Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related terms and characters are the property of JK Rowling. The use of copyrighted material is for non-profit entertainment purposes only, and in no way constitutes a challenge to the existing copyright.
A/N: This chapter finally finishes off the first year. In my trend of increasing chapter length, it sits at roughly 11,800 words. Don't expect them all to be this length, folks. I hope you all enjoy my take on Voldemort, as I strive to not pull my punches against the first-years.
YEAR 1: A League of their Own
========================
Hermione greeted me with a crushing hug when I met her at the train station. She was very excited to be back to school, and nearly ran to the castle. Draco and Pansy gave me heartfelt greetings, and Ron was only uncomfortable for a couple of seconds until I slapped him on the back and got him moving. A round of hot chocolate in the Great Hall banished the cold, and I told the tale of my Christmas holidays.
Everyone was very impressed at the difference in my wand work, and I promised to show them how to practice the way Dumbledore taught me. Hermione was intensely jealous of the time I'd been able to spend with Professor Dumbledore. She had devoured the Occlumency book and had attempted several of the meditation techniques that the book suggested to get started.
To provide a little background on Occlumency, what you're trying to build is not some kind of shield. It's much better to think of your mind as a muscle; when you think, remember things, or use your logic center, you are flexing that muscle. The more you use it, the better it gets; if it remains unused, it deteriorates. It's a close enough model of the mind for our purposes, anyways.
Legilimency is the art of reaching out and flexing someone's mind muscle for them, kind of like placing a joint-lock on someone's arm at the elbow and wrist and bending it in the direction you want. Occlumency is the art of teaching your mind to resist the movements caused by outside sources, just like you can make your arm resist. How well you resist depends on how strong you are (power) and how good you are at avoiding and escaping joint-locks (skill).
Unlike Judo and Aikido, however, there isn't a real joint-lock involved, so direct resistance works just as well as evasion and avoidance. The difference is whether or not the Legilimens knows that they're being blocked. We didn't get a chance to progress in any meaningful way during our first year, though; Professor Dumbledore flat-out refused to test my Occlumency. "When you've both been at it for three or four years, we'll talk," he said. "This is not an overnight talent you're building."
Hermione was extremely diligent with the practice. She still did her homework on time, and maintained her top marks, but she wrote her essays using my self-correcting quill from Pansy, and she performed spells without the usual attention to detail. Nearly every waking moment of her time that wasn't focused on schoolwork was focused on Occlumency. Those extra few minutes of free time she spent listening to me recount some of my ad-hoc lessons with Dumbledore.
Draco and Ron were their usual selves once school got started. Both of them were amazed that I had tested out of so many classes, but neither was surprised. Ron avoided the issue by clapping me on the shoulder and saying "Always knew you were top; too bad you have to wait for OWLs. Fancy a game of chess?"
Draco's reaction was more in keeping with his outlook. "That's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "I don't suppose I could test out of a few classes. Father would try, but I'm not advanced like that. Still, you should push harder to get your OWLs early; there isn't a rule made that can't be bent."
When I told Pansy, she just held her hands out. At my questioning gaze, she said "Your Arithmancy and Runes books, of course! They'll help me out with my item enchanting, so hand them over!" She then stepped forward and hugged me briefly. "Congratulations," she said more seriously. "I hope you do well." Pansy initiates physical contact next to never, so that hug was one of the most unexpected things I'd ever gotten. I hugged her back and mumbled my thanks, and wondered between Hermione and Pansy what I did to deserve being hugged.
I spent some time working on Occlumency with Hermione, but I didn't deviate from my studies much. According to the book, my little memory trick was Occlumency in its most basic form; I could move my mind around to any memory, and that same trigger was how I would prevent a Legilimens from moving around. Instead of shifting memories, I'd reverse the feeling and lock my mind on a single memory, or even nothing at all. A related mental action was used to expel the Legilimens, ending the attack. I couldn't practice detecting an intrusion since Dumbledore was against it, but I had all the general Occlumency practice I needed as I mentally deconstructed the textbooks I was reading and pieced them together to create a working knowledge of the material. I have to tell you, that book had a few wonderful tips and hints that I was making constant use of.
Being willing to work everyday non-stop for ten hours or so was how I survived for four years as a child on my own money, so a few more months of it wasn't going to hurt me. January became February as I furiously devoured book after book at Hermione's direction. My focus was more on Arithmancy and Runes than the other three; both courses were hideously complex, and I ended up brewing a batch of headache potion in Madam Pomfrey's small workshop just so that I had a constant supply. Slowly, ever so slowly, I started to become proficient with the material.
Hermione was surprised at my progress as she watched me work on Arithmancy. "How did you learn the charts and procedures so quickly?" she asked. "Even if you memorize the material, it wouldn't help with the math."
I shut my book and took a few seconds to reorder my head before answering. "The thing with Occlumency is that I don't just have control over what I remember, but how well and in what order I remember it. I can take the textbooks and break them into pieces, putting a few sentences from one book together with a few sentences from another. You get where I'm going?" I waited for her to nod, and then continued.
"Now, the trick that I had to learn in order to get algebra and Calculus down for Astronomy was how to mesh those memories into my working knowledge. What I do is take the memory of the math procedures, as complete as I can make them from multiple books, and I push it way back so that it's as if I did it four years ago, so the active memory is kind of fuzzy. Still with me?" This time the nod was more hesitant, and her eyes were a bit wider.
"Once the memory is back there, I slowly pull it forwards again, going through all my memories in-between when I do it. If you read between the lines of that book, what that does is link the new memory to four years' worth of old memories, so it's as if I've been using the process that entire time, making it familiar."
"Oh my God!" Hermione exclaimed, forgetting to censor herself in her shock. "You can fake experience! You can use the past years of your life to study!"
"Yeah, that's basically it. It's painful and takes hours of my time, and it's why I get those massive headaches. I'm not sure if I'd recommend doing it, but it's worked for me so far. The only downside is that I have to re-live those four years of my life over and over and over every time I want to add something."
"I've got it!" she shouted, scaring the entire common room. "I know what to do now!" With that, Hermione bolted up to her room, leaving me trying to puzzle out what exactly she 'got' from my explanation. I eventually decided that whatever it was would likely be a good thing, and went back to my work. Hermione was a smart girl; I was sure she wouldn't hurt herself... much.
Valentine's Day was the one time I forced Hermione to take a break. The entire school assumed that I took Hermione on some sort of romantic date; the truth is I shut her books forcefully, grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her out to Hagrid's hut for tea. I might not have been able to distract Hermione from her work on my own, but Hagrid is irresistible. We spent nearly the entire day there as Hagrid recounted stories of his time at Hogwarts, and some interesting stories about the professors. Halfway into the day we were joined by Professor Dumbledore, and the quality and quantity of the stories increased a hundredfold. Hermione had her chance to meet the Headmaster and ask a few questions from her endless list, and Dumbledore answered with his usual wit.
It was quite late when we got back to the tower, but Hermione stopped me at the entrance and hugged me. "Thank you for doing that," she said. "I had fun."
"No problem; Hagrid's always fun to hang out with, and we both needed the break." Now, if I could get Roger and Cho to kill the rumor mill, things would be perfect.
As if she read my mind, Hermione pulled back a bit and said "You know that the entire House thinks that you took me on a date. Are you alright with that?"
"Are you happy?"
"Absolutely," she said with a big smile on her face.
"Then we're good." I took her hand and walked her into the tower, and I remember thinking that having Hermione as my girlfriend wouldn't be such a bad thing, and that maybe I should just let the rumors go.
March went by and I was much closer to being able to pass Arithmancy and Runes. Madam Pomfrey was extremely worried about the amount of headache potion that I'd been taking, but there weren't any side effects to it, so she didn't stop me. Hermione had come in for a few doses too, which made me wonder if she had made progress with her Occlumency.
I started to read up on Herbology and Care. I'd leave Divination for last, as it was the one I could do the least with. I laughed with relief as I skimmed through the books; I had grossly overestimated these two courses. Herbology was straight-up textbook memorization, with maybe a few trips to Professor Sprout's greenhouses to give me the hands-on experience I'd need to pass the exams. Similarly, I was sure that Hagrid would be happy to show me the creatures that he kept around Hogwarts while I memorized the methods to deal with them.
Any evenings that weren't Quidditch practice I with my friends. Ever since Christmas, Draco had made friends with a couple of Slytherin bruisers, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. "They're muscle," he explained to me as he introduced them. "Father told me that having a couple of people that could deal with the cruder problems you come across in exchange for easy favors is a good thing."
"And you need `muscle' in Hogwarts?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Of course not," Draco scoffed. "But here's where I can pay back the favors. You can't imagine how poorly these two were doing in classes until I started to help them. Easy repayment, I think."
"Well, if it suits you," I said with a shrug. "Not my thing, though."
"That's because you're made of stone already!" Crabbe piped in, and we shared a laugh at the memory of Ron's broken hand.
Ron had become closer friends with Neville and Seamus Finnegan, another first-year Gryffindor. Neville was as shy as he was when I first met him at the beginning of the year, and Seamus was a walking temper tantrum. Ron was sort of in-between the two and they made an interesting group to watch. Ron would initiate a conversation and Seamus would find a reason to pick on Neville. Neville would whine to Ron who would then confront Seamus. Seamus would then be nice to Neville and take shots at Ron, who would defend by changing the topic and the whole process started over again.
"They're good mates," Ron said when I asked about them. "Neville's got decent marks, so I ask him for help when I need to. I'd come to you, but you're what, three years ahead of me now? May as well get to know someone that takes my classes with me, right?
"Seamus, he's fun. Always quick to joke around, and keeps the classes interesting."
May as well fish for information, I thought. "He seems to pick on Neville an awful lot. Are those two alright?"
"Yeah, Neville's so shy you almost can't help but pick at him. Neville gets really defensive, so it's fun to wind him up. Nothing too personal, it's all good. We figure that eventually Neville will grow some balls and start to talk back, and then he won't be so shy anymore."
Oh, shit. "Well, as long as Neville's okay with it," I said. I'm never letting you near Hermione again, I didn't say. Neville reminded me a lot of Hermione: Smart and soft-spoken. Hermione would take ribbing like that extremely personally, and bottle up any emotions or reactions until she was overwhelmed, like she did in October. I hoped that Neville wasn't the same, or Ron was doing some real damage.
Unlike the guys, Pansy didn't introduce me to her friends. I knew that she hung around the Slytherin girls and was becoming their unofficial ring leader, but she kept them well away from me. "They're the fan-girl type," she said when I asked her about it. "They'd bore you with girl-talk and asking for autographs. Have you decided to sign a few, then? Can I have one?" She batted her eyelashes at me, looking like the picture-perfect princess.
My answer was to snort indignantly. "When cows walk on the ceiling," I said.
I watched Pansy's eyes light up as I said that. "Is that a challenge?" she asked, moving closer. "I know just the place to do it, and the idiots to do it to." She stopped, and looked at me appraisingly. "This is worth more than some scrap of paper, isn't it?"
Trust Pansy to milk things for everything she can. "I'll make it worth your while," I said, laughing. Pansy just smiled and offered another one of those rare hugs before sauntering off to the Slytherin dungeons.
By April, I felt ready to sit Arithmancy and Runes, and was more than up to giving Care and Herbology a go. I certainly don't have anything exciting to report about sitting yet another 8 exams, and Dumbledore's letter explains it well enough.
-----
Dear Harry,
I have enclosed here the results of your second set of tests:
~Third Year
Ancient Runes E-
Arithmancy A
Care of Magical Creatures E+
Herbology E
~Fourth Year
Ancient Runes A
Arithmancy A
Care of Magical Creatures E
Herbology E
Your lack of familiarity with the material shows this time around, but you have passing grades in all the courses, and plenty of time to fill in the gaps before your OWL year. You have only Divination left, and I feel confident that we will test you for that in June. I cannot offer much advice on the subject myself, however, as I never bothered to take it, but I wish you the best of luck.
Your servant,
Albus Dumbledore
-----
It was in late May that Hermione raced down the tower stairs and threw herself at me screaming "I did it! I did it!" The force of her lunge knocked the chair I was sitting in right over, depositing us painfully on the floor as Tarot cards flew everywhere.
"Um, ow."
"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said, her voice muffled by my shoulder. She scrambled up and helped me right the chair, before resuming her excited bouncing. "I did it!" she repeated. "I can remember things!"
Well, she set herself up for this. "Gee, that's great news, Hermione. I was getting tired of introducing myself to you every day."
"You know what I mean, idiot!" she said, smacking my arm. "I can use your memory trick! I'm not very good at it yet, but I can do it now. I can't wait to get ahead!"
"I'm really surprised," I said truthfully. "I kind of figured that getting where I was would be more difficult. Dumbledore certainly thought so."
Hermione's mood instantly changed from ecstatic to looking like she was caught stealing. "Well, it normally is," she said hesitantly, "But the way you were learning Arithmancy gave me an idea. What if I did that with my Occlumency techniques? Of course, it was much harder to start, but I chose a spot in my memories a couple of years ago, and went through all my memories between then and now, and focused on what I knew about Occlumency. I did it over and over and after six or seven times I started to feel different, so I kept doing it, and I could start to remember things more clearly, well naturally I had to test it so I grabbed a book and just looked at a page then I shut the book and tried to remember, and I remembered the page! It was wonderful! So I grabbed the book again, and--"
"Hermione!" I shouted, covering her mouth with my hand. "You're rambling. I'm happy that you figured it out. I know all about how it works, and I know you'll be fine with it."
Hermione bounced at the shoulders and pouted into my hand at being cut off, but thankfully didn't continue when I let go. As I settled back into my chair, she sat in the chair beside mine. "I'll get started on my studies tonight. I'll try to test on as many courses as I can in June, if Professor Dumbledore allows me. How are your studies going?"
I shrugged and pointed at the mess of tarot cards. "It's Divination. Apparently this stuff works, but I hope to God that Trelawney grades on subject knowledge. I can tell you exactly what every card is supposed to mean, and my 'readings' sound good, but I'm hardly convinced that I'm reading the future." I started to clean up the cards and put them away; I'd had more than enough of them.
"You'll do fine, I'm sure." After a moment of silence, Hermione asked "What was it like doing your Arithmancy exams so quickly? It must have been terribly difficult, even with all the Occlumency tricks."
"Those tests gave me such a headache. I basically had to have the textbook open in my mind to access the charts, and refer back to the examples they gave to work out most of the processes. I'll say straight-up that I'm awful at Arithmancy. The only reason I passed those exams was because Professor Vector teaches close to the books. It'll probably take me until my OWL exam to really be comfortable with any of it."
Hermione nodded. "I figured that you'd have problems with that one, because memory doesn't have anything to do with mathematical process. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I'm surprised you passed at all. "
"You're surprised?" I laughed. "I'm surprised there wasn't a bright red 'T' on those papers! Still, it's one less headache for third and fourth year."
"Were the others any better?" I could almost hear Hermione's brain making notes on how to prepare for her studies.
"Well, Arithmancy and Astronomy were the killers --math, math, and more math. You're good at math, though, so you'll be better than me.
"Ancient Runes is the next big one, mostly because there's something like two dozen different sets of Runes, and sometimes you use more than one set at a time. Those tests were the other major headache generator.
"Then you have Care, Herbology, History, and Muggle Studies which are all straight-up memorization and paper writing. I don't have anything special to say about those, except that I lost a bunch of marks for using small words." It was an exaggeration, but making Hermione laugh is fun.
"You're ready for Potions, full stop. You can borrow my higher-level books if you want, but you've got all the practical experience you need. And last is Divination, which is some kind of sick joke. Unless I suddenly develop 'The Sight,' I can't really do much more for it than I have."
"I think I'll test for everything but Arithmancy and Runes this year," Hermione said after a moment's thought. "Those seem like the only courses that need some time to learn. I'll ask Professor Dumbledore if he'll let me test for the other two in September."
"I'm sure he will."
Other than studying, the term progressed uneventfully. The Quidditch games against Slytherin and Gryffindor were my only real excitement. The Slytherins were a physically powerful team, and our players suffered dozens of minor injuries in the first ten minutes of play. We'd have lost players if it continued, so I decided to change tactics: Using my magic to fortify myself into a human Bludger, I rode my broom at near-to-full speed and slammed into the Slytherin Chasers and Beaters mercilessly. These hits were blatant fouls, and earned Slytherin about 40 penalty shots, but the injuries were slowing them down, and eventually their lines fell apart.
For the last part of the game Roger, Bradley and I had a nearly-continuous three-on-one advantage against Slytherin's Keeper, who was rubbish without the goon squad protecting him. Terrence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, was no match at all for Cho, and after a half-hearted chase, she caught the Snitch 45 minutes into the game, punishing Slytherin with a 560-250 victory. The Slytherins were furious with the loss, but the ones that mattered --the Malfoys and Parkinsons-- had worn Ravenclaw colors. The entire Ravenclaw team was battered and bruised, me more than most, but our crude "third Beater" play had been effective.
Gryffindor had a powerful team with a lousy Seeker named Lee Jordan. Rumor had it that he only got the position by being friends with Fred and George, and there wasn't anyone else better to choose from. The Weasley twins were vicious Beaters, though, and Oliver Wood was a tremendous Keeper. Their Chaser line, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, were very skilled and played off each other like professionals, and the play was dead even at 50-50 after two hours of play. Cho was running circles around Jordan, but Fred and George were launching Bludgers at her with abandon, forcing her to fly defensively rather than follow the Snitch. I wasn't surprised that Roger eventually shouted at me to switch with Cho.
I tore after the Snitch like a madman every time I saw it. The one flaw in Gryffindor was their Seeker, and they knew it. If I played it safe the Weasleys would shut me down just like they did to Cho, and I couldn't let that happen. On the other hand, the Gryffindors had no reserve Seeker, and with every Bludger that kept me from the Snitch, I felt more and more that a flaw like that should be exploited. As the game hit the three-hour mark and we were now 50-90 in favor of Gryffindor, I decided on a high-risk gambit. Putting on a burst of speed, I buzzed past Jordan, knowing he would turn to follow.
I took us right past the Weasley twins, setting myself up for a punishing Doppelbeater attack as they were now both behind me. I kept my speed at a level that Jordan could tail me easily, and waited for the telltale double-crack of the Bludgers. Once I heard the second impact, I pushed down hard on my broom handle, going over more than 100 degrees and flying slightly upside-down towards the pitch. Jordan overshot the turn like I knew he would, not being skilled enough to turn as fast as I could. The twins' Bludgers trailed above me like I knew they would, anticipating a straighter route instead of the hairpin turn I just pulled. I crossed my fingers, and...
THUMP-THUMP!!
With two dull thuds, Jordan sailed off his broom like a rag doll, both Bludgers lodged into his back. He probably had a broken spine and maybe a few ribs --I know that sounds bad, but it's nothing that Madam Pomfrey and some Skele-Gro can't fix. The game was stopped as Madam Hooch and Pomphrey came running out onto the field, slowing Lee's limp, falling form. Pomfrey then began the trek back to the Hospital Wing, levitating Jordan while she began to work on the worst of his injuries. Hooch started the game again in a couple of minutes, but the Gryffindors' momentum was broken. They subbed Katie Bell in as a Seeker, but she wasn't used to it at all, and their reserve Chaser had obviously never had any game time. Fred and George were both guilt-ridden from injuring their friend, and were horribly off target with their Bludgers.
Cho went back to Seeking, and took her sweet time catching the Snitch. During that time Roger, Bradley and I took it to Wood and amassed a 100 point lead. It was a testament to Wood's mettle that he performed as well as he did, having next to no defense and was the only Gryffindor left playing 100%. He pulled crazy moves on his broom, stopping shot after shot, but he couldn't stop them all. My respect for the man kept increasing as he worked tirelessly to prevent the score from becoming too lopsided.
Cho finally ended the game, and we enjoyed a 350-100 victory. I had a couple of words with Roger, and then I took Bradley and went over to Wood. "We're taking you for a victory lap," I told him, and we took off, holding Wood by the arms.
"LET'S HEAR IT FOR WOOD!" Roger's shouted with a magically amplified voice. "THE ONLY GRYFFINDOR WORTH THE NAME!" We took Wood around the pitch twice to the standing ovation of the entire crowd, especially the Gryffindors.
Hermione caught up with me as I left the team dress room. She liked to walk back to the tower with me from practices and games, and I was grateful for the company. Even though she seemed to detest Quidditch, she hadn't missed a game that I was in, and always fussed about my injuries. She seemed particularly happy today as Gryffindor had played fair, so there wasn't a scratch on me.
"That was your idea, wasn't it?" she stated more than asked me as we began walking.
"About Wood?" Seeing her nod, I did, too. "Yeah, I wanted to make sure that he was recognized. If the press writes another article like they have for the other games, I want his name in there. He deserves it, he was amazing."
Hermione just smiled at me and took my hand; we walked back the tower in comfortable silence. I'm sure that the entire Ravenclaw tower noticed that we were holding hands again, but Roger and Cho were very protective of me, and any off-color remarks about me and Hermione never made it back to my ears.
The Daily Prophet printed small articles about me in their sports section. There was one titled "Tiny Raven Terrorizes Serpents!" that spent equal time bashing the Slytherin team for having to resort to violence, and chastising me for lowering myself to Slytherin standards, even if they did deserve it.
The game against Gryffindor got me the second page with a large picture showing Roger announcing Wood while Bradley and I led him around the pitch, and a smaller picture showing Wood performing one of his riskier saves. The article spent far too much time talking about me, but they highlighted Wood's superb performance in a three-on-one situation. "I hope that League officials were watching," the article stated, "because Oliver Wood will take any team he plays on to the World Cup."
Gryffindor had won their games against Hufflepuff and Slytherin, and Slytherin had won against Hufflepuff. That left Ravenclaw and Gryffindor to play again for the championship.
I never got to play that game, though, and some of you know why. For those reading that don't, here's the full story:
In response to Hermione's request late in May to get some hands-on creature experience for her Care studies, I got a note from Hagrid asking me to meet him at his hut late that afternoon with Hermione and any other friends I wanted to bring. Fred and George had scared Ron senseless with stories of 'giant spiders' that hung around Hagrid, so he had begged off the trip. Draco, Pansy, Hermione and I went down to Hagrid's hut expecting either tea with a friend, or some illegal creature that he had smuggled in -- in fact, I had brought my Invisibility Cloak along just in case. I hadn't used it much this year; I didn't really feel like breaking rules, and I could picture the stern look on Professor Dumbledore's face when he had written "it will not work on me." I had a hunch that it might come in handy tonight, though; must have been all the Divination work.
We were all surprised to see Hagrid with a large crossbow out, looking geared up for the road. "C'mon, you guys," he said to us, "We're headin' inter the Forest. Got sumthin' ter check out, an' I figure that I could show you lot the Forest while I'm at it."
The reactions from us were quite varied: Pansy and I were grinning, thinking about what fun might be had in the Forest; Hermione looked scandalized and worried, likely thinking about the "Forbidden" part of all of this. Draco looked plain scared, and was trying futilely to hide it.
"But Hagrid, we're not allowed into the Forest. Won't we all be in trouble for this?" Ah, classical Hermione; how I miss this.
"Nah, the Forest's perfectly safe; S'only forbidden to keep the students out, s'all. Dumbledore said that ye're alrigh' ter go, long as you're wit' me an' stick together. 'Sides, me and young 'Arry here can take jest about anythin' that we come `cross. Ain't nothin' in here near as strong as a Troll."
With that, I was geared to go, and Hermione's major concern was laid to rest. Draco's fear mellowed into trepidation, and we were off down a forest path, looking for what Hagrid described as a "trail of silvery stuff." Along the way, Hagrid pointed out the homes and locations of plants and animals that existed in the forest. I can't for the life of me tell you what we saw along the way, because what we eventually found imprinted itself into my mind.
Once we came across the trail Hagrid was looking for, Hagrid became serious, and told us that it was Unicorn blood, and that this wasn't the first time it's happened this year. Following it led us to a clearing, where Hagrid expected to find a wounded or dead Unicorn, and hopefully the beast behind the killings.
Hagrid was spot-on: In the clearing, we found the corpse of the Unicorn, and a dark shape bent over it. Hagrid immediately thought it was a Lethifold, and fired his crossbow at it. As soon as Hagrid fired, the shape moved, and the crossbow bolt snapped as if it hit a wall. The shape stood up, and it became obvious that this was not a Lethifold, but a man in a dark cloak; a man with glowing, blood-red eyes...
My scar surged like it never had before, and an irrational anger took hold of me. More than anything, I wanted to hurt this man; more than anything, I wanted to kill him. I brought my wand up, but the man was far faster.
Before any of us could cast, he slashed his wand downward, launching a thin vertical crescent of energy several feet across toward Hagrid. Hagrid tried to dodge out of the way, but the spell caught his wand arm at the elbow, severing it cleanly. The curse continued past Hagrid, slicing though four trees before it lost potency. As Hagrid fell screaming, the man turned the same curse on us.
I pulled Hermione to me and shouted "Protego!" pushing with all my power. A perfect blue energy field appeared, and the crescent curse broke into angry energy arcs across my shield as it impacted. I felt the pressure of the hit, but it wasn't anything compared to the troll's club, and I was a little bit stronger than I used to be.
Any hope of returning fire was immediately quashed as several more crescents flew towards us. Pansy got her own shield charm up, but staggered back with the blow as the curse hit. Draco's shield wasn't strong enough, and he lost both of his legs just below the knee.
"Petrificus Totalus," Hermione intoned, stepping out from behind my shield. With a flick of his wand, the man reversed the direction of the hex, forcing Hermione to dodge her own spell.
"Pathetic effort, mudblood!" he shouted. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Shit! I launched myself at Hermione, tackling her at the waist. My shield followed me, but the jagged green bolt of the Killing Curse arced through it like it wasn't even there, missing our heads by inches.
"Enough," the man whispered to himself. "We have what we need." Firing another crescent curse at me and Pansy to keep us behind our shields, the man raised his hands and seemed to draw the shadows to him. Floating a few inches from the ground, he literally flew towards the castle, wisps of shadow trailing behind him.
"Damn it!" I was really, really pissed. I was quite ready to fly off after him, but Hermione grabbed my arm.
"Harry, we have ho help Hagrid and Draco!"
Right; dying friends come first. I forced my anger down, and looked around. Hagrid was back up on his feet, fumbling around with a healing spell using his off-hand. I knew nothing about healing spells, so I hoped that he knew what he was doing.
Draco was shivering and moaning, obviously in shock. He had lost a lot of blood, and was white as a ghost. Pansy was trying to stop the bleeding with her robe, but I knew we needed better than that, and I only had one idea.
"Stupefy. Pansy, move away." I hoped that Draco would forgive me if this didn't work. I knelt down to his legs, and forcefully intoned "Incendio."
Ignoring the shrieks of the girls, I quickly cauterized the two stumps to prevent any further blood loss. As I was finishing, I saw a bright light fly past us at an amazing speed toward the castle. Looking behind me I saw Hagrid still holding his wand awkwardly in his left hand. His right arm was attached, but it looked very pale.
"Dumbledore'll be here right quick," he said. "Jes' you keep him comft'rble. I'm alrigh'."
I knelt beside Draco and straightened his robe, not knowing what else to do. Hermione and Pansy both knelt beside me and put their arms around me. Both girls were beginning to cry, and I was fighting the urge. My irrational anger was still surging underneath, making it very difficult for me to control my emotions.
Only seconds later, there was a large fiery burst near us, and Dumbledore was there, with a magnificent red and gold peacock-sized bird perched on his shoulders. Without speaking, his wand was out and Draco's legs were rejoined in seconds.
"Ms. Parkinson, hold onto Mr. Malfoy. Tell Madam Pomfrey that he needs to be treated for blood loss more than anything else. Fawkes, take them." Fawkes must have been the bird, as it trilled a response and flew over to Draco, landing on his chest. Once Pansy had taken hold of Draco's robes, there was another burst of flame, and they both disappeared.
When I looked back to Dumbledore, he had already healed Hagrid's arm. Another bright white light shot towards the castle, and then Dumbledore turned to me. "Take Ms. Granger back to your tower. I would prefer you stay in your rooms, but do not leave your tower. Severus, Hagrid and I will deal with this man."
I wasn't quite ready to leave, but the angry look on Dumbledore's face quelled any desire I had to argue. I took Hermione's hand, and we jogged back through the forest to the castle. By the time we got to Ravenclaw tower, it was late evening.
"I'm going after them," I stated just before we reached the tower's portrait door.
"What? Harry, no! He'll kill you!" Hermione's eyes were wide with fear, and she gripped my robes tightly.
"I have to; this has something to do with me anyways, I know it. I have my cloak; I'll be okay."
"Harry, no. I... you can't just ignore Professor Dumbledore, he... please, Harry. Don't go."
"I'm sorry. I have to." I smiled as I saw Hermione's entire train of thought in the look she gave me. "No, Hermione. You aren't fast enough to bind me. Please don't try; I'd never raise my wand against you."
"Please..." she whispered, tears beginning to form. "I don't want this to be the last time I see you."
"I'll be back, I promise." I hugged her with everything I had, and then broke off at a run. My anger was starting to resurface, but my promise to Hermione tempered it a little. I would win, no matter what it took. I knew that there was only one target in the castle that someone would bother to break in to reach.
Pushing myself to supernatural speeds, I reached the third floor corridor the Cerberus' door in seconds. The door itself was off its hinges, and the Cerberus was a little ruffled, and very angry. I threw my cloak on, cast the strongest body-cleaning charm I could to dull my smell, and then cast a silencing charm on the room.
Silent, scentless and invisible, I ran to the open trap door, and jumped down. I landed in an enormous patch of weeds that quickly announced itself as Devil's Snare by trapping me with vines. I pushed my magic to my limbs, and with strength well beyond that of a child I managed to free my wand hand. Five flame hexes later, the Devil's Snare was dead, and I was running down a roughly cut stone tunnel, and into a room with hundreds of flying keys.
The room was obviously designed to have someone play Seeker with the keys, finding the right one and then unlocking the door. A revealing charm showed a massive amount of magic present, and I knew that under normal circumstances, no amount of fancy spell casting would let anyone get through without finding the right key. Every key had obscured charms on them, and it was a safe bet that grabbing the wrong key would be detrimental to your health.
The broken door on the other side of the room told me that whoever made this room did not expect someone of this caliber. I ran through the room, and entered a larger chamber with pieces of giant armored figures strewn about. About ten minutes ago, those figures would have been the room's guardians. The walls were scorched with the telltale angular burns that spellfire produced, and ambient magic still hung heavily in the air; a lot of fighting had happened here, and quite recently.
I crossed the room and exited to the other side. Once again the door had been blown off violently. In this room was an exit with black flames barring passage. Sitting in this room was professor Dumbledore, nursing several cuts and scrapes, and working on healing a critically wounded Hagrid.
"Harry," he breathed, turning immediately to me. I guess he wasn't lying about being able to see through Invisibility Cloaks. "What are you doing here?"
"I-"
"Never mind," he said, cutting across me. I could see in his eyes that the Headmaster was no longer present. I was dealing with the General now. "I cannot pass this barrier without disabling it first, and it will take time. Severus has gone ahead, as the barrier is his own design. Your cloak will shield you from the barrier. Go ahead and help Severus stall for time until I can get there."
"My cloak...?"
"Harry!"
"Err, yes sir!" I turned and walked toward the barrier. It felt like walking through a waterfall; there was a lot of pressure, but the cloak did its job. In less than a second I was through the barrier and into the next room, which was nearly half the size of the Great Hall. There were arches on the walls, pillars all the way around the room, and a wondrous shining light coming from the center of the ceiling. This room definitely reminded me of Dumbledore.
In the center of the room stood a tall mirror; in front of the mirror dueling with Snape was the man that I had fought, his dark cloak removed.
Quirrel.
I had a hard time equating the pathetic, stuttering Defense professor with the killer I saw before me. Quirrel and Snape danced gracefully around each other as Dark magics soared around the room. Each spell promised death, and the walls were riddled with the long slashes of Quirrel's cutting curse, or groupings of small craters from the curse Snape used against the Troll. They cast their spells at a withering rate, faster than anything I'd ever seen.
And Dumbledore thought Snape needed my help?
It became apparent that he did, though: Slowly, one close call at a time, Snape was being overwhelmed and worked into a corner. With less and less room to maneuver, dodging became impossible, and Snape had to switch from counter curses and deflection spells to solid shields. Quirrel seemed to have been waiting for this, and launched a flurry of cutting crescents, following up with "Crucio!"
The Unforgivable lanced through Snape's shield, and the professor fell to the ground screaming. Quirrel didn't hold the curse, however, and dispatched Snape with a silent Stunner.
With Snape down, it was obviously my turn, and I wasn't about to waste time. Mustering all my concentration, I fired off a silent Expelliarmus at Quirrel, hoping to catch him by surprise while he had his back turned. Quirrel sensed the magic and turned quickly, but the charm struck him dead-center, and Quirrel's wand flew to me.
"Damn you!" He screamed at me, not a trace of stuttering in his voice. "I've come too far to be stopped by a child like you. I-- master, no! Master, WAIT! MA--AAARGH!" Quirrel stumbled around for a second, holding his head as if it would explode, then froze in place, and slowly righted himself. When he next opened his eyes, they weren't just glowing red anymore, but were lit like blazing fires. Looking at those eyes was like staring into the headlights of a semi coming straight for you -- a guaranteed death.
"Harry Potter, we meet at last..." The voice that came from Quirrel was not his; barely a whisper. It was the same whisper that I had heard in the forest, when I thought Quirrel was talking to himself. My scar was aching, and I knew exactly who it was that was speaking to me.
"Voldemort," I whispered. The rage that I had felt was gone, completely suppressed by fear.
"Come, Harry, I am unarmed now. Let us dispense with wands, and talk like proper gentlemen." His eyes flashed brighter for a second, and all of a sudden both wands shot out of my hands and were engulfed in bright flames. Whatever was left of the wands landed in the corner of the room.
"Now come, Harry; come to the Mirror of Erised. I'm sure you've heard of it? Such an amazing artifact it is. Come, and let us examine it together." An unyielding force grabbed me and pushed me forward. As much as I wanted to fight it, I found myself forced to walk to Voldemort. The loss of control was more horrible than anything I'd ever felt before. I'd been hit with tickling hexes, tripping jinxes, and more than a few that left boils or worse on my face. Everything had a counter spell to it, and I knew them all. Everything could be blocked by a shield. Being wandless and at the mercy of someone who by thought alone could dominate my movements was terrifying.
Then I came to the mirror, and my world stopped: Standing in the mirror, looking at me with sad eyes, were my parents.
I could barely breathe. Every now and then my father would shoot a venomous glance toward Voldemort, but my mother looked only at me, with tears flowing from same emerald green eyes that I had. She pressed up against the other side of the glass, as though she was actually there; as if I could touch her if I could just reach past the glass...
I could feel the tears streak down my face. This couldn't be real, and yet they were standing there: My father, ready to attack Voldemort all over again, and my mother, ready to run to me.
"Marvelous man, Dumbledore," Voldemort said as he watched the mirror, "To hide the Stone in the Mirror and to place restrictions on its removal. Truly, he has outdone himself. I see the Stone in the Mirror, Harry. It calls to me, wanting me to take it. But naturally, I cannot. Dumbledore would have prevented me from personally claiming the Stone, even in this pathetic body." He turned to me, smirking. "How do you think Quirrel did as a Defense professor, Harry? Did he do his job?"
"Not really," I said, trying to disguise my fear. "Barely covered what the textbook did. Maybe you should've taken over for him; we'd have learned loads." I had no idea what Stone he was talking about, but since he obviously expected me to know, I tried to play along. Stall for time, Harry. Dumbledore's coming. Stall for time...
His smile was even bigger then, and he seemed to be reliving a memory. "Yes," he chuckled, "I could have taught you all so well. I wanted to once, Harry. When Dumbledore was first made Headmaster, I asked for the Defense position. Generations of students could have benefited from my knowledge and experience. Hundreds of wizards and witches would have learned to properly harness their power... as you are learning.
"Yes, Harry, I see much of myself in you. I have no doubt that you will become a very capable and powerful wizard. I am rightfully proud to see you wield such power at so young an age; a strong grasp on your magic, silent casting of spells; a well-sated thirst for knowledge, and the will to use it. You are what I always wanted for this weak-willed society to become, Harry. Imagine, if you will, a society where every child commands power as you do, where every adult could command power such as mine, and where the weak are removed.
"It was not to be, Harry. Dumbledore turned me away, and forced me to instruct society using... other methods." The way he said those last words sent an involuntary shudder down my spine. He was looking at me directly now, his eyes burning straight through me.
"Those methods were terrible, magnificent, and brutal. They allowed me to demonstrate the power that a pure, unsullied society would hold, if only they could master themselves physically and magically. For my demonstrations, I was fought: By the Ministry of Magic, and by Dumbledore and his followers. The Ministry could do nothing because they were weak, saturated as they have become with the rabble I wish to eradicate." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It was Dumbledore that intrigued me; Dumbledore that had the power to face me; such an impressive man. But he could not defeat me, Harry. He tried, several times, to do so. He failed every time."
His eyes were boring into me; I could almost feel the heat off of them. "It was you, Harry, who defeated me. You, as a child, had power that I could not fathom. And when I cast the curse that should have killed you, it rebounded, and I was destroyed.
"But not killed."
"My parents were," I said, trying to hold onto my composure in the face of my parents' killer. "You murdered them; you destroyed my life."
"I killed your parents because they opposed me, Harry. I fought them as they fought me. I was the stronger. They did not need to fight me, Harry, just as you do not.
"I know you must carry protection; the only times I felt aware of your existence was in your Defense classes and during your Quidditch matches. I heard the rumors of your power, and I felt compelled to test you on your first match. You performed above all my expectations."
"That was you?!" I blurted, surprised.
"Yes, Harry. Quirrel alone did not have the power to covertly bewitch the broom and the Bludger, but I do. I wished to speak with you so dearly afterwards, but your protections render you impossible for me to locate unless you willingly enter my presence. After the first Quidditch game, I did not dare to provoke Dumbledore further, lest he discover me. I am more than a match for him, but Quirrel is not. Likewise, your Defense classes are far too public, and your protection prevented me from simply calling you to my office."
"Professor Dumbledore did say that this was the most complex piece of magic he ever cast," I said. Keep the conversation going, Harry. Just a bit longer... I hope.
"I must agree; I have never seen such complex a ward structure in my life. You are a shining beacon on magic, Harry. But that matters little, as you are here, now, in front of me. Though your mother's blood is less than desirable, you have proven yourself worthy beyond all doubt, and through you, your mother as well. Join me now, Harry. My Death Eaters betrayed me, thinking me dead. Most were quick to forget their pledges of loyalty, the rest possessed of sufficient stupidity to be caught by the Ministry dogs they fought against. I have no one, just as you have no one. Together, we can start anew. Together, we can reach this Stone, and with the immortality it provides, we will unlock our highest potentials, and show these poor excuses for wizards exactly what a `wizard' should be. Come with me, Harry. Your future will be brighter than you can ever imagine."
He stood there with that smile on his face, his eyes bright as floodlights. He had his hand extended to me, waiting for me to take it. There was no force on me; apparently he was giving me the chance to accept on my own.
I knew my choices: I could say yes, help him get whatever 'Stone' he wanted, and probably die, or say no and definitely die. There was really only one choice to make, but fear makes decisions like this difficult. I looked back at the mirror.
My father's dark eyes were shining golden with power, staring at Voldemort with undisguised hatred; my mother's eyes were locked with mine. She had her face pressed against the mirror, mouthing the words I had never heard before in my life:
I love you.
"I love you, too, mum." And with that statement, my fear began to fade. All that was left was my enemy, and something I could not let him have.
Slowly raising my right hand to take Voldemort's, I threw all my magic behind my left fist as I slammed it into the man's crotch. I could feel my knuckles brush the back of his pelvic bone and Voldemort flew back about five feet, landing face down. He immediately curled into a fetal position, but I was quite sure that while Quirrel might have been down for the count, to Voldemort this was only a momentary inconvenience. That moment was all that I really wanted, though.
Focusing all my magic on my left leg, I brought it up, and kicked the mirror as hard as I could. I heard Voldemort scream "NO!" just as my foot hit the mirror, cracking the whole surface like a large spider web. My father and mother were smiling in the mirror; my dad winked at me, and he cocked his fist back and slammed his hand into the other side. A huge shard of the mirror came flying off, and there was a loud echoing tone in the air as the Mirror's enchantments died. My parents' image faded away as the rest of the mirror blew apart, the pieces falling to my feet.
There was no Stone in that mess.
Voldemort roared incoherently with rage, and in two steps he had me by the neck, choking the life from me. Something in my neck started to pop, but he let go almost right after, screaming in pain. His hands were burnt an angry red where they had touched me, and they looked like they were already starting to swell. Whatever this was, I needed to keep Voldemort touching me, and not doing something smart like kicking me, or using his magic to throw me around the room. I lunged forward and grabbed his face, hoping that my touching him would work the same way.
Voldemort screamed louder, and tried to pull my hands off his face, only to have his hands start to burn again. I focused all my magic on keeping a grip on his smoking head. The pain really started when his face and hands actually caught fire. The flames were a brilliant white like Dumbledore's flame hex, and they completely drowned out the glow of his red eyes. But God, the pain...
I was nowhere near to Voldemort's power, and in only seconds my magic was depleted. I was thrown into one of the pillars behind me with enough force to crack my spine. I kept my head ducked so that I wouldn't hit it, but the pain that exploded in my back left me paralyzed. I sat crumpled against the base of the pillar, and watched in agony as Voldemort started to walk towards me. His skull showed through his charred face and white flames still danced on his head and arms. His red eyes were trained on me like laser sights, and I knew I was going to die. I couldn't kill him, and my magic was exhausted. I'm sorry, Hermione. I couldn't keep my promise. I lost, Professor, but we won. Voldemort towered over me, and I closed my eyes.
There was a gale force wind that suddenly picked up. I didn't dare open my eyes out of pain and fear. Let it end. Let the pain end. Let me see my parents again.
The wind stopped after only a moment, and there was a second of deafening silence, before Voldemort spoke.
"No."
My ears nearly burst as there was a sound deeper and louder than the largest subwoofers a muggle dance club. I felt the stone crack around me, and I felt the brush of fabric as something flew past me at great speeds. There was a sickening crunch from the far side of the room, and then silence. Deciding that I wasn't dead yet, I opened my eyes.
I could see Voldemort crumpled against the far wall of the room. Standing above me with his eyes and his wand glowing bright blue with power was Dumbledore. Voldemort did not rise; a thin black vapor trailed from the body, and wafted towards the room's exit. Dumbledore carefully watched that vapor, and only when it had disappeared completely did he lower his wand, and turn to me. Dumbledore waved his wand twice over me, and I fell into a mercifully painless sleep.
When I awoke, I was in the Hospital Wing, being blinded by a shaft of sunlight from the window across from me. My glasses were still in one piece and on my face, which made me chuckle -- those charms were pretty potent, then. As the very one-sided fight I was just in came back to me, I quickly squirmed around in bed, seeing if I was still injured. Nothing seemed to hurt, and I had full mobility, so I slowly got up from bed and tested my legs out. Standing... walking... a quick jog on the spot... perfect. My hands told the tale of my ordeal, though. Even though they felt fine, the skin of my palms was onyx black. Small trails of that blackness licked around the sides of my hands and back across my wrists and forearms, as though those white flames had permanently burnt my skin. Despite the blackness, the skin was perfect; I could just make out my fingerprints.
A quick look around my bed showed me that there were several people -- Hermione, Pansy, Draco, and a bunch of Weasleys -- that had sent me sweets and chocolates, one vase of brightly colored flowers, and several cards that wished for a swift recovery --Fred and George's rather vocally. I smiled as I read them all; it meant that everyone else was all right.
"I see you're up and about, Harry." I turned to see Professor Dumbledore in the doorway, smiling at me. Infectious as the man's smile is, I couldn't help but smile wider than I already was. "I was hoping that you'd be fully recovered today. I'm sure that you have questions, and I would appreciate hearing from you exactly what happened. Even though I wanted you safely in your tower, I must thank you greatly for coming when you did. I may or may not have won against Voldemort, but your actions most likely saved Severus' life." With that, the professor walked over and sat down on my bed. Before I could join him, I heard an excited squeak from behind him in the doorway and turned back just in time to catch a flying bushy-haired missile named Hermione. Professor Snape and Hagrid came in at a more sedate pace, and they made themselves comfortable on the nearby beds.
Once I had calmed Hermione down, the full explanations took more than two hours. Once upon a time, Dumbledore worked with Nicholas Flamel. Flamel's greatest creation had been the Philosopher's Stone, which granted him immortality. Flamel agreed with Dumbledore about the threat of Voldemort returning, and had initially sent his stone to Gringotts to be protected. What was to be a routine change of location for the stone occurred on the same day that Hagrid had gone into Gringotts with me; it was what he had emptied from the high security vault. Hagrid then told us about Fluffy, the Cerberus that he had gotten to perform guard duty for the Stone. Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall had set up the armor guardians, and Snape had set up a barrier that only Voldemort's Dark Mark could bypass -- and even then, only on the way in. Dumbledore himself charmed the Mirror of Erised to work as the Stone's final defense. "I had charmed the Mirror to release the Stone to someone who wanted it, but who did not want to use it. I had thought the charm brilliant, of course. I had never considered that someone would face the Mirror as you did, Harry, with no real knowledge of the Stone, nor any desire for it at all. I also never anticipated that someone would physically destroy the Mirror. Alas, to think like a young man again."
"I only wanted the Stone away from Voldemort at the end," I said. "I didn't know that I would destroy it." Dumbledore and Snape looked at each other for a long time, before Dumbledore looked back at me.
"Take off your glasses, Harry. Have a good look at them." I did as he said, quite confused, and stifled a gasp at what I saw reflected in the front of the lenses. My father stood in my left lens, looking up at me proudly. Standing in my right lens with a large red gemstone in her hand was my mother.
"How..." I began but couldn't finish.
"Old Magic is very persistent, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "The Mirror of Erised was a powerful piece of Old Magic. The magic understood in a rudimentary way that its primary purpose was to defend the Stone from Voldemort. So it did so in the best manner it saw possible, and took the avenue you so ably provided when you destroyed the original Mirror."
"But, my glasses…?"
"The magic of the Mirror transferred to the closest reflective surface it could find," Snape said. "In this case, it was your glasses. Considering that the Dark Lord was the enemy, the magic would have found a place to exist on you, even if it was your belt buckle, Potter."
Hermione got it way before I did. "Oh, that's right! Your protection, Harry! Voldemort can't ever locate the Stone again, because he can't locate you!" Both professors nodded, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of being the world's safe-spot from Voldemort.
"We may need to remove the Stone now and then for Nicholas," Dumbledore said, "But on the whole I'd imagine that there isn't a safer place for it."
With the death of Quirrel, there was bound to be Aurors investigating, so we prepared our story. Publicly, it was Quirrel that made the attempt on the Stone. With me, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Snape, Hagrid and Dumbledore as witnesses, we testified to dueling with him in the Forbidden Forest where he had killed a Unicorn for its blood. He defeated us and escaped to the castle to steal the Stone. Chasing him into the castle, Professor Dumbledore and I cornered Quirrel near the Stone, and I destroyed the Stone to prevent its theft, injuring Professor Quirrel badly in the process. Quirrel then attempted to kill me, but Professor Dumbledore dueled with him, killing him in the process of defending me. Dumbledore proudly presented the four of us with Special Awards for Services to the School for the role we all played in confronting Quirrel. The name Voldemort was never mentioned.
I had missed the last Quidditch game, which lasted five hours. Gryffindor had won by 10 points due entirely to Cho not being able to avoid Fred and George and catch the Snitch until it was too late. Due largely to the points I amassed for my academics in the first part of the school year, and Hermione's point throughout, Ravenclaw won the House Cup. Pansy, Draco, Hermione and I were congratulated several times by students of all years for dealing with Quirrel and offered their sympathies for my permanently marked hands. I quickly wrote my finals for Divination, scoring A's on both of them. I had the sneaky suspicion that I could have lied to Trelawney about what I had seen to increase my mark, but I hardly cared; she'd never teach me again. My first year practical exams were O's across the board. Hermione sat her exams and passed all of them with a lot more O's and E's than I managed. Ron passed with the A's and low E's that he'd held for the entire year, and Draco ended up with O's and high E's all over - a perk to hanging out with Hermione. Pansy had marks to match her attitude: Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and Potions were O's; Muggle Studies, Astronomy and History were A's.
Professor Dumbledore met with me again before I left to go over next year's plans. "I will adjust the wards around Hogwarts to guard against Voldemort returning and possessing another person," he said. "It will be difficult, but I have three months to manage it. You are free to do as you please for the summer, but please keep your glasses with you at all times."
"I'm hoping to see my friends this summer," I said. "There's not going to be problems with that, is there?"
"The only place that I'm even remotely concerned about is Malfoy Manor. I would suggest allowing Lucius and Narcissa to invite you directly. If the invitation reaches you, it's safe to go."
"Okay. What about being able to tell people stuff?"
"Please leave the important details out for the Malfoys, Harry. If you decide you trust the Parkinsons, then go ahead, though I doubt Ms. Parkinson's parents would enjoy learning that she encountered Voldemort on Hogwarts grounds and I'm sure that would come back to haunt me politically. The Weasleys and Ms. Granger are perfectly safe to tell."
I nodded, as that was more or less what I had in mind in the first place.
After a large leaving feast and several congratulations from professors for me and Hermione -including one from Snape who thanked us both for removing ourselves from his classroom-it was finally time to leave Hogwarts. The crowd of students messing with trunks caused me no end of amusement as I helped Hermione maneuver hers into the compartment and onto the rack. Judging by its weight, she'd managed to get permission to borrow a few library books. Pansy joined us, and Ron came in with his brothers. Draco stopped by to say hello, and left to sit with Crabbe and Goyle and sucker them into whatever he wanted done over the summer. It was convenient, as it gave me the perfect audience for my story.
Everyone made the appropriate noises in the appropriate places while I related the uncensored version of the Philosopher's Stone Incident. The Weasley clan was uniformly surprised that Voldemort allowed Draco to be targeted. Pansy was upset that I didn't take her along, and Hermione was upset that I went at all. Everyone except Hermione was floored that I was now the protector of the Philosopher's Stone, which Voldemort thought was destroyed, and exactly how much protection against Voldemort I truly had. My black hands told the story better than I could about how much power was involved, and how close I came to being killed.
Ron was very sure that his mother would want to have me over during the summer, and Pansy voiced her desire to have me over, too. Hermione quietly said that her parents weren't ready for company yet, but that she'd love to come visit me.
You're all tallying up the Weird Points for Hermione's home life, right?
Draco also approached me and asked about seeing me over the summer, but only after I'd promised to not tell his parents about his injury. "They'd go berserk," he said quietly. "I'd never be let into Hogwarts again, and Father would make all sorts of trouble for Dumbledore. You'll want to be very careful what you say around them." Yes, Draco, you were on the ball so much more than I gave you credit for.
Other than that, the ride was routine: Percy was talking to Hermione and me about OWL exams while Ron, Pansy and the twins were playing Exploding Snap. When we got to the station, Pansy hugged me goodbye and ran off to find her parents, and Draco shook my hand and left in the same general direction. Hermione and I stayed with the Weasleys, and were greeted by a very happy Mrs. Weasley and a very shy Ginny. Mrs. Weasley was all for having me over, and before Ron and I could even begin explaining what was going on with the Dursleys, Mrs. Weasley was already set to take me home with her.
"I need to spend 21 days straight there, Mrs. Weasley," I interrupted, "After that, I'd love to stay with you."
"Well, if you must," she allowed. "There's always room for you at our place. I'll set up a bed for you in Ron's room. Percy's is bigger, though... he used to share a room with Bill and Charlie."
In the end, it was Percy's room that I was going to bunk in, and Mrs. Weasley ended up talking Hermione into visiting for a while too; I said goodbye to the Weasleys after figuring out what "Day 22" would be and learning from Mrs. Weasley exactly how to use the Knight Bus. I even coaxed Ginny out from behind her mother, and got her to promise to take care of Hedwig for me while she was at the Burrow. I learned from Hermione and Pansy that it's hard not to fall in love with Hedwig and Ginny was soon smiling and talking a mile a minute. The Weasleys soon left in a little red-headed ball of chaos, and I turned to say goodbye to Hermione.
"Here," she said, passing me a piece of parchment. "This is my phone number and address. I'd like to see you over the summer; it's just not a good time for you to come over. I'd like to meet at Diagon Alley at least once, if you don't mind…?"
"That's fine," I said. "Is there something wrong?" I asked with my concern building with every cheap line she gave me about her home.
"No, Harry, there's nothing wrong; at least not with me." I couldn't help but notice that she looked away as she said this.
I reached out and held her by her shoulders, looking straight in her eyes. "If you need help, or anything, you come to me. I'll take care of it, I promise."
A large smile formed on her face. "Thank you," she said, moving forward to hug me. "Call me soon, alright?"
"Absolutely."
Hermione left with her trunk in tow, and I trekked through the station until I saw Uncle Vernon waiting for me. I bet he thought he was being so generous by coming to pick me up; I had a great time showing him my new wand, and telling him how much more magic I could do now. I've never seen a fake smile stretch so wide. The smile wasn't so false once I told him that we'd only be seeing each other three weeks a year, barring emergencies. My Uncle was quite happy after that, going so far as to thank me for the information. I decided not to tell him about the protection that he enjoyed because of me; I might break him.
After coming home to the equally fake smiles of my Aunt and cousin, I went upstairs to my bedroom, and dropped myself into my chair, placing my feet up on the desk. It wasn't anything ideal, but I was back at the Dursleys and in control. I had friends, an amazing start to my education, and partial revenge against my parents' murderer.
Things were looking good.
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