as he followed McGonagall, who led them into a chamber that was just off the main hall. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said scrutinizing them.

She then explained the house system and that there were four houses in which they could be sorted. She told them she was Head of Gryffindor and what was expected of them at the school. “I'll give you a few moments so you can smarten yourselves up.” Her eyes roamed the incredibly nervous group, lingering on Neville's cloak which was buttoned under his left ear, Ron's smudged nose and then she looked at Harry who was nervously trying to flatten his hair. She smiled and laughed to herself as she watched his futile attempt. “It never stays down,” Harry said to her quite embarrassed. “Nor did your father's.” she whispered. She then left the chamber.

Harry looked around at the other students. Some were obviously trying to calm themselves down. Hermione Granger was reciting some spells as some other girls whispered excitedly to each other. Ron was standing with a group of boys he had sat with on the train. Malfoy was looking a bit paler than usual but a smug look came across his face as his eyes met with Harry's. He strolled over with his cronies and stopped mere inches before Harry. “Your head any better,” he remarked. Harry was saved from answering by the convenient return of Professor McGonagall.

“Now, form a line,” she told them, “and follow me.” She led them through the Entrance Hall and they entered the Great Hall through a pair of double doors.

Harry gasped in amazement. He had never seen anything so wonderful. The Great Hall was enormous, about three times as big as the Entrance Hall. Harry examined the roof, making sure there was one as it was enchanted to look like the night sky, its stars sparkling making the Hall all the more splendid. Thousand of candles floated over four enormous wooden tables, illuminating the anxious faces of the students. Harry could hear the murmuring of the other students as they followed Professor McGonagall between two of the giant tables and approached the last table which faced the students. The remaining table was filled with teachers and at the centre of the table; sitting on a high-backed golden chair was Dumbledore. He winked at Harry who smiled back. He was still very nervous, and was apprehensive of making a lot of movement fearing he would throw up.

Professor McGonagall made them face the students with the teachers behind them. She then placed a stool before them and then resting on the stool, a very tattered hat, which looked very out of place among the décor of the Great Hall. Everyone in the hall was staring expectedly at the hat, so Harry followed them. The hat lay silent for a few moments before a rip near the brim of it opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing.

When it finished its song, which told the abilities of each house and what kind of students were placed in each house, the whole hall applauded. After the clapping had subsided Professor McGonagall took out a long roll of parchment. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.”

“Hannah Abbott!” A girl standing behind Harry with blonde pigtails staggered out of the group and took her place on the stool. Everyone waited and after a moment the hat shouted out to the hall. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

She took the hat off quickly and ran to one of the tables, obviously relieved to be out of the spotlight. The list seemed to be endless and Harry's legs felt like jelly. He wondered what would happen if he wasn't sorted and how embarrassing it would be to have to return to the muggle world. He was called back to his senses when he heard the name. “Hermione Granger!” he turned to see Hermione looking very nervous and whispering words of calm to herself. When she took her place on the stool, Harry found that he was extremely anxious to find where Hermione was housed. He secretly hoped that she would be put in the same house as he was, he didn't know why though; he just felt that they had a lot in common. “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat announced.

Hermione took off the hat and walked over to the Gryffindor table. She looked extremely happy and Harry knew that she was hoping for Gryffindor, she had probably heard that Dumbledore had been in that house. More names followed Hermione's. Neville Longbottom was placed in Gryffindor and Malfoy was put in Slytherin. Harry was starting to feel sick now. He tried to take deep breaths but soon realized that there was not enough air in the world to relax him right now.

Then at last, the name that certain people were waiting to hear was shouted out by Professor McGonagall. “Harry Potter!”

As Harry stepped forward he heard the loud whispers and gawping faces.

“Potter, did she say?”

“The Harry Potter?”

He put the hat on and all sound was cut off. He couldn't see the Great Hall anymore. Then he heard a voice in the back of his head. “My, my. It has been a very long time since I've seen a head like yours. Difficult indeed. But brilliant. There is a lot here. And a desire for knowledge, like a craving. Plenty of courage, but where to put you. Hmm….maybe Slytherin.” “NO, not Slytherin,” thought Harry thinking of Malfoy. “Really, you could go so far. No? Well then, better be GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry relaxed as he heard the last word being shouted. He pulled off the hat and replaced it on the stool. He didn't notice that he was getting the biggest cheer of the night. A boy stood up as Harry neared the table. Harry recognized him as a Weasley. He shook his hand vigorously “Welcome, Welcome to Gryffindor.” Harry was quite embarrassed, especially when the twins started dancing on the table, chanting, “We got Potter! We got Potter.” The shouts lasted a while before McGonagall set off a noise from her wand that sounded like a gunshot and one of the twins fell off the table. When the laughing had died down, the list of names continued. Harry spotted Hermione just down the table from him. He smiled and gave a small wave. She smiled back and Harry wondered vaguely why the sick feeling in his stomach had not gone by now.

When Ron was called up, he looked very pale. But as soon as he had placed the hat on his head the hat screamed “GRYFFINDOR.” Ron joined Harry at the table and his brothers congratulated him. When “Blaise Zabini “was sorted, Dumbledore stood up. Silence fell on the students and Harry felt just how powerful Dumbledore was and how people like Hagrid called him the greatest wizard in the world.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. A few announcements, if you please.”

“First years should note that the Forbidden Forest is…well…forbidden,” he said laughing at his own choice of words. A few others laughed also.

“I have also been asked by our caretaker, Mr. Filch, to remind you that no magic is allowed in the corridors.”

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a painful death.” He then sat down and Harry and a few others laughed.

“He isn't serious, is he?” he asked the Prefect. “Yes, he is. I would have thought he'd inform the prefects why students are forbidden from an area of the school,” he replied with a thoughtful expression. “Hey Percy, pass the potatoes,” said Ron from the other side of the table. Harry wondered what on earth was wrong with Ron and when he turned to look at him his mouth fell open. The table which had held empty golden plates and goblets was now groaning under more food than Harry had ever seen. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, bacon and steak. The most delicious roast potatoes lay beside bowls of gravy, carrots and ketchup.

Ron was piling his plate with mountains of food while Percy the prefect looked on with disappointment. “Ronald! Didn't our mother teach you to eat properly?” Ron gave him dirty look and Percy sighed.

Harry had never exactly starved but the Dursley's had never let him eat when they were having a nice dinner and he probably had never been adequately fed besides his stay at the Leaky Cauldron. He now felt hungry and started to take some potatoes and roast beef, unlike Ron, who had taken nearly everything there was to offer. Harry didn't eat much compared to everybody else at the table, he filled quite fast because he wasn't used to so much food. Ron had an eating contest with the Irish boy, Seamus, sitting beside him. Everybody laughed when they were finished and they nearly collapsed off their seats. They talked about Quidditch for a while then they moved on to families, Harry had stayed quiet since he had sat down and was prepared not to talk. “Well I'm half and half. My mam's a witch and me dad's a muggle. She didn't confess till after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him,” Seamus was saying. Everybody laughed at this. Then Neville started his story.

“Well, I live with my Gran. Nobody thought I was a wizard cause nothing happened when I was younger, like no accidental magic. My great uncle Algie wouldn't believe or accept that I was Muggle. He kept trying to catch me off my guard. He pushed me off Blackpool pier and I nearly drowned. Then when I was eight my great uncle Algie came round for tea. He was dangling me out the window. When my great aunt Enid offered him custard cream he accidentally dropped me and I bounced down the garden and onto the road. They were all really happy. Gran was crying and when I got in here my great uncle Algie bought me Trevor.”

Ron told them his first accidental magic with help from his brothers. Then a girl, Lavender Brown, told her story. In the middle of the story Harry heard a very slight buzzing in the back of his head. He spun around in his chair and looked at the High Table. The man named Severus was talking to man in a purple turban. Harry got a burst of pain through his scar; he clapped his hand over his scar. The pain went as quickly as it had come. Fortunately nobody noticed. Percy was talking to another prefect and Ron was looking spellbound by Lavender's story. “Sorry, erm…Percy is it? Who is that teacher? What does he teach?” Percy turned back around and followed Harry's gaze. “Oh, talking to Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, well that's Professor Snape. He's the Potions teacher. But everyone knows he wants the Dark Arts position,” he said in a whisper, afraid that his voice might carry.

Then the food disappeared to be replaced by dessert. Blocks of ice-cream in every flavor, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle and jelly. Ron immediately started filling his plate again while Harry took some treacle tart. All of a sudden, Neville let out a yelp of surprise. A transparent head could be seen in the middle of a large decorated cake. Harry then realized that it must be a ghost. It slowly rose from the table and then floated over to hover beside Percy. “Hello, Sir Nicholas,” said Percy pompously. “Hello Hello. Ah, I see we have some new students. I hope you're going to help Gryffindor win the House Cup this year. Its been so long, Slytherin have won it six years in a row. I…”

“I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “You're Nearly Headless Nick.” The ghost looked quite affronted. “I prefer Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, if you plea…” “Nearly headless, how can you be nearly headless?” asked a confused Seamus. “Like this,” he said thoroughly annoyed. He seized his left ear and tugged it. His whole head swung off his neck and fell on to his shoulder. It looked like a half decapitation. Everyone at the table was stunned into silence. Sir Nicholas looked pleased at their reactions. “Well, I must be off. There is a meeting of ghosts and I do not wish to be late.”

“So does anyone here like football?” asked a boy who's name was Dean Thomas. “What? That game where there's only one ball and you have to put it in the other teams net. No way! Its Quidditch for me. Come on! They don't even use broomsticks!” Ron exclaimed. Dean then went on to explain how valuable football was to Muggles. Then Seamus began to describe Gaelic and Hurling. Nearing the end of the night, Dumbledore stood up and announced that it was time for bed. Percy seemed to be in his element as he gathered the first years around him and ordered them to follow him.

Harry legs felt like lead as they went up the marble staircase and passed through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. Harry noticed that the colorful portraits that hung either side of the corridors were moving. Talking and whispering to each other. Some even pointed down at them. Suddenly Harry heard the noise in his head again, much louder and for some reason he ducked and a walking stick flew over his head. “Peeves!” Percy shouted. “A poltergeist,” he explained to the first years. A little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth which was now curved in a smile appeared. He then threw another walking stick which hit Neville on the head.

“Away Peeves. Or the Baron will know about this,” snapped Percy. Peeves cackled, swooped over them and got ready to throw the remaining sticks at them. Harry's wand was in his pocket. He didn't think he'd have enough time to get to it. He pulled back his robe and thought of a spell he practiced from More Magical Methods. “Accio Wand.” He didn't say the words but he focused extremely hard on them, and before he knew it his wand had flown into his hand. He pointed his wand at the falling sticks and shouted “Impedimenta!” The sticks slowed down and everyone moved out of the way. “Well done, Harry. But in the future, NO magic in the corridors,” Percy said and continued down the corridor.

Everyone thanked him appreciatively. Obviously nobody had noticed him using wandless magic. Harry grinned, feeling very proud of himself. The way the book had put it, not many wizard could do wandless magic and most of those who could were much older than he was.

At the end of the corridor was a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink dress. “Password?” she boomed. “Caput Draconis.” She swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall which they all climbed through. “Welcome to the Gryffindor common room,” Percy said. He showed them the different staircases- one to the boy's dormitories and the other to the girl's dormitories. The common room looked very cosy. It was a round room full of squashy armchairs. There was a roaring fire which really added to the atmosphere. The main colors of the room were red and gold. They made their way to their rooms. It was in one of the towers as the spiral staircase suggested. The room contained five four poster beds, which their trunks now rested against. The others got changed into their pajamas and into their beds. Harry got changed but then put on his robe and went back down to the common room. He was tired but didn't feel like sleeping. The common room was empty and silent. He sat down on the couch facing the fire. His mind was on the wandless magic he had just performed.

He thought of all the advantages this gave him. He actually thought about a lot of things. Hogwarts was so different from the life he was used to. It wasn't just the food, it was the atmosphere and also Harry, though still very nervous, felt as if he fitted in. He was there only a few hours but he felt somehow accepted by the castle. He was now lying down on the couch staring absently into the fire. He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see Hermione Granger standing in the doorway. She was dressed in a purple nightdress and looked quite cold. She was startled to see Harry and her cheeks went slightly red. “You should go to bed; a girl told me that the first day is always hard. So you'll need your sleep,” she said quietly. “Er, thanks,” Harry replied not knowing really what to say. She turned around and returned to her dormitory.

Harry turned back around and soon fell asleep on the couch.

Sorry this took so long. I've been swamped by school. Anyway, hope you like the chapter. It's very similar to the one in PS, I know, but I'll try and change the other chapters without ruining the story. Also my internet keeps breaking so I don't know when next update should be. Enjoy and review.

Take care,

Radagast.

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Chapter Nine

When Harry awoke the next morning the common room was brightly lit as the sun streamed in through the high windows. He found that he had slept quite well even though he had spent the night on the couch. He put it down to the fact that he had become used to believing the Dursley's couch had been comfortable. The fire had died out but there were still the remains of the red embers. Harry heard footsteps coming from somewhere over the other side of the room so he sat up quite suddenly. Professor McGonagall had just finished pinning something to the large notice board. She started when she saw Harry and placed her hand over her heart in an attempt to calm down.

“Mr. Potter! Merlin, you gave me quite a fright. What on earth are you doing down here at this time of the morning? Did you s…sleep here? She asked astonished. Harry didn't find what was so unusual about sleeping on a couch. “Yes Professor.”

“Well I assure you that the bed in your room is quite adequate, comfort-wise. In anyway, it offers more than a couch.” She paused for a few moments and than made her way to the portrait hole. “Good Morning, Mr. Potter.” “Morning Professor,” Harry replied.

An hour later, Harry was dressed in his school robes and was ready to go down for breakfast. More students had arrived down in the common room preparing for the day. Harry decided he would head down to breakfast and tried to remember where Percy had walked them the night before. The weather looked quite cool outside the castle even though the sun was dazzling. On his way through one of the corridors Harry spotted Hagrid down in the grounds. He was shielding his eyes from the sun and Harry couldn't really see his face, he thought it looked a bit grim though.

Harry finally made his way to the marble staircase. He walked down it and in through the great double doors to the Great Hall. He still thought it looked breathtaking, with the sun illuminating it, it looked very heavenly. There was no one else in the hall and Harry wondered how on earth he was going to be served breakfast. His questions were answered as soon as he sat down on the bench. The golden plates filled with sausages, rashers, hash browns, eggs, tomatoes, toast and a numerous amounts of different cereals. Harry only had a small bowl of cereal; he was still quite full from yesterday. More students arrived down into the Great Hall. The Weasley twins spotted Harry on his own and made a beeline for him. “Harry, we haven't introduced our selves. My name is Fred and this is George,” he said mannerly with a wave of his hand at his brother. Harry outstretched his hand and both of them shook it. They then sat down either side of him.

“You know our brother, right?” Harry nodded his head and explained to them about meeting him in the train. “Well Harry, incase Ron has told you already, if you need anything,” said Fred.

“And we mean anything,” started George. “You just come to us,” they both finished simultaneously. “Thanks,” Harry said uneasily. He wasn't used to being offered anything by anyone. Harry sat there listening to the twins talk about the new school year. Ron arrived down with Seamus, Dean and Neville. Harry was astonished to see Ron filling up his plate again. “Didn't you have enough yesterday?” Harry said, half laughing. The others at the table joined Harry in laughing. “Well that was yesterday. And you mate,” he said defensively, pointing his fork at Harry “need to start eating more. If my mum saw you, she'd have a fit.”

Professor McGonagall was handing out timetables along the Gryffindor table. Harry looked at his as soon as she handed it to him. “Transfiguration, Charms and History of Magic.,” he read aloud.

“Ooh, tough start,” said a girl with blond hair sitting down beside Fred. Harry got up to leave. He then saw Hermione at the other end of the table. She was sitting beside some other girls; Harry didn't want to disturb her so he left for the Entrance Hall.

He found a desk in back row of the Transfiguration room. He wanted to remain hidden as much as he could. He had already heard whispers following him all through the corridors. He enjoyed the silence of the Transfiguration room until other students began to arrive. Ron and Neville sat either side of him. Hermione went straight to the top of the class, without a backwards glance at him. Soon after, Professor McGonagall entered the room. “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she said strictly. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

Harry was quite nervous about performing magic with a teacher watching him. He felt he had to prove himself in the eyes of someone who was experienced in the world of magic. They began the class taking complicated notes and by the end most of the class seemed to lose all enthusiasm. Harry found that he understood the theories quite well. Professor McGonagall then set them the task of turning a match into a needle. Many of the students couldn't concentrate hard enough. Some actually were tempted to throw their matches across the room but McGonagall was roaming around the room watching and making suggestions. Ron then annoyed Harry by talking to Neville; in the end Harry just switched seats with Neville so they could continue their pointless conversation. Harry then asked Ron to pass down the match they had been practicing on. Ron just pushed it down, not really taking notice of Harry; he was too engrossed in his conversation.

Harry focused all his concentration on the match and pictured the transformation clearly in his head. Then he watched amazed as the match slowly became thinner and silver started to spread through it until it became an unmistakable silver needle. Of course no one had noticed Harry's achievement. Harry didn't want Ron to learn of his success, fearing he would start acting like he had yesterday on the train, so he quickly tried to hide it in his pocket. Someone poked him on the shoulder and he spun in his chair to find himself face to face with McGonagall. She held her palm out expectantly and Harry pulled out the needle and placed it in her hand. She examined it, then leaned forward and whispered “Excellent, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor.” No one else had heard what she said, and she then transfigured the needle back into a match and placed it on his desk. “You obviously have your father's transfiguration skills.”

Harry was looking forward to Charms. Most of the students were already tired out from their first go at Transfiguration. When they entered the Charms classroom Harry once again took a seat at the back of the class. Ron and Neville were still talking so they sat beside each other, while Seamus took the spare seat beside Harry. Professor Flitwick was the Charms teacher. He was a tiny little wizard, and when he entered the classroom he walked up to the front and disappeared behind his desk. They heard some sort of struggle and watched as Professor Flitwick made a pile of books, climbed them and appeared over the top of the desk. Seamus tried to hide a snort of laughter. “Welcome to Charms. Charms… is a difficult branch of magic but is also very important in all areas of life. We will begin the term by taking some notes on the theory of Charms and should progress to performing them sometime next month.” And so it began and all that could be heard from thereon in was the scratching of their quills on the rough parchment.

History of Magic was a huge disappointment for Harry. He had loved history in his old primary school and was excited to begin learning about the ancient wizards. Harry blamed the disappointment on one thing, Professor Binns. He was a ghost, the only teacher ghost of Hogwarts. The story went that he had been very old indeed when one day he had fell asleep in front of the staff-room fire and next morning when he got up to teach he had left his body behind him. Binns voice had a drone that made any listener fall asleep. After about ten minutes of taking down notes most of the class gave up. Harry continued, as did Hermione, but nearing the end of class, Harry gave in and told himself that he would rather study History of Magic alone in the library. He would have stuck to his resolution had he not seen the sad disappointed look Hermione gave him. He instantly felt floored by guilt. He didn't know why that one look had had such effect on him. He continued scribbling down notes until the end of class.

Dinner was a very quiet affair for Harry. He was again the first one there. Ron was doing something with Seamus, Neville and Dean, Harry had a feeling it also had something to do with Fred and George. When Harry was finished his dinner he saw Hermione entering the Great Hall. Harry would have liked to talk to her but she had a book out and was reading it as she sat down at the table. Not wanting to disturb her, Harry made his way back to the common room to begin his homework. He actually had quite a lot for the first day and was also feeling quite tired.

When he had finished his homework he realized it was quite late and that all the students had gone to bed. He climbed into his four poster bed feeling exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

I know the chapter is ridiculously short but I wanted to have something out this week. Also this is just a chapter to tell you about the first day. Anyway I do have another chapter which will probably be uploaded on Sunday. Hope you like anyway. Sorry for the length and also do you think Harry should study History of magic by himself?

Take care,

Radagast.

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Chapter Ten

The next week flew by for Harry. He had more classes such as Herbology, which was the study of magical plants. They had this class three times a week out in the greenhouses behind the castle. It was taught by a dumpy little witch, whose name was Professor Sprout. There, they learnt how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found what they were used for. One of the worst things about Herbology was that they left the greenhouses after each class smelling like manure, Professor Sprout's favored fertilizer.

They also studied Astronomy every Wednesday. This was a most unusual class as they studied the night skies which meant that they had class at midnight. There they learnt the names of the different stars and followed the movements of the planets.

The class everyone had been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts. But Professor Quirrell was a bit of a joke and a terrible teacher. The classroom smelled strongly of garlic so some people found it hard to breathe. A rumor, more than likely started by the Weasley twins, said that he kept the garlic to ward off a vampire he had met in Romania. He spoke with a terrible stutter and stammered an awful lot and this added to the fact he could barely keep his class under control as everyone lost heart half-way through and started talking to their neighbors.

Though Harry pitied Professor Quirrell, he couldn't help but feel there was something very odd about him. He kept shooting Harry furtive looks and when Harry would catch him looking at him he would immediately turn pick and start talking about the weather.

Harry spent most of his time on his own. Ron took to hanging around with Seamus, Neville and Dean. Harry also hung around with them, but as he came from a muggle background he didn't know a lot of what they talked about. He ate dinner with the other Gryffindors and liked listening to them talking about their classes but as he was always up first, he mostly ate breakfast on his own. After classes, he made his way to the library where he would do his homework and other studies. He had taken to doing his own research on all of his subjects. He gave a lot of his time to Potions. He hadn't had a class yet and he had got a strong feeling that Professor Snape disliked him from the conversation he had `overheard' at the Leaky Cauldron. But the reason still remained unknown, at least to Harry. Also, he had heard that Snape could give a lot of grief, especially to Gryffindor students. Fred and George had told him that he always favored Slytherin considering he was their Head of House.

There was a table in the back of the library which Harry preferred as he was hard to see tucked away in the corner. Harry noticed that he wasn't the only first year who spent a lot of time in the library. He also observed that Hermione was often in the library too. He had got the feeling that she didn't like him, but he had no idea why. He thought they had got on quite well while on the train but now, now she ignored him a lot. He knew she didn't know that he was in the library all the times she was there but the most he ever got from her was a slight smile. Harry sometimes watched her work from his small table in the corner. He then felt weird and wondered why he was watching her unknowingly. He wished he could just go over and ask could he sit with her but for some strange reason he couldn't.

On Friday morning Harry awoke earlier than he usually did, which was quite early. As he was climbing out of his bed he spotted the sun rising from over the tinged horizon. He stopped dead in his tracks and sat their perched on the side of his bed, watching the sun rise, floored by its beauty. All his worries seemed forgotten in those few minutes but as soon as the sun had taken a more solid place among the white clouds and he had moved to change into his school robes, his fears of his first Potions class with Snape, returned to him. He walked silently down the spiral stone staircase and took his preferred seat in front of the fireplace. The common room was often chilly during the morning hours. Summer was over and a wide window was left opened to allow private owls deliver messages directly to students, so there was a slight breeze which the dying fire couldn't yield.

After Harry had comfortably taken his seat he once again opened his school bag and removed his Potions book. He had been so apprehensive during the last week that he had almost finished the book but most Potions mainly consisted of practical activity. He read until he could hear other students getting ready, then he made his way down to the Great Hall for another lonely breakfast.

Later Ron joined Harry looking very downcast; obviously Fred and George had told him about how bad Snape could be. “He's going to hate me. He despises Fred and George and he probably already guessed that we're brothers,” he moaned. After they had finished they made their way to Snape's classroom, which was a deep dark dungeon. They lined up outside the door and only then that Harry realized they had this class with the Slytherins. Malfoy was standing there in the middle of a group of Slytherins bragging about the fact that Snape was a friend of his father's.

Harry hadn't heard much of Malfoy since the first night at Hogwarts. He glared at the smug look that Malfoy now sported at the sight of him standing there on his own, Ron was off again talking to Seamus and a group of girls who were all laughing in what Harry believed a very false manner. Malfoy swaggered over to him. “Crabbe, Goyle. Come. Now!” he motioned his hand as if he was setting a dog on someone. Harry grabbed his wand, preparing himself for some sort of attack.

“Five points from Gryffindor. No fighting or magic in the corridors,” came a voice from the door. Everyone spun around to see Snape, leering at Harry. They all traipsed into the dungeon, and took their seats at desks fitted for two people. Seamus went with Dean and Harry went with Ron at the very back of the class, he didn't want Snape to have a full view of him. Neville looked sullen as he he approached the front where the only free seat was beside Hermione. Snape slammed the door as he made his way swiftly to the front of the class, his cloak billowing out behind him.

Snape stood silently at the head of the class and seemed to take in their appearance as his eyes roamed the students. He stopped at Harry and kept his gaze on him for a few moments, looking him directly in the eye. In that moment Harry felt naked, that his thoughts were open for examination. He tried to fight off the feeling and then lowered his eyes from Snape's gaze.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,” he began, speaking in barely more than a whisper. He continued to tell them the options open to them from potion making. Harry couldn't help but stare at Snape. His eyes were cold as he spoke. They looked to be full of malice but also ignorance. He occasionally glanced at Harry throughout his speech who every time felt he was being searched. Ron had started to pick at a dent in the table while Seamus was staring at a spot over Snape's shoulder, clearly not interested in what he had to say.

Harry heard the creak of the door being opened behind him but didn't look around. Suddenly Harry felt a pain pressing down on the back of his head. The warning pain. He didn't recognize the pain in his scar, which if he had he probably would have taken a bit more caution.

He spun around, his hand on the back of his head, and was shocked to see Professor Quirrell with a look of disgust on his face and also to see his face contorted with ferocity while he looked at Harry. Then the face he was wearing suddenly vanished leaving the normal Professor Quirrell. Harry stared in astonishment wondering whether it was a trick of the light or was he going insane. No one else seemed to have noticed this, as they were all acting normally. Quirrell averted his gaze from Harry and strode up to Professor Snape. “What do you want?” he asked, obviously annoyed by the intrusion. Quirrell asked for some ingredients and left the classroom, not even sparing Harry, who was still staring at him in surprise, a glance.

Harry was still wondering about Quirrell when he heard his name being called. “Potter!” Snape called suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Harry thought for a moment. “Eh…the Draught of Living Peace…sir,” he replied hesitantly. Snape looked a bit taken aback, but quickly resumed his questioning. “Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar? Ron looked quite stumped at the questions himself but Harry was silently congratulating himself at deciding to study a bit about Potions before entering Snape's domain. “The stomach of a goat…sir,” he answered feeling a lot more certain.

Snape walked down to where Harry was sitting, he was obviously under the impression that Harry was reading this from the text book. He looked infuriated when he realized that Harry didn't have anything removed from his bag. He then looked at Ron with a look of disdain. “Well, I think we better move you, so Mr. Weasley can't continue to give you answers, Potter!” Harry noted how he spat the name. “What! You think I gave him the answers?” Ron exclaimed, half-laughing.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor. Mr. Longbottom, switch places with Potter. I'll obviously have to keep a better eye on him,” Snape sneered. Harry could see Malfoy and his cronies laughing. He didn't argue, he was thoroughly annoyed at Snape's behavior but he didn't want to get in any more trouble. Ron had come to the same conclusion. Neville took his seat gratefully next to Ron while Harry made his way to the front of the class and took the seat beside Hermione. She avoided looking at him and from then on Harry was extremely upset by the knowledge that Hermione probably believed Snape. They spent the rest of the class writing down notes or listening to Snape making snide remarks to the Gryffindors. Harry stormed out of the class and made his way back up to the Entrance Hall.

He was in such a terrible mood he didn't notice the gigantic form of Hagrid and walked smack into him, which sent Harry flying. After picking himself up off the ground, he apologized. “No problem `arry,” he said chuckling. “Ye wanna come down ter my place for some tea? Tell me all bout yer first week.” Harry thought for a moment, “Okay. I'll be over later.”

So later that evening Harry climbed out of the portrait hole and made his way down to Hagrid' s hut. Harry was still in a temper as he made his way across the grounds. Hagrid's hut was located just on the border of the Forbidden Forest. He knocked on the wooden door and heard a scratching noise coming from inside. “Back Fang, get back,” he heard Hagrid order. Then the door opened and Harry saw Hagrid holding a huge black boarhound from the collar. Harry made his way into Hagrid's house. There was only one room inside and ham and pheasants hung limply from the roof. A kettle hissed over the fire and a bed stood in the corner. Fang settled in the corner and Harry took a seat at the table which stood beside the open fire. Harry placed a plate of cakes on the table. He then removed the kettle from the licking flames and poured the hot water into two enormous mugs. Harry talked to Hagrid about his first week and how his classes were going “Well, `arry, from what the professors `ave been sayin' yer `ave some talent,” Hagrid said, a wide smile on his face. He continued when he saw Harry go red with embarrassment. “Lot like yer parents. And this from the boy who didn't tink tat he was good enough,” Hagrid exclaimed chuckling to himself. “I bet Professor Snape didn't say that,” Harry said, his expression darkening. “He really seems to hate me.”

“Rubbish, sure why should he?” said Hagrid. Harry thought for a moment that Harry was trying to brush off the subject. “But, he moved me, and he called me a liar!” Harry nearly shouted. He was now pacing Hagrid's hut. He stopped when he realized what he was doing; he never usually shared his emotions or even let anybody know what he was feeling. “I'm sorry Hagrid. This is my problem and all I'm doing is disturbing you,” he said defeated, and made his way towards the door. Hagrid stopped him. `Harry, sharin' yer emotions is what people do,” explaining it to Harry as if he was a child. Harry turned around and stared at the burning fire. Then he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I'm not used to this Hagrid. It's so hard.” Hagrid stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, “It gets easier `arry. Ye'll soon find some'un ye'll be able te talk to. Bout nearly anything. Its them Dursleys who ave ye tinkin like this,” he said, his voice turning to an angry growl.

Harry sat back down in the chair, his shoulders slumped. He gave Hagrid a tired smile. He still felt pretty miserable but he managed to say “Thanks, Hagrid.” Hagrid told him not to worry about it. He turned to make more tea and Harry spotted a newspaper on the table. He picked it up and read the headline GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST. He then read the article that followed.

“Hey, Hagrid! That Gringotts break in happened on my birthday! It might have happened while we were there.” Hagrid grunted and said Harry should be getting back up to the school as it was getting late. There was no doubt that he was avoiding Harry's statement. Harry decided he would leave. He made his way silently back to the castle. Darkness had taken its place over the castle while stars shone in the sky and the moon lit up the edges of the resisting clouds.

The Gringotts break in was going through Harry's head. Could it be that the package Hagrid had retrieved from the vault was what the thief had been looking for? Hagrid did seem to become very evasive when asked about the package and the break-in. He wondered where the package was now.

Harry met a crowd of people in the Gryffindor common room. They were all bustling around the notice board. He fought his way to the front and read the notice Flying Lessons- Next Thursday. Gryffindors will meet Madam Hooch along with the Slytherins out in the grounds.

Harry swallowed nervously. He had thought about flying and was quite looking forward to it, but now he was going to have to learn in front of the Slytherins and more importantly, Malfoy.

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Chapter Eleven

All Harry heard from the other first years for the next week was how they were great flyers. Ron kept telling anybody who would listen how he used to practice with his brother Charlie, who was previously the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He also told people how he had had a near accident when he almost hit a hand glider, but that he used his flying skills to avoid being hurt or killed. Seamus, who was from a wizarding family, seemed to have been flying before he could walk. The worst was Malfoy. He would tell long bragging stories about him flying around, messing with muggles and shooting spells at helicopters. He also complained in arrogance that the school brooms were too old and that it was stupid that first years weren't allowed a place on their house Quidditch team.

Only when Hermione pointed out that he would have been reprimanded by the Ministry if he was caught shooting spells at Muggles, did people stop listening to him. On Thursday morning, Harry was incredibly nervous. He was going to make a fool of himself, he knew it. He didn't have an appetite for breakfast and didn't eat anything, he just listened to Neville talk about the Remembrall that his grandmother had sent him. He had a terrible memory and the Remembrall was supposed to help him remember what he had forgotten.

Harry regretted not having breakfast, because his stomach spent the day growling in protest. At three thirty, he made his way out into the grounds. It was a cool, breezy day and the sun was shining in his eyes as he took his place among the broomsticks that were placed neatly on the ground. He saw Hermione standing across from him. She also looked very nervous so he gave her an encouraging smile. She smiled back which for some reason made him extremely happy. Probably because she hasn't spoken to me for ages, he thought. Neville looked as if he was about to throw up. His grandmother was very protective of him and didn't allow him to fly a broomstick as he was extremely clumsy. Harry secretly agreed with her.

Malfoy looked very smug as he took his place beside his broomstick. Ron also didn't seem bothered. He was talking animatedly to Seamus who was standing beside him. Madam Hooch made her way across the grounds to them. She had short grey bristly hair and her eyes reminded Harry of a hawk. “Well, what are you waiting for? One hand over the broomstick and say `UP'.”

Harry stretched his hand out and said `up'. The broomstick leapt into his hand and he closed his fist over it. Malfoy got it a few seconds afterwards and then scowled when he realized he wasn't the first one to get it. Many people were struggling. Ron was nearly shouting at his broomstick, he was very hot-headed. Harry saw Hermione was also straining to get her broomstick to jump into her hand. He thought she must find it hard not to achieve something. It hadn't taken Harry long to realize that Hermione was very intelligent and that she worked extremely hard when it came to her studies. She always answered the teachers questions immediately and took pride in being right. This must be killing her, Harry thought.

He noticed she didn't have her hand fully outstretched and it seemed that deep down she wasn't too pushed to climb onto a broomstick. Harry put his broom on the ground and walked over to help her. “There's nothing to be afraid of,” he said softly. ”We probably wont leave the ground far behind.” She turned to him, her brow furrowed. “I am NOT afraid,” she said annoyed. She tried the broom once again, but to no avail. “Here,” Harry said walking over to her side. He placed his hand over hers and stretched out his arm so hers' did the same. He then made her open her palm wider. “Now, say it again. But be more commanding.” She swallowed and then said “UP”

The broom jumped into her hand and she caught it. She smiled and thanked Harry, who made his way back to is own broom wondering why his throat had gone dry. For the next few minutes they practiced their grip on the broomsticks. Madam Hooch corrected a lot of people's grips and told a furious Malfoy he had been holding his broom wrong for years. When everybody was in place she said “Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard.” But Neville who was nervous and jumpy pushed off the ground too hard and he was launched into the air. He rose straight up and at twenty feet he gasped and slipped from the broom. He hit the ground with considerable force.

Neville lay sprawled on the ground; Harry could hear him whimpering in pain. Madam Hooch made her way over to him. She bent down and then said “Broken wrist- come on, Hospital Wing. Thank Merlin, its nothing worse.” She helped him up off the ground and walked him past the other students.

“If I catch anyone on a broomstick, they'll be immediately expelled.” She warned.

Soon after she had left, Malfoy burst out laughing. His cronies followed his lead. “Did you see the fat lumps face.” Ron stepped forward with Seamus and Dean. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

“Why should I? What are you going to do?” he sneered. Ron once again progressed towards Malfoy. Crabbe threw a punch at him surprisingly. Harry, who had been standing to the side of them, caught Crabbe's fist and held it in a vice like grip. Crabbe let out a very girlish squeal and Harry let go of him. All the Gryffindors were laughing now.

Harry's face remained impassive.

Suddenly Malfoy bent down and scooped something up off the low blades of grass. “It's Longbottom's Remembrall.” “Give it here, Malfoy,” Harry asked quietly. Malfoy smirked at him and then went over and retrieved a broom from the ground. He leapt onto the broomstick and smiled nastily at Harry. “I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect- up a tree? He took off and Harry registered that he could actually fly quite well. “What's the matter Potter, a bit beyond your reach?”

Harry thought about his options for a moment before he stretched out his hand and his broom, which he had dropped earlier on, flew a few feet into his hand. He caught it and mounted it. “No!” Hermione shouted. “You could get hur…you could get into trouble.”

But Harry was so angry he didn't hear her. All that was going through his mind now, was that he had to get that Remembrall back. He kicked hard off the ground and soared into the air. He had never felt so alive as he realized that he loved flying. The air rushed through his hair and his robes whipped out behind him. He drew level with Malfoy who wore a look of complete shock on his face. He heard screams coming from the ground below him and recognized Ron giving an admiring whoop. Harry gave Malfoy a look of pure loathing. “You're alone now. There's no one to help you up here.” The same thought had just struck Malfoy who quickly regained some of his arrogance. “If you want it come and get it.” Harry pointed the front of the broom stick in Malfoy's direction. He then shot towards him like a javelin. Malfoy moved a bit and stuck his leg out, which connected with Harry's chest and winded him.

Harry was knocked back off his broom. Just at the last minute he grabbed the edge of the broomstick. He was now hanging off the broom, swing precariously. Using all his strength he clambered back onto the broom to see Malfoy's stunned face which contorted with fury. “Catch it if you can, then!” he shouted throwing the small glass ball high into the air.

It hung in the air for a moment before it fell slowly back toward the ground. Harry followed it and dived towards the ground. His speed was increasing with every second but he didn't stop or slow down. He was gaining on the small ball. He cautiously took one hand off the front of the broom and closed his hand over the Remembrall. He then pulled his broom up so that he swerved out of the way of the ground. He jumped off his broomstick, his legs feeling a bit like jelly.

“HARRY POTTER' his heart plummeted as he recognized Professor McGonagall's voice. “Come with me-now!” Harry followed her silently. The other students, well Gryffindors, protested against his unknown punishment. Harry saw Malfoy wearing a triumphant grin as he trailed behind Professor McGonagall.

He was going to be expelled, he knew it. He hadn't even lasted a month. He tried taking deep breaths but McGonagall was walking so fast he didn't even have time to breathe. He followed her through corridors and up flights of stairs. He kept trying to will himself to say something, anything. You idiot Harry. You great big stupid idiot. She told you not to, didn't she? Madam Hooch told you not to, but no. You just had to disobey her. You prat. He thought.

Suddenly McGonagall stopped walking and Harry nearly collided with her. She knocked on the door of what Harry recognized as the Charms room. “Pardon me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment,” she asked politely. Harry heard Flitwick answer her and they were soon joined by a burly fifth year. If Harry was confused before he was well beyond that now. Bewildered would have been an understatement. She walked them into an empty classroom and then shouted at Peeves for writing rude words on the blackboard with the chalk. Peeves gave her an evil grin but stopped when he saw Harry. His grin vanished to be replaced by a slightly apprehensive look. He then zoomed out of the classroom and McGonagall slammed the door behind him. Wood looked curiously at Harry, who in turn looked away.

“Wood, I have found you a seeker,” McGonagall said excitedly. Wood's expression immediately turned into delight. `Are you serious Professor?”

“He caught a small transparent ball after a fifty foot dive. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it. Potter,” she turned to Harry “this is Oliver Wood. He is Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.” Harry didn't really know where this was going, but he was certain of one thing, he wasn't getting expelled.

“Have you ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” Wood asked positively jumping up and down. Harry shook his head. “He's just the build of a seeker too. Light-speedy.” Wood said circling Harry. Harry didn't dare believe what his head was telling him. “He needs a good broom. A Cleansweep or something,” Wood was now saying.

“I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore. He should be able to do something. We'll keep it quiet for a while, our secret weapon,” she said smiling. “I want to hear you're training hard or I may just change my mind. Your father would be proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself,” she said before leaving the class with Wood.

Harry didn't tell Ron about being appointed Gryffindor seeker. One, he feared that he would get all weird around him and two because he might tell Seamus or someone. Harry ate dinner with the rest of the Gryffindors. They were all relieved Harry didn't get expelled and when Malfoy saw him he gave him malevolent grin and made his way towards him. `Having a last meal Potter?”

“You're a lot braver you have your little friends back,” Harry said pointing his fork at Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy narrowed his eyes. `I'd take you on anytime on your own,” Malfoy said coolly. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel.” Before Harry could answer Ron said “I'm his second. Who's yours?” Malfoy seemed to be sizing up his cronies before answering “Crabbe. Trophy Room. Midnight.” He then left.

Harry rounded on Ron. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?

“Listen Harry, you don't want to back down, especially in front of a Malfoy. He gets one over on you and he'll never let it go.”

Harry thought for a moment. He agreed with Ron but he didn't want to be in another situation where there was a good chance he was going to be caught and expelled. “Alright,” he decided. “We'll go. But we're not staying long.”

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind them. They both looked up to see Hermione Granger. She was looking very annoyed about something. “I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Malfoy-”

“Bet you could,” Ron muttered.

“-and you can't go running around the school at night. You'll get caught, you're bound to be. And doing this for someone like Malfoy is really pathetic in my opinion.”

“What make you think we care about your opinion?” Ron asked snidely. Harry elbowed him in the stomach. When he turned back around he saw Hermione leaving the Great Hall in a hurry.

“Why did you say that?' Harry asked annoyed. “Because she's always interfering in other peoples business,” Ron exclaimed.

The rest of the day passed without incident and at half past eleven Harry and Ron got ready to leave Gryffindor tower. Ron just put on a dressing gown over his pajamas while Harry was fully dressed in his school robes. “Ready?” Ron asked. “Yeah,” Harry sighed. He was expecting a trap, it seemed just like Malfoy.

As they walked through the common room a lamp flickered on and Hermione stepped out from behind an armchair. “I can't believe you're going to do this. It's just so selfish.” She was wearing a pink dressing gown but Harry noticed she was wearing a pair of runners as well which made him think that she wasn't interested in going to bed at the moment. “You,” Ron said infuriated. “Go back to bed and stop interfering.” Hermione crossed the common room and, ignoring Ron, she stood in front of Harry. `Listen to me. You know that what you are doing is wrong and still you're set on doing it anyway. Why don't you care? Just think of all the points you'll lose,” she added pleadingly.

Harry thought about the situation. He couldn't not show up, but what if it was a trap, what if Malfoy wasn't going to show up. “We won't be long. And we wont be caught,” Harry said with a tone of finality. Ron and Harry made their way outside the portrait hole, but Hermione wasn't finished there, she followed them out as well hissing like an angry goose. “Don't you care about anything but yourselves?” “Go away!” said Ron.

They then heard a groan and turned to see what was wrong with Hermione. The portrait of the Fat Lady was empty and she was locked out of the tower. Hermione then walked up to them and stood beside them as they peered around a corner. “I'm coming with you,” she said bossily. “No, go back and wait outside the portrait hole. There's less risk of being caught,” Harry said desperately. He didn't want Hermione to get in trouble. “If Filch catches us I'll tell him the truth that I was trying to stop you.” Ron was about to argue but Harry just decided to say “Fine.”

They crept through the silent corridors making sure there was no one behind them or ahead of them. They made sure to maintain the silence.

Soon Harry could hear a weird sort of snuffling and nearly died of shock when he realized there was a student lying on the ground. It was Neville. He had forgotten the password into the tower. Harry told him the password and started down the corridor again. “Don't leave me! I don't want to stay here on my own. The Bloody Baron's been past twice.”

So now they started off again, four of them all staying close to each other, terrified they would be seen. When they got to the trophy room, Harry walked in first. One scan of the room told him Malfoy hadn't been here. The trophies seemed to watch them as they tip-toed through the room.

Just then Harry heard a noise. “Did you hear that?” he asked quickly. It seemed very low and far away. Footsteps. “No,” the other replied. Harry wondered whether his acute hearing was helping again. “We have to go, now,” he said imploringly. “No,” said Ron. “What if Malfoy comes and we aren't here. He'll never let it go Harry!”

“Ron, I don't care. If we get caught he'll never let it go either. Now, I'm going. You can either stay here and wait for Filch or come with me, I know the quickest way back to Gryffindor tower.”

Suddenly they heard footsteps in the next room and they all stopped breathing their hearts in their mouths. “Sniff around, my sweet. We'll catch them. Oh yes we will.” It was Filch talking to Mrs. Norris.

Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm and motioned to Ron and Neville to follow him. They crept down a long corridor that had many suits of armour and huge portraits hanging from the walls. Suddenly they heard a yell from one of the portraits. `Hey there. What are you doing out at this time of night?”

“RUN?” Harry shouted and they all ran as fast as they could down the corridor. Harry burst through the door at the end of the corridor and lead them down another one. They galloped through what seemed hundreds of corridors, Harry trying his best to keep his bearings of the layout of Hogwarts, but it was almost pointless. He led them through a tapestry out onto yet another corridor. Then Harry spotted the Charms classroom. “We're ages away from the trophy room,” he panted. They were all breathing heavily. Hermione was clutching a stitch in her chest. “It was a trap. Malfoy, he tricked you. He was never going to be there. He must have tipped Filch.” Suddenly Peeves burst out from a classroom, spotted them and with an evil grin approached them. But once again he saw Harry and stopped dead in his tracks.

Then they heard Filch give a shout. They stood there petrified wondering what was going to happen. “Go now! I'll take care of filthy Filch,' Peeves cackled. They started off once more but Hermione moaned in pain, the stitch in her side stopped her from running. Harry grabbed her and threw her arm over his shoulder and half-carried her down the corridor. The corridor ended in a door which was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We're done for! This is the end” Harry grabbed his wand and pointed it at the door. “Alohomora!” They heard a lock click, Harry opened the door and all four of them rushed inside slamming the door behind them.

Harry put his ear to the door to listen to what was happening outside. “Which way did they go Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Say please,” said Peeves cackling some more.

“Listen, I'll have you thrown out if you don't tell me where they went!” screamed Filch.

“Shan't say nothing if you don't say please,” sang Peeves. He was clearly enjoying this. Harry ignored Neville who was tugging at his robe.

“All right-please,” conceded Filch.

“NOTHING! Ha haaaaaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please.”

Harry heard Filch cursing and Peeves laughing his head off. Neville was still tugging at his robe.

“What Neville?” He turned around to look at Neville. Neville was staring white faced at something in front of him. Harry turned fully around and nearly fainted from shock. They hadn't run into a room, they had run into yet another corridor. The forbidden corridor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

Standing at the other end of the corridor was a huge three headed dog. It filled the corridor with its enormous size. Drool was hanging from its mouths, splaying across the floor puddles of spit. Its six eyes were fixed on the four strange intruders into their corridor. Harry knew the reason they were not already dead was because they had taken it by surprise. Soon they could hear thunderous growls and Harry knew it was time to leave. Harry grabbed the doorknob-praying Filch had left the other corridor. They all ran into the Charms corridor and Harry slammed the door shut. They flew back to Gryffindor tower. Hermione was capable of running, the three headed dog had driven the stitch out of her mind.

The Fat Lady was quite mystified to see them, but allowed them in nonetheless. They collapsed into the armchairs all panting from their flat out running. Hermione was once again gripping the stitch in her chest. They sat there for a few moments, the shock still silencing them until

“WHAT are they thinking about, keeping something like that in a school!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry thought about what he had said for a few seconds. Then Hermione said what Harry was thinking. “Didn't you see what it was standing on?”

“Yeah, it was standing over a trapdoor,” Harry replied. “It must be guarding something,” he said speaking more to himself than anyone else.

“I hope you're happy,” she said standing up. “We could all have been killed- or worse, expelled. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed.'

Ron looked at her incredulously. Harry then felt extremely guilty for everything that had happened that night.

As he climbed into his bed he began wondering about the three headed dog and what it was guarding. Hagrid had said Gringotts was the safest place to hide something except perhaps Hogwarts. Harry wondered whether he had just found out where the package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.

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Chapter Twelve

The next day Harry awoke later than usual, but it was unsurprisingly earlier than most of the students. When he examined himself in the clear mirror in the bathroom, he noticed he had bags under his eyes and looked exhausted. He went down to breakfast and saw Hermione sitting at the long Gryffindor table alone. She also looked weary and Harry saw that today she wasn't reading a book while at breakfast, which was unusual. When she looked up and saw him, she huffed, grabbed her bag and left the Great Hall in quite a hurry. Harry sighed; he didn't want her to be annoyed with him.

A few minutes later Ron arrived down with Seamus, Dean and Neville. They were talking excitedly and Harry worried for a brief moment whether Ron had told them about the previous night. But Harry caught some of their conversation as they neared where he was sitting; it only calmed him down momentarily. “Anyway, George said that Oliver Wood, the captain, could barely sit still he was so overjoyed. This Seeker must be really good, cause I heard Wood was a hard captain and not easily impressed,” Ron was saying. Harry quickly finished his breakfast and left, not wanting to join in their conversation.

The next few weeks flew by and Harry was shocked to find that it was nearly approaching Halloween. He was spending a lot of time in the library, studying and also doing extra research. He was quite interested in magical animals. There were hundreds of books about various beasts and Harry was astounded to find that a lot of these were old Greek legends. He also continued his research of spells and had found a book that focused on offensive and defensive magic. He also continued to practice wandless magic. He could now master a lot of spells without the use of a wand, but he never told anybody because he feared that they would start treating him differently.

He was still slightly detached from the other students. He found that he could talk easily enough with them but he could never talk about himself, he didn't like people knowing anything about him. He thought it interesting how people were capable of openly chatting about their families or what their life was like before Hogwarts. He didn't hang around with Ron and the other boys from his dormitory as much as he used to as he was in the library, but he still spoke to them at dinner time.

He hadn't spoken with Hermione since the night with the three headed dog. He doubted she would ever speak to him again.

Harry had started Quidditch practices. He found that they drained him a lot but also that he enjoyed the training. Still nobody but the team knew about Harry being seeker and even the Weasley twins, who were on the team, didn't tell Ron. Harry had received a Nimbus 2000 from Professor McGonagall a few days after being put on the team. He had thanked her many times until she threatened to put him on detention if he even breathed one more word of thanks. He found this broom a lot faster than the school brooms. He often dived to feel the adrenaline rush he got just before pulling up. The only problem with this was that he often nearly gave the other members of the team a heart attack.

His classes were going smoothly and Harry found that he wasn't behind anyone in the year. He could perform whatever task he was set. Potions was his least favorite class. Snape spent his time criticizing Harry, so Harry retaliated by doing his best so that Snape would have nothing to disapprove of. Hermione tried to ignore him as best she could but they would always end up helping each other in some way, but would always do so without words. This bothered Harry enormously mainly because he couldn't figure out why it bothered him in the first place.

The weather was slowly getting worse with sheets of rain being blown against the castle by the ferocious winds. Harry found it extremely difficult to train in these conditions as he kept being blown off course. One night, after a particularly bad practice, Harry returned to the common room soaked through to the skin. He was already changed but now his school robes were drenched also. “What happened to you? Were you out there in the rain?” Ron asked incredulously. He was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, with Seamus and Dean occupying the other worn armchairs. Neville lay on his stomach on the decorated rug which was set neatly in front of the fireplace.

“Yeah. Did you finish your Charms homework yet?” Harry replied, trying his best to avoid the question. “No, it's too long an essay to write!” Ron groaned. He hated doing homework and was always asking for help. Harry took a seat in front of the blazing fire and leaned back, trying to relax his aching muscles. After a few minutes of listening to the scribbling of Ron's quill, he decided he would get an early night's sleep. “I'm going up, I'm knackered,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Get a good night's rest before Halloween, eh Harry,” winked Seamus. “I can't wait for the feast,” said Ron longingly, looking as if he was picturing the food in his head. “Fred and George said they serve the best food at Hogwarts on Halloween night.”

Harry bade them goodnight and made his way up to the dormitory. The wind was howling outside the tower and the windows were rattling against their frames. Harry felt a draught and went over to make sure the window was shut properly. After securing it was shut tightly he turned back around, returning to his bed. But just at that moment, a burning pain shot through his scar and Harry fell to his knees. He felt as if someone was pressing a scalding iron against his forehead. The intensity of the pain decreased and Harry felt completely drained. He keeled over and lay on the hard cold floor, pale and shaking.

When he had recovered slightly he climbed onto his four poster bed. He felt extremely weak but his head seemed to be swimming with thoughts. It was after a while that Harry realized what must have happened. It was Halloween. His parents and his scar's anniversary.

Harry barely slept that night. He kept having terrible nightmares in which he heard a high cruel laugh and then a blinding flash of green light.

After sitting for a few hours in the common room alone he found that the pain from the previous night had evaporated completely. Soon he could smell the food for the delicious feast wafting through the corridors. He heard footsteps coming down the girl's staircase and turned around to see Hermione standing in the doorway. An uneasy silence fell between them; they hadn't spoken for quite a while. Harry was on the verge of asking her why she was avoiding him when Ron came thundering down the staircase and arrived in the common room. “Morning Harry. Happy Halloween,” he said cheerfully.

Harry watched as Hermione looked at Ron and then turned her back on the common room and made her way back up the stairs. Suddenly it hit Harry why she had been avoiding him. Not once had Harry seen Ron be civilized towards Hermione. He rarely paid any notice to her and when he did, he never had anything polite or pleasant to say to her. Hermione was not shunning Harry, she was ignoring Ron. She must think I'm like him, he thought worriedly. This puzzled him because he had spoken to her on the train and she'd seemed fine then. Yes, but that was before you met Ron. She probably thinks, that now, you don't like her anymore because Ron doesn't, explained a voice in his head.

Everyone was quite excited that day as Professor Flitwick had informed them that they were to start performing spells as he thought they had had enough theory work. Harry had to admit that he was relieved to find this as he was getting quite bored writing down notes. He had already performed a lot of the spells that Flitwick had said they would be working on.

When they arrived in class they were separated into pairs. Harry went with Neville and Ron was horrified to find he had been put with Hermione. Hermione really didn't seem too happy herself, she flung herself into the seat beside Ron and avoided looking at him, her eyes fixed on Flitwick. They were to start with the levitating charm something which Harry had mastered months ago. Professor Flitwick warned them about getting the pronunciation correct. And so they started everybody in the class swishing and flicking their wands. They were to levitate a feather which they shared one between two. Harry got it on his first go and then left it to Neville to practice. Neville was having a difficult time. His wand had started to smoke at the tip and looked as if it was about to explode. He panicked and ran out of the classroom holding his wand as far from his face as possible. They heard a loud explosion from outside the classroom and Professor Flitwick went to check if Neville was okay.

Over at the other table Ron was getting angrier with every minute as he couldn't correct the spell. He was jabbing at the feather and Harry noted that he was saying the pronunciation incorrectly. “You're saying it wrong,” Harry heard Hermione snap. “It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the “gar” nice and long.” “You do it, then, if you're so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione, who was becoming increasingly impatient, rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand and said “Wingardium Leviosa.” The feather rose and hovered above the table. As she lowered her wand it descended and took its place on the desk again. “Well done Ms. Granger,” squeaked Flitwick returning to the class with an ashen faced, slightly dazed looking Neville.

After class Harry found Ron in an awful temper. “No wonder no one can stand her. She's such a bossy little know it all. Complete nightmare. No wonder she doesn't have any friends,” he said loudly. Someone knocked into Harry. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face and was shocked to see it was tear-streaked.

“You idiot,” Harry hissed as he rounded on Ron. Ron looked slightly put out. “What? She must have noticed no one wants to hang around with her,” he said innocently. Harry thought Ron must feel the slightest bit guilty. But it didn't help to forgive him.

Hermione didn't show up for the next class and Harry didn't see her all afternoon. He had overheard from Lavender Brown that she had spent the day in the girl's toilet, crying. Just before the feast was starting Harry hurried down to the girls bathroom, nervous but also determined to help Hermione. He was relieved to find the bathroom empty except for one cubicle whose door was locked. He stepped forward cautiously. He heard sniffling coming from the other side of the locked door. “Er… Hermione?” he asked quietly through the door. The sniffing immediately stopped. “Who is that? Go away. This is a girl's bathroom,” she said forcefully.

“It's me. Harry. I…came to see if you were alright,” he said shakily. He was met by silence so he decided to continue. “Listen, Ron didn't mean any of those things he said.”

“Yes he did! Don't try and cover up for him. You know he meant it. You probably think those things too,” she said before returning to crying.

“NO! I don't think any of those things!” Harry said loudly. Just then the door to the toilets opened and Parvati Patil walked in. She looked startled to see Harry. Harry gave up and decided to head to the feast before Parvati could tell anyone there was a boy in the girls toilets and have him thrown out. He really wanted to talk to Hermione and sort everything out but the state she was in meant he couldn't get a word through to her.

When he arrived in the Great Hall he was dumbfounded by the magnitude of the decorations. Pumpkins the size of carriages were set in every corner. Thousands of live bats were fluttering high over the tables giving the impression that they were large black clouds against the starry sky. The feast had already begun as Harry could hear the clinking of many knives and forks. Ron waved him over. At first he was going to ignore him and sit elsewhere but when he realized that the bench was full he made his way over and sat beside Ron, facing Seamus and Dean.

“I'm sorry Harry, about earlier on,” Ron said shamefully. “It's not me you should apologize to,” retorted Harry. He understood that Ron felt guilty but he was annoyed he didn't see the answer. “Apologize to Hermione,” he said. Ron continued to eat and then said “She wouldn't listen to me anyway. She thinks she's better than us and that….”

“Drop it,” Harry said. He was becoming terse with Ron's excuses. Why couldn't he just take responsibility and admit he had been wrong. Suddenly Professor Quirrell came running into the Great Hall. He ran up to the high table and screamed dramatically “TROLL! Troll in the dungeon,” he then fainted in a heap on the floor.

There was instant uproar as people scrambled about screaming and shouting. Dumbledore stood up and fired off shots from his wand into the air, which sent the bats scattering away. “Calm! Prefects, please lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately.” Percy immediately started giving out orders. “Line up. Stay close together.”

Harry followed a train of people into the Entrance Hall. Then as they climbed the marble staircase a horrible realization struck Harry. He grabbed Ron's arm. I've just thought- Hermione!”

“What about her?” said Ron.

“She doesn't know about the troll. We have to get her,” whispered Harry so no one could hear them. “No way Harry. Us…against a troll. Are you barking?”

Harry was becoming desperate. He had to get to Hermione, fast. “What about Hermione, eh?”

Ron thought for a moment. “Find a teacher. Tell them.”

Harry grabbed both of Ron's shoulders. “There's no time. You go alert a teacher. I'm going to get Hermione.” With that Harry bent down low and rushed through the crowds and veered off through a tapestry, hoping to God that Ron would do as he had told him. It was strangely silent as he couldn't hear the bustle of the students anymore.

Suddenly Harry heard quick footsteps. He jumped behind the statue of a large griffin and hid in the shadows as he watched Snape walk swiftly by. He wondered why Snape wasn't with the other teachers and also why he was heading in the direction of the third floor.

Harry started off once again. After a few moments he smelt a terrible stench making its way through the corridor. Then he heard a low grunting and the loud footfalls of gigantic feet. Harry once again shrank into the shadows and watched as the troll passed him by on the corridor. It stood twelve feet tall, its skin a grayish color. Its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. In its long arms it dragged a wooden club along the floor.

Harry watched horrified as it slouched into a doorway and realized that the doorway lead into the girls toilets. Suddenly Harry heard a high petrified scream and struck like lightening he realized that not for the first time had he heard that scream. He suddenly had a flashback of the day of his accident. The car slamming into him, the screaming. Harry grabbed his head as if the memories pained him. He shook them away and headed for the girls toilets.

He rushed inside and saw Hermione shrinking against the wall opposite. Making up his mind he ran across the room, past the troll and caught Hermione just as she was about to fall to the ground in a faint. Her eyes were still on the troll, she didn't seem to know that Harry was even there.

Harry grabbed her and pushed her into the cubicle, he knew the troll could see them, but he needed to buy some time. “Hermione, look at me,” he said shaking her. She looked at him as if for the first time. Then she seemed to get back to herself. “What are we going to do,” she said, terrified.

Harry then felt the warning pain in his head. He ducked low to the ground, dragging Hermione down with him, and the troll's club swung over their heads smashing the cubicle walls into millions of pieces. They were now very exposed not to mention covered in dust and debris. All that was going through Harry's head was that he had to get Hermione out of harms way. He grabbed her hand and made a go at running across the room to the door. The club came swinging again and Harry let go of Hermione and they both jumped to opposite sides of the room.

Harry knew now that the only way to get out of the girls toilets was to take down the troll. He tried to remember anything he had read about trolls. They were notoriously stupid and also feared fire. “Hermione! Throw things at it, confuse him!” Harry shouted across the room. The shout seemed to have interrupted the troll and it turned slowly around to stare at Harry. Its face then contorted with fury. Hermione picked up a tap and threw it at the troll, but it didn't seem to notice. Harry took out his wand and saw Hermione do the same. He pointed it into the air and several loud bangs rent the air. This seemed to startle the troll. But it quickly recovered and Harry only noticed at the last second that it had swung its large wooden club once again. The hard club crashed into Harry's right side, the force mainly on his leg, the one he had broken a good few months ago. Harry was lifted high off his feet and sent flying into the wall. His wand left his hand and flew across the room. He then hit the ground with considerable force. Bur he was still conscious.

The troll then turned to Hermione. Using her wand she emitted rays of different colored lights in to the air. The troll became fascinated by the different colors. But when it stepped forward to have a closer look they exploded with the noise of a cannon and smoke swirled around the troll's head. It became furious and lifted its club above its head with both enormous hands. In her haste to get away, Hermione tripped and whacked her head off the ground which opened up a cut over her left eye.

Harry used all his inner strength to lift himself off the ground, leaning heavily against the wall for support. He stretched out his hand and his wand zoomed back across the room and he caught it. He aimed his wand just above the troll's head. “Flammora,” he shouted. A jet of fire streamed over the troll's head. It lowered its club and cowered under the jet of flame. Harry's legs buckled beneath him. He was exhausted and he had sustained some serious damage to his rib cage. His right leg was issuing blood at an alarming rate; it had nearly been ripped off.

Harry dropped his wand as he fell to the ground. The troll once again looked infuriated at having its weakness used against it. It raised its club for the last time, but Hermione had regained her feet. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The club left the trolls hands and dropped to the floor with a tremendous clatter. The troll turned to Hermione and slouched towards her with its fists raised. Hermione backed away. Harry seeing this used his remaining strength to stand back up and Hermione couldn't help but see the fire burning in his eyes. He picked up his wand and aimed this time at the troll. Gathering all the strength left within him and all the magic he possessed he screamed `STUPEFY!”

The spell shot straight at the troll, who immediately fell to the ground stunned. The ground had shook as the spell had charged up and the blast had also caused the room to shake.

Silence now descended on the room. Hermione couldn't see Harry as there was dust swirling around the room from the ridged form of the troll. Suddenly the door burst open and Professors McGonagall, Snape, Quirrel and Dumbledore entered the room. “What on earth…” said a shocked McGonagall.

The dust cleared and they all turned to look at the other end of the room where Harry stood stock still. He wasn't looking at any of them, his eyes fixed on the troll. Then he dropped his wand, stumbled backwards against the wall and after a moment he slid down the wall into a sitting position. His face was screwed up in pain. Suddenly the silence was ripped apart by a scream of agony from Harry. This seemed to wake up the others. “Harry!” Hermione shouted and ran towards him. “Severus, get Madam Pomfrey, NOW!” said Professor Dumbledore worriedly making his way towards Harry.

I don't know if this is what you would call a cliff hanger. Anyway I hope you enjoy it.

I saw Goblet of Fire the other night. I was quite disappointed but I was also wondering was I the only one who saw much more H/Hr moments in it. I think the film-makers are a bit delusional in my opinion.

So, hope you like the chapter. I have no idea when the next update will be, hopefully soon. How about the weekend|? Thanks for reading (and reviewing)

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Thirteen

Professor Dumbledore made his way over to Harry, his face a mask of worry. Hermione Granger was already there looking frightened and also rather helpless. She didn't know how she could help. It was her fault, she knew it. If she had just gone to the feast then Harry wouldn't have had to come and save her.

Blood surrounded Harry's leg. It was a horrific sight. Muscle tissue and bone could be seen as his trousers and his leg had simultaneously been ripped apart. Dumbledore quickly bent down beside Harry and examined any other injuries he may have sustained. He noticed Harry was cradling his chest and thought Harry may have broken his ribs. Madam Pomfrey suddenly arrived at the scene and made her way swiftly to Harry. She had brought a Blood Replenishing potion which she now knew was a good idea. After administering it to him she conjured up a stretcher and they lifted Harry onto it carefully.

After Harry was placed on a bed in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey immediately started trying to repair his tattered leg. Unlike last time Harry injured his leg, there was now magic to help him. She started to perform spells over his leg and the skin began to regenerate itself. Harry had to look away as the sight was not at all pleasant. His eyes burned in pain as he felt his skin bubble and stretch. He was barely conscious and after Professor Dumbledore saw how much pain he was enduring he tapped Harry on the head with his wand and Harry immediately fell back onto his pillow unconscious. Madam Pomfrey gave Professor Dumbledore a stern look and Dumbledore then left Harry's bedside to check on Hermione.

Hermione was sitting on a bed down the other end of the wing. Professor McGonagall was trying to calm her down and also check the cut over her eye. Hermione instantly stood up when she saw Professor Dumbledore heading her direction. “Professor is Harry alright?” she asked pleadingly. “Yes, Miss Granger. Harry should recover,” he said quietly. “It's my fault. He came to get me. But I was too stubborn and wouldn't listen to him,” she said self reproachfully. Tears had been in her eyes since she had entered the girl's toilets early that morning. They had stopped during the incident with the troll, but now they fell freely onto her robes. She moved back onto the bed her face in her hands. “Ms. Granger, the fault lies with no one in this particular situation,” consoled Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall cleared up the cut over Hermione's eye. Madam Pomfrey had finished with Harry. He had a bandage wrapped around his chest after giving him a potion to help broken bones, especially ribs as they protected some vital organs. His leg had been cleared up and another bandage had been wrapped around it. The bandages had magical properties which helped heal skin from scars and disfigurations. Harry now lay peacefully in his bed, he was slightly pale but he was recovering quite well considering the extent of his injuries. Hermione stayed with him for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall brought her back to Gryffindor Tower.

Professor Dumbledore asked Snape and Flitwick to examine the toilets and the troll for any evidence which might help in discovering the culprit who let the troll in. There were no major clues as to how the troll entered the school, but they confirmed he was a mountain troll. They were surprised to find that Harry had actually been able to stun the troll. Usually because of their size and magic they would be extremely difficult to put into am unconscious state.

Hermione climbed through the portrait hole and was quite surprised to see Ron Weasley sitting on the couch in front of the welcoming warm fire. It was quite late, darkness had covered the castle and all the students had gone to bed. Ron stood up when she entered and then his face took on a disappointed expression, he had obviously been waiting on Harry. “Is he okay?” he asked rather apprehensively. “Professor Dumbledore said that he was going to recover,” Hermione answered quickly. She didn't think there was any point being evasive or rude. After all she had been through that night she was too tired to be angered by Ron Weasley. So, she told him what had happened and also about Harry's injuries. She was shocked to hear that Ron had actually informed the teachers about Harry's actions, hence their timely arrival.

After they finished telling their stories an awkward silence fell between them. Hermione just stared into the depths of the warming fire while Ron fidgeted with a hole on the battered couch he was occupying. It was only when Ron cleared his throat that Hermione snapped out of her reverie. “Er….I'm sorry about….about what I said…earlier on.” He looked very uncomfortable and it seemed a very hard thing for him to do. Hermione decided that she didn't want to fight with him, at least not tonight. She was too worried about Harry. Also he was Harry's friend and he must have had some good in him.

“It's alright,” she murmured. “You don't know me, that's why it hurt me so much,” she added hoping he could at least learn something from this. Ron looked as if he would like to argue but then he gave up and made his way up the spiral staircase. Hermione went up to her own dormitory a few minutes later, but she didn't sleep very much

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When Harry awakened the next day he felt a bit stiff but also much better than he had felt before he had become unconscious. Madam Pomfrey was extremely satisfied with his recovery. His chest still felt tight with a sort of lingering pain but Madam Pomfrey had him on potions to relieve most of the pain. His leg was almost completely healed which was a shock for Harry as he remembered the last time he had suffered with his leg. Madam Pomfrey insisted on having Harry rest as much as possible, so he slept for most of the day. During his sleep he missed all the visitors who had come to see him. Hermione had been first, early in the morning. Madam Pomfrey felt obliged to let her into see him because she was with him when it happened. She stayed with him for about half an hour and then rushed off as she realized she was missing her first class of the day.

Hagrid entered the Hospital Wing in floods of tears. Madam Pomfrey warned him to stay quiet as Harry was sleeping. Hagrid spent most of the time whispering about how Harry looked very vulnerable and also told Madam Pomfrey about the time when he had brought Harry to the Dursleys and how he had slept just as he was sleeping now. “Look a' him. Poor thing,” he said sorrowfully. “Hmm,” said Madam Pomfrey thoughtfully. “As I heard it from Professor Dumbledore, he seemed to give the troll a right good fight,” she said nodding her head in Harry's direction. She looked as if this was a very distressing piece of information but also seemed impressed. Hagrid chuckled to himself as he left the wing. “An' he thought he wouldn' fit in,” he muttered to no one in particular.

And so when two days since the incident with the troll had gone by Harry woke up feeling quite refreshed. He gingerly climbed out of the surgically white bed and walked across the cold floor to the other side of the room. At first his going was slow but then he gradually found that he could now walk fine except for the fact his chest still hurt a bit. Madam Pomfrey entered the room heatedly and berated him for getting out of bed as he was her patient. So Harry returned disappointedly to his bed, he was hoping he could leave soon.

When Hermione came to see him that day she was absolutely delighted to see him sitting up against some pillows. Harry asked her questions relating to what happened after he had fallen unconscious. She told him everything, even about her conversation with Ron. “He isn't that bad. He's just really hot-headed and can't keep his mouth shut,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Harry was extremely relieved to find she was alright. He had been worried when she had fallen and the troll was advancing towards her. Her cheeks pinked slightly when he told her this. “I'm sorry for acting like such a…a stubborn fool,” she said guiltily. “And I hope you can forgive me. And that we can start over again,” she added. Harry held out his hand and she shook it, both of them laughing at their actions.

As she got up to leave, throwing her bag over her shoulder, she stopped and gave him a serious look. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I wouldn't have lived if you hadn't come to get me.” Harry felt a bit embarrassed; he couldn't remember being thanked so honestly before. Most people just muttered their thanks or used other things to convey their feelings such as cards or chocolates.

Two days later and Harry was released. Classes resumed as normal. The students didn't know the full story of what had happened on Halloween night and Harry nor Hermione told them. Hermione had stopped ignoring Harry and they did their homework and study together at Harry's small table at the back of the library. Harry found that Hermione was brilliant to work with as unlike Ron she actually wanted to learn. He sat beside her in all of his classes and they now communicated in Potions which meant that both of them improved.

Professor Dumbledore asked Harry to retell the story of what he did to the troll. Harry explained that he didn't want to kill the troll so he just stunned it. He also told him how he knew that they disliked fire and decided to use it against him. Professor Dumbledore was very impressed but he didn't want to openly express this. He did however award Harry and Hermione twenty five points each. Madam Pomfrey had told Harry that to completely recover to his full fitness that he should continue his Quidditch practices much to Wood's delight as he feared that Harry wouldn't be able to play in the upcoming match against Slytherin. Harry also went on an early morning run. He loved the fresh air during the cold morning hours and also it was great exercise.

And so October ended and November began bringing with it lower temperatures and occasional frost. The Quidditch season was about to start. Oliver wood was holding daily practices now and his hope in his team's chances of winning the cup this year were very great. His enthusiasm was almost contagious yet sometimes to the rest of the players it was wearisome. Harry had told Hermione about being Gryffindors seeker one night while they were in the silent library. “You must be the youngest seeker in almost a century,” she said quite amazed. “Yeah, that is what Wood said,” Harry replied. “Hang on. Wait one minute,” she said thoughtfully standing up and going into the aisles full of books. After a few moments she returned carrying an old green leather-bound book. “Quidditch through the Ages,” Harry read. “I heard a boy in our year talking about it. He said it was interesting. Maybe you could use it before you're first match,” she suggested. “Thanks Hermione,” Harry said, amazed by her consideration.

Harry had also told Hermione about the package that Hagrid had took from vault 713. She was very interested in hearing this and also Harry thoughts about the Gringotts break in. “I did wonder what that three headed dog was guarding. It must be really important if they're going to put something that dangerous in the school. I wonder what that package could be,” she said, her brow furrowed in concentration as if she trying to remember something. “I think I was there the day you were in Diagon Alley with Hagrid,' she said. And suddenly Harry remembered the man who had stopped him in Gringotts. He was Hermione's father! He must have been. “Hermione,” Harry started cautiously. “You…you've never seen anyone get hit by a car?” he said cursing the fact that whatever way he had asked the question it still sounded extremely blunt. She looked up startled at him. “How…how did you know?”

“It…it was me. Who got hit by the car, I mean.” He stopped for a minute. “I met you're dad in Gringotts. He told me that he was there and that he helped me.” Hermione thought for a moment. `Yes, he did say he had met you that day. I never saw you're face that day. We never knew what had happened until my dad met you,” she said pensively. “Small world isn't it?” said Harry trying to lighten the mood. “Yes, it is,” said Hermione forcing a smile. They talked for quite a while about the car incident. Hermione told Harry how agonizing it had been, not knowing how Harry had been or how injured he was. Harry then told her about his recovery. It was only when he had finished that he realized that he had actually spoken about his life before Hogwarts.

Alright, I just wanted to tell you what happened after the troll incident. The next chapter will have Gryffindor against Slytherin. Well, I hope you like this chapter. It's not the best as nothing huge happens, but anyway, thanks for reading,

Take care,

Radagast.

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Chapter Fourteen

Saturday dawned bright and also cold. Today was the day of the first Quidditch match of the season. Harry was exceptionally nervous. He woke early in the morning and decided to go for his run to try and take his mind off the upcoming day's events. After his run which he thought was quite refreshing he got changed and made his way down to breakfast. He was still tired as he had been talking with Hermione late into the night about the Gringotts break in and the hidden package. He had told her that he suspected Professor Snape as he had seen him going to the third floor corridor on the night of Halloween. She hadn't been as convinced as he was, seeing that Snape was a teacher, but she did listen to him.

After breakfast, where a lot of people asked him if he was okay (they didn't know why he would be nervous), he grabbed his broomstick and headed out to the Quidditch pitch. He felt like there were hundreds of butterflies scuttling around his stomach. The Quidditch pitch was surrounded by high stands that were covered with the crests of each of the four houses of Hogwarts. At each end of the pitch were three tall golden poles with hoops at the top of each one. Thin frost lay scattered across the pitch so that it crunched slightly as Harry made his way into the dressing rooms.

He got changed and then sat down on one of the benches taking deep breaths. The rest of the team arrived each wishing him good luck in his first match. Harry could soon hear the rest of the school outside taking their places in the stands. The drone from their voices was increasing Harry's anxiety. The remainder of the team was now talking excitedly with each other. The three chasers were going through some of their strategies and Fred and George were practicing swinging their bats ferociously, each with wide smiles of pleasure on their face.

“Harry,” he heard someone say and he spun around to see Hermione standing in the doorway. “Good luck, you'll be fine.”

“Thanks,” he said smiling. He suddenly felt a bit better as he watched her give him the thumbs up and then leave. Oliver Wood came barreling out of the Captains office. “Who was that? It could've have been a spy!” he said quickly. The dressing room roared with laughter. Harry assured Wood that Hermione wasn't a spy. “Okay. Okay calm down everybody. Now listen to me,” Wood said looking at each player individually. “This is the best team Gryffindor have had in a long time, probably since Charlie Weasley. We can do this. This is Gryffindors year!” he shouted. “Hear, hear,” screamed the Weasley twins. Harry could see the pride in Oliver's eyes and the energy in the room increased. The whole team was on their feet and then Oliver said “Right. It's time. Good Luck. All of you.”

Harry's legs felt like jelly as he left the dressing room. He could hear the twins' friend Lee Jordan commentating. The Slytherin team were already waiting on the pitch with Madam Hooch standing beside a dark wooden chest which held the different balls used in the game. “And the Gryffindor team,” he could hear Lee say “Wood, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, the Weasleys and look, the new seeker is POTTER!” He screamed Harry's name and the cheering in the stands exacerbated so that Harry couldn't hear anything. His insides felt like jelly as he stood beside Fred and watched Wood shake hands with the Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint, who looked uncannily like a troll. The two captains seemed to want to crush the others hand but Hooch gave them a piercing look and they let go.

“Mount your brooms, please.”

Harry got on his Nimbus Two Thousand and when she blew her whistle he rose into the air. The spectators were roaring and waving banners through the air. Harry left his worries below on the ground and caught a glimpse of the snitch when Madam Pomfrey opened the wooden chest. It then zoomed off and out of Harry's sight.

The match had begun at an alarming pace. Angelina Johnson picked up the Quaffle and passed it to Spinnet before she was hit by a Bludger. Spinnet then passed it to Bell, but Bell was nearly thrown off her broomstick by a Bludger hit by one of the Slytherin beaters. Harry couldn't see what was going on in the match from then on as he went in search of the snitch. So he listened to Lee's commentary. “Quaffle is intercepted by Adrian Pucey of Slytherin, who dives around Johnson and…oooh…hit by a Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley. Katie Bell is there to take up the Quaffle and Gryffindor Chasers have themselves in an attacking position. Bell to Spinnet, back to Bell, wow great dive from Bell who passes to Johnson- come on now Angelina-GOAL. GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. Hermione was jumping up and down in celebration. Ron was sat in front of her but she didn't care. She was more focused on Harry, worried that he would be hit by a Bludger and plummet to his death. “Well `ello `ermione,” said a kind voice from behind her making her jump. “Hagrid!” she exclaimed, surprised to see him. She had visited Hagrid in his hut with Harry. “I was watchin' from me hut but it's not the same as bein' here, is it?” Hermione was still staring up at Harry who was slowly circling the pitch in search of the snitch. He hadn't done much since he had entered the game; she secretly hoped he wouldn't have to do anything dangerous.

Up in the air Harry dodged out of the way of a Bludger. He saw Fred speed past him bellowing “Alright there Harry?” The game was slightly closer now as Gryffindor had scored two more goals and Slytherin had scored twice making the score thirty- twenty.

“And its Johnson with the Quaffle, ducks a Bludger, intercepted by Pucey, Pucey with the Quaffle, wait a moment- was that the snitch?”

All eyes turned away from the chasers too see Harry hurtling neck and neck with the Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs. They were edging ever more towards the ground and Harry knew that Higgs would pull away first. He leaned in closer to his broom to increase his speed. WHAM! Marcus Flint had collided with Harry knocking him off course. Harry held on tightly to his broom as he tried to straighten it out. He grabbed his chest as his ribs were still a bit weak and Flint had smashed into them. The crowd was roaring abuse at Flint and Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor a penalty. In all of the confusion the snitch had been lost. Harry saw Flint give him a look of disgust before flying off to give instructions to his team. Angelina scored again for Gryffindor and Harry went in search for the snitch. He was a bit shaken after being attacked but he wouldn't allow Higgs to get the snitch.

As Harry was on his second tour of the pitch his broom gave a sudden lurch. He gripped the broom tightly wondering what was happening. Harry thought the broom was acting like a bull trying to buck of its rider. The crowd had noticed this unusual behavior and was now staring at Harry in bewilderment. “What on earth is `arry doin',”said Hagrid. Then the broom began to roll over and over with Harry just managing to hold on. Suddenly the whole crowd gasped as the broom gave a wild frightening lurch and Harry was thrown from the broomstick. “Accio,” Harry thought frantically and the broom inched closer so he grabbed it before he fell. He was now dangling off the broom with both hands.

Everyone had lost interest in the game as they gazed at Harry. His broom had started to shake and rise higher into the air, after another powerful jerk Harry was left hanging on by one hand.

“No way has he lost control of that broom, it must be something else,” said Ron audibly. “Maybe something happened to it when Flint blocked him,” whispered Seamus. “No-it takes powerful Dark Magic to interfere with something as magical as a broomstick,” boomed Hagrid.

Suddenly Hermione got an idea. She grabbed Hagrid's binoculars which were hanging around his neck and looked at the teachers stand. She gasped loudly as she saw Snape muttering to himself. Dropping the binoculars she made her way across the stands. When she reached the one where Snape stood she raced along the row behind him knocking Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. She removed her wand from her pocket and crouching low she whispered some well chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand to the end of Snape's robes. By the time he realized he was on fire Hermione had gone.

Harry after noticing his broomstick seemed to have settled down used all of his strength to swing his leg over it and return to a more comfortable safer position. The crowd cheered and Adrian Pucey, realizing he still had the Quaffle in his hand raced toward the Gryffindor goal post. At that moment the golden snitch flew past Harry who quickly zoomed after it. Higgs had also seen it and followed. At the angle in which they flew, Higgs would reach the snitch first. Harry bent down so low on his broom he was almost lying flat. He quickly edged closer to Higgs and they were again neck and neck. Then the snitch descended in the air so that in order to grab the snitch the seekers would have to dive. But it also stopped, preparing to go in another direction. Higgs didn't notice in time and flew straight by it. Harry seeing the snitch a few feet below him rolled over his broom and holding on with one hand, stretched out and grabbed the snitch. He then rolled back over and let out a long sigh of relief.

“He's got the snitch. GRYFFINDOR WINS!” Lee Jordan was screaming. The crowd was making a thunderous noise and Harry was overcome by his team-mates. When he dismounted his broom he turned to see the Slytherin team looking sullen going back to their changing rooms. He then saw a large crowd of people making their way towards him and the rest of the team. Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean came running over screaming “Wow Harry. How come you never told us?”

Harry fought his way out of the smothering crowd with many a pat on the back. Even though he was overjoyed at winning, his head was still trying to get around the fact that he was nearly murdered by a Nimbus Two Thousand. If he had not summoned his broom then he would have fallen to his death. He once again congratulated himself for doing some extra study. His time spent researching in the library had definitely paid off, especially after the troll.

But he still wanted to know what had happened to his broom so he went in search of the one person who he believed could help him. `Hermione!” he shouted as he saw her wild hair under her purple woolen hat. “Harry,” she said making her way over to him. “You were brilliant.” “What happened to my broom? It just started acting on its own. Have you ever heard of something like that happening?” he whispered so no one would overhear. She gave him a serious look and then dragged him into the dressing room, which was devoid of all people. “You were right. Harry, Snape was jinxing your broom. I think he is involved in the Gringotts break-in,” she stopped as if to think for a moment. “He must know that you are onto him. That's why he tried to kill you,” she added shakily.

“WHAT!” shouted Ron who had just appeared in the doorway. Hermione nearly had a heart attack. Harry looked at her, secretly wondering what they should tell Ron. When Hermione didn't react, he decided on the truth. He told him of the package Hagrid had removed from vault 713. “But listen to me Ron,” Harry said warningly “you can't tell anybody about this. Not even you're brothers.” Ron wore a look of complete shock on his face as if he was terrified of the prospect of a murderous Potions master. “I always knew he was capable of murder. Scary git,” he said to himself.

Ron and Hermione waited outside as Harry quickly got changed into his normal clothes. He pulled on his woolen hat as it made him harder to recognize and he wanted to go to Hagrid's without everybody knowing. “So, what do we do now?” asked Ron. “I want to go to Hagrid's. I think we can trust him,” Harry replied making his way out of the dressing room. The broom shed was located behind the dressing rooms and Harry tucked his Nimbus in behind the other brooms so it would be harder to spot.

Hagrid was very pleased to see them and greeted them with his usual cup of tea. He hadn't really spoken with Ron yet and the first few minutes they spent with him, Hagrid told them about all the times he had caught the Weasley twins approaching the Forbidden Forest.

When Harry did tell Hagrid about Snape he refused to believe them. “Rubbish,” said Hagrid. “Why would Professor Snape do somethin' like that?'

Hermione and Ron looked uncomfortable about telling Hagrid the truth, but Harry knew that someone had to. “Hagrid, that package you got from the vault on my birthday, whatever it is, Snape is trying to steal it.” Hagrid dropped his teapot; it clanged loudly against the silence. “I saw him on Halloween night; he was heading for the third floor corridor, he must have been trying to get past the three headed dog and steal whatever it's guarding.”

“How do you know about Fluffy?' asked Hagrid curiously. “We had a bit of a run in with him,” said Hermione. “Fluffy, Fluffy, what sort of name is that for a terrifying monster,” exclaimed Ron. “He's not that bad. He's mine. Got him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub. He was perfect for guardin' the….NO….no more questions,” said Hagrid quickly. “Listen to me Harry,” he said leaning into Harry so Harry would understand every word he spoke. `This has nothin' to do with you, any of you. This here is betwee' Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel.”

Harry stood up quickly. “Who's Nicholas Flamel, Hagrid?” Harry asked intriguingly. Hagrid cursed himself for letting an important piece of information slip.

“Hagrid, whoever he is and whatever he's doing, Snape is interfering whether you like it or not. I've read all about jinxes and I know when I see one. You have to maintain eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking,” cried Hermione.

“No, Snape is a Hogwarts teacher. He wouldn't try to kill a student. And as fer interferin' in Dumbledore's business, the on'y ones doin' so is yous!” said Hagrid agitated.

“ “You know I think I heard the name Flamel before,” said Hermione thoughtfully as they made their way slowly up to the castle. They had left a furious Hagrid back at his hut. Harry was physically exhausted from the game but he wanted to know more about Flamel. “We'll have a look through the library. Hopefully we'll find something,” Harry suggested. “Well, I better go,” said Ron, obviously not too interested to spend time in the library. “Remember Ron, Don't tell anybody,” cautioned Harry. They left him at the Entrance Hall where he made his way into the Great Hall for lunch. “You look exhausted,” said Hermione worriedly. “Yeah, I might go for a quick lie down,” said Harry yawning.

Well, why don't you go up and stretch out on the couch in the common room and I'll bring you up some food,” proposed Hermione. Harry agreed and climbed the marble staircase out of sight. Hermione entered the Great Hall, furtively took some food, and made her way up through the castle. When she climbed through the portrait hole she laughed to herself as she found Harry sound asleep on the couch in front of the fire. She left the food beside the couch on the floor and went up to her dormitory to grab a book Hogwarts: A History. She sat down on a squashy armchair beside the fire and a slumbering Harry, and read until he awoke.

Another chapter, thanks for reading.

By the way, Harry knew how to do the spells such as Stupefy and so because he read about them in his extra studies. I thought you would have guessed that. And his super reflexes, well they're kind of like a spidey sense but think more of the Matrix when you read about them. God I love that film! Should I make Harry learn more about Judo? I have a good idea of how he'll do it.

I brought Ron a bit more into it, because he will be there at the end and he is an important character. Thanks for reading, every one of you. You make it easier to get up in the mornings, I swear.

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Fifteen

When Harry woke up a few hours later, it was already dark outside. The first thing he noticed was somebody had removed his hat from his head. The Gryffindor common room held a few students who were talking to each other in hushed voices, obviously studying.

Harry sat up slowly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. His muscles still ached from the match and he gingerly held his ribs as he stood up. He noticed there was some food lying beside the couch and remembered what Hermione had said to him about getting him some food. He then felt guilty for falling asleep.

He ate the food peacefully in front of the crackling fire. Harry had guessed that the fires were controlled by magic as he never saw anyone light them or indeed keep them going with logs.

The portrait hole opened and in climbed Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. They made their way over to him and congratulated him on the match. “Man, that was wicked the way you held that broom,” said Seamus excitedly, remembering the match fondly. “We all thought you were going to fall,” said Neville looking scared at the thought. “Hey you're missing dinner,” said Dean. Ron sat in silence and only joined in when they started talking about the rest of the match. Harry felt himself drift away from the conversation and made up his mind to go and find Hermione.

He waved goodbye to the others as he made his way out into the Fat Lady's corridor. He wondered where Hermione would be at this time. He remembered what Dean had said and made his way down to the Great Hall to check whether she was at dinner. He entered the brightly lit hall and made in the direction of the Gryffindor table. A lot of Gryffindors clapped as he went by, and he wished more than ever he had his hat. He didn't like the attention. The Weasley twins stood up in a very ostentatious manner. They then bowed graciously making Harry very embarrassed. When they sat down Harry realized Hermione wasn't at the table and so decided to search the library for her.

He left the Great Hall to more cheering and walked quickly to the library. A dead silence met him as entered the library. He could see no one except Madam Pince who was prowling the bookshelves like a sly fox. She gave him a piercing look as he made his way to the back of the library. Harry knew that look meant that if he dared to graffiti or even handle her books in any wrong manner she would be after him.

He found Hermione sitting at their table surrounded by heavy leather-bound books that were unusually dark colors. She was currently bent down low over one as if she was afraid someone would see what she was reading. She looked up as he made his way towards her. “Sorry I fell asleep,” he said sheepishly. She laughed it off saying it was okay. “I decided to start looking for Nicholas Flamel,' she whispered. Harry nodded his head and sat down. He pulled a few books towards him. “These books are a bit dark. There's even one with a few chapters on Dark Magic. You didn't take this from the Restricted Section, did you?' Harry enquired.

“Of course not! We're not allowed in there unless we have a teacher's permission,” she said in reply. “It's just I think that whoever Flamel is, he must be a powerful wizard and it might have something to do with Dark Magic, hence the reason they need the protection.” They spent the next few minutes in silence looking through chapters of enormous books. But they found nothing. Harry lit a small lamp that was situated on the table as it was growing ever darker in the library.

Then Harry remembered something. “Did you take my hat? When I woke up it was gone,” he said mystified. “Yes, I did,” she said bossily. Harry then knew something was annoying her and it wasn't their futile search. “Why did you take it? You have your own hat. Not that I mind sharing it or anything.” Harry asked, trying not to be rude.

“Because Harry. It is my belief that you are hiding behind you're hat,” she leaned forward over the table and Harry leaned in closer to hear her. She obviously had something important to say. “Harry, whenever we don't have to wear our school robes, you always put on your hat. You don't want to be seen but you shouldn't act like that because…” she paused wondering how to continue “because you're just as normal as everybody else and if you keep wearing that hat nobody will know how great you are.”

Harry sighed in defeat and leaned back in his chair. She was right of course. But still he wanted to wear his hat. He had grown used to it and he enjoyed walking around in big crowds without being pointed at or hearing the whispers of his name. “Oh, come on Hermione,” he moaned. “I need that hat. I wasn't hiding behind it…” he paused and then continued with a small smile “I was hiding under it.”

Hermione laughed and then removed the folded hat from inside her pocket. “Here,” she said holding out his hat. She moved her hand when he went to grab it and said “But...you can't wear it everywhere. Especially, when you're with me. It is forbidden from the library,” the both laughed as Hermione continued with her instructions. “And no wearing it in Gryffindor Tower.”

“You have my word, milady,” joked Harry as he took the woolen hat from her and put it in his pocket. They continued in silence but Harry felt that the mood was a bit lighter. “Hermione,” Harry said warily. She looked up at him questioningly. “What do your parents do?” he asked slowly. This might not be a very deep question or have any significance but to Harry it meant a lot. He had watched other people talk about their families with their friends and he knew that this was a two way street. If he asked about her parents or her family then she might ask about his.

“They're dentists. Both my parents are. They have their own surgery,' she said. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Harry asked, feeling as if he was pushing his luck. Hermione didn't seem too fazed by his questions though. “No, I'm an only child. My mum's darling and my dad's princess,” she added with wry smile. Harry seemed to think that was enough questions. He let out a breath he had been holding and Hermione gave him a worried look. “You know Harry. It's okay to ask about my family.” Harry smiled sheepishly at her. “Sorry, I just don't usually do it and Hagrid said it would probably help to talk about families after the Dursleys…” he stopped immediately feeling as if he had said too much. He looked away, anywhere but at her.

“Are they the family you stayed with after you're parents died?” Hermione asked cautiously.

`Yeah, my aunt…she's my mothers sister. She lives with her husband, my uncle Vernon and they have a son…Dudley…he's my age.” Harry paused, thinking. After all, Hagrid had said that he would find someone he could talk to. “They weren't the greatest family to grow up with. They're muggles and they never told me about my parents,” said Harry quickly. Hermione looked shocked at what Harry had said. “Nothing. Nothing at all!” Hermione exclaimed.

Harry told Hermione as much as he could about the Dursleys, which wasn't very much. He did talk a lot about Dudley and his gang bullying him. Hermione noted how he talked with a sharp bitterness about Dudley in particular. When he had finished he realized he was shaking. It wasn't from anger, it was from fear. He had never spoken his thoughts about the Dursley's openly. He spent the whole time looking at the table as he spoke.

He then stood up quickly which sent the wooden chair flying and startled Hermione who had been looking at him sympathetically. He took a step back and hit a bookshelf. He was still shaking slightly and he wondered what was wrong with him. He then turned and ran from the library feeling a deep self hatred, but he still couldn't figure it out. He ran through the empty corridors and bolted down staircases. He then ran into an empty classroom. There was a small fireplace which immediately erupted into a cracking fire. Harry ran to the opposite wall and slid down it cowering in the corner. The one thing that was eating away at his mind was that he didn't know what was wrong with him. He had never felt so much emotion. He knew that if he could have cried he would have. But he hadn't cried in years.

The door opened and Hermione walked in panting, she had chased him through the castle and she now knew how fast he could run. She took one look at him, closed the door and made her way towards him. She thought he looked very vulnerable. She bent down beside him. He looked away from her, feeling weak, something he had always fought against. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Harry,” she whispered softly `it's alright. You've never spoken to anybody about this. That's why you're frightened.”

He stood up and walked into the middle of the room. “I'm not frightened,” lied Harry. He hated how pathetic he sounded. Hermione followed him and again placed her hands on his shoulders, a bit more forcefully, making him look at her. “There's no shame in being scared. That's what you told me. You have been through so much. And everybody thought you were some hero. Some sort of saviour. You may feel weak, but I swear to you that you're not.” Harry knew she was telling the truth. Her voice quavered as she spoke. “The Dursleys did this to you. Most people grow up with someone to confide in. There should have been someone for you, Harry.”

And finally Harry knew what was wrong with him. Hermione was right. He never had anyone and he was scared, no, he was absolutely terrified. “What…what if there's never going to be anybody there?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Don't worry Harry. There'll be somebody. And….and now...I'm here. And I don't intend on going anywhere soon,” she said with a slight smile. He smiled sadly and whispered “Thank you.” They stood together in silence for a while, Hermione hands still on his shoulders.

“Please, don't tell anybody about this,” Harry pleaded. “Of course not,” said Hermione. `And thank you. For telling me. I know how hard this must be for you.”

“We'd better head back or we'll be caught out of bed after hours,” Harry warned. They walked back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. It was now very late and most students had gone to be. “Whoops, we never put the books back in the library. They're still there on our table,” said Hermione guiltily. “Well, there's nothing we can do now is there,” said Harry.

“Goodnight,” he said heading up the staircase leading to the boys dormitories. “Night,” said Hermione going to the girls dormitories. “Thanks,” the both said together.

Alright, you could barely call this a chapter but anyway I wanted to add it in just to bring out the characters a bit. I wouldn't call Harry OOC, this is another part of his character that he had hidden away and who better to bring this side of him out than Hermione. Believe me it's vital in their relationship. And don't worry; Harry will face his demons, in style too! He's not going to be scared a lot in the future. But the Dursley's did make him feel worthless.

Hope you like this `chapter'. Thanks for reading

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Sixteen

Christmas was fast approaching. Snow descended on Hogwarts one night as they all lay in their beds sleeping. It covered the grounds and nestled into the trees of the Forbidden Forest. The lake froze over sealing off the other world which lay in its depths. The sky was a brilliant white which reflected Hogwarts surroundings. It was only when Harry left the castle for his early morning run that he even noticed the snow. He stood on the steps leading to the Entrance Hall, completely dumbfounded by the sight which lay before him. He had never really witnessed snow. When it had snowed in Privet Drive, he was usually kept indoors. As it approached Christmas Day he was usually locked in his cupboard so that he had never really felt Christmas. He was determined to enjoy Christmas this year.

His footsteps crunched in the snow and he found himself running around the lake in pure joy, every now and again he let out a scream of happiness. He didn't mind as there was nobody around except himself. He had never felt so free, except when he flew his broomstick but this was different, something which he wouldn't always have. He stopped at the other side of the lake and took in its beauty. A breeze blew over the grounds and made its way toward the castle. Harry couldn't believe he had already been at Hogwarts nearly four months.

He remembered the other night when he had revealed a lot about his past life to Hermione. She had been so helpful and understanding. Harry was so grateful to her and knew she had meant it when she told him she wasn't going anywhere in the future. He vowed there and then that he wouldn't leave her and that he would protect her as long as he had a breath left in his body.

He was beginning to feel the cold breeze now that he had stopped running. His baggy grey sweatshirt wasn't enough to keep his body warm. He checked his watch and after realizing it was only half six he decided he would run until he was warm again and then head back to the castle. He pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up past his elbows; it was too big for him as it used to belong to Dudley. He had forgotten to throw it out of his suitcase as he had done with the rest of Dudley's old clothes. After another few laps around the lake he ran up to the castle. He felt refreshed and he jumped up the steps to the Entrance Hall.

After having a quick shower, he changed into his school robes and made his way to the Great Hall, still admiring the snow which he could see through the great wooden doors of the Entrance Hall. Many students had woken up already. They were now bustling around each others tables talking about the weather or what they had planned for the holidays. Harry didn't have to wait long until Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville arrived in the Great Hall. “Hey, Harry. What are you doing this Christmas? You staying at Hogwarts?” asked Dean. “Yeah,” Harry replied, not wanting to reveal he would rather spend Christmas at the bottom of the lake than go back to the Dursleys.

“Well, my parents are going to visit my brother Charlie in Romania. So, Fred, George, Percy and myself are going home to take care of my sister, Ginny,” explained Ron.

“Yeah, I'm going back home too. Gran always invites half the Longbottom family over. It's dead boring. Most of them have seen too many winters,” moaned Neville.

“I'm heading home too. Me ma always cooks a great feast through Christmas,” said Seamus, licking his lips at the thought.

“Yep, me too. Should be wicked, this Christmas. Hope it's snowing in Southampton,” said Dean.

They spent the rest of the time talking about the match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw had won by one hundred points which put them third in the race for the House Cup. Slytherin were leading the race with Gryffindor second. Hufflepuff were last, probably the reason their table was usually the most solemn and quiet. Hermione, when she came down took her seat beside Harry, and opened a large book and continued reading, making sure she didn't spill anything onto it.

“What do you think about the Gringotts break in? The goblins have said that it was definitely a dark wizard who did it,” said Seamus excitedly. Hermione stopped reading and looked up. “How can they be so sure?” she asked. “The traces of magic found at the vault. They all point to Dark Magic,” said Seamus. “My gran said it could be You-Know-Who. Or at least one of his followers,” piped Neville. They spent the next few minutes discussing the break in. But Harry nor Ron and Hermione mentioned anything of the package. It was only when the Weasley twins entered and told them they were a sad lot of first years talking about such things at Christmas that the conversation changed. Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione continued talking to the others; usually she would stop and continue reading.

When they were getting up to leave for class Fred whispered “Keep an eye out for Quirrell. We sent him an early Christmas present.” George then gave them a wicked grin and they both waved them good bye.

It was only when they had Defense Against the Dark Arts did they know what the twins were talking about. Professor Quirrell wasn't there when they entered the classroom so they took their seats and waited patiently. Suddenly he burst through the door and slammed it behind him, as if he was trying to keep something that was following him out. He looked tired as if he had been running and also a bit red in the face. His turban was askew and his robes a bit tangled. He made his way to the front of the class straightening his turban. He stuttered about how inconvenient the weather was and was beginning to teach the class when a snowball came flying through the window and smacked the side of his head. Then more snowballs streamed through the window and made in the direction of Professor Quirrell.

\The class roared in laughter and even Hermione who didn't usually like to insult or degrade a teacher couldn't help but smile as she watched Professor Quirrell run screaming down the corridor.

“Oh, that was classic Weasley, Ron. Thank your brothers for me,” said Seamus through fits of laughter.

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. The sky turned a deep blue and tinges of pink appeared on the outlines of the clouds. Harry and Hermione were sitting beside the jumping playful fire in the Gryffindor common room finishing their homework. Harry was just about to end his Transfiguration essay when he realized Hermione was looking at him apprehensively. “Harry… is it alright if I borrow Hedwig. It's just, I want to send my parents a letter,” she asked. “Of course it's okay,” Harry said immediately. Hedwig rarely got to go on a message for him. And when she did it was usually only down to Hagrid. She often dropped by to steal some of his food while he was eating breakfast, but other than that she stayed in the Owlery.

Hermione thanked him and told him she would give the letter to Hedwig later.

“Are you going home for Christmas?' asked Harry, secretly wishing that she wasn't.

“No,” she replied, grinning at the smile which Harry quickly tried to hide. “I'm going to stay here. It is my first year and the castle should be different, especially as most of the students will be returning home.”

“Yeah, most of the Gryffindors are going home,” agreed Harry. Inwardly he was jumping for joy. He had resolved to have a good Christmas and that he would celebrate it like it was his first, which technically, it was. But after listening to the others talk of going home he believed that he would spend it alone. But now Hermione, his best friend, was staying. “But we'll have a better time than they will,' finished Harry, a lopsided smile on his face.

Harry finished his Transfiguration homework and then asked whether Hermione wanted to give him her letter, so he could give it to Hedwig. She accepted as she had a lot of homework to finish so Harry brought the letter to the dark Owlery. He lit the tip of his wand in order to break the darkness. It shone in front of him illuminating the leaf-strewn, broken floor. The walls were a dark white as the lost paint fell in defeat to the floor. The room was circular and winded high into the air. The windows were empty so the breeze outside made its way in and ruffled the feathers of the owls. He called Hedwig to him and she flew down onto his outstretched arm. Harry began to tie the letter to Hedwig's leg. The light from his wand shone through the thin envelope so that Harry could see Hermione's neat hand writing through it. He paused for a moment wondering. Why did Hermione want to stay at Hogwarts through Christmas? Surely she would prefer to spend time with her parents. Would wanting to see what Hogwarts was like at Christmas be enough to keep her from her parents, her family?

He needlessly checked the door, he already knew nobody was outside as he would have heard them approaching. He then carefully opened the envelope, making sure not to rip the parchment or the envelope. He would only scan the letter for any mention of a reason to stay at Hogwarts; he wouldn't read anything else that was private. Dear Mum and Dad…blah blah blah…Harry read not wanting to see anything he wasn't supposed to…

The main reason I was writing this letter was to tell you that I won't be returning to you for Christmas. I'm having a better time now than I was when I sent you that letter just before Halloween. I know you don't mind me staying as you usually have a large crowd over at Christmas but don't worry because I won't be alone. I met this boy. His names Harry and he's really nice. He cares about his studies just as much as I do which is unusual as I've never met anybody like that before. He's different than everybody else here and he also helps me to fit in around other people. Anyway……

Harry sighed, placing the letter warily back into the envelope. She hadn't given a plain reason why she was staying to her parents either but he was beginning to think that he himself was a major factor in her decision to stay. He felt guilty but then again she didn't seem too troubled or sad about staying with him. If Harry was truthful with himself, he was sort of happy knowing that she wanted to stay with him over Christmas.

He watched Hedwig fly off, a silhouette against the rising pale moon. He then made his way back to the common room.

Over the next few days the snow outside the castle had doubled. Hagrid was to be found dragging a sleigh, which held tall evergreen trees, through the snow leaving behind a deep track. Students going to Herbology ran down to the greenhouses where they were met by a tropical climate. Others dreaded the cold dungeons with a miserable Snape who had caught a cold, and spent most of his time breathing over students or sneezing, which was truly terrifying as his nose was longer than normal.

But nothing could dampen the students' spirits as Christmas was approaching. The mood was a cheerful one every morning in the Great Hall. The number of owls carrying post to the students each day tripled as they were now carrying presents and orders. The castle also felt more cheerful and was willing to allow any student pass through a wall or a tapestry. The suits of armor were also very chatty and spoke to each other of Christmas' gone by.

Decorations started appearing in the hallways and classrooms. Professor Flitwick enchanted the cupboards in his classroom to sing Christmas carols every time they were opened. Holly and mistletoe hung from the corridors which the Weasley twins had taken advantage of. The mistletoe sprayed ink over preoccupied couples.

Harry found that most of the students started to hang out in bigger groups. He often found that he usually ended up with Ron, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Hermione. It was generally during eating times or when they had nothing else to do and had chess tournaments. Ron was a very good tactician and was a superb chess player. Hermione became irritated every time she lost to him; this was mainly due to Ron's boasting after every game. The Weasley twins often threatened to put Ron down a toilet if he wouldn't stop parading around the common room arrogantly.

Then one day Professor McGonagall visited every Gryffindor to take the names of those who were staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. Harry and Hermione signed up immediately and Harry after glimpsing the list realized that they were two of only six people staying at Hogwarts. It was reported that snow covered the greater part of Britain so that most people were going to have a perfect Christmas. Harry wondered whether Hermione was secretly regretting her decision but there was no sign of it. In fact she looked happier than usual. Classes finished a week before Christmas and students were scheduled to return home the next day. Harry found the rest of the boys in his dormitory packing their trunks with presents. Then they started carrying them down the stairs. Dean and Seamus went out first and Neville followed his face red from the struggle of carrying such a heavy trunk. Ron was about to lift his of the ground when he realized he had forgotten something and started looking for it. He opened his trunk and started rooting in it.

Harry quickly made his way over and pulled something out from under his bed. It was a book he had bought for Ron. The Weasley twins had suggested it to him and he had ordered it from Flourish and Blotts Flying with the Cannons.

He had wrapped it the night before and he felt that he had done a good job. He walked over to Ron who was trying to shut his trunk. “Er…here Ron, Happy Christmas,” he said quietly. “Oh, thanks Harry,” said Ron surprised. He took the present, looked at it trying to guess what it was and then put it in his trunk, all the while smiling. They talked for a while about what Ron had bought his family for Christmas and then Harry helped Ron carry his trunk down to the common room where it was left there over night with the others trunks.

The next day Harry helped Neville with his trunk down to the Entrance Hall. Harry stared in wonder at the hundreds of trunks that were piled in the Hall, covering the bottom of the marble staircase. They were all different colors and sizes. Some were bulging with the contents that it held. Harry and Hermione bade goodbye to Ron and the other Gryffindors and then made their way to the Great Hall. There were two Slytherins, one Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff. They all seemed to be much older than Harry or Hermione. Hermione gave Harry her theory as they took a seat at the table. “They must be doing exams this year. I know I would stay if I were doing them,” she explained. Harry agreed and started on his breakfast. There was no immediate rush to pile everything he wanted on his plate as Ron wasn't there.

For the next few days, Harry and Hermione had a wonderful time. They had snowball fights until neither of them could move freely from either being frozen into one position or because they were soaked through. Harry had never had a snowball fight and was quite surprised when Hermione had thrown a snowball right at his head. “What are you doing?” Harry had exclaimed. “Having a snowball fight, Harry,” Hermione explained while making up a fresh snowball. She had then told him that having a snowball fight was one of those things people did when it snowed and that if he didn't respond it was he who would be missing out. So Harry had countered by throwing a snowball at her as she explained. She looked outraged at being interrupted but then she threw a flurry of snowballs at him. Harry dodged some of them and reacted by using his wand to help gather a pile of snow which made it easier and quicker to throw snowballs. Hermione screamed and jumped out of the way. They were both laughing out loud and their shouts echoed across the grounds. Hagrid heard them and stepped out of his cabin to see the two figures running around in the distance. He chuckled at the sight, glad to see Harry was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Hermione had jumped on Harry sending them both to the ground. Harry groaned as Hermione rolled off him. She gathered a handful of snow and stuffed it down his jumper earning a quick shout from him. “Hermione!” he roared, stunned. Hermione stood up, a wide grin on her face and Harry chased her into the castle.

That had been two days before Christmas Day. Now it was Christmas Eve and they were to be found in the new temporary common room that Dumbledore had founded considering most people had gone home for Christmas. It was actually the girl's toilet where the troll had nearly killed Harry. As the whole place had been completely destroyed Dumbledore gave it a better use and redecorated it into a common room quite like the Gryffindor one. The six remaining students spent the evenings here rather than the house common rooms.

It had a large fireplace where a roaring bright blue and red fire burned. Tapestries with the Hogwarts crest hung from the walls and there was one large table where the students could do some of the homework they received over the holidays. A comfortable couch stood opposite the fire. Two armchairs also stood beside the fire, each with a blanket thrown over it for decoration. The common room was now dark with shadows roaming the walls. Harry and Hermione were the only ones there at the moment; the others had gone to bed. Harry sat on an armchair reading a book that contained more defensive spells; he had learned a lot of them now. Hermione sat on the couch reading Hogwarts: A History.

It was only when Harry looked up from reading that he noticed Hermione was fast asleep. She was in a sitting position with her head rested on her hand which was on the armrest. The book lay in her lap, one of her hands covering it. Harry would have woken her up but he didn't have the heart to. She looked very peaceful even though she seemed to be in an uncomfortable position. Harry placed his book silently on the ground and made his way over to her. He removed the book from her lap, picked up her legs and placed them on the couch so that she was in a lying position. She then moved in her sleep and turned over facing the back of the couch, sliding her legs up, her head now on the armrest. Harry took one of the blankets and threw it over her, tucking it in so she wouldn't get cold. He stood back and after looking at her for a moment he turned to read the clock that was situated over the fireplace. It read one minute past twelve. “Happy Christmas, Hermione,” he whispered as he sat on the other end of the couch. He took the other blanket from the other armchair and wrapped it around himself. He soon fell into a deep sleep beside Hermione.

I'm soooooooo sorry. I've been so busy. Anyway, I hope you like the chapter.

Hopefully I'll be able to make quicker updates from now on. Again sorry for extremely slow update.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading and review…………..please!

Take care,

Radagast.

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Chapter Seventeen

When Harry woke the next morning he was looking straight into Hermione hazel eyes. She was bending over him, her hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. It took Harry a moment to remember where he was and what had occurred the previous night. “Wake up, sleepy head,” said Hermione playfully. “Professor McGonagall woke me a few minutes ago and gave out to me for sleeping on the couch. Why didn't you wake me?” she asked irritably. “You looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart to,” Harry said sleepily not noticing the pink tinge in Hermione's cheek.

“Well you could've gone back to Gryffindor tower,' she retorted. She was folding the blankets and replacing them on the armchairs. Harry stayed on the couch lying back; he then sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes thinking about what Hermione had said. “But I wasn't going to leave you alone on Christmas Eve, was I,” replied Harry.

He stood up and helped put the cushions back. The two of them made their way back to Gryffindor tower and Harry had a shower. He then put on his best clothes, which he still didn't think were appropriate for Christmas and grabbed Hermione's present which he had also put under his bed.

When he made his way down the spiral staircase and into the common room he found Hermione waiting by the fire. She was in her clothes from last night and told him she would have a shower after the gift exchange. She had a wrapped object in her hand and was surrounded by other wrapped presents. “They must be for us,” she said looking around her. “Nonsense,” said Harry “I don't get presents from anyone. There's no one to get presents from,” he finished. Hermione stood up and strode over to him. She pushed the present from her hand into his. “Here, Happy Christmas Harry,” she said with a slight smile. Harry handed over hers and then went to sit on the couch. He opened the present and smiled when he saw a packet of Chocolate Frogs and also a black shirt. “Thanks,' he said. “Open yours.'

Hermione sat on the couch beside him while Harry examined the shirt Hermione had bought him. She knew he didn't have any good clothes and he was worried he wouldn't have anything descent to wear at Christmas. The shirt was probably more appropriate than a hoody or a tee shirt. He hoped that she liked his gift. He had bought her a book about the history of Hogsmeade, the little village situated on the outskirts of Hogwarts. He had also bought her a new feather quill, after she had lost her own one. “Thanks Harry. It's brilliant,” she said enthusiastically. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him in a very awkward hug. Harry had never been hugged in his entire life and was shocked when Hermione hugged him. He didn't move, he didn't even breath, Hermione quickly removed her arms from him though and an awkward silence fell between them. Harry didn't know what to say, if he thanked her she might think that he was an idiot. But she broke the silence by suggesting they should open their presents.

Harry was astonished to discover he had received some presents. He sat cross legged beside his presents, reached over and picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled on it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Harry ripped open the paper and found a roughly cut flute. He then picked up a package that looked as if there was more than one thing in it. He read the card To Harry, Happy Christmas. Thanks for the book, its great. A book I can read without falling instantly asleep! Well here is something from me and my mum also decided to give you something. Having a blast here. The twins are driving Percy mad. Again, Happy Christmas, Ron.

Harry opened the package to find a large box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. He also found some home made fudge. Harry was surprised to say the least. He had never really met Ron's mother yet she had sent him a Christmas present. Also it had been good of Ron to send him a present.

Hermione showed Harry the watch her parents had got her. It was a white gold watch and there were two crystals embedded in its face. It was only when Hermione had recovered all her wrapping paper did Harry realize there was one present left that must have been for him. He picked it up slowly. It was very light and soft. Harry unwrapped it slowly. Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor. Harry stood up and gasped as he realized what it was. Hermione stared at it also, obviously aware of what it was. “An Invisibility Cloak,” she whispered. “They're extremely rare. Also they're very valuable,” she finished warily.

Harry threw the Cloak around his shoulders and looked down at his feet. They had vanished. He took a deep breath and removed the Cloak from around his shoulders. “I wonder who sent it,” he asked thoughtfully. He was trying to figure out who would send him something so valuable. Hermione stooped down and retrieved a piece of parchment that had lain beneath the Cloak. She read it and a sad look crossed her face. She held it out for Harry to take. Harry read it and immediately a strange sense of loss overtook him.

Your father left this in my possession before he died.

It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

The note was written in narrow loopy writing that Harry didn't recognize. The sense of loss intensified and Harry sat back down on the couch. “Are you alright?” Hermione asked quietly. Harry didn't know why he felt this way. His parents had died so long ago and he had never had time to grieve for them as he was only a baby when they were killed. He hadn't understood. He had lived so long without them and now he was faced with a valuable possession of his father's. He looked down at the cloak in his hands and realized he was gripping it, his knuckles white from the pressure. This was the only thing that he had of his parents. Hermione leaned forward and asked her question again. “Are you alright?” Harry slowly looked up from the Cloak and gazed into her face. “I…I…” he was about to tell her how he had never seen his parents and try to explain how he felt, but he couldn't. It was Christmas and he didn't want to dishearten her. “I'm fine,” he said, in a voice not like his own.

Hermione stared at him and he got the feeling she didn't believe him but there wasn't much she could do at the moment. They talked about the sender of the Cloak for a few minutes, each making vague guesses as to who it could have been. Harry eventually folded up the Cloak neatly and brought it up to his dormitory with his other gifts. He donned his new black shirt and after a quick glance in the mirror came to the conclusion that he looked a lot more respectable. He made his way back down to the common room to find it empty, Hermione must be getting ready. He waited for a while until Hermione arrived down dressed in a pair of jeans with a light blue cardigan. It was only then that Harry realized he had never really seen Hermione without her school robes. “Er…you look nice,” he said somewhat nervously. She smiled and they both made there way to the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall.

A huge magnificently decorated Christmas tree stood in beside the doorway. The four house tables had all disappeared to be replaced by one long table where the remaining students were seated along with Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick (seated on a few cushions) and Sprout. Hagrid was sitting beside Professor Dumbledore. Professor Sprout looked cleaner than Harry had ever seen her. There was no fertilizer, muck or compost on her robes and her hair was neatly tucked away beneath her hat. Harry noticed immediately that only two free seats remained at the table. The seat closest was between Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall facing the empty seat between Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout. “I need to speak to Professor Sprout about our Herbology essay,” whispered Hermione quickly and made her way to the other side of the table. “Hello,” said Professor Dumbledore delightedly as Harry sat down beside Snape who was glaring at him. “It seemed such a waste to have four tables, when we would all fit comfortably at one. And after all Christmas is a time of togetherness.”

The table was groaning under mounds of roast potatoes, four roast turkeys and one huge leg of lamb. A boat of gravy lay in the middle of the table with large jugs with which they could scoop the brown liquid out. Cranberry sauce lay in the middle of the table with smaller teaspoons for use. Harry was a bit apprehensive to start eating. He had wanted to talk to Hermione but as she was sitting some distance from him and there was a turkey in his view he couldn't catch her eye. She was engrossed in a conversation with Professor Sprout. So Harry was left in a most uncomfortable position surrounded by two very silent figures. Professor Snape was piling food onto his plate. For a skinny creature he sure could eat a lot Harry thought.

Professor McGonagall had just finished dishing gravy onto her roast potatoes when she looked at Harry sternly; he hadn't touched anything on the table yet. He was looking at the dark rough texture of the table and looked deep in thought. She sighed irritably, reached over and started putting roast potatoes onto his plate. Harry was startled by her actions. “Really Potter, the food will not jump magically onto your plate,” she said angrily but Harry thought he saw her hide a smirk. Snape gave them a bored glance and started a conversation with a very happy Dumbledore who was smiling contentedly as he watched Harry's futile attempts to stop Professor McGonagall piling his plate with food. The other teachers were laughing as well as Hermione and a Hufflepuff.

When Harry had assured Professor McGonagall he was going to eat something she let go of the long silver spoon she was holding and returned to her own plate. Harry ate his dinner in silence and when everyone was finished, dessert was served. Harry had a small bit of treacle tart. He then spotted some pumpkin pie and stood up to reach over to get the last slice. At the same moment Hermione stood up and reached over with her fork.

They stood staring at each other for a moment, a smile playing across both their faces. Staring into each others eyes anyone would think they were having a fierce staring contest. The smell of the pumpkin pie was wafting up to meet their eager noses. “I dearly love pumpkin pie,” whispered Harry, trying to be mockingly threatening, but his lopsided smile failing him. “Then we're both in the same situation and I'm afraid I won't be sharing,” Hermione replied, her eyebrow raised and in the same voice as Harry.

Just then Professor Dumbledore leaned over and speared the last slice of pie on the end of his silver fork. “There will be plenty of time for pumpkin pie in the future,” he said, sitting back down in his seat, chuckling to himself.

I wasn't going to update this but the last line sort of finished the chapter if you know what I mean. I was feeling happy when I wrote the end of this so it sort of got fluffy.

I've been really busy and I'm happy I got this chapter out. Next chapter should be around the weekend.

Enjoy and thank you for reading and reviewing (cough cough)….sorry for the bad attempt at a joke.

Take care,

Radagast.

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Chapter Eighteen

After the incredible Christmas feast Harry and Hermione strolled back to Gryffindor Tower merrily. Harry had almost forgotten about the Invisibility Cloak, the amazing food had nearly driven it from his mind. But as he slouched onto the couch the memory of his fathers cloak returned and threatened to dampen his spirits once more. Hermione had taken a seat in a squashy armchair beside the cracking fire. She was curled up with the book Harry had bought her. He smiled as he watched her, if it wasn't for her he would probably be up in his dormitory on his own. “What,” she asked shrewdly as she caught him staring. Harry snapped out of his reverie. “Oh…nothing. Just thinking,” said Harry, cursing himself for not averting his eyes. Hermione returned to her book, her brow knitted in concentration.

They played a vicious game of wizard's chess, which ended with Harry's pieces nearly throwing themselves in the fire as his mind wasn't completely on the game. They then made their way outdoors into the freezing grounds. The students that had remained over the holidays had already started a snowball fight.

After hours of throwing snowballs, Harry was tired out. The sky remained cloudless but night had taken days place. The lights of the castle were lit so that thousands of windows shone out through the darkness. Harry made his way back to the castle, dragging his feet through the snow. His cloak was soaking from all the melted snowballs and his runners were also drenched. He was visibly shaking as they made their way through the empty corridors. Hermione looked at him worriedly. “Are you alright?” she asked. She had stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Harry! You have a cold. Why did you go outside if you were sick?” she asked hysterically. “I'm fine Hermione, I swear. I had it earlier on. Just wasn't this annoying,” he replied sneezing.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. She rolled her eyes at him as she watched him walk off sniffing. Harry stood in front of the warming fire, trying to get some heat back into his body. Hermione took her seat beside the fire and continued reading the new book Harry had bought her. After a while Harry sat down. He was warmer now but he was still sniffing and snuffling. His nose was itchy and his eyes were also sore. He kept putting his hands under his glasses and rubbing them, which really wasn't helping.

After two hours of listening to Harry blowing his nose, sneezing or sniffing, Hermione had had enough. She stood up and grabbed his arm. “Come on, Hospital Wing,” she said dragging him from his seat.

“Hermione,” he said “there's no need. I'll just sleep it off….”

He was still trying to convince her there wasn't any point going to Madam Pomfrey when they were standing outside the double doors which led to the Hospital Wing. “Please Hermione, its nearly nine o'clock.” Hermione knocked impatiently on the double doors which she regretted doing when she saw a very harassed looking Madam Pomfrey open the doors with a wave of her wand.

“Sorry Madam Pomfrey. Harry here has a terrible cold and I…he was wondering if you had anything for him to take,” said Hermione very politely. Harry just stood there silently and faked a smile when Madam Pomfrey gave him a suspicious look. He now had a really penetrating headache that felt as if there were small people inside his head using pick axes to get out.

The stern nurse went over to Harry and examined him. She pushed him back so that he was sitting on one of the white hospital beds. “Very well. We have a new cure for this kind of cold,” she announced delightedly. She had obviously been waiting a while to try this new cure. She acquired a long bottle of a strange glutinous black liquid. It seemed to be moving around the bottle of its own accord. Harry leaned cautiously away from the bottle. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and moved so that she wasn't near the bottle. As Madam Pomfrey poured the black liquid onto a spoon Harry saw that a grey fur grew slightly from the liquid.

Harry gave the spoon a disgusted look but couldn't do anything as Madam Pomfrey held the spoon right beside his mouth. He opened his mouth slowly and could taste the black liquid now. It tasted like furry licorice that was a century out of date mixed in with thick paraffin oil. Hermione cringed at the pained look that now occupied Harry's facial features. He seemed to hold it in his mouth for a few moments before he took one long swallow. He stopped all movement for a moment after swallowing the `medicine' then keeled over, his head hitting the pillow, and into a deep sleep.

Hermione rushed to his side under the illusion that something had gone wrong. “What's wrong with him?” she cried shocked. “Nothing,” said Madam Pomfrey “the potion induces sleep. He should be here for about an hour, when he wakes he might be a bit drowsy but he won't have a cold,” she explained. Hermione looked at Harry. He looked to be in more of a coma than anything else. Madam Pomfrey positioned Harry so that he was lying down on the bed.

“You better head back to Gryffindor Tower, dear. He'll be fine. I'll send him back after he wakes up,” said Madam Pomfrey as she realized how worried Hermione was. Hermione was about to argue but then seemed to reconsider and thanked Madam Pomfrey before she left.

An hour later and Harry awoke in the dimly lit Hospital Wing. He rubbed his eyes sleepily glad that his cold had been cured. Suddenly he felt a chill and sat up straight in the bed. He tried to look at the doors of the Hospital Wing but found that he couldn't see very well even though he had his glasses on. He felt dazed and his head swam a bit. “Pssst…”|he heard someone hiss. Harry removed his wand from his pocket immediately and stood up. “Harry! It's me,” said Hermione exasperatedly and removed the Invisibility Cloak showing herself. Harry really did think he was imagining things now. He looked at Hermione strangely then started to keel over. Hermione caught him just before he hit the cold floor. “Madam Pomfrey did say you would feel a bit out of it,” Hermione said putting Harry's arm over her shoulder. “Maybe you should stay here for the night,” she suggested. “No, I want to go back to bed, my bed,” said Harry, sounding very dreamy and not at all like himself.

Hermione conceded and threw the Cloak over them. “We might get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris. I think Madam Pomfrey left to go to London. She probably expected you to stay here. Are you sure you want to go back.”

“Yep,” whispered Harry. They left the confines of the Wing and made their way out to the moonlit corridors. The windows had snow packed up on their sills. Frost had made its way into the castle through the windows that had no panes of glass, so that as they walked they could see their breath before them. Harry was leaning heavily on Hermione and he looked as if he was trying to get rid of a headache. He kept blinking his eyes and shaking his head. As they rounded another corner they came face to face with Filch. They stopped dead in their tracks. His bulbous eyes roamed the corridor and passed them many times. He must have heard them. Hermione backtracked and led Harry through a series of doors and corridors.

“Where are we?” asked Harry confusedly. “I don't know. But I think Filch might come this way if we stay here too long,” whispered Hermione. Harry ducked out from under Hermione's arm and the Cloak and made his way over to a table. Hermione, terrified of his reckless actions, tried to grab him but he resisted. He lit a small kerosene lamp which shone out in the darkness. “We're in a classroom,' said Harry. He moved to examine the room but Hermione grabbed his arm. “You're obviously lost a bit of your mind so I'm going to bring you back to Gryffindor Tower,” she hissed.

“I don't want to go back,” said Harry sounding very much like a child. Hermione started pulling him back under the Cloak but he struggled and broke free of her grasp. Hermione was reminded forcibly of small child who refused to go to bed. Harry made his way into the middle of the room and Hermione was left standing beside the doorway. She could now see more and more of the room as Harry's light roamed the surroundings. It was then that she saw a huge mirror standing directly at the centre of the room. It looked magnificently across the room. It stood as high as the ceiling and had an ornate gold frame standing on two clawed feet. Harry slowly walked in front of it. Hermione could just make out his face from the light of the lamp. A look of pure shock made its way onto his face. He turned pale and then dropped the lamp. It fell to the ground with a great smash and Hermione caught a glimpse of the glass falling to the floor.

She felt Harry rush past her and out into the corridor again. She followed him as quick as she could but he didn't have a Cloak and could run faster. She threw the Cloak off her and shoved it under her arm and ran as fast as she could, praying that they wouldn't be caught. They made it back to Gryffindor tower without meeting anybody on the way. She found Harry sitting on the couch in front of the glowing remains of the fire. He looked to be back from his former state but still seemed shocked and pale. “What did you see Harry?' Hermione asked, deciding not to be angry at him for running visibly through the school. Harry didn't look at her, his eyes staring at the fire, thoughtfully. Hermione knew she wouldn't get anything else from him. She folded the Invisibility Cloak and rested it on a table. She was disappointed and worried he wouldn't tell her what had happened but nonetheless relieved to be back at Gryffindor Tower. She also felt extremely tired. “I'm going to bed,” she said “thanks Harry, for Christmas,' she finished, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. He turned slowly and looked at her. He had a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “No, I should be thanking you,” he said simply. She climbed the stairs up to her dormitory wondering what Harry had seen in that mirror.

Harry quickly made his way up to the boy's dormitories and searched for his black hoody. He found it at the bottom of his trunk, it was creased but he didn't mind that at the moment as he mainly wanted it for stealth, so that he could blend in with the darkness. It was better than his shirt as it was also quite cold in the castle.

It couldn't have been them. They were dead. How did he see them in the mirror if they were dead? He didn't even know what they looked like. She had your eyes and the man looked like you, he even had the hair a voice in his head said. No go away! fought the other side of his mind.

Harry barreled down the staircase and made his way to the portrait hole. He paused and spun around, his eyes landing on the Invisibility Cloak. He picked it up and let the smooth texture fall through his fingers. It was almost weightless but as Harry held it he felt as if it was growing heavier in his mind, as if it was calling him to put it on. He threw it over himself and made his way out of the portrait hole. “Who goes there?” said the Fat Lady mystified. Harry ignored her and made for the end of the corridor. He had remembered seeing the Statue of Dune near the room where the mirror was held. Mind you he hadn't remembered much more of his previous actions before he had seen the faces in the mirror. He hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself, especially in front of Hermione.

He walked silently through the castle listening attentively for any noise. He thought he heard footsteps far off and thought that his `super senses' were at play again. He could almost see Filch sneaking around looking through every room for an intruder in the castle. Harry spotted the Statue of Dune up ahead and looked to the empty doorways on his left. He found the right one and paused on the threshold of the room, again battling with himself for reasons to go through or to return to Gryffindor Tower. But in the end he realized that he had to know if it was them or not. He walked slowly into the room and found another lamp on the table closest to the door. He picked it up and, using wandless magic lit the lamp so that a flame was all that could be seen in the darkness.

He approached the mirror cautiously, his breathing was shallow but when he saw the faces of his parents staring at him from within the mirror his breath hitched so that for a few moments, no sound was heard in the room. The hand that held the kerosene lamp shook as Harry tried to register what was in front of him.

Half of him wanted to run; not wanting to believe what it saw. The other half felt as if some sort of invisible pressure had been removed. He had now seen the faces of his parents and he could in some way, move on. He wondered whether seeing them through a mirror was enough and knew deep down that it would never be. Was this mirror taunting him, showing him what he could never have?

The Potters stood hand in hand, smiling down at their only son. They smiled but Harry couldn't help but feel the sadness that issued from the smile. Did they yearn to see him?

He wanted to reach out and touch them, be he would not nor could he bear to reach out and find only solid glass and pain. Yet he stood there for many hours, still and silent. He felt at one time great angst and pain and yet also relief at seeing their faces. He was beginning to think the mirror actually gave what the seeker wished to see. There was no denying that he had hoped to see his parents. So he couldn't blame the mirror for giving him this, he could only blame himself.

“Well Harry, I see you, like many before you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised,” came a voice from the doorway behind Harry. Harry didn't move. He had felt Dumbledore approaching but he hadn't reacted, as at the moment he wasn't really thinking about anything except the mirror.

“Delights? Would you call it that, Professor?' Harry said quietly.

Dumbledore moved deeper into the room and stood just behind Harry. “I trust you know the power of the Mirror. Its effect over all of us,” Dumbledore asked.

“Desire,” Harry replied simply yet his voice shook. He hadn't taken his eyes from the mirror, part of him afraid to let go again.

Harry was beginning to feel angry at the effect the mirror had on him. The image seemed to freeze him so that he was powerless to counter its consuming effects.

“It shows what I could have had,” continued Harry, his teeth clenched. The hand holding the lamp was again shaking, the knuckles white. He felt as if there was some inner battle raging within him. Dumbledore registered how tense Harry's silent form had become.

“It shows what you should have had,” said Dumbledore gently. “Your parents' death was tragic and will never be forgotten by those who loved them. They were brave, courageous and honorable. Lord Voldemort saw this. I saw this. Many people did. Their death was an immense loss to the wizarding community but also especially for you. You have never met them and this is the first time you have laid eyes on them. But your parents effected so many peoples lives that they live on in the hearts of their friends and family, particularly you. You desired to see their faces but it has become apparent that you really wish to know your parents.”

Harry knew that Professor Dumbledore had spoken the truth and it brought little comfort. But he seemed to grasp his right conscious and took a slow step back from the mirror. He closed his eyes and kept them shut, burning the image of his parents' faces into his memory so he would never forget. His shoulders slumped and he realized he was breathing deeply. Dumbledore recognized how hard the struggle to turn away from the mirror must have been on Harry. He took him by the arm and moved him so that he could lean on a desk for support. Harry felt very weak and was thankful he had something to hold onto.

“The Mirror of Erised is a powerful tool, Harry. It gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Many great wizards have wasted away in front of it. Entranced by what they have witnessed in its depths,” said Dumbledore, his voice a mere whisper. Harry nodded his head in understanding.

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live,” suggested Harry trying to sum up Dumbledore's words. Dumbledore smiled. “Precisely.'

They stood in silence for a few moments. The shadows shifted as the moon became covered by the restless clouds. It was now approaching midnight. “Well Harry. I think it time you return to your bed. Also I hear you were treated by Madam Pomfrey and I assure you that more rest is needed if you are to be right by tomorrow.” Harry noticed the brightness had seemed to return to Dumbledore's eyes. He noted that Dumbledore was holding something out and recognized it as his Invisibility Cloak. “Very useful, wouldn't you agree,” he said chuckling. Harry smiled as he took it into his hands. |”Did you….?” began Harry.

“Goodnight Harry,' Dumbledore said a bit more forcefully but not threateningly.

As Harry turned to leave he saw Dumbledore return to the mirror. He looked into it and sighed. Then he conjured a white sheet and draped it over the face of the mirror. Harry made it back to his dormitory without interruption and only when he had climbed into his bed did he notice how tired he was.

He found it difficult to sleep and woke on more than one occasion dripping with cold sweat. His breath in gasps. When he awoke the next day he had heavy bags under his eyes. Harry and Hermione had planned to continue their search for Nicholas Flamel. Hermione didn't bring up the previous night in the little conversation they had while looking through the thick volumes, for which Harry was grateful.

They searched for what seemed like hours but no mention of Flamel could they find. Hermione was convinced that she had come across him before and so she left to search through her books in her dormitory. This left Harry on his own in the library. He finished searching the books remaining on his table and then went to search in the rows of bookshelves that had appealing titles. After searching the Defense Against the Dark |Arts row fruitlessly again he made his way to the row next to it. He was now tired of looking and if he was honest with himself he wasn't really looking for anything as he browsed in the Muggle Studies section. His eyes roamed the shelves and he was caught by a large blue book with gold lettering that read Judo. He immediately thought of his futile attempt to teach himself about two years ago.

He almost laughed at the image of nine year old Harry trying to practice Judo himself without a proper tutor. But he had to admit, it was useful. And now he had magic to help his also. He bent down onto his hunkers and removed the book cautiously from the shelf and opened it slowly. The inside was similar to the books he had read in Mr. Kravitovs' library. But after looking at it for a minute he realized that the pictures were actually moving. Now this ought to help thought Harry.

Once again Harry had the peculiar feeling that someone was watching or approaching him. He stood up quickly and turned to look at the end of the row of books. Madam Pince was eyeing him suspiciously. When Harry stayed strong under her piercing gaze she moved on. Harry quickly removed his wand from his pocket and whispered “Duplico” while pointing it at the book. A transparent replica of the book appeared beside the original. Harry watched as it became more solid. The spell only worked on books as far as he knew. He had found it in More Magical Methods.

He then put the original back on the shelf and put the duplicate furtively back into his school bag. He had only sat back down for a moment when Hermione came rushing in, holding an enormous book, whispering excitedly “I found him. I found him.”

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Chapter Nineteen

“The Philosophers Stone,” muttered Harry to himself. He stood under the shadows of the library, in the dark, deep in thought. “It certainly fits. An object that offers eternal life is invaluable and needs powerful methods of protection. Even Fluffy,” he said darkly. Hermione took a seat at the small table and placed her book gently on its surface.

She couldn't believe that after all this searching the answer had been right under her nose the whole time. “There hasn't been any sign of the Stone in over sixty years. Nicholas |Flamel himself is over six hundred years old. It seems that they have been trying to lessen the knowledge of the Stone. Well it's quite obvious now that someone is searching for it. And the creators are aware of the attempts on it.”

They stayed deep in thoughtful silence for a while until Harry suggested heading back to the confines of Gryffindor Tower. “Madam Pince looks a bit suspicious of us. I think the knowledge we hold is something the teachers or any members of staff shouldn't know about.” Hermione agreed and they made their way back to the common room. Harry read through the passage on Flamel once again trying to find anything new. As he comprehended the effects of the Philosophers Stone he became aware of how dangerous the situation was becoming. He suspected Snape of attempting to kill him, could this be the reason why?

Snape had talked about the glory of potions and how some potions could even stopper death.

Hermione was watching him from over by the fireplace. His keen green eyes were once again zooming across the page, he was deep in concentration and she knew not to disturb him. He still looked tired and she wondered whether he had achieved any sleep the previous night.

“Do you still think it was Snape who tried to kill me on the day of the Quidditch match?” Harry asked.

Hermione thought for a moment. `As much as I'd like to think differently, I saw Snape and he was definitely jinxing your broom. There is a good chance that it is Snape who is trying to steal the Stone. We better watch out for him. He might already think we know, hence the attempted murder,” she said finally. Harry moved over to stand in front of the fireplace, both hands in his pockets. “The stone was brought to Hogwarts for protecting. I bet the teachers are aware of its whereabouts. There is a chance that they had a hand in protecting it,” he suggested.

“That is unless the castle itself is supposed to be the protection. But I think you're right in guessing the teachers have a bigger role to play. It was brought here after it was nearly stolen from Gringotts after all,” said Hermione.

“Well,” said Harry moving over to the couch and plopping down onto it, his hands remaining in his pockets “I guess we'll have to keep a closer watch on Professor Snape,” he said with a wry smile.

The next day the students arrived back at Hogwarts and the castle was again buzzing with the voices of hundreds of excited students. Most people had had a delightful Christmas and came back with heavier trunks as they had more possessions. Harry was glad to hear Ron had had a wonderful time also. Ron and his brothers had had run of the house. Percy it turned out had ended up locking himself in his room in order to escape the twins, while their sister mainly stayed in her own room. On Christmas day, Ron's parents had returned with their older brother Charlie so that it was truly a family occasion.

Harry and Hermione had told Ron about the Philosophers Stone the second day of his return. They had felt obliged to do so as he was there when they found out about Fluffy and he also knew the truth about Snape. He was shocked at first but also intrigued by the effects of the Philosophers Stone. `Eternal life and turns any metal into gold. Anybody would want that,' he said astonished. He accompanied them down to Hagrid's one evening after a particularly bad Potions lesson in which Snape had nearly slipped on a potion Neville had let drip from his cauldron and in retaliation he had taken thirty points from Gryffindor. This was crucial as the House Cup was getting very close.

Harry knocked loudly on Hagrid's large wooden door. There was some shuffling from inside the cabin and Harry could almost see Fang scratching the door trying to get out. Hagrid opened the door widely holding onto a struggling Fang who was franticly trying to reach them. “Its bin a while since ye all came down to see me,” Hagrid said greeting them. When they had taken their seats at the round table and Hagrid had poured four mugs of tea, Harry decided it was time to ask about the Stone. He cleared his throat nervously, not knowing how Hagrid would react. “Hagrid, we know about the Philosophers Stone.” Hagrid looked up at them over the rim of his mug. He then sighed despondently. “Well after me slip up, it probably wasn't that difficult. Listen to me, its bin protected…… and protected well,” added Hagrid. He seemed to find this information comforting. But Harry wanted to know what was involved in the Stones defense.

“So…apart from Fluffy what else is there?” asked Harry hopefully. Hagrid looked at them suspiciously, seemingly sizing them up. He then took a long gulp of tea and set his mug on the table. “Well, a few teachers added something to the safeguard of the Stone. Me, I gave Fluffy. Then there was Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor Quirrell….Dumbledore of course and Professor Snape,” he finished, obviously pleased to have remembered them all. Ron had a look of pure shock on his face. “Snape. That psychopath is guarding the Stone.” Hagrid heaved a great sigh of frustration. `Ah, yer not still goin on abou' Snape. Listen he guardin' it. He aint going to steal it.”

Harry had already guessed that Snape had something to do with guarding of the Stone. “What did the teachers do?” he asked. He wanted the most information he could attain from Hagrid as he was obviously in a very good mood. “Spells and enchantments,” he said gruffly as if he didn't want to stay on the subject too long.

Later that evening as the sky turned a velvety blue color, Harry and Hermione sat at a table in the Gryffindor common room talking quietly about what Hagrid had said. Ron sat with Seamus, Dean and Neville in front of the fire. Other students were playing chess or gobstones. “Snape probably already knows about the other enchantments,” said Harry. Once again Hermione thought that he was speaking to himself more than anyone. “I don't think anyone but us suspect him. Right now we're the only protection that the Stone has.” He turned his head so he was looking her straight in the eyes. His gaze seemed to give her strength and take it away at the same time. “Do you want to continue trying to impede Snape? It will probably get a lot more dangerous in the following months. It seems he is only planning his actions at the moment.”

Hermione's brow furrowed. “Of course I want to stop him, Harry. But you're right. It will get dangerous. But for now there isn't much to do. I mean we can't go and inform a teacher. I suppose we could monitor his interactions with the helping teachers,' she suggested. Harry thought about Hermione's words. After a few seconds of silence he spoke but in a whisper. “There might be some tension between Professor Quirrell and Snape.”

He told her of the day near the beginning of the year when Quirrell had interrupted Snape's class. “Snape was really annoyed. It doesn't fit. Potions classes get interrupted quite a lot because students want ingredients for other teachers. Why was he so annoyed at Quirrell that day in particular?” Harry posed this question and then remembered Quirrell's contorted face of venom as he walked in the door. “There's more to Quirrell than meets the eye,” he said darkly. “What do you mean? Do you think they're working together? Hermione said confusedly. “I don't think so. Quirrell doesn't seem the type,” she said decidedly.

But as Harry climbed into bed that night, he wondered whether Quirrell was the `type'. He was pretty sure that they weren't working together. Maybe both of them wanted the Philosophers Stone for themselves. It didn't seem like an object to be shared.

\

January passed by without event. The snow melted and the black lake unfroze itself. The progressive ripples of the Giant Squid could be seen making their way to the edge of the lake. The Forbidden Forest took on its dark demeanor, shedding the snow from its long branches and once again becoming a menacing presence on the Hogwarts grounds. February arrived bringing with it gusty winds from the south. Leaves from the Forbidden Forest were blown to the edges of the castle and Harry often found himself wondering silently, what lay in the depths of the dark forest that passed it as forbidden.

Harry and Hermione had held their word and unknowingly kept an eye out for Snape. From observation he had stopped all dealings with the Stone. They found nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. Ron had often helped but after a month he had given up, seemingly convinced that Snape had stopped whatever he was doing. Hermione seemed to be returning to her normal routine before they had suspected Snape. Harry wasn't really upset by this. She cared very much for her studies and was already fretting about their end of year exams. They returned to spending more time in the library than any other students, pouring over their text books and other minor study of subjects that they would take in the future.

But Harry didn't end his watch of Snape. He also remained wary of Professor Quirrell. Whoever the infiltrator was, Harry was sure it was either one of them. He still felt that there was something deeper involved though. A shadow weighed on his mind about the safety of the Philosophers Stone. Something was keeping the thief at bay, but he didn't know whether he was hindered or whether he was waiting.

He hadn't done anything about his Judo training since he had found the book. The Philosophers Stone preoccupied his mind for much thought. But at the beginning of February Harry received news that nearly drove all thought from his mind. He had been finishing a Charms essay about the unlocking charm when Oliver Wood came running into the library, spotted him, and made a beeline for his table. He seemed to be thoroughly upset by something. `Listen Harry, we're going to have to set up more training sessions before the match on Saturday.” Harry knew something else was bothering Oliver. `Why?' asked Harry suspiciously. `Because I just heard Snape is referring the match. And it's obvious all his decisions will go Hufflepuffs way.” Hermione gasped. `Snape.” She gave Harry a horrified look. Harry remained silent, wondering why Snape had suddenly become interested enough in Quidditch to decide to referee in a match.

Oliver left their table and made his way out of the silent library. “Harry, you can't play. He's doing this for a reason. What if he tries to jinx your broom again?” Hermione said worriedly. Harry thought about his options, there didn't seem to be many. “If he suspects us of knowing, my not playing would just confirm his beliefs,” he paused and seemed to fall deep in thought, then “I'm playing this match.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “We've been watching him for over a month now. And he hasn't done anything. Maybe he is getting ready. Maybe something will happen at the match. Oh! I just don't know,” she cried before slumping back into her chair with a deep sigh. Harry finished his essay quickly and after convincing Hermione that he would live through the match on Saturday, he left the silence of the library and went back to his dormitory. He grabbed his Judo book from his small bedside locker and shoved it into his bag/. If he was going to learn, now was the best time to do so. It was only when he had entered the corridor outside the Fat Lady's portrait that he realized he had no idea where he was going to practice. As he was contemplating the Quidditch pitch, a scraping noise could be heard coming from the other end of the corridor. A bookcase was leaving the solid wall and a small arch could be now seen where the bookcase had stood. The Weasley twins strolled out from behind the bookcase talking animatedly. The bookcase moved itself into its previous position. From looking at them, Harry guessed that they were used to taking this passage, he had heard from Ron that the twins knew their way around Hogwarts and also they knew many secret passages and previously unknown rooms. Harry decided to ask whether they could suggest anywhere with a sizeable amount of space.

He ran up to them and they both looked up surprised. “Harry!” said Fred, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulders. “How are you?” Harry was quite surprised at their welcome. `Er…fine thanks,” he said. “Listen…I heard you two were quite knowledgeable of the layout of Hogwarts,” he said, trying to sound complimentary. Both the twins smiled with pride. “Why...yes we are,' said George. “And you know some secret passageways and possibly some secret rooms,” continued Harry, praying the twins would take the bait. The twins looked deviously at each other. `Well Harry…what kind of place are you looking for,' whispered Fred. “A room with a large amount of space. Not huge, just…” he paused wondering how to proceed without telling them what he was doing, “I'm practicing spells,” he said finally.

The twins fell silent, going through the map of Hogwarts in their heads. “Well…it seems to me, you don't want anyone to know what you're doing,” said George with a grin. Harry nodded his head. Once again the twins looked at each other. They then dragged Harry by the arms over to the bookcase, waited for it to open, and then walked in. The bookcase again closed back over the wall. They were in complete silence now. Harry looked down the passageway. It was dark and there was no light of a flame to illuminate the passage. “This here passage,” said Fred motioning to the darkness with a wave of his hand “leads up to the seventh floor. It isn't that far but it is harder to manoeuvre in, while in the dark. Its exit is a tapestry and the password to get back down is `Otinate'. Now on the seventh floor, there is a room. I doubt many know of its existence, which is why we are suggesting it to you. We like to call it the Room of Requirement.”

“You see,” explained George “the room isn't always there but when you need it, it will be. When you enter the room, it changes to suit your needs. For example, a few weeks ago, when running from Filch we ran into it and it took on the appearance of a broom cupboard. If you wanted say…” he paused trying to think, “to hide something, well it would probably give you a place to hide whatever it is you wanted to hide,” he finished with a look that seemed as if he had just confused himself. Fred rolled his eyes at George “Nice explanation, idiot. Okay listen…the entrance to the room is opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The trick is to walk past the wall three times, concentrating hard on what you want the room to be. Then all you have to do is walk through the door,' he finished simply.

Harry thanked them as they made their way out past the large bookcase. He then lit the tip of his wand and walked into the darkness. Form the little light that radiated from the end of his wand Harry could tell the passage walls were cut from roughly hewn stone. Often a piece of hard rock jutted out from the wall so that Harry would have to bend low and walk under it or else climb over it. Soon he came to some steps. He lifted his arm and the light bounced off the roof of the passage which was now sloping upwards. Harry began to climb the narrow stairway. The steps were broad and shallow and Harry counted a hundred of them until he reached a point where the ground levelled out. He then walked through the tapestry and found himself in a dimly lit corridor. There wasn't a sound to be heard and he doubted whether anyone else was on this floor. He replaced his wand in his pocket and walked steadily through the corridor looking for the tapestry. He found it easily as it was enormous. Then he turned and looked at the wall opposite him which stared blankly back.

He did just as Fred had told him to and repeated the words “I need somewhere to practice Judo” in his head. But at the back of his mind he had doubts. He kept wondering whether there was any point trying to learn without anyone to advise or help him. When he looked back at the wall he found a large wooden door. It had a jet black keyhole and a round handle. Harry slowly pushed the door open and entered the room. He gasped at the sight before him. It wasn't really a room. It was more of an arena. White mats lay on the floor. Four wooden pillars connected with thick wooden beams that crossed over an arch in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were smooth and as white as snow. The door Harry had entered was the only entrance or exit to the arena. It creaked back into its original position and shut. Harry turned to look at the door and found an ornate black key in the keyhole. He turned it and it clicked ominously. He walked around the arena once, and then went to leave his bag in the corner. After he slid the bag off his shoulder and onto the ground he turned and nearly jumped out of his skin from fright.

There, standing directly in the centre of the arena was a dark skinned man. His eyes were shut and Harry noticed he wasn't breathing. The man wore a blue judogi which Harry recognised from what he had seen in Judo books. Harry took a tentative step toward the man and still the man did not move a muscle. Now Harry stood right in front of him, in plain view. The man still would not move. Harry decided to be brave and stretched out his arm in order to touch the man's shoulder. But as his hand reached the jacket it went right through the man. The man seemed to flicker in and out of sight and Harry retracted his arm. Harry stood breathing deeply looking at the silent figure of the man. He wondered whether the man was a holographic image. If he is, he isn't going to be much help with training thought Harry. He then got a sudden idea.

He balled his hand into a fist, took a deep breath and aimed a punch at the head of the man. Immediately the man came to life. His eyes sprung open and his arm moved so quickly that it caught Harry's fist. He then pulled back Harry's fist and aimed a side kick at Harry's stomach, which sent Harry into the air. He crashed down onto the mat and rolled over so that he could look at the man. He was shocked to find him in his initial position. He picked himself up off the mat and wondered to himself what he was supposed to do. Bow he thought. He walked cautiously up to the man and bowed. The man copied Harry and then took a step back from him as if preparing to fight. Harry looked down at his clothing, astonished to find he was wearing a white judogi. Harry took a step forward and his opponent grappled him. He then fell backwards onto the mat so Harry was thrown head over heels and landed sprawled onto the mat. The man was already on his feet.

Reflexes said a voice in Harry's head. Harry stood up quickly and wished that he had his other sense. He wasn't expecting it to work and when he felt the very air of the room seem to slow down he stood rooted to the spot, shocked. Was this magic? Then he watched as his opponent went to grasp him. Harry ducked under the man's outstretched arms. Then from the side Harry grabbed the man's shoulder and placed his foot directly behind the man's. He then pushed the man who fell back over Harry's legs and slammed into the ground with force. Harry flushed with success didn't notice the man's legs slide across the padded mat. Harry was swept off his feet and fell to the ground. But he jumped back up just as the man did. His opponent then tried repeatedly to hit Harry but Harry ducked and blocked his attempts. This continued for quite a while and Harry was out of breath by the time his opponent stopped.

He had pushed Harry to the edge of the mat and as soon as Harry's foot had touched the mat the man had immediately appeared again in the centre of the room. Time immediately returned to normal. Harry realised he was back in his school robes. But he was out of breath and also sweaty. His hair was very messy, well messier than it usually was. He straightened his robes and checked that his wand was still in his pocket. He made his way over to his bag, picked it up and threw it over his shoulder which he regretted as he was still in a lot of pain. With one last glance at the now silent figure he left the room, wondering if his training would always be that good. Fine, he had taken a good beating but he also felt as if he had learned something. He would have to thank the twins again for their help.

As soon as he was back in the corridor he realised that he was out of bounds after dark. If Filch caught him, it would be the end of him. He quickly crept down the corridor to the tapestry. “Otinate,” he whispered. He ran down the steps and along the passageway. His footsteps echoed in the dim silence but he doubted whether anyone who would hear him, would know where he was. He entered the empty common room and made his way over to the couch. He was absolutely exhausted. He dropped his bag onto the floor and climbed onto the couch. His mind felt like jelly and he seemed to lose focus as he put his head on the armrest. He stared into the kindling fire and soon fell fast asleep.

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Chapter Twenty

Over the next few days, the Gryffindor team trained restlessly. They knew that having Snape against them would reduce their chances immensely. Oliver Wood had become consumed by the upcoming match and was often hysterical during their training. Harry felt completely drained in the evenings after hours of classes and then having to take orders from Wood. He hadn't endured anymore Judo since his last trip to the Room of Requirement. The match against Hufflepuff was set to take place on Saturday. If Professor Snape wasn't the referee, Harry would have approached the match in much better spirits. Hufflepuff had a good team but were nothing compared to Gryffindors team.

The way the House Cup stood, Slytherin were first but not many points separated them from Gryffindor. Slytherin had lost their match against Ravenclaw which put them at three hundred and fifty points. If Gryffindor won against Hufflepuff then they would be at four hundred, therefore taking the lead. As Wood had reminded them constantly, it had been over seven years since Gryffindor held the top spot of the House Cup and it now rested on their shoulders to renew its glory.

Hermione was fretting over Snape. She had given up trying to stop Harry playing and informed him the night before the match that she would take her wand with her and keep close watch on Snape. Harry was getting quite nervous himself. He felt like he was walking into an unknown danger that could only be felt. He didn't know what to expect from Snape and could only hope that nothing would go astray.

As Saturday dawned a low mist lay on the land. The grass was dewy and the air was moist. The sun hung in the sky like a beacon, but it was pale and the sky was an empty grey. Breakfast was a quiet affair for the Gryffindor team and when Snape entered the Great Hall, he received a number of glares from the table.

A resounding bell rang from somewhere in the castle. The Gryffindor team stood up and prepared to leave for the stadium. Harry glimpsed Oliver Wood; pale faced making his way out of the Great Hall. He knew how much Oliver wanted this and Harry wouldn't let Snape get in the way of his or anyone else's dream. As Harry rose from the table he caught Ron's anxious look. Hermione and Ron were the only ones who knew what having Snape near Harry meant.

Harry turned to leave but Hermione grabbed his wrist. “Please take care of yourself,” she said pleadingly.

All Harry managed was a reassuring smile before he made his way silently down the aisle between the two tables. The sun was still struggling to shine over the grounds as Harry retrieved his Nimbus Two Thousand from the broom shed. He then made his way into the changing rooms and pulled on his scarlet Quidditch robes. He could hear the footfalls of the hundreds of students outside and wondered would Snape act in front of a large crowd of people. Wood gave his usual pre match analysis telling the team who to look out for. He warned them to play the cleanest game of Quidditch they had ever played, therefore not giving Snape fuel to start a fire.

They made their way out to the pitch and the roaring from the crowd reached their ears. Harry could almost feel the beating of the voices in the ground. The wind was whistling through the stands and Harry had an image of far away seas and of restless waters. He turned to see Professor Snape looking as sallow as ever, eyeing him with a strange look Harry had never witnessed. It wasn't fury or anger, more of a curious look. He quickly looked away and caught Oliver shaking hands with the Hufflepuff Captain. The balls were released and the game began.

Harry immediately flew after the snitch, dodging a few Chasers. He evaded a Bludger and lost sight of the snitch after that. He looked around and saw Snape searching the stands. But he didn't have enough time to see what stand as he ducked another Bludger.

He was panicking now as a sudden thought hit him. What if Hermione was in danger too? She also knew about the Philosophers Stone. He flew higher into the air and circled the stadium trying to find Hermione. She was staring at the game biting her finger nails in anticipation. She looked up at him for a moment, worry etched on her face. Her eyes seemed to burn into him and a sudden urge to fly down to her caught him, he didn't know what it was. He had never felt that way. He pulled his eyes away from her, feeling suddenly weak and exposed. He had to end it. If the match was finished then the danger would subside.

He flew lower into the stadium. Sometimes the snitch would fly near another player so as to avoid capture.

He was becoming distracted by small things like the Weasley twins gold watches or gold bracelets worn by the female players. Just as he was about to change direction he spotted the small golden ball whizzing by Oliver Woods head. The Hufflepuff Chasers were making a move on the goal and Snape had progressed up the pitch. Harry shot towards the snitch which switched directions again and went straight towards Snape. Harry only had a few seconds to think about his next move and decided to follow. He dived and then levelled his Nimbus out so he and the snitch were now in a straight line. All he had to do was grasp it but Snape was now right in front of him.

There was no sound as the crowd held their breaths anxiously watching Harry heading for a head on collision with the Potions professor. But Harry leaned forward, one hand in the air, and grabbed the snitch. He then pulled with all his might and missed hitting Snape by mere centimetres. Hufflepuffs spectators groaned defeated and Gryffindor roared ecstatically.

When Harry landed on the soft grass he was out of breath. Oliver then rushed over excitedly and pulled him into a manly hug. “We did it. First for the Cup now, Harry. First!” Harry smiled feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a while. Ron came barrelling over and slapped Harry on the shoulder, then his brothers grabbed him into a family hug.

Gryffindors streamed onto the pitch, cheering and shouting delightedly. They gathered around the team and started chanting. Harry couldn't hear their words though. He fought his way from the smothering crowd and started searching frantically for Hermione. He hadn't seen Snape. What if he had gone after her?

People started getting angry at him and giving him dirty looks as he pushed past them and shoved them out of the way. He couldn't see her anywhere. He made it out onto the side of the pitch where nobody stood, suddenly feeling an emptiness deep within him. “Harry,” said a voice behind him. Harry spun around and exhaled deeply as his eyes landed on Hermione. He was so relieved he could barely speak. She gave him a confused look that started him into speech. “I thought…maybe…Snape…you know,' he said, finishing lamely. She actually seemed pleased that he had been worried.

“Thank God that's over. It was a great catch. For a moment I thought you were going to fly into Snape,” she said. “So did I,” said Harry darkly.

They walked slowly back into the crowd. It was only then that Harry noticed that Hagrid wasn't present. “Did you see Hagrid at all?” he asked puzzled by his absence. Hermione also looked around over the heads of the students. `No, I didn't see him during the match either.”

Ron broke away from the raucous crowd, a smile plastered on his face. “Hey Ron, did you see Hagrid,” Harry asked uneasily. Hagrid had been to every game since the beginning of the year and Harry knew he was a Quidditch fan. Ron's smile faltered as he tried to think if he had seen the giant of a man. “Nope I don't think so. But you should have seen Snape. He looked right pissed,” he then saw their anxious faces. “Why don't we go down to his hut?”

They agreed and Harry got changed quickly. By the time he had come back out the crowd had moved toward the castle. Harry once again put his broom in the shed and then made his way down to Hagrid's hut. The lights were on which was a good sign and when they got near the door they could hear shuffling coming from inside the wooden door. Harry knocked on the door. “Who's there?” Hagrid barked back out at them. Hermione looked quite shocked while Ron looked affronted. Harry took no heed of Hagrid's evasiveness. “It's us,” he shouted back through the door. There seemed to be a pause then “Listen Harry…I'm a bit tied up at the mo….I migh' get t'see ye next week or sumthin'.”

Harry looked confusedly at the door. “Hagrid…is something wrong,” Harry said, fearing something had gone wrong with the protection of the Stone. “Jus' come back later on in the week, `k Harry,” said Hagrid's voice impatiently. Harry thought for a moment. “Let us in, Hagrid, or I'll take the door down,” he said finally. He was becoming terse and wanted to know what Hagrid was up to.

Ron was looking at Harry, wide eyed, as if he had gone insane. Hermione stood silently not making a move. Then she seemed to find her voice “Harry,' she said as if trying to calm a ferocious creature down, “maybe we should…just go,” motioning towards the castle with a wave of her hand. Harry took a step away from the door and whispered “Hermione, he might be keeping something from us. What if somebody threatened him?”

Hermione didn't know what to say. He seemed to be very concerned. The clouds overhead seemed to darken and the sun was completely smothered. A shadow spread across the grounds. “Okay,” said Hermione, earning a frightened look from Ron. “But try and get him to allow us in first,” she pleaded.

Harry once again stepped up to the door. “Hagrid, we're not leaving. So you can either let us in or….we….er…break the door down,” he said pathetically. There was a scraping noise and then the sounds of a lock being unbolted. Hagrid looked somewhat sad but there was a strange gleam in his eye. “I suppose ye can c'min,” he said beaten.

The three of them entered the small cabin apprehensively, but stopped on the threshold when they saw what lay on Hagrid's round table. Hagrid quickly pushed them through and shut the door behind them. The remnants of a huge black egg lay cracked on the table. And standing amid the remains was a small dragon. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body and it had a long snout with wide nostrils, stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes. Hermione gave a small whimper as if she was on the verge of tears. Ron looked at the dragon in awe mingled with fear. Harry gulped wishing he had taken Hermione's advice and just gone back to the castle. “A dragon,” said Harry hesitantly. “He must've cost you a fortune, Hagrid. Where did you get him,” asked Ron, completely ignoring Harry.

“I won him down the pub. Some Irish bloke had too much to drink and then wanted to play a game o' cards. Bad combination, “he said merrily. Harry had a feeling that Hagrid was quite proud of this. He always had known that Hagrid liked magical creatures. Whenever Harry had a query about a creature he was studying Hagrid seemed to have the answer. But he didn't think that Hagrid would go this far.

“I can't believe this. A Norwegian Ridgeback. They're quite a rare breed,” declared Ron.

Harry looked at Ron with raised eyebrows. “My brother Charlie. Dragon keeper,” stated Ron.

“Gonna call him Norbert,” announced Hagrid with tears in his eyes. “You can't keep him!” cried Hermione. “You live in a wooden house,” she exclaimed, waving her hands at the walls which had roosters, pots and pans hanging out from them. “Hermione's right, Hagrid. Dragons evolve at an alarming rate. Soon he's going to be bigger than your house,” explained Harry. Hagrid then became very evasive. They spent the next few minutes trying to persuade Hagrid to come to a compromise about Norbert but he wouldn't budge. He wanted to keep him. “I've always wanted one. Ever since I was a small lad,” he expressed, tears now making their way down his cheeks into his tangled beard.

Ron who was fascinated at first by Norbert became less enthusiastic when Norbert tried to chew his hand off. It didn't help that every time Norbert sneezed, a great spurt of flame issued from his snout.

“We have to do something. If he keeps it, it'll kill him,” Ron said fearfully. They were sitting in an empty classroom trying to come to some sort of solution to this horrific problem. A chill wind blew through the castle and made its way into the dark classroom. Hermione shivered in the cold. Harry removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. She smiled sweetly and thanked him. Harry knew from the way she didn't object that she was indeed freezing.

“First the Philosophers Stone, then this,” said Harry irritably, going to sit on a table. “We have to try and convince him to give Norbert up,” said Hermione earnestly.

“Excuse me, were you not there. We just tried to do so. He's not going to just release him into the wild, Norbert would be killed instantly,' exclaimed Ron.

“You don't have to be so rude,' retorted Hermione. Ron was about to answer but Harry quickly intervened. “Stop it. The two of you. This is no time to argue amongst yourselves. We have to deal with this problem first.”

Suddenly Harry got an idea. “Charlie,” he muttered. “Ron,” said Ron emphasizing the name as if teaching words to a five year old. Harry looked up at Ron. “No, your brother Charlie. Can't he take Norbert? You said yourself that he was a rare breed,” clarified Harry.

Ron thought for a moment. “I'll write to him and see what he can do. I'm pretty sure he'll want to take him. That's a great idea,” said Ron impressed. “But what about Hagrid?” said Hermione worriedly. “He won't want to let him go.”

They stood there in silence for a while, each of them thinking through plans to persuade Hagrid. It wasn't going to be easy but they had to get rid of Norbert or Hagrid would be either sacked or killed. Darkness had quickly descended on the castle and the windows were plastered with a deep blue sky. Pale stars were beginning to appear over the edge of the menacing forest. “One way or another Hagrid will see that he can't tame Norbert,” said Harry.

“The question is,” said Hermione staring out through the window at Hagrid's small hut “how long will it take him?”

Hagrid nearly lasted a week before he conceded that Norbert would be better off in a place where he could act like a dragon and not a killer pet dog. Charlie had written telling Ron that it would be no problem and he would be grateful to receive such a notorious breed of dragon. He was sending over a group of workers who would collect Norbert and bring him to London. From there he would be transferred to Romania.

Hagrid took some nasty bumps during the week. His house was set alight three times, Harry having to extinguish the fires with a Watering Charm. Norbert liked to chew on almost everything. Hagrid's table, chairs, bed, kettle and fingers were just some of Norbert's favourites. Hagrid had almost stopped his game-keeping duties altogether, being too busy hiding and feeding Norbert. Harry and Hermione also with Ron made regular trips to Hagrid's in order to go through their final plan for Norbert's removal. Charlie had told them to meet the group he had sent over at the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday. It was now Friday and they had finally got everything organised.

Harry was on his way to the library to meet Hermione when he bumped into Malfoy. Harry was a bit put off at the smug look on his face. He also wore a nasty grin. “Watch where you're going Potter or are you just preoccupied with other matters,” he whispered. Harry gave him a dangerous look and Malfoy stalked off. It was only then that Harry noticed that Malfoy had just come out of the library. A deadly thought rushed through Harry's head. He quickly walked into the library and ran to the back where he suspected Hermione to be. She was sitting down, a book open in front of her. And sitting across from her was Ron. “Please tell me that you weren't talking about Norbert,” whispered Harry. “Yeah, I was telling Hermione that I figured the Astronomy Tower was the tallest of the castle. Why? What's wrong?” asked Ron confused.

Harry sighed deeply. “I think Malfoy knows.” He told them of his encounter with Malfoy. “He must have overheard you,” finished Harry. “I can't believe this,” cried Hermione loudly. There was a shuffling of feet and a severe looking woman appeared at the end of the packed bookshelf. “Ms. Granger, please,” said a harassed and shocked Madam Pince. Hermione apologized sincerely and Madam Pince walked away but not without a warning glance. “This is going to change the plans a bit. One of us will have to follow Malfoy tomorrow night. He'll probably alert someone while we're on our way to the Tower,” said Harry.

“I'll tail Malfoy. You two get rid of the dragon,” declared Ron. A silence fell between them as they thought about what they had to do. “This is going to be extremely difficult,” laughed Hermione but Harry knew inside she would probably prefer to cry.

Since Gryffindor triumphed over Hufflepuff and were now leading the race for the House Cup, Slytherins had become unbearable. They especially hated Harry because he had won the game for them the week before. Harry was always receiving vicious looks from students of Slytherin. They often said cruel things about him. Harry had tried to ignore them but it was always difficult to block out the foul mouthed idiots that followed him to classes. More than once he got very riled up and nearly attacked the offenders but Hermione was always there to calm him down.

The worst thing about the Harry vs. Slytherin enmity was that Harry had to endure Malfoy more than usual. And now with the knowledge of Norbert, Malfoy had the upper hand. He was constantly flaunting in front of Harry trying to get a reaction out of them, it was like a very sinister form of black-mail. Saturday crawled by and Harry spent the whole time worrying about what they had to do.

They left Ron at the entrance to the Fat Lady's corridor. He was going to search for Malfoy. From what they had gathered Malfoy had been planning something with Crabbe and Goyle. Ron would head to the Astronomy corridor and hopefully either stop Malfoy or meet up with Harry and Hermione safely. The whole point of Ron doing this was to stop any further interruption in their plans. Harry had offered him the Cloak but Ron said it was more important for them to have it. Harry secretly agreed.

It was a cloudy night and the stars made no appearance. The grounds where extremely dark and they crept slowly down to Hagrid's lit cabin. Harry knocked on the door quickly. When it opened Harry felt a pang of sadness for Hagrid. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. Inside his cabin was a right mess. Everything seemed to have been broken up. “He didn' want to get inti the crate. Bu' I put his teddy bear in an' he had no problem. He's just a baby after all,” cooed Hagrid into the wooden crate which was shaking violently and had loud banging coming from within it.

Hermione gave Hagrid a sympathetic look. “He'll be okay Hagrid. Once we get him out of here, he'll be with other dragons, he'll be fine,” offered Hermione. “But what if he doesn't fit in. What if he's excluded?' Hagrid moaned. “He will fit in,” said Harry rolling his eyes. He was growing terse. Hagrid said one more goodbye and then Harry and Hermione lifted the crate and made their way out the door. The crate was quite heavy and also difficult to hold. Harry tried taking most of its weight so Hermione wouldn't have to. It was also harder to carry when they were covered with the Invisibility Cloak.

“You could've been a bit nicer back there you know,” said Hermione as they struggled across the wet grass. “Hermione, we wouldn't have made it outside the hut if I hadn't of sped up the dealings a bit,” said Harry defensively. Of what he could see through the darkness, Hermione had just given him an angry glare. He sighed “Fine. I was a bit impatient. But please try and remember the situation we're in. We're carrying an illegal dragon through a castle with hundreds of people in it. I don't know about you but I'm a bit nervous,' explained Harry. “So am I,” replied Hermione. “What if we don't make it? We'd be expelled!”

“You won't be expelled Hermione. I swear.”

They crept silently through the Entrance Hall and then up the marble staircase. There wasn't a sound to be heard and they tried to walk as silently as they could. They were thankful that Norbert had stopped his banging and wondered whether he was asleep. The combined weight of the crate and also the way in which they had to move, left them gasping for air. They stopped for a few moments to rest but then they heard a shout from somewhere behind them. Harry thought it might be Ron. “Come on. We have to go,' he mouthed to Hermione and they both heaved the crate up again and made their way down the corridor. Because of the absence of the moon the corridors were unusually dark. They finally reached a corridor that wasn't lit at all. “This is the Astronomy corridor,” whispered Hermione in Harry's ear. Harry for some reason felt momentarily frozen but he soon got back to himself. They found the spiral staircase leading up out onto the roof tower. It was difficult hauling the crate up the spiral staircase as it was narrow. When they reached the outdoors they ripped the Invisibility Cloak of them and shut the door leading up from the staircase.

Under the Cloak it had been very stuffy and warm, so they took a few deep breaths when they made it to the top. Charlie's friends arrived a few minutes later on broomsticks. They were a cheery lot and were also very chatty. They were explaining all about the different dragon breeds as they examined the crate with Norbert. They then showed them the harness they had rigged up to help carry the dragon. Harry and Hermione waved them off as they disappeared into the night. “Who do you that shout was from?” asked Harry as he lifted up the cloak. “I don't know. I just want to get back to Gryffindor Tower,” she said darkly.

They quickly made their way back down the staircase and they nearly ran straight into Filch. He was sniffing about, holding up a lantern and peering into the darkness. They edged around him and scurried to the other end of the corridor. When they had gone two floors down Hermione whispered “He was looking for something.” Harry didn't reply. He thought he had heard something from the other end of the corridor. It was the direction in which they were going. Suddenly he heard running footsteps and a grey figure appeared out of the darkness. Then two other larger figures appeared. Harry gulped and grabbed Hermione, pulling her into the shadows, even though they were covered by the Invisibility Cloak. Then Harry recognized the first figure. It was Ron. He was now hiding behind a statue watching the progress of the other two figures. “Stay here and under no circumstances move,” he whispered to Hermione. He lifted up the Cloak and stepped out from under it. Hermione tried to grab him but he shook his head frantically at her. “Ron,” he hissed. Ron nearly jumped from fright. `Harry, its Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy went to get Snape. These two chased me all the way here,” he whispered.

Harry pulled out his wand and stepped out from behind the large statue. “Leave…Now. Go back to your common room,” Harry commanded. Ron also stepped out from behind the statue. “You're not the boss of us and you can't tell us what to do,” said one of the still figures. “We know…that's Malfoy's job,” said Ron. The two figures were about to take a step forward when a cold voice could be heard coming from down the corridor. “Mr Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, I presume,” said Professor Snape. Harry and Ron stared into the darkness in horror. But Crabbe and Goyle who already knew they were caught leaped forward and grabbed Harry in a tight grip. `Ron, to the left. Go,” he said trying to get Ron to move over to Hermione so she could cover him with the Invisibility Cloak. Ron copped on and moved to the left. “Hey! He disappeared,” said Crabbe stupidly.

Professor Snape had reached them. His wand was lit and was now the only source of light. Malfoy stood behind him. His dark eyes pierced Harry who was still struggling against Crabbe and Goyle's half-nelson. “Well, Well, Potter. Out of bed. After dark. Tut tut tut,” He stopped and leered at Harry. Harry felt a fury roar within him as he watched what was supposed to be his teacher, do nothing to stop Crabbe and Goyle as they tightened their grip. They had now lifted Harry off his feet.

“Let him go,” Snape drawled when he saw Harry grit his teeth in pain. Harry fell to the ground in a heap. “What were you doing roaming the castle in the middle of the night?” Snape asked dangerously. Harry didn't answer. He didn't make a sound. Then Malfoy started in “I heard Weasley and that Granger. They said they were getting rid of something. And I heard Weasley mention the Astronomy Tower.” Harry could hear the excitement in Malfoy's voice. But then it struck him that Malfoy didn't know what they were getting rid of. He didn't know about Norbert. “WHAT were you doing?” Snape repeated becoming increasingly infuriated. Harry went to stand up but Goyle kicked him in the side and Harry fell back to the ground. “You said there was another,” said Snape turning to Malfoy. Before Malfoy could answer Crabbe started. “We saw one sir. But he disappeared.” Snape lifted his eyebrow. “What do you mean `disappeared',” said Snape impatiently. “One minute he was there. The next he wasn't,” explained Goyle.

Harry nearly laughed at how stupid it sounded. Snape looked furious. He bent over and grabbed Harry by his collar. “Were you alone?” His eyes boring into Harry's made Harry feel as if he was being searched. Harry tried to think of anything but what had happened that night. He then shut his eyes and turned away from Snape. Snape let go of him. Snape drew himself up to his fullest height, so that he towered over Harry who was still on the ground.

“I'm afraid, Potter,” again he spat the name “that you've just lost your house the lead for the House Cup.” Harry felt his breath hitch and he raised his head to look at Snape. An evil smile appeared on Snape's features. “One hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor House. Twenty points will be taken from Slytherin.” “But sir,” started Malfoy.” “You were out of bed, Draco,” said Snape in a bored voice. Malfoy didn't react. It was only twenty points. Nothing compared to what Harry had lost.

Snape turned to leave but just then Malfoy aimed a kick at Harry. He then kicked him in the stomach which winded Harry, who because of Crabbe's renewed grip couldn't react. Suddenly the kicking stopped. Harry looked up to see Snape grabbing Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and shaking him. “What do you think you're doing!”

Harry was shocked to see Snape react like this. He didn't think that he cared. “You can serve detention with Potter,' Snape shot at Malfoy. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sulked off with Snape striding ahead of them. Harry picked himself up slowly from the ground. His ribs ached and his head was sore. He couldn't believe it. One hundred points lost because of him. He was extremely glad that Hermione and Ron weren't caught.

He slowly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. When he entered the portrait hole he found Hermione and Ron standing waiting for him. He was quite relieved to find they had left as soon as they could. He hadn't wanted them to see him being tortured by Snape. He had a feeling Hermione would've gone insane. “I can't believe you did that,' said Ron in awe “you took the rap for both of us.” Harry looked up at him. “Well I wasn't exactly innocent,” he said dryly. “One hundred points,” moaned Ron, shaking his head.

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Chapter Twenty One

Harry opened his eyes slowly the next morning; memories of the previous night came flooding into his head. He still couldn't believe it. One hundred points he thought. But Norbert was gone and Hagrid was safe. Hermione and Ron weren't caught or in any sort of trouble. It was at least worth the sacrifice.

He went to roll over in his bed and winced at the shooting pain that went through his side. He pulled up his thin night shirt and saw a dark and blackened bruise on his left side and breast. He heaved a sigh as he fully comprehended how much he would have to deal with today. It was a cool and gray Sunday and Harry knew from the heavy breathing and occasional snore, that the rest of the boys in his dormitory were asleep.

He silently drew back the hangings on his bed and gingerly climbed out so that his bare feet touched the cold stone floor. He slowly got dressed and crept down to the silent common room. He decided to have an early breakfast. On his way to the Great Hall he passed the giant clear hour glasses that depicted the number of points each house had. His heart plummeted as he noticed four early risers from Ravenclaw look bewildered at the points shown.

To Harry his breakfast was like eating cardboard. He couldn't taste it as all he could think about was the reaction of the other students. Especially Gryffindors. He could endure the taunting of Slytherins because he was a Gryffindor but knowing he had now let down his house was agony. The feeling within him brought back the childhood memories of worthlessness. He dropped his knife and fork onto his plate with a loud clatter that echoed throughout the silence of the hall. His elbows resting on the table, he let his head fall into his hands, blocking out the vision of students entering the hall. He didn't know how long he had remained in that position, wallowing in self-pity, but when he removed his head from the palm of hands, the hall was now full of noise and also students. It was then that he noticed the looks of revulsion and loathing he was receiving from his own table. It didn't take them long to find out he thought. If only they knew the truth.

But then another voice entered his thoughts. One that had haunted him for so long before he had come to Hogwarts. Look what you've done. You always mess things up. You insignificant little brat,

Harry quickly shut his eyes trying to rid himself of Uncle Vernon's burrowing voice. He stood up and ignoring the vicious glances made his way out of the Great Hall and up to library. He hadn't intended to go there; his feet had just directed him towards the silent sanctuary. It was a good place to avoid people as not many students visited the library on a Sunday. He went to his and Hermione's table hidden in the back behind the numerous book shelves. He tried looking through some books, but it was pointless trying to concentrate on anything else. He let out a deep sigh and slumped back in his chair. He wanted them all to know why he had been out of bounds after hours but under no circumstances could they know. His head was still reeling about Snape. Ron was right. He was a lunatic. Harry wondered whether Snape was schizophrenic from his behaviour after Malfoy's attack.

The rest of Sunday passed by rather uneventfully as Harry avoided all the other students. Hermione kept telling him it would all die down, that people would forget. Ron insisted on using Fred and George as examples of students who lost points for Gryffindor almost everyday. Harry appreciated their efforts in lessening his burden but was still secretly cursing himself. He could have made a better plan, one that didn't involve the danger of being caught, but to this Hermione quickly reacted saying that no matter what, the chance of capture was always inevitable especially with Malfoy.

Monday was absolutely dreadful. Unable to avoid being seen by other students, Harry was a target for spiteful and cruel insults. Everywhere he went there was always someone to take a stab at him. It was nearly all the students of the houses as Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had wanted to witness the end of Slytherins domination of the Cup. Even some of the professors were distant with him. Professor McGonagall had hunted him down during lunch and then questioned him thoroughly about what had happened. But again Harry kept his silence. McGonagall was mystified as to why Harry was so quiet and kept berating him to answer the one question she desperately wanted to know the answer to. Why had he done it?

It took all of Harry's willpower not to succumb to her perseverance and in the end she actually let him go with another detention. Harry didn't argue, he knew he deserved it or worse.

Many people throughout the day tried to trip Harry up by furtively sticking out their foot. Harry paid close attention to everything that went on around him, using his `other sense' to try and avoid falling or worse. As long as he focused he'd be fine. It all went well until the end of the day. Harry was hurriedly running down the marble staircase. He was late for tea with Hagrid who had sent him a letter asking him to come down as he had something to tell him. Harry wondered what else life had in store for him.

The staircase was full of anxious students and as Harry neared the end of the long line of steps he felt a tug at his feet and was sent rolling down the last seven or eight steps. He crashed painfully onto the flagged stone floor, his glasses smashed as they went skidding across the hard ground. He could hear a few laughs coming from above him, the students obviously finding his pain amusing. His side now felt as if he was caught between an anvil and a hammer. He dragged himself up agonizingly onto his feet, leaning against the decorated banister for support. He then saw Malfoy finish his ascension up the staircase and rightly guessed that it was he who had tripped him up. His breathing now coming in gasps, every breath now tightening his side, he picked up his bag and his now broken glasses and made his way down to Hagrid's hut. On his way down Harry repaired his broken glasses and put them back on.

When Hagrid opened the door to see Harry, pale and clutching his side, he quickly ushered him in to take a seat. “What's wrong with ye Harry,” he said pointing to his side. “Oh nothing,” replied Harry “…I…fell when I was on my way down here,” he said, forcing a laugh to make it sound a bit comical. Hagrid stood up solemnly and started rooting through a wooden press situated over his large quilted bed. He removed a bottle and set it on the table. “Ere, helps relieve pain,” he said.

Harry leaned forward and took the bottle in one hand, unscrewing the cap with his other. As he took a gulp of the liquid it contained, Hagrid explained about the function of it. “Ye rarely get roughed up while in the forest but every now and then ye'll meet a hostile creature. That stuff gets rid o pain from bruises and scratches and so fort.”

Harry thanked him as he felt the pain ease in his side. They talked for awhile about Norbert and wondered where he was now. Hagrid thanked Harry for helping him and told him that he was sorry and that he blamed himself for Harry getting a detention. Harry told him not to be stupid and that he didn't blame him in the slightest. Harry drained his mug of tea that was now cold and left a dry taste in his mouth.

“So what did you want to talk about Hagrid?' he asked curiously. “Bout yer detention. Professor McGonagall came to tell me yer to come into the forest with me, tomorrow night. That Malfoy boy is ter come as well,” said Hagrid gruffly as if disproving.

“Oh alright,” replied Harry. He felt apprehensive but then felt an odd inquisitiveness grow within him. He couldn't lie to himself that he hadn't wondered why it was called the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid eyed him suspiciously. “Hmm. Yer not frightened. I'd be if I wer you. They say der's werewolves livin there.” His eyes were wide and he spoke very dramatically. Harry knew that Hagrid was only having a laugh trying to spook him. He gave him a slightly amused look. “Werewolves are people, Hagrid. So unless you're keeping some in the castle and letting them out at the full moon then I won't be too frightened.” Hagrid chuckled to himself. “You'd best be off Harry.”

Harry felt himself dreading walking back into the school. The few minutes spent with Hagrid had taken his mind off his situation slightly but his morbid feelings came rushing back as he stepped into the Entrance Hall. Believing the common room would be too full of students he made his way to the library and got started on his homework. It was the only thing he could do. It grew dark outside. The light waning in the dusty library was releasing shadows around him but he continued to let himself be drawn to the black text of each line on the page. His tiredness overtook him and soon his vision blurred and he let his head drop onto the pages of the leather bound book. The flame of his candle vanished and all was left quiet.

He was running hurriedly through a dense patch of trees. Sunlight streamed in a bright beam above him guiding his way through the ever pressing darkness. He felt something snatch and grab his feet but every time he crashed into the thick undergrowth he picked himself back up. He had to follow the beam of light. It was the only hope in a world of darkness and despair. His clothes were torn, scratches imprinted on his skin. His heart was beating hard in his chest as he felt his journey was ending. And suddenly without warning, the line of trees ended and he was looking into a small valley filled with a brilliant white light that dazzled his eyes. Suddenly he spotted figures making their way out of the light. And there on the edge, the border between light and dark stood a crowd of well dressed people, who seemed to shine from within. Harry took a sharp intake of breath as he recognized his mother and father. They still wore those agonizing smiles of sadness. Then another figure stepped forward wearing a gown of white silk, her hair set in light curls about her radiating face. She reached out to him, her small hand waiting to be joined by his.

All of a sudden the ground beneath him started to tremor and gradually split. The two worlds of light and dark became undone and Harry felt his heart being torn as he watched those he loved being carried away. His panic overtook him and he thought he heard a voice, faint as a whisper, but it slowly grew louder and he realized it was he, himself, shouting. “Hermione”

He felt himself being shaken abruptly by two hands grasping his arms. His eyes were kept shut, sweat graced his forehead and his body itself was shaking from some unknown force. He heard someone call his name close at hand, and a voice in his head kept telling him to open his eyes. He let in and opened them slightly against a light that was shining from somewhere. Hermione stood over him, a worried expression on her face. “Are you alright? You seemed to be having a bad dream. You don't look too well either,” she expressed. Her eyes seemed to bore into his. Harry suddenly got a flashback of his dream and immediately stood up, pushing her hands away. “Er…I'm fine,” he lied. Then seeing the hurt look on her face he continued “sorry I…you just startled me.” Hermione nodded in understanding.

“Well why didn't you go to bed last night. You spent the whole night in the library on your own. You're lucky Madam Pince didn't see you. She would have flayed you alive,” she said bossily. She then went to give a long list of things that might have happened which included Filch, Snape and even a ghost. Harry felt a tight stiffness in his neck from the position he had slept in. He was also wondering about the dream he had been having. He tuned back in to hear Hermione's irritated voice “not to mention the amount of trouble you could have landed yourself in. Harry, are you even listening to me?!” she added astonished.

Harry looked taken aback. “Of course. You were telling me how much trouble I could have gotten in,” he said innocently trying to sound upset at such an accusation. Hermione seemed to see right through his lie. She drew herself up to her fullest height, which was still slightly smaller than Harry. She inhaled a deep breath. “Harry Potter, I see through your silly little act. If you weren't listening to me then you could have just said so. I wouldn't have expected this from you. Maybe Ron or…another boy…but not you.” When she had started speaking her voice was sharp but as she ended it had become shaky. Harry thought frantically.

“I'm sorry Hermione. I really am. I'm just feeling a bit off lately. What with Norbert and losing a hundred points for Gryffindor and the whole school practically hating me.”

Hermione seemed to calm down slightly. “Well, you'd better hurry up. There's only thirty minutes left until our first class,” she said before leaving the library. Harry gathered up his things quickly and went to Gryffindor Tower. He showered and by the time he was ready hadn't eaten breakfast. Ron suggested missing his first class so he could get some food and was astounded when Harry refused.

So Harry sat through four classes without having anything to eat. His stomach growled in protest. His concentration levels were at their lowest ever. He also felt slightly weak from tiredness. The worst aspect of this was one hour of History of Magic in which he was constantly elbowed by Hermione for falling asleep.

He bolted down to the Great Hall for lunch and was rewarded with cheesy and very tasty lasagna. Hermione joined him after he had just finished eating. “Are you alright Hermione? You seemed a bit on edge, earlier on,” Harry asked cautiously. She gave him a piercing look but it relaxed and she looked at her feet before answering. “It's nothing. Just…when you didn't come back last night, I…thought something bad had happened to you,” she said quickly, a pink tinge appearing on her cheeks. “Oh,” started Harry, he hadn't expected that answer “well…I'm sorry. I meant to go back but I fell asleep,” he said apologetically.

“It's alright. So did you hear what your detention would be?' she asked anxiously. “Yeah, I'm to go into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid tonight,” he immediately regretted saying this as Hermione eyes went wide and a look of shock was plastered on her face. “WHAT! You can't go there, its way too dangerous. How can a school send students into a forest that inhabits all sorts of dangerous creatures?

“I'll be with Hagrid and he knows the forest pretty well. And don't worry, I'll have my wand with me,” he said reassuringly in an attempt to calm her down. She stopped fretting even though Harry knew she was still extremely worried. Harry was actually quite excited about going into the forest. He would have preferred to go in the day when there would've been more light and he might have been less nervous but he was excited about encountering magical creatures. “I wonder why you have to go into the forest with Hagrid,” said Hermione thoughtfully. Harry turned to look at her. She was just finishing her shepherd's pie, her fork poised in mid-air. When she had asked her question she returned to scooping up the remains of her food. Harry's mind immediately flashed back to his dream before he answered. “I don't know what business he has with the forest. But I don't think it's anything good. I've seen him come back from the forest a few times, always looking grim,” he replied.

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Harry was still treated horribly by some of the students yet some of them had nearly forgotten what had happened already. It was a cold day with strong winds often rattling windows and tangling people's cloaks about them. By six o'clock that evening when the sky turned to a deep creamy blue, drizzles of rain were tapping gently on the grounds. Pale distant stars could be spotted when looked for but no moon was seen. When Harry was leaving for Hagrid's, he took his long black cloak that had a deep hood attached to it. He placed his wand up his sleeve, using his watch as a holster. He was to meet Filch in the Entrance Hall at nine o'clock. Hermione accompanied him down to end of the Fat Lady's corridor as she wasn't supposed to leave the common room.

“Take care of yourself. Don't do anything stupid,” she said with an intense stare. “I'll try not to,” joked Harry but added an “I won't” when he saw her glare. She squeezed his hand tightly; making Harry's heart race for a moment, then ran back up the corridor to the awaiting portrait. Harry stood still for a minute wondering what had just happened and once again his dream invaded his thoughts. When he realized what time it was he left in a hurry, not wanting to be given out to by the malicious and waiting Filch.

When Harry arrived down in the dimly lit Entrance Hall he found to his displeasure an impatient Filch and a sullen Malfoy. “Nice of you to join us Mr. Potter,” said Filch, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He led them out across the now dark grounds with a kerosene lamp lighting up the wet grass. Harry could barely spot the stars through the present clouds. What had started as a light drizzle was now becoming a downpour. He pulled his cloak about him and lifted his hood over his head, shadowing his face. When they reached Hagrid's cabin, Filch banged at the door making Hagrid open it abruptly. “Got something for ye Hagrid,” Filch said motioning towards Harry and Malfoy. Hagrid moved back into the cabin to fetch something and Filch turned to Harry and Malfoy. “Wouldn't fancy being you tonight,” he cackled as he started moving back towards the castle. Hagrid appeared carrying a crossbow and a lamp similar to Filch's. Fang was at his heels. They moved into the cover of the trees that lay on the border of the forest. Harry saw the terrified look on Malfoy's face and the frown on Hagrid's. “Now listen carefully cause its dangerous what we're gonna do tonight an' u don' want no one takin' risks.” He moved deeper into the forest. Harry could make out the thick black trunks of enormous trees.

“Look there,” said Hagrid pointing towards a narrow, winding earth track. “see that stuff shinin' on the ground? The silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last month. We're gonna try an' find the poor creature. We might have to put it out of its misery.”

“We're going in there to look for something that is probably already dead and all the while there is a killer somewhere in there,” exclaimed Malfoy, now clearly panicking. Hagrid was trying to explain to Malfoy that as long as Fang or himself was with him, he had nothing to fear from the forest. But Harry didn't hear this. He was looking down the long forest trail. He thought or rather felt a calling within him to enter the forest or a faint whisper of his name coming from inside the depths of the forest. He removed his hood letting it drop to his shoulders. The rain which was yielded slightly by the branches above him was making its way down his face. “You alright Harry,” asked Hagrid startling Harry. “Fine,” he answered.

They made their way now, in single file, down the forest path. Hagrid was in the lead, Malfoy walking very closely behind him beside Fang and then Harry at the back. To Harry the noise of the heavy droplets of rain pounding the forest was like a thunderstorm against the silence. On either side of the path there was thick undergrowth. Thorny bushes and ancient tangled branches gave the appearance of nothing but black. It was the trees that most interested Harry. As he gazed at them he realized that they were not all enormous. From where he stood all he could see was tree-trunks of innumerable sizes and shape: straight or bent, slender or squat, gnarled and twisted forms leaning over the path as if spying on the newcomers into the forest. “Keep to the path, no matter what happens,” said Hagrid.

Harry looked at the worn path they were now treading. It was strewn with leaves and was becoming muddy as small pools of water formed on it. After a few minutes of walking, Hagrid stopped them. It was then that Harry noticed there was a fork in the path. Silvery blue blood could be seen on either side of the path. “Poor thing must've bin staggerin',” said Hagrid. Harry looked down the path leading right. “I'll take Fang and head this way,” said Harry nodding his head in the direction. “You sure?” asked Hagrid uncertainly. “Yeah. I'll be fine.”

“Alright if you find summat send up green sparks. Anything goes wrong send up red sparks,” ordered Hagrid. Harry watched them go before making his way down the path which was becoming impossible to follow because of the amount of puddles that were forming on it. The gnarled branches of trees were now in the way of the path so that Harry had to push them out of his way or climb over them. He reckoned he must have been walking for at least twenty minutes before he had a strange feeling he was being watched. He quickly spun around peering down the lonely forest path he had just walked down. He couldn't make anything out in the darkness but he knew there was something there. He quickened his pace wondering would anything follow. The track was slowly sloping downwards and the forest was more pressing than ever. As Harry climbed over a great tree root that had thrown itself out in front of his path he realized that Fang wasn't with him. On either side of the path, the ground was now a steep slope into pitch black darkness. Harry wondered whether Fang, through his fear, had fallen down into the tangled bushes. He was about to turn back when an arrow sailed past his head. He immediately ducked and crawled off the path. He slid down the slope and then crouched behind a large tree bole. His breathing was sharp as he heard the sound of slow hooves. The hooves stopped and Harry slowly and cautiously peered out from behind the large mossy tree trunk he was leaning against.

There on the path stood a centaur. To the waist he was a man, with black hair and beard, but below there was horses' body, with a shiny black coat that gleamed even in the darkness. From the way he was standing he was obviously looking for something. A quiver of arrows was fastened to his back and in his right hand he held a thick black bow with strange symbols carved into it. Harry could feel the centaur's eyes move steadily towards where he was hiding. He pulled his cloak closer to him so as to blend in with the darkness surrounding him. After a few tense seconds Harry heard the sound of hooves retreating back up the path.

He scurried back up the slope and noticed the arrow that had been fired caught in a tall oak tree. Stepping over to it Harry released it from the tough bark. It was a black feathered arrow, thin with a deadly point. Harry wondered whether Fang had been caught by the centaur. He was pondering sending up red sparks when he heard another sound coming from further up the path. But Harry knew that it wasn't a centaur from the moment he heard it. It sent a chill down his spine and Harry felt his inside freeze. His heart didn't race, in fact Harry felt as if it had stopped beating altogether.

The sound of something slithering over dead leaves reached his ears, it sounded like a cloak trailing the forest floor. Harry moved closer into the shadows of a dark overhanging tree. He then heard murmuring like the hiss of a snake and the noise moved farther away. Harry knew instantly that if he followed he would find what he was looking for. His knowledge of the forest wasn't great but he knew that whatever it was that he had heard, didn't belong to the forest and was more likely a trespasser. Harry guessed it was this that was killing the unicorns. Taking a deep breath Harry started to follow the trespasser. He went quietly, making his footfalls as silent as possible so that from afar he resembled a hunter.

After a minute walking he recognized footprints on the ground. “Lumos,” he whispered so that his wand lit dimly. He bent down and examined the footprints. They seemed to have been made by heavy boots; the rain was now filling the hole that was created by the heel. It was then Harry realized that whatever he was chasing was in fact human. Standing up Harry decided to follow at a quicker pace. He put out his wand and started out again, this time he was nearly jogging but he was on alert for any movement coming from up ahead. He still found drops of silver blood lying desolate on the leaves of trees or on the wet ground. Harry thought the blood seemed to get thicker. The rain had slowly turned back into a drizzle that was barely making it through the roof of the forest. He felt the forest become darker and it seemed more voluminous. Harry reckoned he must have been near the heart of it.

Suddenly Harry saw a blast of green light coming from up ahead of him. He stopped momentarily and then he started hearing noises issuing from within the forest itself. He thought he heard whispers, angry whispers. The sound of the creaking of heavy branches moving intensified. Harry gazed at the trees in wonder as he spotted branches swaying and groping without the force of the wind. And Harry guessed what had happened. The trespasser he had heard must have been hunting the unicorn and had just killed it. It seemed the forest was fuming and Harry wished that at the moment he wasn't in the middle of it.

Suddenly a horrible noise reached Harry's ears. It was the sound of flesh being ripped from a carcass. A fury built up inside of Harry at the idea of something as beautiful as a unicorn being besmirched in such horrific circumstances. Drawing his wand Harry ran down the path and arrived on the edge of a clearing. A solid wall of trees with thick leaves encircled the clearing. In the centre Harry found the unicorn. Its gleaming silver coat was tarnished with dirt and muck that lay on the ground. Its slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. A deep sorrowful silence seemed to emanate from its still lifeless body. An endless silent music that once originated from its soul was now gone.

But Harry barely registered this as he lifted his eyes to see a hooded and cloaked figure lower its head over a deep gash in the side of the unicorn and began to drink its blood. Harry feeling such a deep hatred and revulsion took two steps into the clearing. With each step the sound of cracking branches and broken leaves resounded around the clearing. The figure quickly stood up to see Harry's stern face, his green eyes burning deeply in the darkness of the night. Stars that were once pale now shone brightly into the clearing casting a small light in which to see. The figure acted first sending a blast which Harry ducked. The spell hit a tree creating a large gaping hole in the side of it. Harry then sent a stunning spell in the direction of the figure. “Protego,” it hissed in reply, blocking the spell.

Then the figure, which Harry guessed was a man from the way it moved, sent another spell. Harry nearly avoided it, but at the last moment he felt a deep cut form across his scalp. He grabbed his head with his left hand and felt warm blood through his fingers. The man then shot a stunner at Harry. Deciding to use his own spell against him Harry shouted “Protego,” and blocked the red light coming towards him. Perspiration was dripping from Harry's face; his breath was coming in gasps. Then the figure took a step towards Harry and all Harry felt was excruciating pain burst through his scar. He dropped his wand and staggered backwards falling to the ground. Then Harry heard the twang of bowstrings and the whistling of many arrows. The hooded figure bolted, the arrows had only pierced his cloak and nothing more. The searing pain left Harry's old scar so that he could stand up. The deep cut on his scalp was stinging but it was bearable.

Harry sighed deeply as he watched four centaurs make their way into the clearing. They each had an arrow fitted to the bow, pointing at him. Harry had expected them to speak first and was surprised when they each fired an arrow at him. With a wave of his hand the four black-feathered arrows stopped mid-air, and then fell uselessly to the ground. It was common knowledge, at least to Harry, that it was easier to use magic against objects that weren't entirely composed of magic.

The four centaurs stared at Harry in amazement. Harry recognized the one standing closest to him as the one he had seen while on the forest path. There was a hint of fear in his eyes, something which he immediately tried to hide. “Who are you who trespasses in our land?” he asked fiercely. Harry, who was exhausted at this point, not to mention in some pain, decided to remain polite. He knew they didn't favor magic, especially when used against him.

“I am a student from the castle. I was sent here to look for a unicorn, one whom might already be dead. I entered the forest with two others. One you might know. Hagrid, he is Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts,” said Harry. The centaur at the front did not take his eyes off Harry. He seemed to be thinking of his next movements.

“Hagrid is known to us. Long has he been entering our forest, taming beasts and hunting for food for some new creature he has discovered. We take no heed of those who wander around the borders of our forest, but you have moved deeply now into the heart of it,” the centaur paused for a moment before continuing “Under any other circumstances we would exact punishment on you. We do not allow strangers to roam our lands. But I take it that this” he motioned towards the dead body of the unicorn “is not your doing. And that whatever your business in our forest was, was not against beast or animal. You are also a youngling and I would find it a sin to punish one so young.”

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't believe for one moment that the centaurs ruled the forest. He was relieved he wouldn't be punished but whatever was attacking the unicorns was still moving freely within the forest. He started speaking again, this time a bit more cautiously as well as courteously.

“Forgive me. I wasn't aware the forest was under your domain. You are precisely right in assuming it was not I who was attacking the unicorns. I am no murderer. But I warn you that whoever it is, still roves unchecked through your realm. Also I would like to add that if you do find the person responsible for this crime to approach with great caution.”

Harry finished as another centaur entered the clearing. Immediately Harry guessed that this one was friendlier than the others. For one, it wasn't holding a weapon. The centaur was younger than any other that Harry had met. He had white blond hair and a palomino body. He had a kind face with astonishingly blue eyes. But a slightly shocked look crossed his face when he saw Harry. The centaur that was talking to Harry and seemed to be the leader looked to the centaur that had just entered. “Firenze, will you please escort the Potter boy from the forest,” he commanded. Then the four centaurs left the clearing and all was silent.

Harry retrieved his wand and then went to examine the unicorn. `We should leave now. It is not safe for anyone to linger here in the forest, especially you,” the centaur said in a fair voice. Taking one last sad look at the beautiful tragedy of the unicorn Harry turned and left the clearing, Firenze following. “What do you mean when you say it isn't safe for me?” asked Harry suspiciously.

Firenze stopped walking and Harry followed his lead. He then looked at the forest warily before bending down to Harry and whispering. “Are you aware, Harry Potter, of the uses of unicorn blood?” he asked.

Harry looked at him, knowing the answer. It then struck him how foolish he had been going into that clearing and facing the murderer. Whoever it was he had opposed was hardly capable of being called a man after the desecration of one of the earth's most wonderful creatures. Firenze seeing the realization in Harry's eyes, nodded as if agreeing. “From what I have seen you fought the beast capable of such terror. It was certainly foolish but also extremely brave. A cursed life the bearer of such an act shall now have. But I do not think you realize the full consequences of what has occurred tonight?” he said quietly.

Harry looked at him questioningly. Firenze continued “My kind are known `star-gazers'. We look to the heavens for the answer to tomorrow's problems, Harry Potter. Long has it been taught that we should not share our knowledge of the future. But I, myself, believe that certain situations call on us to break certain rules if it can help save the lives of those in question.” He paused and Harry wondered whether he had finished speaking. “The consequences of drinking the blood of a unicorn are horrific. Would you agree?” he asked.

Harry was slightly taken aback by the question after the long silence. “Er…yes,' he replied. Firenze looked deeply into Harry's eyes. “It is a wonder why anyone would want to even live a cursed life. Do you agree?” he said this to Harry in such a way that Harry knew Firenze was trying to get him to some kind of conclusion. Harry couldn't get his head around it. So much had happened that night. He decided to take a stab at it. “I agree. Death seems to be a better choice than a cursed life. Only someone who had nothing to lose and everything to gain would slay a unicorn. It byes time, tainted and spoiled, but time nonetheless. Who would want such time? Unless….” The answer came to Harry in a matter of seconds. The thing he had been trying to protect against what he believed a cunning thief. The Philosophers Stone would bring anyone back to full strength and power and grant you eternal life. A full one.

“You see now of what I speak,” Firenze said and started to walk once again. Harry's feet started treading the path also, his mind elsewhere. “You are right in assuming that all the murderer wants is time. But more than that he wants to stay alive long enough to drink something else. The Elixir of Life is one of the most powerful and dangerous objects ever created. And the hope of it remaining in the right hands stands upon the edge of a knife. Time is now of the utmost importance.”

“Who is it? Who's trying to steal it?” Harry asked already fearing the answer. Firenze looked at him sadly. “You already know who it is. The person who is trying to gain life is the same one who tried to take away yours,” he finished looking at Harry's scar.

They walked to edge of the forest. The rain had now completely stopped. The wind seemed to have calmed down and only a light breeze remained. The overhanging branches seemed to create an arch as they walked the last few steps of the path. Harry felt small drops of blood slowly make their way down his face. He had nearly forgotten about the deep cut on his scalp. Blood had dried into his hair and congealed around the cut. He also felt quite light headed but he didn't know whether that was from the cut or the events of the night.

Hagrid was waiting on the edge of the forest with a pale faced Malfoy. As soon as Malfoy spotted Harry he stalked off towards the castle. Harry was relieved to see Fang sitting down at Hagrid's feet. Apparently he was so terrified he ran back up the path and Hagrid had found him on his way back. Harry told Hagrid about the unicorn but nothing else. He didn't think Hagrid would believe him if he told him Lord Voldemort was killing unicorns. He told him he had fell while on the path and hit his head against a rock.

Hagrid quickly examined the cut and told Harry that he wouldn't have to go to the Hospital Wing but he would have to bathe it in water incase of infection. As Hagrid was gathering his things together getting ready to bring Harry back up to the castle, Firenze took Harry aside for a moment. “You must keep the Stone in safe hands. The headmaster, Dumbledore, he is a great wizard and I am sure he is using all his power to protect the Stone but I ask it of you also to take great caution when it comes to the Stone and also to be aware of its movements. The planets have been read wrongly now, even by my kind. I hope this is one of those times.” He shook Harry's hand and then at the edge of the forest he turned and smiled at Harry.

“You are wise beyond your years, Harry Potter.”

A longer chapter, the longest yet I think.

Alas we come nearer to the end of the story. I might add some more trials for the trio in order to reach the Stone than in PS. Make it a bit more interesting. Not that it wasn't interesting before.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year if such a thing exists.

Just a question, should I introduce a new character in the second fic.

Thanks for reading and hoped you liked the chapter. Tell me if you did or didn't.

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Twenty Two

“This is bad, really bad,” said a pale faced Ron.

Harry had returned to find both Ron and Hermione waiting in the common room. Ron at first was in a slumber on the couch while Hermione was staring desperately into the crackling fire. She started when Harry climbed through the portrait hole and moaned when she saw the cut on Harry's scalp. After waking up Ron she ran off to fetch a bowl of water and a cloth. So now Harry was sitting on the couch with a wet cloth pressed to his forehead while Hermione sat beside him, a slight look of terror on her face.

Harry had told them everything he could remember of the events that had unfolded in the forest. Ron was shaking still from the mere mention of Voldemort's name. He was now pacing the small area between the two armchairs, his head bowed and his mouth open in a consistent rabble.

“I mean, here we are thinking Snape wants the Stone for himself, for the money or the thought of never-ending life. But no. It's You-Know-Who. You-Know-Who! What are we going to do? We have no chance trying to stop him,” he said, panicking and throwing his arms in the air for dramatics.

Harry thought. What were they going to do? Was it pointless even trying to stop Voldemort? He was a murderer and he had followers also capable of killing. Harry immediately thought of his parents. They died defending their own family and their own home but they were also defending something else. Something which still existed today.

Harry stood up, his hand falling to his side, the wet cloth now dripping onto the floor. Hermione and Ron were looking at him strangely. “Firenze still thinks there's a chance. The other centaurs must have seen Voldemort's return” at this both Ron and Hermione flinched “and therefore accepted that there is no other way. He can't return. The world is in enough turmoil without him,” said Harry his eyes moving from Hermione to Ron.

Ron just looked at him incredulously. “Harry, my dad, he's told me what it was like when He was trying to take control. People died just for being muggles or muggle-born. He tortured people and murdered families. What can we do against Him?” A long pause followed this question which at the moment sounded like more of a statement. Then Harry spoke and his voice seemed different, filled with more honesty than any other words ever spoken on earth.

“My parents died defending what was good in this world and if I have to do the same, I will,” Harry said, his keen green eyes boring into Ron's bright blue ones. As he had said this Harry seemed to become very still yet looked almost incensed at Ron. After a moment though, he visibly calmed down, his shoulders relaxing and he hung his head slightly.

Hermione, who hadn't spoken at all since Harry told them what had happened, seemed to find her voice as she watched Harry. “Hopefully it won't come to that. I mean, the Stone is still protected by the teachers. And I doubt Snape knows how to get past Fluffy. And I don't think Hagrid would tell anybody how to pass Fluffy.”

Ron slouched over to the armchair and fell into it. He looked tired from all of his pacing. “What about You-Know-Who?”

Hermione thought for a moment before answering “Well he wouldn't do anything at the moment if he doesn't have a body. Also you're forgetting that everyone says the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of was Dumbledore. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't act and Snape will have a hard time trying to get through Dumbledore as well.”

“Why can't we just tell Dumbledore that we suspect Snape of trying to steal the Stone for You-Know-Who,” started Ron but his voice faltered in the end when he realized how ridiculous it would sound when they told it to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“There's no proof. Not to mention that if he suspects us of knowing, it might spark a reaction. We can't risk that. We aren't in a position to take risks. Hermione's right, Dumbledore's presence slows down the process of stealing the Stone immensely. But by no means does it stop it,” said Harry.

He looked at Ron and Hermione who both had downcast faces. “I don't know what's going to happen. And I can't tell you that everything will be okay because I don't know if it will be…..but there's still hope. Firenze saw that. He was willing to go against the laws of his kind because he believed there was hope. And as long as there is hope then I know that I'll fight for it.”

Hermione smiled at him. “Me too,” she said sincerely.

Ron stood up, there was still a slightly discouraged look in his eyes but he spoke earnestly. “I'm in too. You're right. We can't just let him get the Stone `cause we're afraid.” He held out his hand and Harry shook it.

They sat talking for hours. Harry's cut had stopped bleeding. It was actually smaller than he had first believed it to be. It had healed much in the past few hours. By the time Ron decided to go to bed a pale light could be seen far away, morning was approaching. Harry's mind was still reeling but his body was exhausted and he didn't know which one to listen to. He was standing now, his hands buried in his pockets, looking deeply into the dying embers of the fire.

A hand on his shoulder started him. “Hermione…you should go on up and get some sleep while you can,” he advised. She rolled her eyes at him. “You're tired Harry. You should at least lie down. Also the cut might not be that deep but you still did have a nasty knock. You should rest,' she said concerned. He sighed and let her push him over to the couch. “You should continue to bathe the cut,' Hermione warned.

“No, I'm alright. You go on up and sleep,” he said groggily. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. Hermione thought he looked peaceful but knew that he was actually very troubled. Looking at his hands, resting in his lap, she knew he wasn't going to do anything about the cut on his scalp. It was now harder to see as it was covered by his overhanging fringe. Sighing she strode over and sat beside him on the couch. “You can be so stubborn. Did you know that?” she said frustrated. She dipped the cloth into the water and then placed it over the small incision. He leaned forward but she pushed him back. “You can get some rest, I'll hold this here. If I go now you won't do this,” she said irritably.

Harry leaned his head back again on the back of the couch. “Thanks,' he said. There was silence for a few minutes where they listened to the remaining logs in the fire break apart. “Harry,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Hmm?” he said drowsily. “When you were dueling…in the forest…where did you learn all those spells. They're pretty advanced.” She asked this quite hesitantly not wanting him to become defensive as he usually did. Harry opened his eyes and slowly removed her hand from his head. Standing up he made his way over to the mantelpiece and leaned against it, gazing into the fading orange, crimson layer mingled with ash and coal. He seemed to be in deep thought. Hermione could see the shadows under his eyes and guessed this wasn't the first night he had spent awake.

“Research,” he said simply and quietly. Hermione frowned. “But we've both been doing research. I haven't been learning the defense spells we've come across. Why did you?”

Harry turned and looked deeply into her eyes. There was sadness in his eyes she hadn't seen before. “It wasn't an accident. Nor was it a coincidence. I survived an Avada Kedavra curse. A killing curse,' he emphasized the word as if it gave him great pain to say it. “I don't know about fate or whether it even exists. But sometimes things happen that make you wonder if it does. And you wonder if our lives are completely controlled by an invisible force we can never lay eyes on or even dream to imagine of.” He paused. She wondered whether she should attempt to speak but realized she couldn't because she didn't know what to say.

“I don't know whether to believe in fate or not. But…I have to believe there was a reason I survived. Because whatever that reason is…it's probably why my parents were killed. Why I'm here now. I can't help thinking that night was the beginning of a circle, one which will eventually come back around. And I'm going to have to be ready when it does.” He had sat down on the couch and then slumped to the floor. His eyes returned to the fire.

Hermione cleared her throat. “So…you think He will come back. That You-Know-Who will return. And that's why you've been learning extra defensive magic. To protect what he wants.”

“Well he's not going to stop trying until he does find a way. He won't be too pleased to see me if he does return either. There's just something that doesn't fit. Actually…. a lot of things that don't seem to fit. Why didn't I die when he performed the Killing Curse or why didn't he die if it rebounded?” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Then groaned as he grazed his cut with his hand. “Anyway, I've been looking up books devoted to defensive magic and also dueling. It's been a great asset since the Troll and the journey into the forest.”

“Well, it has been a busy year, hasn't it,” Hermione said amusingly. Harry chuckled at her ability to make light of such a dire situation. “Well Mr. Potter. Would you be interested in a dueling partner?” she asked lightly. Harry thought for a moment. A small smirk appeared on his face. “Hmm, I don't know. I really don't like to beat girls.” Hermione slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Hey, I'd be a match for you any day, Potter,” she declared. They both laughed for a while, Harry had his legs stretched out in front of him so that he looked like a rag doll or a disused puppet. Hermione removed the bowl of water from the couch and then stretched out on it. They were now both staring at the fire.

Harry was thinking of everything that had happened to him from the moment he had attacked Snape in the Dursley's hallway. He had faced danger more than once. He had been isolated from society but to be honest he had gone through most of his life like that. But he had also met people that had changed his life. He had been plain terrified at the beginning of the school year to even have a conversation with someone. But then he had met Hermione. She was one of those people who he was sure had changed his life for the better. He turned his head around and stared at her. Her eyes were closed lightly but he knew she wasn't asleep. Her arm was tucked under her head and a strand of hair was falling slightly across her face. “What are you staring at? Or are you just in deep thought again,” she asked sleepily, her eyes remaining closed.

“Just thinking about fate,” he said, laughing lightly at her drowsy expression.

Nothing unusual had happened since the forest and Harry remained on constant alert. Their exams were approaching, something which was terrifying Hermione. Harry was left with the question of whether Hermione was more horrified by the thought of failing an exam more than she was of Voldemort. The other students had also started taking out text books and going over them in the evenings which were now accepting the sunny glow of approaching summer. As May began the crisp winds seemed to blow themselves out so that the air was warm with the hint of summer and the number of students spending their time outside was ever increasing.

Harry was starting to do more about learning to duel. Hermione accompanied him and made the whole ordeal easier. He could practice spells and also their effects more closely. They would first perform the spell and at the end of each session they would have a brief duel. Hermione seemed to struggle slightly with some of the spells or incantations. She would become very frustrated, something which Harry tried to avoid. They also focused on movement in a duel as it was essential that one wouldn't take a hit and also that they open up a chance to target their opponent.

From asking older students, their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson wouldn't start teaching them about curses and spells until roughly about fourth year. They would mainly be learning about magical creatures that were hostile and potentially dangerous. Through dueling together they were both benefiting but they had to be extra careful so as to not really harm the other person. Harry was reluctant to stun or impede Hermione, terrified he might give her a bloody nose or worse, knock her out.

Nearly a month had passed since Harry's journey into the forest. Because he was so distracted, time seemed to double. Exams started and Harry found that they were much easier than they were made out to be. They had a small written examination and in some subjects such as Charms and Potions they would have a practical. Because of the exams, Harry and Hermione finished dueling as they did it twice a week and now they had to put time into studying. They had only learned three spells; well Harry had taught Hermione the Stunning spell and Impediment Jinx. The Disarming Spell they had started together. These spells focused on aiming so when Harry took Hermione to the Room of Requirement there were two shooting ranges with targets to aim for.

The lack of movement surrounding the Philosophers Stone was really puzzling Harry. He had been told to keep a look out, expecting something to happen but still nothing had. Dumbledore remained at the castle, showing his face most nights at dinner. Harry had thought that Dumbledore would be lured from the castle if Snape was to attempt to steal the Stone.

Their exams ended much to the students' pleasure. Ron had been driving Harry and Hermione crazy asking for help. He used to sit at a table most of the night, surrounded by small paperback books, a feather quill lying unused in his hand and a look of complete look of distress on his face. His flabbergasted expression earned some help from some other students who had already prepared.

The day the exams ended was a truly magnificent day. The sun shone high in a cloudless sky so that when looked at it was like a canvas of baby blue. Waves of heat radiated from the burning sun sending students outside into the fresh grounds. The lake, on whose face the sun sparkled, was surrounded by students with shirts hanging open, their jumpers discarded. The eager shouts and screams of happiness could be heard from within the castle. Ron who had joined Harry and Hermione inside the castle asked them to go outside as some Gryffindors were going for a swim in the lake.

Harry was reluctant at first to leave the castle. He didn't love the sun, he felt as if it got in his way. It was probably from spending so much time locked in a dark cupboard. But Hermione seemed eager to get out of the castle so he gave in at the look of happiness on her face. When they reached the grounds, Harry adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, as if he hoped to block out the sun. Hermione had discarded of her jumper and Ron was only wearing a t-shirt. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying having no exams or worries. It looked as if he hadn't worried over the threat of Voldemort since there wasn't any sign of anything happening. Maybe it was seeing the dead lifeless body of the unicorn that kept everything so real in Harry's mind.

He kept his jumper on and his shirt was still neat, unlike most of the students. At the edge of the lake they found a small unoccupied space where they sat down. Most students were running around like maniacs just let out of a psychiatric hospital. Hermione just lay down and seemed to be sunbathing. She had her arm draped over her face to block out the sun shining through her closed eyelids. Harry was staring out across the lake. The Weasley twins had erected a high diving board on the side of the lake and were now charging people to use it. They both wore satisfied smiles as counted up their takings.

Harry felt a hand grab his wrist. “Come on, Harry. Relax, even just a bit,” encouraged Hermione. Harry sighed and lay down on his back, his hands folded behind his head. `So what's the point of this then?' he asked sarcastically. “To relax. Let the sun rush away your problems and bathe in peaceful joy,' Hermione said contentedly. Harry only lasted about half a second before he choked out laughing. “Bathe in peaceful joy…ha ha,” he managed through his laughing. Hermione wasn't amused. She looked at him dangerously but then sported an evil grin which made Harry stop laughing instantly.

Before Harry knew it Hermione was on top of him, tickling mercilessly. Harry had never, in his life, been this close to anybody. And he then knew that at that moment there was nobody he would rather have been closer to. He then used all his strength to push Hermione off him. He rolled over so there positions were reversed and he started tickling Hermione with as much compassion as she showed him. She was wriggling and yelling hysterically, tears formed in her eyes from laughing so much.

And then it stopped and they were both still. The sounds around them had seemingly vanished. All thoughts of the previous days disappeared and what remained in the future didn't matter anymore. Harry, who was still positioned over her, was looking deeply into her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts. They remained still, neither of them waiting for anything, until a voice broke over them “Mr. and Mr. Weasley. What on earth do you think you're doing?!” said Professor McGonagall shouted astounded. As McGonagall walked over to them for an explanation, Harry rolled over onto the ground. There was just silence now between him and Hermione. But then Harry saw something and his heart stopped. “Hermione, do you thing the lights are on in Hagrid's?” he asked cautiously. She turned and lifted her head. “No. Why?” she asked, confused.

Harry stood up quickly and ran flat out across the grounds. Hermione and Ron, who had seen them leave, followed him. Harry skidded to a halt at the door of Hagrid's hut. “What's going on?” said Ron perplexed. Harry started banging on Hagrid's door shouting his name. After a minute of this Harry started throwing himself at the solid wooden door, in order to attempt to break it down. Hermione was about to advise another course of action when the door burst open and Harry fell through it and went flying into Hagrid's table and chairs. “How did you manage to break down that door,” Harry heard Ron say astonished. Harry quickly picked himself up and then saw Hagrid lying on the floor by his bed, unconscious. Hermione ran over to Hagrid and looked him over. “He's fine. Just unconscious. What do you think happened?”

Harry was already looking through Hagrid's things feverishly. The place was a mess. Hanging baskets of eggs had fallen and smashed to the floor. His table was overturned and his kettle was lying desolate on the wooden floor. One of his chairs was broken into pieces. “There was definitely a struggle,” stated Ron. It was then that Harry found a glass phial that was used to hold potions. There was a transparent substance in the end of it. Harry didn't recognize it. Nearly jumping across the room he held it in front of Hermione who had to grab his hand to stop him shaking. “What is it?” he asked anxiously. Hermione stared at the liquid for a moment before she started. “It could be Veritaserum. A Truth potion,” she explained.

Harry looked at the phial and he felt his insides freeze. “He knows. How to get past Fluffy. He knows.”

There was silence for a moment. “I bet you anything that Dumbledore has been called away,” finished Harry.

“Well we have to alert someone. If we go now we'll catch McGonagall,” said Hermione.

“What about Hagrid?” said Ron who was now whiter than a fictional ghost.

“He'll be fine once he wakes up and he will wake up. It was probably a knock on the head,' said Hermione. “That was one hard knock,” admonished Ron looking at Hagrid's giant form.

“We have to go NOW! By the time McGonagall comes and wakes up Hagrid and then gets Dumbledore, who I'm sure is gone by now, the Stone will be gone. You said you were in. Are you?” Harry said.

“Alright,” said Ron, trying to calm himself down. “Let's go,” said Hermione. “We'll leave the door open so someone might find Hagrid,' said Harry. He turned and looked at Hagrid. “Sorry Hagrid. We've got to go.”

With that they quickly hurried back up to the castle. Harry could almost feel Dumbledore's absence. “WAIT” they heard someone shout from behind them. Harry spun around removing his wand from his pocket. Neville Longbottom was standing with his own wand pointing at Harry. His hand was shaking and he looked to be out of breath. “Did you do that to Hagrid? I followed you and I found him. Did you do it?” he asked nervously. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Of course we didn't. Listen Neville, you have to go and get McGonagall. Tell her about Hagrid,” said Harry quickly. “Where are you's going then? You're not going to lose more points for Gryffindor, are you? He stammered.

“Neville, listen. This is way above Gryffindor or Hogwarts or exams. They don't matter anymore. What does matter is, you have to warn McGonagall. Tell her, tell her,” Harry paused, wondering what to say. He couldn't tell Neville about the Philosophers Stone. “Tell her that the protection is broken. Hagrid will know what we're talking about.”

Neville once again hesitated. But then he lowered his wand to his side. `Okay, I'll go now,” he said.

They watched him run off and then they made their own way to the third floor corridor. They stopped outside just for a moment. “Are you guys sure you want to come?” he whispered. They both nodded their heads and Harry silently walked through the door.

The first thing he noticed was that Fluffy was fast asleep. Sweet tingling music sounded from the corner of the room and Harry saw a beautifully ornate harp seemingly playing itself. Obviously music was the key to pass Fluffy. Harry signaled for them to move quietly closer to the trapdoor. Bending low over the trapdoor, Harry opened it using the iron rings attached to it. He was looking into a deep black seemingly endless hole. “Who's first?” he mouthed. Hermione moved forward and was about to climb into the open space when Harry grabbed her hand. She looked at him momentarily and then squeezed his hand before jumping into the darkness. Ron followed her. Harry took one last look at the corridor before taking a deep breath and plunging into the unknown abyss.

Hope you like it. Thanks for reading. Review if you want.

Is there anything you really want to see in the next chapter? Remember, I like hearing your suggestions. As long as you don't suggest to me to stop writing. lol

Take care,

Radagast.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Harry felt cool air rushing past him and then he felt himself being engulfed in water. The water closed in over his head and he could make out the entrance from the trapdoor glimmering above. Closing his eyes against the dirty water he pushed with his feet and his head broke the surface of what he assumed was an underground lake. Taking deep breaths he swam towards the yells and shouts he could hear coming on his left. He felt a hand grab his arm and turned to see Ron pulling him onto his feet.

As Harry set himself upright, he realized he was standing on the top of a stone ramp that led into a lake of dark water. It seemed to him he was standing at one end of a tunnel. The black lake was the breath of the tunnel, only a few feet, but as for the length Harry couldn't fathom. The water was only at ankle-height now but Harry wondered what its depth was further out. Looking to his right Harry saw Hermione shaking from the effects of the cold water. Harry waded over to her and put his arm around her. They were all drenched and shivering but she was the only one wearing a skirt.

“That was unexpected,” stated Ron. “I didn't think there was going to be water. All I saw was darkness.”

“Did you notice that there were actually two trapdoors? One was on the other end of the corridor,” said Hermione. “There are two ways down here. I wonder where the other one leads to. Let's get out of this water. It's kind of creepy.” She started making her way up the ramp onto a dry step that led into a narrow tunnel. Ron followed her, his hair was drenched and he was also trembling. Harry thought he heard something stir out in the dark water. Ron turned to see Harry, his head posed as if listening and his eyes narrowed as he tried to distinguish something out in the darkness.

“Is there something out there?” Ron said in a terrified whisper. Harry slowly looked down to see great rippling rings forming on the surface of the water. He watched with bated breath as the ripples grew and came closer, some already lapping around his ankles. And then Harry sensed some ancient power dwelling in the deep water. He felt its anger and confusion. Ripping his eyes away he quickly turned to Ron. “Go! Now!”

As he started to move towards the dry step where Hermione was now standing, he felt something grasp him by the ankle and he fell back into the water with a splash. He heard Ron give a yell and then Hermione's screams reverberated throughout the tunnel. The grip around his ankle tightened as the water now surrounded him, reaching up to his chin it seemed to also be attempting to drown him. He spun in the water to see the lake incensed as if a host of snakes were swimming up from the unperceivable darkness.

Harry felt himself being dragged under the water and the yelling from his friends ceased immediately as the noise of rushing water filled his ears. Then through the sound of pressing water he heard a new sound. A deep resonant drone was issuing from something in the lake.

Harry's eyes slowly adjusted to their new underwater surroundings and he now saw what had hold of his ankle. A long twisting tentacle was wrapped around it; and surrounding it were many others, thrashing about in the water. It was then that Harry saw the owner of the numerous tentacles and fear gripped his heart.

There were no eyes that Harry could see. No nose or any other facial features. But there was a mouth. An enormous wide gaping hole filled with innumerable teeth. The teeth were long and narrow, with sharp ends for ripping and tearing. Filth clung to them like shells on a shore. Harry would have guessed he was dead already but then he saw his wand drifting away from his pocket from the lack of gravity and it gave him hope. Grabbing it, Harry knew he would have to rely on wandless magic.

“Stupefy,” he thought desperately, his wand pointed at the tentacle holding him. The long winding tentacle froze and Harry quickly tried to rematerialize on the surface of the water. He was already starved of oxygen. He felt the cold air on his face and screamed “Hermione! Stunners!” before he felt something else seize his ankle and was hauled back under the water. As he looked upon the dreadful sight before him he saw that there were now jets of light in the water and many of the tentacles were freezing in their position. Harry aimed a stunner at the tentacle now holding him, but nothing happened. He felt a pressure build in his head and knew it was the lack of air that was hindering his magic.

A long sinuous tentacle started to pull him closer and closer to the cavernous teeth infested mouth. Harry tried kicking at the tentacle but it was useless. He was easily going to fit within the void of the creature's mouth. He then felt the firmness of the rigid teeth against his shoulder and knew the ghastly monster was preparing to kill him. He felt one of the razor sharp teeth pierce his shoulder. He couldn't make out much considering the lack of light but he knew he was on the edge of the dark chasm and also the edge of his life. But deep down he knew he didn't want to die like this. He wasn't going to. Gripping his wand tightly in his hand and letting the knowledge that this was his last chance flood his mind, he pointed his wand directly into the gaping hole and in his mind screamed `Diffindo'.

A great roar reached his ears and he felt the creature being knocked back. Black liquid was now diffusing throughout the water. The blood of the creature was spilling from the long fissure Harry had cut through the roof of its mouth. Kicking his legs frantically Harry made it to the surface of the water. The creature had withdrawn to the depths of the tunnel. Harry's limbs ached and he didn't think he could make it to the edge of the water. But then he felt Ron grab him and drag him to the step. Harry was panting and he tried to continue breathing normally. His whole body was shaking from fright. He was lying down flat on his back. Hermione and Ron were bending over him. There was now an eerie silence within the tunnel that did nothing to calm Harry down.

“Harry, Harry! Are you alright? Can you hear me?” Hermione kept repeating worriedly. It took a minute for Harry to register what she was saying as his mind was still racing. Then when his fear had subsided slightly he turned and looked at her. “Yeah, I'm fine. Come on, we better hurry. I don't want to spend anymore time in this tunnel,” he said trying to stand up. Hermione pushed him back down. “No you're not. Look at your shoulder,” she said indicating where his jumper and shirt had a hole pierced through them and blood was trickling out of it. “Just a flesh wound,” said Harry with a reassuring smile. He stood up holding his shoulder. “I'm alright. We better move. I don't want to linger here.'

Hermione and Ron followed him apprehensively and Harry took one last glance at the lake. The blood of the enormous creature was still dissipating throughout the water but there was no other movement or ripples on the surface of the water. Harry hoped that whatever the creature was was dead. The image of its many teeth stayed in his mind for the rest of his life.

Turning Harry walked through a small doorway that led into a narrow passageway of stone. Harry could feel the water swimming around in his shoes. He could also hear the squelch after each of their footsteps. He stopped and turned to the others. Lighting his wand he turned to see Ron's pale face illuminated by the small amount of light created. “Let's prepare a bit for the next obstacle,” he said darkly taking off his shoe, turning it upside down and watching the water flow out of it. After they had all done this Ron asked the question they had all been asking themselves. “What was that thing?”

“I don't know. But I don't think it was put there for the protection of the Stone. My guess is that we're miles beneath the school. And that water creature added to the protection automatically. I didn't see any dead bodies down there so I'm going to guess that whoever we're following took the other trapdoor and is still alive,” said Harry.

“What do you mean by `whoever we're following'? Ron asked suspiciously. “Don't you think its Snape?”

Harry looked at him. He was still torn between Snape and Quirrell but at the moment he wasn't into arguing so he just agreed it was Snape. “Harry, you're freezing. If you stay like that you could develop hypothermia,” said Hermione anxiously. Harry looked at her for a moment. He was freezing but there wasn't anything he could do right now. He didn't know a Drying charm nor did he know a Warming charm. Also he was worried at how much time they were held up by the subterranean creature. He wondered whether the thief had already got to the Stone. “I'm fine,” he said but then he saw Hermione's exasperated expression and added “Okay, I've been better. But the sooner we go on the sooner we'll get out of here.”

Hermione nodded, agreeing, and they continued on their way down the stone passageway. Harry could hear the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. He felt the passageway begin to slope downwards, but very slightly. Then Harry saw a sliver of light at the end of the passageway. “Keep your wands ready,” Harry whispered. When they reached the end they found themselves in a circular stone room. It was dark and damp but the first thing Harry noticed was that in the ceiling there seemed to be a tunnel or slide leading into the room from some height above them. “I bet if you followed that slide up that it would lead back to the other trapdoor,” guessed Harry.

“Oh my god,' whispered Hermione astounded. Harry turned to see what she was looking at, but ended up cursing himself for not looking at the room before walking into it. The room was filled with what looked like a huge plant. It was then that Harry noticed that he was even standing on it. Each footstep was like walking in a bowl of jelly. Harry heard Hermione's voice behind him. “Devil's Snare! It's amazing. One of the most murderous plants on earth,” she said excitedly. “Don't worry its dead. Snape must have killed it when he came down here,” she added after seeing the look of terror that Ron gave her. “It's a pity. They really are quite fabulous,” she said sadly.

“Are you mental?! A killing plant. How sad that it didn't try to murder us,” said Ron sarcastically. Harry bent low and examined the plant more closely. It was luminous green in color and it felt slimy to touch. Tendrils were laying on the surface of it. Harry presumed that when alive the plant was probably menacing but now it looked rather melancholy. “We better go on,” he said after a moment of silence.

They continued on through another passageway exactly the same as the previous one. A wooden door stood at the end of the passage. Harry approached it cautiously and then opened it slowly. They all walked through the doorway and found themselves in a long rectangular room. It was brightly lit by magnificent chandeliers which hung from the roof. The floor was of hard marble and was richly decorated. Tall menacing suits of armor were lined up on either side of the room. Harry guessed there was about eight of them altogether.

“Do we just walk to the other side?” Ron asked perplexed.

“If you want to fight the knights,” said Harry calmly. Harry looked at him with raised eyebrows before making his way down the hall.

Immediately the suits of armor sprung to life. Harry instantaneously started firing off every spell and hex he knew. The armored suits were equipped with broad swords which they swiped through the air dangerously. Harry noticed that they weren't agile and moved very rigidly. This was a huge advantage to him as he could easily spot where to target.

Ron and Hermione watched transfixed as suits of armor had their heads blown off or were smashed to pieces by the strength of Harry's spells. Soon Harry was surrounded by four of them. A darker grey suit of armor stepped forward, threateningly swinging a menacing medieval mace. Harry gulped as the knight swung it high in the air and brought it back down with tremendous force, aimed at Harry's head. He ducked at the last minute and the mace crashed into the ground, splintering the marble. The owner of the spiked metal ball was fruitlessly trying to remove it from the crater it had formed in the ground.

Another suit of armor lurched towards Harry but at the last minute a jet of red light hit it where it wasn't protected by metal and it fell with a clatter to the ground. Harry saw Hermione step forward with her wand pointed directly where the suit of armor had been. “Thanks,” he said breathlessly.

“Come on! We have to reach the other side,” shouted Ron, dodging a suit of armor as it thrashed towards him. Harry quickly grabbed Hermione and started evading the swords that swung over their heads. He pulled her to the door which was flanked by two brackets holding red flames. Ron was already there and as they approached it he swung the door open and they all ran through it. “Wow, Harry. Where did you learn to fight like that?” said Ron admiringly as he shut the door behind them. They heard the noise of metal hitting wood coming from the other side of the door as the suits of armor threw themselves at it trying to get through.

Harry was leaning against a wall, panting and holding his shoulder in pain. “I'm guessing that was Flitwick. It must be a charm that made those suits of armor move. Devil's Snare must have been Professor Sprouts.”

The chamber they were in now was suddenly flooded with light. A scene of complete destruction met their eyes. Harry heard Hermione take a quick intake of breath while Ron gasped loudly. “This is a chessboard. Or at least it used to be,” he said as he moved closer to the edge of a huge squared board. Harry could make out the different colored squares, an opulent marble white and a deep ornate blue.

Boulders of broken stone were strewn across the board and it was then that Harry turned his attention to the large figures standing motionless on the board. They towered above him and Harry got a shiver down his spine as he looked at their non-existent faces, expressionless and merciless. “You must have had to play across the board,” said Harry thoughtfully looking at the shattered debris on either side of the board. “McGonagall must have transfigured the chess pieces. It seems our thief is quite the chess player. Look at all this wreckage.”

Suddenly there was a thunderous pounding coming towards them. The whole chessboard which they were standing on was quivering with each pounding noise. Harry recognized the noise as approaching footsteps. Then through the door which they had to continue through stepped a gigantic troll, larger than the one they had faced in the girls toilets. Ron who hadn't encountered a troll before took a step back pulling his t-shirt over his nose to block out the disgusting smell. Harry could see the horror and panic in his eyes. Dust seeped out of the debris lying about the chessboard with each tremor that ran through the room.

Hermione inched closer to Harry and grabbed his forearm. `What are we going to do? Stunners won't work against him,” she said fearfully. “He's already fought with the thief, he must be slightly weary. We need to knock it out. It's guarding the next room and I bet it won't let us through. We can't try and escape it, it'll just follow us. I think we can to do this,” said Harry.

He pulled her silently from the board into the shadows of the room where Ron was standing shaking with fear. The troll hadn't spotted them but Harry guessed he knew they were there.

“Stay here. When I give the signal, start to throw stunners at him. It should confuse it,” Harry said before noiselessly edging his way to the other side of the chessboard. The troll dragged its large club into the centre of the plaza that was the chessboard. Harry heard it heavy breathing and grunting.

Then taking a deep breath Harry jumped out onto the chessboard. He fired a burst of flame at it which sent the troll into a frenzy. It roared out in anger. “Now,” shouted Harry. Jets of red light bounced off the thick grey flesh of the troll. Harry dodged a rebounding spell and then sent another spurt of flame at the troll.

He caught a glimpse of Ron throwing pieces of a smashed pawn at the troll to distract it. Then the troll turned its beady eyes away from Harry and started to stumble towards where Ron was standing.

Making his mind up in a matter of seconds Harry sprinted towards the vast back of the troll. Concentrating hard he jumped with all his might. Everything seemed to slow down and Harry leaped higher than was allowed by gravity. He ended up at the neck of the troll. His arms wouldn't fit around the broad neck of the creature so he grabbed onto what appeared to be a thick collar fastened around its neck. A piercing pain shot through Harry's injured shoulder and he grabbed it to decrease the stinging. He was now holding on by one hand when the troll continued its advance towards his friends. It obviously hadn't noticed that Harry was hanging onto it by its collar.

Everything slowed down for all the wrong reasons as Harry watched the troll's great wooden club crash into the place where his two friends stood. “Nooooooooooo,” he screamed. His mind went blank for what seemed like an age. Then he suddenly came back to his senses and pointing his wand at the base of the troll's neck he shouted “STUPEFY” and a burst of light filled the room before the troll sank to the ground, defeated.

Harry dismounted the troll and ran to the area where his friends had been. Dust swirled around in a ghostly manner blocking Harry's view. It took a minute for Harry to realize he was screaming their names but then he heard a shuffling to his left and scurried over to see Ron covered in dust picking himself up off the ground. He seemed fine as he began to sweep the dust off his trousers. “Ron, are you alright?” Harry said worriedly.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I jumped out of the way. Just in time to.”

“Where's Hermione?!” Harry shouted at him.

“She got out of the way too….. I think,” he said apprehensively.

Harry started to frantically search the ground for her. Large pieces of stone lay forgotten by the walls and other pieces had been smashed to bits. Harry then heard a coughing noise coming from somewhere ahead of him. He ran to where he heard the noise and to his ears it sounded like sweet music. There he spotted Hermione lying on the ground covered in dust. Her hair was now white from the stone that lay around her.

“Hermione,” croaked Harry helping her off the ground.

“I'm okay Harry. Really. I just knocked my head off the rock.”

She was holding onto him for support. She seemed to be very weak. Her eyes were closed and her hand was wrapped around Harry's neck. Harry felt overwhelmed with relief though at the sight of her moving.

Ron was now standing behind them looking in awe at the troll lying unconscious at the centre of the chessboard. “So, what now? Do we continue or go back?” he asked looking at Hermione. Harry honestly didn't know what to do next. He wanted to go on but Hermione seemed to have a concussion and he wondered whether she could go on.

After hearing Harry's silence Hermione opened her eyes and stared intently at him. “We're going on.”

Harry looked at her. `But….”

“But nothing. We didn't come this far to stop and turn back around. We only have Snape's left. That troll must have been Quirrell's.”

Harry knew Hermione meant well but he was still worried. There wasn't anything he could do now. It would be hard enough to go back through the suits of armor then somehow fly through the trapdoor and Fluffy. There wasn't anything for it.

He looked at Hermione's determined face and nodded his head. “Come on, let's go.”

Hermione could walk fine once she was supported by Harry. She looked a bit disorientated but also resolute in continuing. They past the trolls room without hesitation and continued into the next one. As soon as they stepped over the threshold of the next room a fire with purple flames sprang up blocking their way out. Another fire with black flames leaped up around the doorway leading onwards. The room was absolutely freezing and Harry felt himself shiver. He could see his breath rise in a mist before him.

“Oh great,” moaned Ron. “We're trapped in a freezer.”

In the centre of the room was a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing in a line. Hermione started dragging Harry over to the table and picked up a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. She squinted her eyes to read it; Harry guessed she was having problems focusing. “It's a puzzle. Typical Snape- it's not magic-its logic.” She looked over the paper again and then turned to Harry. `Seven bottles: three are poison” Ron gulped “two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple,” she explained, a slight small on her face. Harry raised his eyebrows at her gleeful expression. “I love puzzles,” she admitted.

Together they sorted through the bottles. After a few minutes they were left with the two needed bottles. Harry picked up the one needed to progress through the black flames. There was hardly one swallow in it. He knew immediately what had to be done.

“I'm going on. No- listen- you two go back through the purple flames. That troll is knocked out. He won't awake for hours. Hopefully Neville warned McGonagall and Hagrid told them what has happened. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore is probably on his way back as we speak. But the thief might be gone by the time he gets here. I might be able to hold him up. Distract him or something.”

Ron once again looked pale and glanced at the purple flames longingly. Hermione stared at Harry anxiously. “But what if You-Know-Who is there?

“I don't know. But I've got to do something. I can't just watch everything unfold. Now drink up and get out of this room. Lock yourselves in the troll's chamber. There's nothing there to harm you as the troll's in with the chessboard. And it's warmer than here,” he said, his teeth chattering slightly.

Hermione, who had been leaning against the table dashed towards him and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. Harry felt her warm breath against his neck as she spoke and it sent a warming sensation through him. “Harry- you're a great wizard. And you're brave and- oh- please be careful.” She sobbed. She pulled away from him but was still holding on slightly to his jumper.

Harry took her hand in his. “Thanks. For everything.” He whispered.

Ron came over and gave him a very manly hug, slapping him on the back. “She's right you know. You are a great wizard.”

“Er…thanks,” he said feeling slightly embarrassed. Ron made his way over to the table and picked up a round-bottomed flask that held the potion he needed. He then made his way over to the flames, waiting for Hermione. Hermione seemed hesitant to leave Harry to face this alone. She was still slightly teary-eyed. She wrapped her arms around him again in a tighter embrace than the last one. “Please. Take care,” she breathed.

Harry felt slightly cold inside, realizing he couldn't ensure her he was going to be okay. He felt as if he was letting her down. She let go of him and walked silently over to Ron. They both took a small drink from the bottle and then made their way wordlessly through the purple flames.

Harry looked down into his own bottle. The black liquid looked like glass it was so still.

He drained the bottle in one gulp. The liquid felt like ice flowing through his body. At the dancing flames he braced himself and then took a step forward. The flames licked his body but he couldn't feel them at all. He walked through them and found himself in a dark passageway that was gently sloping further downwards. He found himself dreading every step but knew he had to continue on. The darkness pressing around him did nothing to calm him. Then he saw a flicker of light at end of the passageway and slowed down his pace so that whoever was down there wouldn't see him approach.

End Chapter

Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Review and tell me if you liked or disliked the different obstacles.

I was kinda worried that they'd take away the theme or essence of the story.

Anyway you needn't worry; you shouldn't have to wait long for the next chapter.

Thanks again for reading

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Twenty Four

When Harry reached the end of the passageway he remained in the dark. He was now in a large square chamber. Four pillars stood out a little from each corner of the room. The chamber was dimly lit which gave Harry a curious sense of foreboding. Silently, Harry crept behind the nearest stone pillar. He peered out from behind the cylindrical column and spotted Professor Quirrell pacing the chamber floor anxiously. He then stopped and approached something in the centre of the chamber. It was then that Harry noticed the Mirror of Erised standing solemnly and motionless as Quirrell circled it hungrily like a starved vulture.

Then Quirrell started to speak and Harry immediately noticed that his stutter had vanished. He seemed so much more alert and confident. Harry even noticed his gait displayed more self-assurance. Harry strained to hear the words he spoke to the mirror.

“The mirror is the key. But what does this involve? Must I look within it for the answer,” he said in a frustrated manner. Harry then heard a slight gasp of shock and guessed that Quirrell had seen something in the mirror. He continued to mutter to himself. “I see myself. I'm presenting the precious Stone to my master. But how do I get it?! Must I break it!” he shouted angrily.

It was then that Harry knew he had stop Quirrell from destroying the mirror. If he did break the mirror it would destroy any chance Harry had of getting the Philosophers Stone. He stepped out from behind the pillar, drawing his wand as he did so. Quirrell immediately spun around, his wand pointing directly at Harry. A sly smile appeared on Quirrell's face. “Well, well, well, Potter. Surprised to see me,” he said calmly.

“Not completely,” Harry replied evenly. “It was a tie between you and Professor Snape.”

Quirrell let out a harsh cold laugh that rang around the chamber and sent a shiver down Harry's spine. “Yes, Severus does seem quite the betrayer and thief. I suppose you thought he tried to kill you,” he said simply, waiting for a surprised look from Harry.

Harry kept his face impassive. “He was seen muttering a jinx. I guess I jumped to conclusions too rashly. It was you. Was Snape trying to help?”

“Help!” Quirrell screamed with delight. “Severus wouldn't help me. He was protecting you. Muttering his little counter- jinx. Saving you. Why bother? Eh? You're going to die tonight anyway,” he said before sending a curse Harry's way.

Harry dodged the beam of light and smiled wryly at the man's contorted face. “I'm not finished talking yet. Why would Snape want to save me? He's always seemed to dislike me so much.”

Quirrell twisted face calmed slightly and he began talking again. “He does hate you. An old feud between your father and the overgrown bat left him the way he is today. They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead. I can't think for the life of me, why?” he said with a horrible smile. “Why not murder the great Harry Potter? He shot another curse at Harry which Harry blocked. Harry then sent a stunner flying towards Quirrell which he narrowly missed. Harry raised an eyebrow at the shocked look on Quirrell's thin face.

“Did you think I would sit idly by and watch someone attempt to resurrect Lord Voldemort?

Fear masked Quirrell's face. “Do not speak the Dark Lord's name,” he hissed. “My master suffered because of you. Fear him as you should. May death behold you.”

“Death already holds me,” said Harry quietly. “My parents' deaths sent me here tonight. And will also be the reason for your failure.” He paused letting his words sink in. Quirrell did seem less casual as he had been at the beginning of the conversation.

“So tell me,” Harry started again trying to buy time. “How does a simple young man end up playing servant to Voldemort?”

Quirrell flinched visibly at the mention of his masters' name but began to talk anyway. “I met him…while traveling. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. The Dark Lord showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it. I became a faithful servant and regained my position at Hogwarts, under the fool of Dumbledore. My attempts to steal the Stone have so far been unsuccessful. But now I will succeed.”

He suddenly sent another curse at Harry who hadn't suspected it. Harry was thrown off his feet and crashed into a pillar. His wand flew from his hand. “Enough of this stupid nonsense,' Quirrell said irritably. With another wave of his wand Harry was sent soaring into the air and collided heavily with another of the stone columns. Harry could barely breathe from how much pain his body was enduring. Pieces of stone and dust covered him from head to foot. His glassed were smashed and blood trickled down the side of his face from where a piece of glass had shattered and cut his skin just below his eye. Harry almost felt paralyzed from the pain. Every bone in his body seemed to scream from the it.

Quirrell had returned his attention to the mirror after seeing Harry's struggling form. “What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”

Harry heard a voice answer. A slight hiss coming from within Quirrell. `Use the boy…use the boy…”

Quirrell rounded on Harry. He strode over to him and dragged him across the floor to face the mirror. Harry tried to struggle against Quirrell's iron clad grip but Quirrell countered by aiming a kick at Harry's mid-section leaving Harry thoroughly winded. When he had placed him in front of the mirror Harry sank to the ground, not having the ability or will to stand on his own feet.

Quirrell heaved Harry up off the ground using his jumper as a collar. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see,” commanded Quirrell. Harry shut his eyes and averted his head from the mirror. “DO IT!” screamed Quirrell hysterically. But Harry didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Quirrell threw him roughly to the ground and walked off again muttering to himself and cursing.

Harry's mind was racing. He could barely move and Quirrell seemed to have attained extra power from somewhere. And Harry knew that Voldemort was the one who had given strength to Quirrell but he had also taken it away simultaneously. Harry now knew also why Quirrell wore the ridiculous purple turban.

Voldemort had obviously been using him as a temporary body.

Harry heard the ominous sounds of Quirrell's agitated footsteps. He was distracted and Harry saw a tiny glimmer of hope. Using his hands to pull himself around to face the mirror he looked into it from the ground. He immediately saw himself staring back out at him lying on the ground. But the image of him in the mirror didn't have any injuries and he wore a smile. In his hand he held the blood red Philosophers Stone and as Harry watched, he dropped it into his pocket. Harry gasped slightly as he felt the new weight of the Stone in his pocket.

He then heard footstep approaching from behind him and winced as he rolled over. Then he heard the high cruel voice of Voldemort coming from under the turban of Quirrell. “He needs more persuasion. Let me speak to him…face to face.” Quirrell hesitated in his answer, wringing his hands. “Master…you…you are not strong enough,” he stammered.

There was a silence and Harry knew Voldemort was angry. Quirrell immediately started to tremble as he hurried to unwrap his turban, the cloth falling to the ground noiselessly. He turned slowly on the spot leaving Harry to stare in horror at the now hideous face of Voldemort imprinted on the back of Quirrell's small head. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils.

Harry had now stopped breathing afraid that something might happen if he dared to. The face smiled deviously. “I shock you Harry Potter. I have become mere shadow and vapor. A hint of my former self.

What little strength I have has been aided by unicorn blood which my faithful servant has drunk for me.

But now with the Elixir of Life I will be able to create a body of my own. So why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?”

Harry, using all of his strength, dragged himself onto his feet. He swayed slightly from the buckling pain in his legs. Voldemort smiled serenely. “Ah…bravery. They say it conquers all. I do not believe so. Your parents had it, but I murdered them quite easily. Your father put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn't have died…she was trying to protect you. Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.”

“As if you'd let me live,” said Harry taking a slow step back. “SEIZE HIM” screamed Voldemort. Harry summoned his wand wordlessly and immediately shot a spell at Quirrell who was sent flying backwards. Harry then tried to run from the chamber but found he went slowly and was limping. Then Quirrell, with a wave of his wand, sent Harry soaring through the air and he slammed heavily back onto the ground in a heap. Harry rolled over instantly trying desperately to ignore the pain riddling through his body.

“Expelliarmus” Harry shouted at Quirrell who was now standing directly over him, his wand pointed at Harry's heart. Quirrell's wand went flying backwards and skidded across the ground halting under the mirror. Quirrell then removed a small knife from within his robes. Harry caught its jagged blade glint in the little light left in the chamber. He sliced immediately at Harry's hand, making Harry drop his wand. A deep red blood poured from a deep wound on the back of Harry's hand.

Quirrell then wrapped his hand around Harry's neck. A needle sharp pain seared across Harry's scar, his head felt as though it was about to split in two. Then, with a yell, Quirrell let go of Harry and hunched in pain looking at his hand which was blistering before his eyes. The pain lessened from Harry's scar and he could now see Quirrell's burnt raw hand. Harry looked at own hands in awe. Was it his skin doing this?

A sudden panicked shout rent the air. “KILL HIM.” Quirrell lunged at him again but Harry rolled out of the way. He pulled himself onto his feet and lunged at Quirrell who was still holding his knife with his uninjured hand. Harry's hands touched Quirrell's face first and his screams echoed around the chamber. Harry's head seemed to burst open from the excruciating pain in his scar.

He had screwed his eyes up against the pain but opened them when he heard the screams cease. Harry felt extremely weak and fell back against a pillar for support. He thought he saw a faint black mist over where Quirrell's burnt body lay lifeless. Then it disappeared and Harry was left alone and shaking. For a few moments everything seemed to be surreal as if everything in front of him was a dream or a memory. Then he staggered towards Quirrell's body and fell to his knees beside it.

It was then that Harry felt the deep penetrating pain in the side of his chest. He knew it had been there before, he just hadn't felt it. He looked down slowly at Quirrell's empty hands and then saw the handle of the short knife protruding from the side of his own chest. Holding his breath Harry slowly removed the knife from his own chest and let it drop to the floor with an ominous clatter that rang through the room. Blood began to pour from the wound, sinking into his school jumper. Harry pressed a hand over the opening trying to end the flow of blood.

Suddenly Harry heard hurried footsteps coming from down the passageway. He turned to see Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape at the entrance to the chamber. In the blink of an eye, Dumbledore was bent down in front of Harry, trying to catch his eye or some sign that he was going to be alright. Harry seemed to be drifting into another world, his eyes looking at Quirrell's body instead of Dumbledore.

Slowly Harry reached inside his pocket with his shaking hand and carefully removed the Philosophers Stone. He held it up in front of him, in the middle of himself and Dumbledore. It seemed to glow for a moment as if it was the centre of the small chamber. Dumbledore noticed again the drifting look that was in Harry's eyes as he stared at the blood red stone. Harry then moved his gaze from the stone to look directly into Dumbledore's worried blue eyes. A seemingly endless pause was ended when Harry whispered “I'm sorry.”

Dumbledore caught Harry's body as he fell forward, unconscious. The Stone left Harry's lifeless hand and rolled slightly before being picked up by Professor Snape who immediately wrapped a small black cloak around it and handed it to Professor McGonagall who looked utterly stricken.

Professor Dumbledore turned Harry over and hastily examined him, taking in his stab wound and also how limp Harry's body seemed. “We must get him to the Hospital Wing immediately,” he ordered. As Dumbledore attempted to lift Harry, Snape made his way forward and lifted his motionless body with little effort. Dumbledore nodded and they started back towards the dark stone passageway.

End Chapter

Thanks for reading. Please review, tell me what you think.

I was thinking of Harry training with muggle objects in the next fic. Like weapons. What do you think?

Anyway thanks again

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Twenty- Five

Ron and Hermione remained in the troll's chamber while Professor Dumbledore led Professors McGonagall and Snape down through the dark doorway into the gloomy passageway. Ron nearly collapsed from shock when he spotted Snape coming through the door from the destruction of the chessboard. Dumbledore ordered them to stay in the room while they went to retrieve Harry. That had been about five minutes ago and now Hermione was growing almost hysterical with anxiety.

She was wringing her hands and biting her nails while pacing fretfully, utterly unaware of the throbbing in her head. Ron had tried to calm her but to no avail. After a tense silence they heard the agitated sound of footsteps. Hermione stopped and stood still looking at the entrance to the passageway her eyes full of worry.

Ron, who had been sitting on the dusty cold floor with his legs crossed, jumped up immediately. Snape stepped out first carrying Harry's lifeless body, Dumbledore followed with his arm around McGonagall's shoulder, comforting her.

Hermione gasped, her worst fears seemingly coming true, and ran to Professor Snape. “Is he…d…dead?” she asked shakily. “No but we must get him to the Hospital Wing soon if he is to live,' replied Snape in a voice quite unlike his own. It wasn't snappish or sarcastic as it usually was, if anything it was concerned. Just then Harry gave a slight groan and Snape continued through the underground maze. All the protections had been dismantled so as to make their exit quicker. Professor McGonagall approached Hermione and then gave her a slight hug which would have startled Hermione if she wasn't so concerned about Harry. Silently the solemn company followed Snape.

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Darkness surrounded him. All sense of direction left him and he wondered blindly through the black night for some evidence or chance of life. He heard no sound, not a whisper. Panic seemed to be enclosing him and he knew he had to escape or he would be lost forever. His pace quickened but he couldn't hear the noise of his footfalls or the rapid beating of his heart. Fear stabbed at him as he wondered whether it was already over. And then through the black vault he spotted a pale gray coming slowly towards him. It seemed to be a billowing mist and it soon engulfed him until at last, after many hours, he awoke.

Harry soon realized he was actually in a dark room but after a few seconds he could make out the arched and decorated roof. His head was throbbing and he felt extremely drowsy. He guessed rightly that he was currently in the confines of the Hospital Wing. There were no lights lit or any other sign of life in the ward from what he could see through his blurred vision, somebody had removed his glasses.

He soon recognized how dry and tight his throat felt. Moving his head slightly he saw a water jug on a white bedside cabinet. He lifted his arm and cautiously reached across. The delicate water jug was heavy though and obviously didn't want to be picked up. His limp hand dropped the jug and a smash was heard throughout the room. Water sprayed onto the side of his bed and seeped across the floor.

The noise of a door being unlocked and swift footsteps could be heard and Harry noticed a shadow of a woman at the end of the bed. Madam Pomfrey took in the remains of the water jug and then Harry's position; he was leaning over the side of the bed, his hand lying on the empty cabinet. Her stern face relaxed as she moved him back into the middle of the bed and then with a wave of her wand cleaned up the water. Harry was exhausted; he could barely move and didn't object as Madam Pomfrey started examining him. She checked his pulse explaining to him that it had been quite low earlier. She then checked the bandage that was wrapped around his chest. It was only then that Harry even noticed the slight pain in his side. He suddenly remembered everything of what had occurred two nights ago. The pain in his side had significantly lessened than when he was first wounded.

There was a dried blood stain on the cotton bandage and Harry wondered when it had stopped bleeding. Madam Pomfrey was now positioning his pillows and heaving him into a sitting position. `Professor Dumbledore wished to speak to you as soon as you awoke,” she said disapprovingly. “Even if it is midnight.” She poured Harry a glass of clear water and he slowly lifted it to his lips. It seemed to refresh him slightly as he felt the dryness of his throat recede and feel unblocked. “Thank you,' he croaked weakly.

Madam Pomfrey smiled sympathetically, fixing the surgically white sheets of his bed. “It's alright dear. It is my profession after all,' she chuckled. She then left the Hospital Wing which was now dimly lit by floating candles which she had lit on her way in.

Harry eased back into his soft pillows attempting to alleviate the pain dancing within his head. He could just make out the pale white stars sparkling through the black canvas of space. His mind kept drifting to Voldemort and Quirrell. Surely Quirrell was dead. But how? Harry had killed him by touching him with own bare skin. Harry hadn't come across anything that mentioned that sort of magic if that is what it was. He was trying to piece together his thoughts when he heard the creak of the double doors at the end of the Wing opening. He heard the sound of footsteps and the tall shadow of Dumbledore was cast across the end of his bed.

“Well Harry. From what I've heard from Ms. Granger, you have been quite busy this year,” the Headmaster said, smiling benignly. “Is she okay?” said Harry, suddenly anxious. “Ms. Granger is quite fine. She has completely recovered from her knock on the head. Though, she is very concerned about you.”

Harry grinned sheepishly. “I never meant to cause harm. And I didn't want to know all about your internal affairs. It's just some of them had consequences that would affect us all. Especially the one concerning the Philosopher's Stone. Did you know about Voldemort's interest in it?”

“Yes indeed. I suspected that bringing the Philosopher's Stone to light once again might bring the remaining life of Voldemort back in search of his full life. If you could name such an existence a life,” said Dumbledore thoughtfully, handing Harry his wire rimmed glasses from the side of his cabinet.

“If you deduced that it was Voldemort then why did you leave the castle? Surely you could have seen through his act,” asked Harry confused. Dumbledore seemed to stop for a few minutes, deep in thought. Harry wondered whether he was contemplating continuing talking. Then he spoke, somewhat hesitantly.

“You're quite right, Harry. The summons from the Ministry was indeed a distraction. Did I suspect an attempt while I was away? Of course,” he said simply.

Harry's mind seemed to have jumped out the window. Then he spoke, astonishment in his voice. “You knew….but….did you want me to face him?” Harry asked amazed at the sudden thought. A heavy silence fell on the room. Dumbledore was staring at the end of Harry's bed. Harry tried to put the puzzle together himself. “There's more to this than anyone could probably guess.”

Dumbledore raised his eyes and looked at Harry with sorrowful eyes. The twinkle that often occupied his gaze had left. “There is a connection between yourself and Lord Voldemort. One which I cannot tell you fully about for there is much I do not know. You will encounter him again in the future, I am sure of it. You are a powerful wizard already Harry. I trusted you could face Voldemort. I think I felt deep down that you had to. But I think I wished it to be under different circumstances.”

Even though Harry had suspected something like this, it didn't make him feel any less safe. Maybe it was the fact that he was lying uselessly in a hospital bed but all of a sudden he felt quite vulnerable. For a long time neither said anything. Wisps of cloud had started to veil the stars, the grounds darkened and everything seemed still. Then at last Harry asked something that had been playing on his mind. “Voldemort spoke of the night my parents died. He said my mother needn't have died. That she could have lived had she not been protecting me. He was there for me and she died because of me!” Harry said loudly, as if hoping that the idea was impossible. He seemed to be stating it, wishing somebody would counter him by telling him that it was ridiculous. He was now sitting up, his head buried in his hands, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side and the pain in his head telling him to lie back down.

“Your mother did not die because of you. She died protecting her son, as any mother would have done,” said Dumbledore flatly as if settling the matter. “Voldemort underestimates the power of love. And it was for that reason that you survived two nights ago. The love which she possessed for you gave you a protection against Voldemort, hence the reason why Professor Quirrell couldn't bear to touch you.”

“But why? Why did he come after me?” Harry asked.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. “I am afraid I have told you enough for now concerning Lord Voldemort.”

“NO,” said Harry shaking his head and smiling disbelievingly. “You haven't told me enough. Not nearly enough. There is a reason why he came after me. A reason why my parents were murdered and I want to know it.” He knew he might be pushing it but he wouldn't be able to go through another day without knowing the truth. Dumbledore seemed to be taken aback. Harry thought he looked older through the darkness.

And then he told Harry everything about the prophecy that was made concerning him and Voldemort. Harry noticed that he left out some of the names of people that were involved. He merely said that a prophecy was told of someone who could stand against Lord Voldemort and that somehow Voldemort discovered its existence. Acting on the information he had, Voldemort hunted down Harry but he hadn't heard the full details of the prophecy, which therefore was his downfall or temporary downfall.

Harry lay back down into the imprint his body had created against the pillows. Dumbledore stood silently at the end of the bed, his head hung in defeat. “I never meant to tell you while you were so young. Then again, you have shown me more maturity than I have seen from grown men,” he said quietly looking up.

Harry felt slightly ashamed from his outburst earlier but he was still content that he now knew the truth. “You did the right thing. Telling me I mean. Thank you.”

Dumbledore made his way to the head of the bed and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. “I wanted to keep all this hardship from you. To protect you against this destiny that was given to you before you were even born. Your parents would have been extremely proud of you in the way you stood up to Voldemort's face of evil. I want you to know that even though this burden was assigned to you, you will not stand alone. I will aid you any way possible. As for Voldemort, we know not when he will truly return. He has been gravely set back by your determination to keep the Stone safe.”

Harry's thoughts returned to the Philosopher's Stone. “What happened to it?”

Dumbledore perched himself on the edge of Harry's bed. “The Stone will now be destroyed. Nicholas, who, I will assume you already know about, has agreed that it is too dangerous to exist, principally in the wrong hands.”

“How much time will he have after the Stone is destroyed?” Harry posed. “Enough time to set his affairs in order. He is probably growing terse with life. Over six hundred years of living must be quite exhausting. I have often found such things as immortality unnatural,” Dumbledore explained.

Harry mind seemed to be split in two. He was thinking of what Dumbledore had just said while also thinking of the prophecy. He didn't know how to feel. At once he was terrified of what his future held but also he found himself slowly accepting it. If Voldemort did indeed return, would Harry have not killed him anyway? He had murdered his parents and stripped him of any chance of a normal life. It would always be this way. And Harry was not about to turn away from the path that had been set before him.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. A sudden wave of tiredness that he had been holding back seemed to have overtaken him. But he still had more questions. “Did you suspect Quirrell?”

Dumbledore who had been staring deeply into Harry's water jug, lifted his eyes to see Harry with his own eyes shut, seemingly asleep. “Not until the last days. His behavior became quite suspicious; I seem to remember him missing two of his classes. Professor Snape was the one who first approached me about him. He actually told me he had been watching him for some amount of time and had threatened him to stop or he would take action.”

“He saved my life. Professor Snape. Yet Quirrell said that he hated me because of my father. He told me they hated each other while at school,' said Harry bewildered. “They did indeed. But then your father did something that Professor Snape could never forgive, something which he has lived under for many years. He saved his life,” said Dumbledore, seemingly bemused.

Harry opened his eyes slowly. “So he felt compelled to save mine.”

“Indeed. I think Professor Snape feels that the debt is repaid. He can return to hating your father's memory in peace.” Harry chuckled lightly at Dumbledore's choice of words. His eyes had closed again unwittingly. He now seemed to be drifting between the worlds of consciousness and sleep. “How did I get the Stone?” he asked groggily. “Well that was one of my more brilliant strokes. You see, only one who wishes to find the Stone and use if for good, is capable of getting it. Quirrell, who wanted to get it for his own greed and ambition, would never have been able to attain the Stone.”

“That is quite inspiring,” said Harry light-heartedly. Dumbledore noticed how drowsy his voice had become. After a few minutes of silence, Dumbledore heard the slow breathing of Harry, signaling that he had fallen asleep. Dumbledore reached forward and removed Harry's glasses carefully, placing them on the bedside cabinet. He then rested a hand on Harry's head for a moment and whispered “Goodnight Harry,” then left leaving the Hospital Wing in darkness.

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When Harry awoke much later he found dust swirling in the shafts of bright sunlight that streamed through the windows of the Hospital Wing. His headache had diminished slightly and as he put his glasses on he realised he could move much easier. He then plopped back down onto his pillow. Everything that had happened in the past week was flashing through his mind, snippets and pieces coming together to reveal the truth. His thoughts came to land on what he had discovered last night. He couldn't change his fate nor could he ignore it. But then again, given the choice he would still stick with it. As Dumbledore said, the task was appointed to him and him alone. When Voldemort moved out into the open again, the wizarding world would probably rise against him, but in the end it would be Harry who would have to end it.

He tried not to think of the possibility of death for himself. Voldemort was extremely powerful and when he returned it would only be a matter of time before he resumed his terror. He would have to train and prepare until that time when he met Voldemort again. That would be the first thing he would ask Dumbledore.

Suddenly the double doors at the end of the gleaming hallway opened and Harry saw Hermione running towards him. He smiled at the look of worry on her face. When she neared the bed she grabbed his hand and squeezed it then flung herself at him in a bear hug. “I was so worried,' she sobbed.

Harry, who felt completely winded and was desperately trying to ignore the pain in his side, wrapped his arms around her, in an attempt to comfort her. She was now crying openly into his shoulder. He rubbed her back softly whispering “Shhh…hey, I'm alright. It's okay.” She pulled away from his shoulder and Harry looked into her tear-streaked face and knew that for now he couldn't tell her what he had discovered about himself, not yet anyway. Hermione grinned slightly and let out a nervous laugh “You're soaking now…I'm sorry,' she said, indicating his shoulder.

He shifted slightly giving her room to sit at the side of his bed. They talked for many hours about what had happened when they had jumped through the trapdoor. Harry told her everything that had happened when he had faced Quirrell. Hermione gasped hearing what Quirrell had done to Harry and also when he told her about the Philosophers Stone dropping into his pocket. Hermione then proceeded to tell Harry everything that had happened when he left her and Ron in the troll's chamber. They talked well until afternoon and the light from the sun had darkened slightly into an orange tinge that spread across the room. They found themselves in a long deep silence, one which neither of them found that they wanted to break.

Then the double doors were thrown open again and Madam Pomfrey strode towards Harry's bed. `Ms. Granger, I'm afraid you must leave. Mr. Potter needs to take some potions and then he needs some rest,” she said hurriedly. Hermione jumped off the bed, gave Harry's hand one more squeeze, and then left the Hospital Wing, looking a lot more happier than she had when she entered.

Madam Pomfrey caught Harry gazing disappointedly at the door. “Don't worry. You should get out of here before Monday. That's two day away,” she explained. Harry nodded and then took the potions which she handed him, wondering whether he would ever feel the same when he left the confines of the Hospital Wing.

End Chapter

Only one more chapter to go. Hope you liked this one. Please tell me if you did or didn't.

Sorry about delay, I couldn't make my mind up to tell Harry about the prophecy or not. I know I didn't go through the whole prophecy in this chapter, but I think we all ready know about it and it would have just been stating the obvious.

I was thinking of calling the next one Harry Potter and the Riddle Chamber.

Thanks for reading.

Take care,

Radagast

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Chapter Twenty Six

The next morning Harry awoke to smell the sweet unmistakable scent of flowers. Even though his vision was blurred because he wasn't wearing his glasses, he could make out the different colours on the bedside cabinet. They came into focus as he placed the wire-rimmed spectacles on the bridge of his nose. The flowers had deep golden petals with a rich green stem. Flecks of silver graced the petals elegantly, making the flowers look as if they had been stylishly spray-painted.

As Harry took in their steely scent he heard a dry sob coming from the other side of his hospital bed. Turning he found Hagrid's shaggy black hair, his head bent low towards the marble floor. He looked up and when he saw Harry was awake his face broke into a smile, his eyes lighting up slightly. “'Ello Harry,” he said through fresh tears. Harry frowned. “What's wrong?”

“Is my fault! Didn' listen to ye's. You an' Hermione kept goin' on about the Stone and I just ignored ye's. What use am I, eh?” he said roughly hitting his huge fist off his own thigh as if he was trying to cause harm to himself. “It is not your fault,” said Harry firmly. “Hagrid…this is all Voldemort's fault,” Hagrid winced at the name. “Hagrid…if he does come back, you can't fear his name. It won't do any good. It's not shameful to be afraid of him, almost everybody is. But you can't fear his name.”

Hagrid sniffed. “Suppose yer right. But it's hard. Tryin to forget.” He stared at the white sheet, as if looking into some distant memory. Then he shook it off. “It sure is nice seein' you awake. Everybody was all shook up when they saw you at firs'. You were as pale as that sheet,” he said indicating the white sheet with his head. He then let out a throaty chuckle. “Hermione was near uncontrollable. Frantic, ye might say. Well I told ye to go out and find a good friend and ye sure found a righ' good one there.”

Harry looked up slightly, a slight frown on his face. “Is there anything the matter, Harry?” Hagrid said, causing Harry to look away again. Harry seemed to be drifting into some secluded area of his memory, one which he could still see clearly but he had desperately tried to lock away. “Harry?” Hagrid prompted again.

There was a long hesitant silence until Harry started to speak.

“I thought she was dead, Hagrid,” he whispered. “Hermione?” asked Hagrid. Harry nodded his head. “I couldn't see her. Or hear her. She was gone. And then there was this moment, this horrible moment where I didn't think I would ever hear her voice again. And I felt like I was lost. Everything that I had gained in the last year…was just stripped from me, like it never existed in the first place.” Harry closed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy hair.

Hagrid just looked at him with a sympathetic smile. “She's alright, Harry. Fact, since she's bin here t'visit ye, she's bin looking better than she has in a while.” Harry opened his eyes and leaned back into his pillows. “Well, I best be goin. See ya at the feast, maybe.” He strode to the end of the ward and then with a wave of his hand walked through the double doors, leaving them to swing on their hinges.

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Harry was released from the Hospital Wing on the day of the feast. The pain in his body was nearly gone, but he felt still weak and had a slightly unbalanced walk. The feast was due to begin at one o'clock and at twelve Hermione, who noticed Harry wasn't in the Gryffindor common room, went in search of him. Most of the students were in their common rooms, spending the remaining day they had left, with their closest friends in Hogwarts. This meant that the corridors were empty; a soft summer silence had descended on the castle.

She found him leaning against an empty window sill staring out at the sunlit grounds. The forest trees seemed to be a brighter green and lay motionless under the clear dazzling blue sky. His usually bright green eyes seemed darker and she somehow knew that there was something troubling him. She approached him noiselessly and placed a hand on his shoulder, starting him. His face broke into a smile, one which seemed slightly rigid and confirmed his uneasiness over something. She knew he had been through a lot in the last few days but she still wished that he hadn't had to take on any tasks because she was terrified that it would change him, just when he had started to live.

“I wondered where you were. I didn't see you in the common room,” she said, trying to vanquish the awkward silence. He looked in the direction in which she had come, as if thinking. Then he turned back to her, no longer pretending to smile. “Too many people,” he said quickly, his eyes returning to the outside world. “I'm sorry for dragging you into this. For putting your life in danger. It was careless of me and I shouldn't have...” he was cut off by Hermione giving him a hard smack on the shoulder. “Don't you dare say that. I volunteered to help with the Stone. We both did. So whatever happened to me or whatever might have happened to me was not your fault,” she shouted, tears now forming pools in her eyes. Harry seemed slightly taken aback. Hermione was desperately trying to wipe away her falling tears with the end of her sleeve.

Harry stepped forward cautiously and wiped away a lonely tear that was clinging to her cheek. “I'm sorry…I just,” Harry started. She immediately broke in “Harry I know that you've gone through a lot but you can't blame yourself on everything that happens. You can't take responsibility for the whole world. And wherever you go, I'll go…willingly.”

He smiled at her, a deep sadness in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. He slowly moved into her hug and they remained in that position for quite a while.

“We better get going or we'll be late for the feast,” Harry whispered. “Yeah,” said Hermione pulling out of the embrace. Harry straightened his long black robes and together they made their way down to the Great Hall. In honour of Slytherin winning the House Cup, great banners decorated with silver and emerald green hung from the high ceiling. Most of the students were assembled in the hall. The students at the long Slytherin table were shouting congratulations at each other and roaring with innate happiness. The other students were just enjoying the company of their friends and relishing the plentiful feast, yet there were some throwing vicious looks at the cheering Slytherins, often with a dark mutter to their companions.

Harry and Hermione took their seats opposite each other at the end of the table. When Ron entered the hall he gave Harry a quick pat on the shoulder and gave Hermione a nod. It somehow felt different now after they had gone through something that involved death every step along the way. Ron took his seat in the middle of the table with Seamus, Dean and Neville. After a few minutes food appeared on the motionless golden plates and the clatter of cutlery sounded throughout the Hall. “So what are you doing for the holidays? You don't have to go back to the Dursleys, do you?” Hermione asked worriedly. Harry shrugged his shoulders, trying not to make himself worry. He hadn't really thought about it. But now he knew that there was a reason he was put with the Dursley's would he have to return to Privet Drive. He swallowed the meat he had been chewing on. “I don't know. Dumbledore said something about going back to Little Whinging but not to the Dursley's.” Hermione frowned, “Maybe there are other wizards living there. Someone Dumbledore trusts,” she suggested.

“No, I doubt it. I've never really felt magic in the area. Like here, I know that there is magic. I can feel it, breathe it. It's like… if a muggle could feel oxygen,” Harry explained. Hermione smiled sweetly at him. “Are you always this philosophical?” she asked playfully. Harry laughed. “Only on special occasions.”

After they had finished dessert, Dumbledore stood to his feet. Silence descended on the Hall as it always did when Dumbledore spoke.

“Another year gone! 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. As the House Cup points stand, Slytherin House are the winners of this year's celebrated tradition with four-hundred points. Ravenclaw come in a close second with three hundred and eighty points. Gryffindor fit in third with three hundred and twenty points and Hufflepuff place in fourth with three hundred points.”

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry spotted Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table and stomping his feet. Harry had to admit that it irked his slightly but he had come to realise that the House Cup wasn't all that mattered. He was safe and so were his friends. The cheering subsided and Dumbledore continued. “However there a few changes that need to be made. For instance, recent events need to be taken into consideration. A few days ago, many lives were threatened and this school was put in grave danger. Three students faced that danger and opposed it for the benefit of good and I believe that that needs to be recognised. Many of you know some form of the story, and know who I am speaking of.”

Many of students turned their heads towards Harry and Hermione. Then moved on to look at Ron. Hermione just returned their looks with a nervous smile and Ron nodded his head as if he was enjoying it. Harry's face remained impassive. “For that courage shown and the bravery revealed I award Gryffindor House one hundred points.” The whole of Gryffindor House jumped to their feet, yelling themselves hoarse. A huge amount of energy seemed to have been released across the Great Hall as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined in with the cheering. Ron was hugging his brothers and bouncing up and down along with Seamus, Dean and Neville. Girls were screaming and running up and down the aisles between the tables, grabbing their friends and screaming delightedly. A fifth year grabbed Hermione, squeezed her and then ran off hysterically leaving Hermione looking shocked.

Harry was the only one that had remained seated. He looked instinctively up at the staff table at Snape, who had a sour look on his face and forced a smile as he shook hands with Professor McGonagall. Snape moved his head and Harry locked eyes with him. Then Snape turned back to his glass which held a blood red wine and took a long mouthful of it, as if it was a pain reliever.

The Slytherin table all looked shocked and sullen. Their anger was shown on their faces, yet some of them clapped, but only a handful. They stopped as they received glares from other students.

Looking up Harry noticed that the great banners and hangings that were once green with silver serpent turned to a great roaring lion surrounded by scarlet. It was a Gryffindor affair now and they were certainly celebrating it. “Are you alright?” screamed Hermione over the cheering. Harry smiled at her and jumped over the wooden table. Pulling her close to him he whispered into her ear. “I'm fine. Thank you, for everything. You have changed my life.” Hermione smiled, a redness appeared on her cheeks and tears sprung to her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “No. Thank you,” she said through tears.

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The next morning Harry awoke early and lay in bed for a few minutes. The sun was already bright outside and Harry could hear the singing of birds from the forest. Thinking of all that had happened since his birthday Harry thought how lucky he was to be alive. And now he had something lurking in his future that could easily destroy it. Climbing out of bed, he quickly dressed and descended the winding staircase into the common room. He made his way out of the portrait hole and headed towards Professor Dumbledore's office. After a minute he realised he had no idea where that was. Then he met Snape.

As his long black cloak appeared around the corner, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Snape also halted. His eyes boring into Harry's. Harry felt a slight apprehension to continue, not knowing how Snape would react. After a few moments of silence passed Snape placed his hands behind his back and strode forward. “What are you doing walking around the castle at this time of morning, Potter?” he said in a bored idle voice.

“I need to see Professor Dumbledore…Sir,” Harry replied with mock politeness. Snape's black brow furrowed. “Why?” he asked lazily. Harry wondered how to react. He didn't want to find trouble, he wanted to find Dumbledore. “It's private. Between the Headmaster and myself,” he said resolutely.

“And do you know where the Headmaster's office is, Potter?” Snape enquired his lip curling into an evil sneer. Harry face remained unreadable and he turned away from Snape, heading back towards Gryffindor Tower. “Three floors down, fourth left off the main corridor,” came Snape voice from behind him. Harry spun around to see Snape's long cloak whip around the corner.

Once again Harry was left mystified about Snape. Following his instructions Harry ended up standing in a long corridor leading to an enormous stone gargoyle. Even though the gargoyle didn't move when he faced it, Harry knew that this was definitely the entrance to where Dumbledore lived. Then Harry heard a deep scraping noise and the gargoyle sprung to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. A spiral staircase was positioned behind the hidden opening and there, standing tall at the last stone step was Professor Dumbledore in long deep purple robes, speckled with stars that glittered in the morning light.

“Ah Harry,” he said kindly. “Back up we go.” Harry stepped onto the stair and the staircase immediately started grinding upwards. “Sorry Professor. I know it's early and I didn't mean to disturb. I just needed to speak to you,” Harry apologized.

“There is no need to feel sorry, for it has not even reached seven o'clock,” Dumbledore explained. “So I don't believe you are disturbing me. Actually…” he said walking now towards a great oak door and opening it into a large circular room. “…I like being disturbed at this hour of the morning as I have absolutely nothing else to do. What did you wish to speak about?” he finished, taking a seat behind a deep oak desk and motioning for Harry also to take a seat. “Er…I was wondering where I would be going during the summer, Professor. Its just I know I'm supposed to be going back to Privet Drive because of the protection it offers me, but…I…”Dumbledore looked at him intently over his gold spectacles.

“There is no need to worry Harry. You are right; the protections placed there are of the utmost importance. But for now, as Voldemort had not yet arisen, it is safer than it would be. Therefore I am placing you under the care of someone else that lives in Little Whinging.”

“What! But no one else there is a wizard or a witch. No one knows what I am!” Harry said astounded.

Dumbledore chuckled. “There is one person in Little Whinging that knows you are a wizard. Are you aware of an Arabella Figg?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“Mrs Figg!” Harry whispered to himself. “But…she can't be a witch,” he said disbelievingly.

“Quite right, Harry. She is a Squib. She has no real magical power yet she was born into a wizarding family.” He paused for a few moments letting Harry comprehend it all before continuing. “I know you have seen Arabella's more stern side through the years. But I assure you she is a very kind woman and she has a spare room in which she will accommodate you. She also knew your parents.”

Harry looked up at this. It struck him how he still didn't know that much about his parents. “So…I'm living with Mrs Figg from now on,” he said, still in a tone of disbelief.

“Indeed,” replied Dumbledore simply. Harry was sitting on the edge of his seat by this point in the conversation. He kept staring at the floor in deep thought. “What about the Dursley's? Do they know where I have been? I mean, it's inevitable that I'll see them,” Harry pondered.

“They are aware that you have been studying magic and also that you will be staying with Mrs Figg,” explained Dumbledore. “Is there anything else you wished to speak about, Harry?”

“You offered to help me in anyway you could against Lord Voldemort. I wondered whether you would agree to train me in more attacking and defensive magic, next year. In private, of course,” Harry said nervously. Everything about the future and his destiny seemed to become more real in that minute. Dumbledore removed his spectacles from his bright blue eyes and wiped them. He sighed.

“I will of course agree to teach you, Harry. Even though I wish not to.” Harry knew that Dumbledore didn't want to be teaching him while so young how to become a dueller or to fight in anyway. And he was deeply grateful for his agreeing to do so. “I am deeply obliged. Thank you, Sir.”

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile before replacing his spectacles on his face. “Well, you best be getting ready. I am sure there are some things you wish to pack at the last minute.”

Harry thanked him again and then left the beautiful office. There were a few shouts of goodbye from the hanging portraits that surrounded the office walls.

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By twelve o'clock, Harry was packed and ready at the train station with the other students. Hedwig was perched in her cage with a gloomy look on her face. Hermione, Harry noted, also looked miserable. When the scarlet train pulled into the station, brakes screeching, and blowing steam over the passengers, they boarded quietly, finding an empty compartment near the back of the train. Both Harry and Hermione laid out on the seats in silence, just enjoying each others company. They didn't really need words anymore. She had been delighted when he told her about his arrangements for the summer. She had also said that she would hopefully see him during their break.

After an hour Ron entered their compartment. They talked for awhile about everything that had happened in the past year and Ron told them of his plan for the summer. He was supposed to be going to Ireland with his family.

When they reached the station, a deep sadness hit Harry. One he had been dreading since boarding the train. He said goodbye to all the Weasleys and then walked out with Hermione to the main entrance. Her parents were there waiting, both looking positively gleeful at the thought of their daughter returning home. Also there was Mrs Figg looking also delighted at seeing Harry. To Harry she looked completely different, even though she wore the same clothes and was still wearing her pink slippers.

She walked forward to greet him. “I am sorry I never told you. I was forbidden to,” was the first words that came out of her mouth. She did look slightly guilty and remorseful. Harry gave her a lopsided smile. “It's alright Mrs Figg. And thank you for taking me in. This is Hermione, by the way,” he said when he noticed Mrs Figg smile at her. “Oh hello dear,” she said shaking Hermione's hand. “Maybe you could come and stay during the summer.”

Hermione's eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Hermione parents strode forward and enveloped Hermione in a hug. “Hello Mr. Granger,” Harry said shaking his hand. They stood there for a few minutes talking and then the Grangers went to get the car leaving Hermione with Mrs Figg and Harry.

“How are we getting back?” asked Harry. “We'll drive. Actually I best get the car now too,” Mrs Figg said.

“I didn't know that you drove a car,' said Harry surprised.

“Well I can drive and I borrowed the car from my brother, who broke his hip and is unable to drive,” she explained leaving in search of the car.

There was the beep of a car horn and they turned to see the Grangers sitting in blue Renault Laguna. “Well I guess this is it,” said Hermione tearfully. Harry turned to look at her and felt a tug at his heart. She enveloped him in a tight hug and after a few seconds he heard her sob slightly. “Hey, it's alright,” he said consolingly rubbing her back, “this isn't the end. If anything it's the beginning,” he whispered.

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The End

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Sorry this took so long. I had this course where I learned to make a website, if you want to check it out then it's at http://www.computing.dcu.ie/~user15-cty/

Anyhow, this is the end. I don't know how long you'll have to wait before the next fic will be up.

Once again I would love to thank you all for reading and posting reviews which have been a great asset.

Take Care

Radagast

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