Marauder's Era Time Travel Yeet (prequel) (Patreon)

For the love of all that's holy, someone help me with a title.

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Lo everyone!

Got another new one here. HP has been riding my muse for like the past month, and seems to have a stranglehold on me. I tried and failed to write more for Inferno, but it was just HARD failing the vibe check.

The midmonth update will ALSO be this story, specifically the second year. Which is really strange to say, because this story is ending up COMPLETELY different from what I originally intended. This is SUPPOSED to be a Time/Universe travel fic where Harry gets yeeted to Hogwarts in the 70’s during Voldemort’s first Rise, and this was really supposed to just be a pilot for THAT. My plan was to run through Harry’s Hogwarts years really quickly right up until the yeet happened, only for him to wake up wondering wtf was going on. Except there were actually a decent number of differences so I couldn’t JUST speedrun all the way to year five like nothing changed, and didn’t really feel like ULTRA summarizing when there were changes I could make that needed some actual description.

And then I looked at the word count and I was at 38k and was only done with second year. :Facepalm: So, this is probably going end up more prequel than anything, and I’m going to continue writing until the muse throws in the towel and fucks off to do something else. Chapter two (second year) is already done, and then I split it since a lot of you mentioned how hard chapters that big are to read.

Anyway, hope you enjoy. There WILL be more of this coming probably for the next month or two unless the muse fucks off tomorrow.

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Harry had always known he was different. His earliest memories had been of the treatment his aunt, uncle, and cousin gave him. Where Dudley was showered with love and affection, Harry was drowned in cold indifference. He didn’t know why they treated him differently at first. Why his mother seemed to dislike him. Then he learned that she wasn’t his mother. She was his mother’s sister. That was strange to him, and he didn’t understand why that meant she didn’t love him at all.

He was seven when he learned just how different he was. It was Christmas Day and there hadn’t been a single present under the tree for him. He had already known Santa wasn’t real. He’d been awake when his Uncle Vernon had trudged down the stairs and started laying out the presents. Finding out the magic was fake had made him cry, but it hadn’t upset him nearly as much as getting nothing when the tree was filled with presents for Dudders. He wasn’t even allowed to sit with them and had been sent to his cupboard.

It had made him angry. And when he got angry, unbeknownst to his family, a gift had appeared in his hands when he thought ‘I WANT A PRESENT TOO!’ to himself. It was a medium-sized, heavy box addressed to Dudley, and Harry had been freaked out at first. How could a present have just appeared in his hands? And then he’d been hesitant. What if they found out? That would be awful. He had scrunched up his nose after hauling the box to a corner of his cupboard and simply lay there, silently chanting, “Forget about this present. Forget about this present.”

And they had. Neither Vernon nor Petunia noticed it was missing. It was as if the gift had never existed. Even a week later as they checked their finances, their eyes just glazed over the several-hundred-quid charge, unable to register it.

It was well into January before Harry was brave enough to open it. He was surprised to find a book series inside, though each book had more pictures than words. He couldn’t help but giggle a little when he saw the series was meant for older kids and teens. Either Vernon or Petunia had probably just gone to the store and asked a clerk for ‘something my son would like’ and not bothered to check anything else.

Well, Dudley’s loss was his gain. He started reading Bleach that night, though he fumbled with the books until he realized they read from right to left instead of left to right like normal. Later research would reveal that to be because it was a Japanese manga and that was how they were read. He was hooked practically from the first page! He wasn’t the fastest reader yet, though he improved as he went, and he needed to borrow a dictionary to help with some words. It took him over a month to read the whole series, and he loved it. And so, he went back to the start and started reading it again.

It would be so cool if he could do magic like they could! And it was as that thought raced through his mind that he froze almost to the point he wasn’t breathing. The Dursleys hadn’t noticed the gift was missing. He had received said gift because it had appeared in his hands. Could… could he do magic? Was that why his relatives didn’t like him? They always insisted it didn’t exist. Maybe it did, and they were just jealous?

He had to try it! Luckily, the series came with a lot of databooks, one of which had information on Kidō. He memorized the details of ‘Hadō #1, Shō’ and went to the park. Making sure that there was no one around, he took a deep breath and pointed at the sand. “Hadō #1, Shō.” Nothing happened, though he felt a strange tingling in his arm. He frowned, before taking another deep breath and trying again. This time, it almost felt as if his arm was driven back, and he staggered a tiny amount. His arm also had a vague ‘pins and needles’ feel. But that meant that it was real. Taking one last deep breath, he focused on that feeling. “Hadō #1, Shō.” A large divot was blown into the ground, blowing sand around. It wasn’t deep, but the hole was there.

And Harry’s face lit up with a blinding grin.

-]|[-

After that, things changed. He didn’t like his relatives any more than they liked him, but he would be mistreated no longer. It took him a while to get it right, but he slowly became able to control the local animals. Make them do what he wanted. And once that happened, he started to work on his relatives. Dudley was easy. All he needed to do was pretend Harry didn’t exist. After a round of Harry Hunting, he took control of Dudley and made him groan and say, “This is boring. Let’s go guys.” The other guys were confused at the sudden change of heart before the real fun could start, but they followed their leader.

And so, Harry became practically a nonentity to Dudley, with the little fat beach ball ignoring him whenever possible. Harry’s school life improved dramatically, and he was even able to make a friend or two! He didn’t reveal his abilities to them because those were his, but friends were great even if he had secrets!

Vernon was next. Harry had been diligently practicing Kidō, but the ones above rank thirty made him really tired, so he figured maybe there was some sort of magical puberty that he had to go through? He also couldn’t make a Zanpakutō or Quincy Cross pop out no matter how hard he tried, which was disappointing. He needed something new. A casual suggestion had Vernon taking the family to the mall. Again, Harry got a new set of manga, this time using his powers on both Petunia and Vernon to make them causally pay for the first set that caught his eye (Fairy Tail) without realizing who they were getting it for. Again, every time the charge would catch their eye on their bank statements, the several-hundred-quid loss would be ignored.

It had been a great decision. This series had magic all over the place! He devoured the series and databooks, and was pretty sad that most of the ‘Lost’ Magic abilities had very little to go off to learn them himself. But there were plenty of other types of magic for him to copy! The first one he tried (before he even finished the series for the first time due to how cool and useful it was!) ended up being Archive. He Archived all of his Bleach and Fairy Tail knowledge, making them far more accessible with less effort. Now if the actual books were ever discovered, he would still have access!

Once he did that, things became really fun. He was able to download information directly from books and then transfer knowledge into his mind! It hurt if he used it too much, so he had to go slowly, but that was how only a few years later, he was able to read, write, and speak several languages fluently!

And it also meant he could stop forcing his uncle to buy manga for him. He could just go to stores himself, download the information directly into his Archive, and then have fun reading them on his own later!

His magical abilities also grew by leaps and bounds. Fairy Tail provided so many avenues of research. Take Over: Animal Soul first gave him the form of one of Mrs. Figg’s giant Maine Coones, and then one of the neighbor’s dogs and birds. Mrs. Figg was sad one of her precious cats went missing, and Harry did feel bad about that… but at least she had dozens more. He felt less bad about Piers’s Alaskan Malamute. He was a jerk. At least the raven he took over didn’t have an owner. Flying. Was. Awesome.

And it even improved his eyesight! All he had to do was transform only the eyes, and he had perfect vision! Goodbye glasses and hello special transformations for his eyes!

Regular animals were cool and all, but there were way cooler animals around! A night’s flight to the Zoo had him using Take Over on a lot of the more exotic animals. That one caused a bit of an uproar when the zookeepers discovered several missing animals in the morning. Harry had winced really badly when he saw that on the news and how the nearby towns were practically on lockdown. He really needed to think a little more…

The years passed as he continued his studies, and his home life had massively improved. It only took a little subtle magic to rid himself of his cupboard, and he was given Dudley’s second room instead. Whenever Marge came around, Harry made sure she could neither notice him nor talk about him, because the first time she started insulting his mother at the dinner table, he had almost lost his cool and launched a Sōkatsui straight at her fat mug. And when her stupid bulldog Ripper got uppity and tried to bite Harry, all he had to do was turn into a Siberian Tiger to show it who was boss.

Stupid mutt.

Luckily, she and her mutt rarely came by, and Harry didn’t have to suffer their presence. Life went on, and Harry even got a girlfriend for a while! Before Dudley even! That made him quite smug for a little while, even if he didn’t actually know what to do with a girl. And then he knew too much and could barely look at her for a few days. And then she moved, which made him sad.

And then everything changed again. On the day before his fourteenth birthday, a little letter arrived for him in the mail. He’d been astonished to learn that there was an actual school for Witches and Wizards. Of course he was going to say yes! He’d brought it up during breakfast… and that was when he learned that enough emotion could break some of his mind-altering magic. The fury that Vernon and Petunia displayed shattered his spells, and it was almost as if things had gone back to the way things had been before he first stole Dudley’s gift.

No, perhaps even worse, because Vernon had tried to hit him. Well, Harry wasn’t about to take an inch of that. Hadō #1: Shō had solved that problem nearly instantly, throwing Vernon across the house. Petunia’s screaming had been grating on his nerves, and so he silenced her.

He glared, “You knew all along.” He snarled out at her, and her face turned white. “Was that why you hated me?!”

She started to talk, and was still silent because of his spell, and so he removed it. “You foul little cretin! After all we’ve done for-”

Harry transformed into a polar bear and let out an ursine roar directly into her face, slathering her in saliva. She pissed herself and nearly fainted as he turned back. “All you’ve done for me?” He scoffed as she shook, sitting in the puddle of her own urine. “You’ve done nothing for me! The only thing you’ve done is provide a roof! Everything I have, I’ve taken because you wouldn’t so much as give me a birthday gift! Would my mother have treated your precious diddy darling like that?!”

And that caused Petunia to burst into cold, bitter tears. Harry had slowly developed the ability to read minds over the years, and all at once, memories and feelings engulfed him. Her bitterness over learning her sister was a witch and she wasn’t. Writing to Hogwarts’s Headmaster begging to be taken to, only to be rejected as she had no magic of her own. Bitterness turning into hatred as jealousy burned through her every time her sister came home to be lauded by their parents. Their final falling out. Finding Harry on her doorstep and being forced to take him in when she never wanted him at all.

He even felt the grief that had engulfed Petunia when she had learned her sister had been murdered, proving that deep down, she had still felt some love for her despite all the jealous hate.

Harry had sneered at her then, realizing what a pathetic woman she truly was. “You’re an awful, jealous hag, Aunt.” He glared at her as he fixed the broken kitchen chair as well as the coffee table Vernon had landed on. “As soon as it’s legal, I’m getting out of this awful house. You three can go back to your precious normality. Until then, stay the fuck away from me.”

It didn’t take long after that for the huge Hagrid to show up, and then he’d been whisked away to Diagon Alley. The realization that he’d gotten from Petunia’s memory showed him that his mother had been a witch, and she had been murdered rather than dying in a car crash like he’d always been told. And so, he plied Hagrid for information on that, and had learned of the whole sordid affair behind the Dark Lord that had failed to kill a baby.

He was famous. That… that honestly made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t the fame itself that made him uncomfortable, but rather that it was because of something he had no memory of and definitely wasn’t responsible for! Discomfort turned into incredulity and outright anger when he learned there was an actual book series of his ‘adventures.’ When he would have been rotting at Number four Privet Drive if it hadn’t been for a bit of accidental magic!

He had made sure to disguise himself to hide his famous scar, and he made sure Hagrid was completely aware that he didn’t want his last name said in the Alley. He did not want to be recognized in the slightest!

His negativity had lasted until they reached Gringotts. Not only had the ride down been almost as fun as flying, but then they opened up his vault, and Harry realized he was loaded. More gold than he ever thought he’d see in his life fit inside the large cavern! He’d scooped up quite a bit of it, eager to feed his Archive. More than he needed, according to Hagrid, but Harry didn’t care. A stop at Madame Malkins had him ordering his uniform, while also getting really uncomfortable vibes from a blonde ponce.

Hagrid had been feeling sick, and so Harry had let him go off for a pick me up while he did his own shopping. He spent quite a bit of time in the bookshop, and asked various adults about something that was concerning him greatly. Apparently ‘underage’ wizards weren’t allowed to do magic at home!

Luckily, it appeared that each wand purchased from Mr. Ollivander had a ‘Trace’ on it that would alert the Ministry of Magic about any magic performed using it to the specific spell… but it didn’t record who cast it! And that was when he realized the law was incredibly bigoted against people without magical parents because it meant full wizarding households, especially in wizarding villages, really couldn’t be detected at all. They would rely on the parents enforcing it… which was just dumb. Inversely, any magic done in a muggle neighborhood would then automatically be detected as being done by the wand!

Harry resolved to find a nice hole far away from him to leave the wand outside of Hogwarts. At least until he was in fifth year when it broke automatically. Luckily, Requip Magic was a thing. He could just bring the thing to his hand whenever he wanted!

Harry bought quite a bit from the book shop. At least several hundred Galleons’ worth. A few ‘innocent’ questions had him directed to a primer on the Mind Arts, since Harry was worried that if he could read minds, it would mean others would be able to read his mind. He also was curious about any analogous magics to ones he already knew, so he bought a book on ‘Animagi’ as well, over the shop-keeper’s protests that he was far too young for that. And he was definitely interested in enchanting and creating magical items, so he also picked up books on Arithmancy and Runes. Hopefully it would help him recreate some of Irene Belserion’s magic.

Honestly, he probably would have kept buying more books that caught his eye if it hadn’t been for Hagrid showing up with a beautiful snowy owl for him as a birthday gift. He named her Hedwig! And then he was off to Ollivander’s for his wand, which was… irritating. They spent over three bloody hours in the shop trying wand after wand after wand! The only one that even reacted was a Holly wand with a Phoenix Feather core.

In the end, a disgruntled Ollivander ended up having to make him a new wand. Normally that would have excited the Wandmaker, but apparently the wand that Harry had reacted slightly to had been an extremely good core match, so he ended up having to break the wand to extract the Phoenix Feather. He ended up with a wand made of Gaboon Ebony for the shaft, and Yew for the handle.

“Ebony favors only those with the courage to be themselves. Ebony’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to their beliefs, no matter what the external pressure to conform may be. Yew on the other hand, is a poisonous wood and has a bad reputation despite having no true dark or light leanings. It has often been found in the hands of the greatest of heroes as well as the darkest of villains. One thing is certain… Yew is never found in the hands of the timid or mediocre. Both of these woods have some of the greatest aptitude towards Transfiguration, and Ebony is excellent at combative magics.” Was what Ollivander had told him about the wand.

The cores were just as interesting. Ollivander took the Phoenix Feather from the old Holly wand while also muttering how ‘interesting’ it was that the same Phoenix had given Harry his scar. Harry wasn’t sure that interesting was the word he’d use for that. He had expected that to be it, but he’d reacted to another core as well, and so ended up with a Thunderbird Feather entwined with the other feather.

Ollivander had gone from disgruntled to excited in a real hurry.

And Harry ended up having to pay fifty damn galleons for the wand, since it ended up being a custom order and required one destroyed wand. But hey, the stick seemed to sing in his hand, which was cool. After that, he finished shopping for his supplies under Hagrid’s watchful (…kind of) eye, and then Hagrid told him he’d be taking him back to Privet Drive.

Harry had promptly sent Hagrid off and rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Like hell he was going back to the Dursleys after the day’s revelations. Instead, he spent the rest of his summer downloading books into his Archive and learning the magic in his books. He was… whelmed at best. Compared to the magic he already knew, most of the spells had seemed a little underwhelming. Incendio, for example, didn’t have even a whisper of the power of Shakkahō.

Transfiguration was much more fun for him, and he certainly excelled at it with that wand of his. That said, he was a bit disappointed that the Animagus spell was apparently incredibly limited and highly regulated. By all accounts, Magical animals could not be Animagus forms, and each person only had one form max. It was also incredibly complicated and convoluted to become one, requiring a Potion that could not be sold because its shelf life was hours at best and was described as being beyond complicated to brew. All in all, it was inferior in every way to Animal Soul, except for the fact that one didn’t need to Take Over the animal.

And the most disappointing thing was just how easy most of the spells were. With his prior knowledge and affinity with magic, he was able to get most spells on his first try. Not a single one took more than three. Harry was quite worried he would be bored to tears at Hogwarts, which dampened his enthusiasm quite a bit.

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He had been right to be worried. Upon arriving at Hogwarts, he was astounded by the sheer atmosphere of the castle. It was warm, inviting, and almost instantly felt more like home than Privet Drive ever could. Almost like a warm hug. He fell in love with the castle almost immediately, and looked forward to exploring it.

He ended up getting sorted into Gryffindor, with the Sorting Hat laughing hysterically on top of his head. It needed two more minutes to calm down afterwards before sorting the next student. And then the food had appeared, and Harry gorged himself. Everything had been just so delicious that he couldn’t help himself! Petunia’s cooking had surprisingly not been bad, but compared to this, it had been tasteless!

And then they were sent off, with warnings not to venture into the Forbidden Forest or a specific Third Floor corridor on pain of a very painful death.

Harry might have tuned out those warnings.

And even if he hadn’t, the classes the next day proved he would need some excitement or else he’d die of boredom. ‘Maybe reading that far ahead and practicing before coming was a bad idea.’ Harry thought to himself as he watched at least half of his Transfiguration class fail to change a matchstick into a needle. And then, in Charms, a quarter of the class couldn’t even manage a simple Color Changing charm. And then, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the professor stuttered so badly and stank of garlic so much that Harry had a headache before the class was even half over.

Potions had been fun though. Apparently Snape hated him for some reason. He didn’t know why. It started almost from the moment the dour man had walked into the room, with him giving a pretty good speech…followed by him ruining it at the end by calling most of his students ‘dunderheads.’ And then he’d started taking roll, and then he hit Harry’s name. “Ah, Yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, before feeling a small spike in his mind. His Occlumency immediately sprang to action, and the two had a staring contest, with Snape hiding his shock well. Harry was tempted to retaliate with a Legilimency thrust of his own, but decided to hide that ability.

Snape looked away, before taking the rest of the class in. As soon as he finished, he apparently decided it was pop quiz time. “Potter! He said suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” A fellow Gryffindor named Hermione Granger raised her hand.

“Well, those are two of the ingredients in the Draught of Living Death as well as several other easier potions like the Vitamix potion, though just those two by themselves probably wouldn’t get you anything useful.” Harry replied serenely despite having been given a sixth-year question. He hid a smirk. ‘Thank you, Archive.’ Snape almost looked like he had divided by zero. He was frozen and staring at Harry. “Professor?”

Snape looked at him with new eyes, “And where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” Again, Hermione began to fidget and almost wave her hand. Several of the rest of the class gave her strange looks.

“The stomach of a goat.” Harry replied, “They can be found in the stomachs of other ruminants as well, but they’re nowhere near as potent. The Markhor produces the most potent ones followed closely by Bezoar Ibex. Kind of funny that it isn’t the other way around.”

“And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?” Snape was trying to hide his astonishment. Parvati Patil had to actually grab Hermione, who was looking very put out, and force her to sit down because she actually stood trying to get Snape’s attention.

“Same thing. Also called Aconite.” Harry said, not providing any sort of extra commentary for that one as there wasn’t actually much more to say.

“Impressive.” Snape oh so badly wanted to despise the son of James Potter, but at that very moment, as he stared into Harry’s eyes, all he could see was Lily. “Take fifteen points.” Those words felt like they were killing him to say. Several Slytherin jaws dropped. He followed it up by barking at the rest of the class. “Well?! Why aren’t any of you writing that down?!” And so, the rest scrambled to follow.

The rest of the class proceeded evenly, with the potion being a simple matter for anyone who had any skill with cooking or who had attended a chemistry class to brew. Naturally, as Snape hadn’t so much as given a lecture on safety, at least three cauldrons ended up melting. Harry’s was one of the few Boil Cure potions brewed that day deemed suitable for use in the Hospital Wing, joined by Hermione’s, Daphne Greengrass’s, and the Carrow Twins’. The blonde ponce he’d met at Madam Malkin’s robe shop looked very irritated that his hadn’t passed muster.

The next few weeks passed pretty calmly, with the only real excitement being a story that Gringotts had been broken into on his birthday. Harry definitely remembered the package that Hagrid had picked up that same day, and with the huge man’s evasiveness when he asked about it, he knew that it must have been the same package the thief had been looking for. It was interesting and made him wonder if it had anything to do with the Cerberus on the third floor.

No, he had not been able to resist. He had not expected Hogwarts’s classes to be so boring. With most students seemingly both intimidated by him due to his skill with magic and also fawning over him due to his fame, he hadn’t really made any friends. He was friendly with almost everyone not wearing a green tie and even several who were, but he couldn’t quite say any of them were friends.

The first Flying lesson of the year finally interjected some excitement into his school life, because it had been wild. Neville Longbottom (Poor kid with a name like that…) had been so terrified of his own broom that he’d flown straight into the air, completely out of control. He wasn’t sure why Madam Hooch hadn’t flown up after him or grabbed her wand, but the result had been predictable because of it. Neville looked down, practically fainted, and fell off the broom. Harry’s own wand snapped into his hand, and he spongified the ground for a softer landing. Neville landed awkwardly despite his safe bounce, and his own weight still ended up crushing his wrist due to falling on it.

‘Is she an idiot?’ Harry couldn’t help but wonder as Hooch left them all without a bit of supervision to bring Neville to the Hospital Wing.

He was right to be worried, seeing as Malfoy started to laugh and make fun of Neville. What followed was Harry proving he was a bird even without wings, and pushing his rickety school broom far past its regular limits using his own magic to strengthen it. The astonished Malfoy predictably cowered and threw Neville’s Remembrall to get Harry away from him, and Harry caught it almost effortlessly.

And then Professor McGonagall decided he was Gryffindor’s new Seeker. Harry loved flying and found the game fun, even if the crappy broom made it less so. The Nimbus 2000 Professor McGonagall got for him turned it into a dream despite the fact that it wasn’t quite fast enough or nimble enough for him. Harry eagerly studied the broom and the enchantments on it whenever he had some free time. He found his first passion project. He was going to make his own damn broom at some point!

Malfoy made himself a nuisance soon after, challenging Harry to a duel. A quick scan of his surface thoughts revealed his ‘clever plan’ of alerting Filch so that the man would catch Harry out of bounds. Ron jumped in and accepted for him before he could tell Malfoy to fuck off, which pissed Harry right off. His roommates were barely acquaintances even more than a month into the year, though Ron had been trying to be his best mate for all of it. Harry didn’t really appreciate it when he pulled shit like this.

Harry didn’t even bother getting out of bed, much to Ron’s consternation. “Come on, Harry! We have to show Malfoy who’s boss!”

“Feel free.” Harry said, not taking his eyes off his book. “Of course, you’ll have to challenge him officially if you want to do that, seeing as the ponce isn’t planning on meeting us at all.”

“You don’t know that!” He yelped, not knowing Harry had just used a wee bit of Legilimency.

“I do, actually.” Harry said, but refused to elaborate.

The dumbass then decided to sneak out on his own… and the next morning, Gryffindor was down thirty points and Ron had detention for two weeks. He couldn’t even meet Harry’s eye after that, and the entire house glared at him for over a month.

After that, Harry actually got a bit closer to Neville once he returned the Remembrall. The poor kid was just so nervous and seemed to lack any talent for actual magic. He was always one of the final kids in the class to figure out most spells, despite his form being quite good. His pronunciations weren’t off either. It was confusing to Harry, and so he paid a bit closer attention during their class with the Levitation Spell. “Nev.” He said, his eyes narrowed, “Are you not taking care of your wand? It looks kind of beat up.”

Neville stuttered, “Uh… no, I polished it a f-few weeks ago.” His face fell, “It’s just a b-bit old and s-sat for a few years. I-It was my d-dad’s.”

Harry facepalmed, “Neville, I took three bloody hours in Ollivander’s shop just to try the wands he already had, and I still ended up needing to have my wand custom made. You can’t use someone else’s wand and expect good results.”

Neville stared at him in astonishment, and Professor Flitwick chimed in. He had come over to see why they weren’t practicing and overheard the conversation, “Do you mean to tell me your grandmother didn’t take you to Ollivander’s, Mr. Longbottom?”

Neville’s entire face was red as the class watched, “N-No, professor. She s-said I should be h-honored to use m-my dad’s wand.”

“That fool woman.” Flitwick grumbled under his breath, “You’ll follow me after class to Minerva’s office. We’ll get you a proper wand, Mr. Longbottom. Don’t you worry. Now Mr. Potter?” He raised his eyebrow as he looked at Harry, who snapped his fingers and the feather rose. “Take ten points! Your talent always dazzles!” He yelped in excitement, much to the grumbles of some of the other students.

He watched in amusement as Seamus completely messed up both the motions with his wand as well as the pronunciation. ‘3…2…1…’ And as predicted, the feather blew up in a small fireball that singed his eyebrows. Harry smirked and looked away again, where Hermione was trying to help Ron Weasley.

The redhead apparently didn’t appreciate her enunciation, because he ordered her to do it instead ‘if she was so smart.’ He flushed to the tips of his ears when Hermione casually performed the spell with ease. Once done, she turned and smiled at Harry, and he ‘tipped his hat’ at her. He went off to help some of the other students now that the show was over, though Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot might have been too busy staring at him dreamily to get it right.

As they were leaving the class, he overheard Ron loudly proclaiming that Hermione was, “A nightmare, honestly. No wonder she doesn’t have any friends.” To Seamus.

And then Hermione ran past him, her head down. Harry sighed, “You’re a right arse, Weasley.” He said as he passed by as well, “Perhaps find some bloody talent before running your mouth. At least she doesn’t take her gift for granted.” He didn’t listen to Ron’s angry explosion as he walked off. Ron attempted to chase him, so Harry rolled his eyes, turned a corner, and disappeared with Shunpo.

Later that evening, Harry noticed during the Halloween feast that Hermione wasn’t there. He overheard Lavender and Parvati saying that she was still crying from Ron’s comments earlier. He felt bad for the girl, but there wasn’t much he could do. Unfortunately, Ron did have a point that she didn’t have any friends. She was way too bossy and always seemed like she was smashing people over the head with knowledge.

Still, he resolved to grab her some food so that she at least wouldn’t go to bed starving. As he was talking with Neville about his upcoming trip to Diagon Alley that weekend, Professor Quirrell ran into the Hall. “TROOOOOOLLLLL! IN THE DUNGEON! THERE’S A TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!” He stopped in the middle of the tables, “…Thought you ought to know…” he whimpered, before flopping forward, unconscious.

As the rest of the school began to panic, Harry stared at Quirrell with narrowed eyes. ‘Isn’t he the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? A single troll should be simple for someone who holds that post. And where was his stutter?’ As Dumbledore sent them off to their dormitories, Harry rolled his eyes, ‘Aren’t the Slytherin Dormitories in the dungeons?’

He walked swiftly and caught up with Lavender and Parvati, “Which bathroom is Hermione in?”

Parvati’s eyes widened, “Oh crap, she doesn’t know!”

Lavender gasped, “The second floor one on the east side. We need to find a professor!”

Harry shook his head, “I’ll go get her. Just head to the tower.” He said and walked off swiftly. Neville and the two girls snuck off after him, but their eyes widened when they turned the corner and saw no one there.

“How the hell?!” Lavender gaped, “Where did he go?”

Parvati swallowed, “Let’s catch up with the others. We’re going to get in trouble.”

…

Harry arrived at the bathrooms and knocked. “GO AWAY!” Hermione cried out, her voice sounding rough.

Harry slammed the door open, “Hermione, we’ve got to go!”

“This is a girl’s bathroom!” She protested, opening the stall door, and glaring at him.

“And there’s a bloody troll in the castle! Quirrell found it in the dungeons.” Harry said, making her jaw drop, “We have to go! I came to get you since you didn’t know.”

She teared up, “T-Thank you.” She choked out the words, “Let’s g-go…”

She followed him out, and both recoiled, “Ugh, what’s that smell?” He complained, holding his nose.

And then they turned the corner, and Hermione froze. The troll was there. Big, grey, and ugly, it immediately caught sight of them and roared. Hermione screamed as she backpedaled. Its heavily textured hide looked almost like concrete or cracked rock. It slammed its club onto the floor and started to advance.

“Stay behind me!” Harry commanded, before glaring at it, “Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself with horror and tear out your own throat! Bakudō #9. Hōrin!” He chanted out, and cast his arm out. An orange-tinged yellow tendril snaked out, crackling like lightning, before wrapping around the troll’s legs. The beast tripped and slammed face-first into the stone. Its club flew out of its hand and at Harry, who caught it with a levitation charm with his other hand and waved it away. The troll roared furiously and strained against the ropes, shattering them as it tried to climb to its feet. Harry clicked his teeth as he realized the beast was too strong for a basic Kidō to contain, and he still hadn’t gotten Rikujōkōrō to work.

Nothing for it then. He pointed his index finger at its gaping maw, “Hadō #4: Byakurai!” He called out, and then a brilliant bolt of white lightning shot from his fingertip. The lightning pierced right through the troll’s mouth, tongue, and then out the back of its head. It wavered for a moment before it collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

Hermione stared at it in abject shock, “I-Is it dead?”

Harry sighed as he lowered his hand. “Yes.” He looked at the dumb creature in pity.

And then the thudding of three feet made themselves known, and Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrell turned the corner. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper as he leaned against a wall, and then slid down, clutching his heart. Snape was hobbling slightly as he walked to the troll, before bending over to examine it. His eyes were wide as he stared at the corpse. McGonagall looked apoplectic, “What on earth were you thinking?!” She hissed, cold fury in her voice, “You’re lucky you weren’t killed! Why didn’t you go to your dormitory?!”

“Sorry professor, but you all vanished before I could get your attention.” Harry said, “Hermione wasn’t at the feast. I came to grab her and make sure she didn’t run into it.” He looked down at the troll, “…Looks like I did a bang-up job.” He tried to joke.

Minerva’s nose flared, though her gaze had softened. “And why weren’t you at the feast, Miss Granger?”

“I…” Hermione said softly, looking down at her feet.

Harry, seeing Hermione wasn’t going to say anything, pursed his lips. “Several other students were making fun of her. She wanted to be alone.”

Minerva’s face hardened once more. “Is this true, Miss Granger?” Hermione looked up, and her lower lip trembled, before she nodded, looking at her feet again. “I will have to have a stern talking to-”

“It’ll just make this worse, Professor.” Hermione’s voice trembled as she cut the deputy headmistress off. “…I’m… used to it.” She said, sadness infusing her tone. “I just… I thought Hogwarts would be different.”

“I see.” Minerva looked like she wasn’t going to take any heed at all to Hermione’s words.

Snape spoke for the first time, “How did you even do this?” He wasn’t quite glaring, but he had a hard look on his face. “How did a first-year student kill a fully grown Cave Troll?”

“Its mouth isn’t armored.” Harry shrugged, “Going for the weak point is Defense 101, isn’t it?” The muggle saying went over McGonagall and Quirrell’s heads, though not Snape’s.

“B-But what spell did y-you use?” Quirrell had managed to find his feet and asked the next question.

Harry couldn’t help but feel he looked remarkably spry for someone who had been unconscious minutes before. “Lightning spell I made.”

“That you made?” McGonagall’s eyes went wide. Harry nodded, and there was silence for a moment. “Very well.” She sounded tired, “Fifty points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for saving your classmate. I suggest you both make your way to your dormitory.”

Harry and Hermione nodded, and raced off. After a few moments of silence as they walked up the stairs, Hermione shyly tugged on his sleeve. “I… didn’t say thank you.” She smiled weakly at him, “Thank you for saving me, Harry.”

He smiled back, “Not a problem, Hermione. I wasn’t about to let you get hurt.”

“Can… can I ask a question?”

Harry snickered, “You just did.”

She smiled, but rolled her eyes, “I… you’re… so much better than me in classes. Smarter too. Why… why does everyone…”

“Like me and not you?” He raised an eyebrow, and she flinched. After a moment, she nodded, looking down at the stairwell. “It’s your approach.” He said, getting her to look at him in confusion. “You’re smart. You know it, I know it, shit, Weasley’s rat knows it.” She snorted, “And that’s the problem. You go way overboard with it. Not in what you know, but in how you present it. You just need to calm your ass down a bit.” She flushed at the language, “When you help people, it’s more like you’re bludgeoning them with your knowledge. Like you’re trying to boss them around. You’re just earnestly trying to help, but it makes you come off as condescending.” She flinched again, and teared up. Harry didn’t let up. “And most of the time, you just regurgitate what’s in the books. That works for you, but if it worked for everyone, they wouldn’t need help. And then there’s the fact you try to answer every single question every time a professor asks one. Our first Potions class, you stood up waving your hand trying to get Snape’s attention when it was patently obvious he had been trying to embarrass me for… some reason-” He still wasn’t sure why that was. “-and wasn’t at all interested in calling on someone else.”

“I… is it wrong to want to do my best?” Hermione asked tearfully.

“Not in the slightest.” Harry raised an eyebrow, “I knew every bloody first-year spell and could cast them well before I even got on the train. Frankly, I think a good half of our classmates are morons. Imagine having magic and taking it for granted.”

She sputtered for a moment, “You shouldn’t be mean!” She paused, “…Even if you have a point. I just don’t get how some of them are so lazy… It’s magic!” She muttered.

Harry chuckled, “See, we’re not that different, Hermione. We both want to be the best. You just need to chill out and relax. If someone wants help, give it. Try to explain the material better than the text. And if they don’t, bloody well leave them alone. Some people just don’t want help.”

Hermione stayed still for a moment, thinking about how the Charms class had gone earlier that day. She had finished her work quickly, and then just as quickly rounded on Ron and started to correct his pronunciation. She huffed, “I… guess you have a point. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink…”

“Exactly.” Harry chuckled, making her smile weakly, “And give the other students a chance to answer questions and earn points, would you? You earn far more of them than me, incidents like tonight notwithstanding. If I raised my hand for every question, I’d have just as many as you.” He patted her on the shoulder and started to walk up again.

“Why don’t you?” She asked curiously as she followed.

“Because I think the whole thing is stupid.” Harry snorted at her scandalized look, “We get a bloody banner for one night the entire year if we win. Hurrayyyyy.” He said drolly as they continued to climb, their voices fading.

…

The next day, the first-years were surprised to see the two of them sitting together, and even more surprised when Hermione just kept to herself. She was far more interested in how Harry had made his own spell, and was astonished to hear the truth. She had almost lost her mind at the revelation that he’d been recreating magic seen in muggle fantasy for years. Everything she had read just made it not compute. And that was really what made her start to think for herself, rather than relying on books to tell her what to think.

After a few weeks of that, Hermione was even happy to realize that her fellow first-year girls had started opening up and including her. She found that they didn’t really have much in common when it came to what the other girls chatted about, but was happy to be included, nonetheless. Their grades all improved as well, with Hermione slowly learning to be much gentler with her tutoring.

The first Quidditch match rolled around, and it was as fun as Harry had thought it would be. At least it had been, up until his broom started to freak out beneath his legs. Harry had been bucked around incessantly for several seconds as he tried to figure out what was going on. Eventually, he sensed the magic cast on his broom, and lashed out with his own magic to take control of it again. Things calmed down for a while, but the culprit tried several more times to curse his broom during the match, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source despite the numerous attempts. At least he got better at severing the jinx’s connection. Eventually, he did end up catching the Snitch to win the match, but was wary that someone was trying to hurt him. It obviously soured the day for him.

Hermione thought that it was Snape. She had grabbed Hagrid’s binoculars and looked over at the man, watching as he stared unblinkingly at Harry while muttering under his breath. Harry had seized control back before she could run off and execute her plan, so she had kept a close eye on him afterwards.  

Hagrid thought it was nonsense, but Neville agreed with Hermione. It did meet all the criteria of a jinx. Harry actually was more on Hagrid’s side of things, as he knew Snape was grudgingly impressed with him. It didn’t really fit in his opinion. Hermione was very put out, but the conversation ended up in a different direction when Harry mentioned that Snape had been limping since Halloween and had probably been hurt by ‘Fluffy,’ shocking both the big man and his two friends.

Harry had been quite amused that the teachers seemed to think no one would visit the corridor. They might as well have been waving a red flag in front of a bull. Hagrid had looked constipated when Harry told him rather drolly that if they wanted students to avoid the hall, they should have just said that there was ongoing construction or that there was a magically resistant mess in the hall that smelled awful.

Honestly, Harry hadn’t even been trying to get any information out of Hagrid when the man just blurted out about Nicholas Flamel. A hesitant bit of Legilimency told Harry everything he needed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone that was hidden inside the castle. He was utterly dumbfounded. Of course, he couldn’t let on that he knew because then he’d need to explain his mind reading, so he ‘helped’ his friends try to find information on Flamel for the next several weeks.

Christmas came and went, with Harry getting an Invisibility Cloak from an anonymous sender. He had cackled for several minutes upon discovering what it was, and promptly made sure it worked with Requip. The rest of the holidays, he spent exploring parts of the castle that he hadn’t had a chance to yet. He ended up finding the kitchens, which was awesome, and learned about the House Elves that inhabited it. He also found several more hidden passages that allowed him to travel around the school more quickly. He was quite put out when he stepped into a portrait on the seventh floor and ended up in the dungeons. That had been awesome. But when he’d tried going the other way, all he found was a broom closet. He grumbled all the way back up.

But the biggest gift the Cloak had given him was the ability to access the entire library. The unfortunate part of Archive was that it was incredibly obvious when it was being used, and each scan took at least a bit of time. It was why he had to buy his books back at Diagon Alley rather than just downloading the whole store. A few hours each night was a small price to pay to feed his growing hoard of knowledge.

Once classes picked back up, so did Quidditch training, and Gryffindor was horrified to find Snape was going to be the referee for their second match. Neville and Hermione both tried to get him to refuse to play, but Harry just looked at them dully and asked if they really thought Snape was going to try to hurt him in plain view of hundreds of people. They both understood the reasoning, but were mulishly stubborn. Harry ended up ‘finding’ Flamel on the back of a Dumbledore Chocolate Frog to draw their attention away.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Harry easily won their next Quidditch match, having found the Snitch very early into the game. Malfoy had gotten into a fistfight with Ron, and Harry was a bit sad about having missed that, since his focus had been on the game. The celebration with his teammates and the rest of the Gryffindors had been epic.

And then reality set in as Hermione realized exams were ten weeks away and relapsed. Harry had to sit on her pretty hard to keep her from wasting all of her progress with making friends with her dormmates. Thankfully, Hagrid being an utter idiot (a lovable fool, but a fool nonetheless) and hatching a damned dragon egg in his wooden hut took their attention. Harry so wanted to try to use Take Over on it, but wasn’t sure if he’d be stuck as a baby dragon afterwards.

So, the trio ended up having to enlist the help of Gred and Forge Weasley. Harry was friends with the two Beaters, and thus knew that one of their older brothers worked at a dragon preserve in Romania. Of course, that meant telling the two notorious pranksters about the dragon, but they were immediately interested in helping. They were able to get in contact with Charlie Weasley to get the little dragon away from the castle, but George ended up getting bitten by it.

And of course, that ponce Malfoy found out. It was like the brat had nothing better to do than stalk Harry and his friends to try to get them into trouble. Merlin knew the Slytherin would never be caught dead going to Hagrid’s hut otherwise. With the issues, Harry thought it would be best if he delivered Norberta alone, so Neville and Hermione stayed behind. Fred would have tried to join them, but ended up having detention himself. Malfoy tried to get them into trouble by going to Professor McGonagall, and Harry just bit back snickers as he watched the brat get dragged away by the ear.

Charlie’s friends were a cheery lot, and Harry thought one of them (another redhead) was pretty cute. The older girl had a bit of fun teasing him over his blush, and the group allowed him to help tie Norberta’s crate to the safety harness they had suspended between the brooms. Afterwards, she’d given him a teasing kiss on the cheek before they all flew off. And Harry, still reeling, went and forgot the Cloak like an utter imbecile. Filch caught him right at the foot of the stairs.

He could have just Requipped the Cloak and tried to run, but that would have let Filch (and whoever he told!) know he had it. Harry wanted to punch himself as he sat in McGonagall’s office and got lambasted. The Gryffindor head took fifty points from him and gave him detention on top of it. While Harry didn’t give a single fuck about the points, he thought it was pretty annoying that she took fifty from him and only twenty from Malfoy. And his housemates would be pissed that he lost them the lead.

At least she didn’t ban him from Quidditch. Now that would have been awful. Too awful, he suspected, for the Quidditch buff.

The weeks went by, with most of his housemates who didn’t know the full story giving him the evil eye. He was glad that he at least had been able to keep Neville and Hermione out of it because it would have been a hundred and fifty points otherwise. Then he’d probably be in the shit with not just the other Gryffindors but the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as well. Stupid house rivalry.

And then, just when Harry thought Professor McGonagall had forgotten, he was told he would serve his detention out of the blue one Thursday night. “A detention at eleven at night? Oh suuuure.” He rolled his eyes. As if that was any better than wandering the halls. But he went without further complaint… and then increasing glee when they were told that he and Malfoy would be heading into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. He had to bite back a laugh when Malfoy nearly pissed himself.

And then Hagrid revealed the details to them, and Harry’s amusement vanished. “Something is hurting unicorns?!” He repeated in shock.

“Not jus’ one either.” Hagrid said grimly, “We’ll have ta search the forest.”

“What bloody good are we though?” Malfoy complained, “This isn’t something for first-years to be doing! What, are we expected to split up like a bunch of morons? If something in there can catch a unicorn it can definitely catch us!”

“Naw, there aren’t enough of us.” Hagrid said, “I jus’ need extra eyeballs. Maybe you’ll spot summat I’d miss.”

“I’ll be fine by myself, Hagrid.” Harry said. “You three can go off.”

Malfoy scoffed, “Typical Scarhead.” He glared at Harry. “Bravado will get you nowhere.”

“I’m sorry, of the two of us, which has killed a troll with one spell?” Harry asked rhetorically, and Malfoy flushed.

Hagrid interrupted them, “Yeh’ve got a poin’, Harry. Yeh can take Fang with yeh.”

“I’ll be faster on my own.” Harry shook his head, “If I find something I can just send up sparks. Green for the unicorn, red for trouble.”

“Yeh’re sure?” Hagrid asked seriously, “Alrigh’, but be careful.”

“You got it.” Harry cracked his neck a little, did a few stretches, and then vanished.

“What?!” Malfoy blurted, “Did he just Apparate?!”

“Nah, tha’s impossible! Yeh can’ Apparate in Hogwarts without Professor Dumbledore’s permission!” Hagrid’s eyes were impossibly wide.

…

The forest blurred around him as Harry’s sharp eyes kept tracking every little glint that his Lumos spell was reflecting. The unicorn was impossibly fast. Slower than his Shunpo, sure, but it was an animal that few creatures would be able to hunt. There were dozens of meters between every droplet of blood to showcase its sheer speed. It also switched directions a number of times, and Harry needed all of his concentration not to lose the trail. He even had to backtrack a few times.

But they were becoming more frequent, so Harry reasoned he was on the right track. He frowned when he saw the blood droplets coming only feet apart after quite a long distance. He must have been at least a couple kilometers into the forest by this point. ‘Where are you? What’s hurt you so bad?’

He broke into a clearing, and bit back a gasp as he saw the majestic beast laying on its side, breathing weakly. Its legs were kicking weakly. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, nor so sad. It probably had minutes to live, at best. He extinguished his wand and raised it to shoot up the green sparks, but then a noise hit his ears and he dropped to a crouch. It sounded almost like slithering, or like a cloak dragging along the ground.

He watched as a bush quivered, and then what seemed to be a living robe crawled along the ground like some sort of beast. If it wasn’t for the lack of any intense cold, Harry would have been terrified that it was a rogue dementor. The unicorn let out a sharp cry as the hood of the cloak descended on the wound in its side, and a loud slurp rang through the clearing.

Harry’s blood boiled. It was drinking the unicorn’s blood! Without even thinking of calling for help, Harry sprang up from his hiding spot and raised his finger. “Hadō #4: Byakurai!” He roared. The creature had immediately reacted, but had been caught totally off guard.

Byakurai was one of his fastest spells. Before the creature had been able to complete even a full turn, the lightning pierced through one of its shoulders. An unearthly screech rang through the air. A screech that instantly gave Harry a headache, which he was too distracted to realize was localized through his scar.

The creature was hurt and obviously furious, and it charged at him. Clearly he needed to bring out the big guns. “Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring.” Harry chanted the incantation for the most powerful spell he’d been able to get working. He seemed to have a really good affinity for lightning spells, because for the other types he had barely managed a single one in the forties.

The cloak was on him before he could finish, but luckily Kidō chants could be paused. Harry vanished with Shunpo, and the cloak let out an enraged shriek. “Move and become the wind! Stop, and become the calm! The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle!” Harry reappeared far to the right of the unicorn, and when the cloak came after him, he did it again, and again, stopping right before the hurt unicorn as he finished the final words. “Hadō #63: Raikōhō!” He roared as the lightning crackled in his hand, before firing out like an actual big bolt of lightning.

The cloak seemed almost to slide to a stop as it tried to dodge backwards. Harry’s spell hit the ground instead and exploded in a huge detonation. A large pillar of yellow light burst into the sky, illuminating the rest of the forest, and drawing the attention of every creature within. Most ran away from it. A bare few ran towards it. As the pillar died out and the smoke cleared, a massive crater that was at least twenty-five meters wide was revealed, with many trees toppled nearby.

And the cloak apparently decided discretion was the better part of valor. Its cloak had been heavily torn, and its body crackled with lightning as it turned and fled. Which was perfect because Harry slumped to his knees in exhaustion. If that thing had decided to fight he would have been screwed. ‘Still not strong enough for a level sixty spell…’ He thought to himself as he breathed heavily.

He turned to the unicorn, “Sorry I wasn’t quick enough.” He tried to comfort the creature during its last moments. It let out a weak neigh, its eyes watery and foggy. “I can’t save you…” Harry said, his own tears falling, “But I can give you a new lease on life. What do you say?” He smiled as he ran his fingers through the unicorn’s mane. It seemed intelligent enough, and it used most of the last of its energy to lift its head and nudge him with its nose. It seemed to agree. Harry smiled weakly, “I’m sorry. TAKE OVER!” He cried out, and a bright light engulfed them.

When it died down, the unicorn was completely gone, leaving only Harry and a puddle of blood. And then hooves clopped as a centaur entered the clearing. “What have you done?” He gasped as he had seen the last moments of the unicorn.

Harry staggered to his feet and looked at the centaur. “The only thing I could do to save a small piece of her.”

The centaur stared at him for a moment, “I sense no malice in you, Harry Potter. And yet the planets told me nothing about this.”

Harry smiled thinly, “What did they tell you then, I wonder?”

“… That Mars was bright.” He said softly. “I am Firenze.” He declared after a moment of silence.

Harry nodded, “And you know my name. Thanks for coming, Firenze.” Harry wavered for a moment, still tired. “Will war be coming?”

“War?” Firenze asked sharply.

“Mars is the Roman God of War.” Harry said, his eyes drooping, “If Mars being bright has even close to the same meaning…”

“Conflict will approach.” Firenze agreed, “Come, I must get you back to Hagrid.” The centaur allowed Harry to mount him, “Do you know what unicorn blood is used for, Harry Potter?”

“No.” Harry let out a tired sigh, “We’ve only used the tail hair and horn in Potions.”

“That is because it is a truly monstrous thing to slay a unicorn. Only one who had nothing to lose and everything to gain would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death, at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and thus would have a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips.”

Harry felt cold as he stared at the back of Firenze’s head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight. “But who would be that desperate?! If you’re going to be cursed forever, isn’t death preferable?”

“Of course.” Firenze agreed, “Unless, of course, all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else. Something that will bring you back to full strength and power. Something that will grant you life eternal. You know of what I speak.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone.” Harry said, his body tightening up. “But who?!”

“Can you truly think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power? Who has clung desperately to life, awaiting their moment?” Firenze asked softly.

“Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” Hagrid’s words from so many months ago rang in his ears. A fire erupted in his chest as all the exhaustion was seemingly chased from his body.

“Voldemort.” He hissed out. All of a sudden, the Philosopher’s Stone had turned from an idle curiosity to his number one priority.

…

Neville and Hermione had been terrified when he’d told them what he had learned. The two were still convinced that Snape was the one who had tried to kill him during his first Quidditch game. That immediately devolved into both of them assuming Snape was trying to steal the stone for his master. Harry almost regretted telling them anything up until Hermione mentioned that the only one Voldemort ever feared was Dumbledore.

Exams the following week were pretty annoying. He could have been done with all of them in like three hours max if it wasn’t for all the tedious writing he needed to do for all the theoretical exams. He’d gotten extra points in basically all the practical stuff.

His scar was hurting almost all throughout the exams, though thankfully it was just an annoying twinge. He was glad he had learned Occlumency as it helped quite a bit. As they wrapped up their History exams, he grumbled that the aching was getting a bit worse. It almost felt like something was beating on his occluded mind, though weakly. The constant annoyance was driving him batty.

Hermione didn’t seem to think it was a big deal, and Neville, assuming he was stressed about the Stone, told him not to worry, reminding him again that the Stone would be safe as long as Dumbledore was around, and that Snape still hadn’t found a way around Fluffy. Honestly, at this point, Harry was wondering if Neville was trying to manifest something.

And then Hermione said something that made Harry stiffen almost completely. “Stay here.” He ordered them, and he vanished. It took him seconds to reach Hagrid’s hut, and he banged on the door until Hagrid opened it. “Wha’ is it, Harry? Weren’t you at the exams?”

“Hagrid, the night you won Norberta’s egg, what did the stranger you played cards with look like?” Harry asked him.

“Dunno,” said Hagrid casually, “He wouldn' take his cloak off.” Harry’s jaw lowered, and Hagrid raised a bushy eyebrow. “It's not that unusual. Yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog's Head. Tha’s the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ Harry growled to himself. “What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?”

“Mighta come up,” said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah... he asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here. He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after, so I told him. Told ‘im what I’d always really wanted was a dragon… an’ then… I can’ remember too well, ‘cause he kept buyin’ me drinks… Let’s see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted… He jus’ had ter be sure I could handle it. He didn’ want it ter go ter any old home.... So, I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy...”

“And how interested was he in Fluffy?”

“Well, how many three-headed dogs d’yeh meet, even ‘round a place like Hogwarts? Told him Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how ter calm him down. Just play him a bit o’ music and he’ll fall straight ter sle-”  Hagrid cut himself off, looking horrified. “Wait, I shouldn’ta told yeh tha-n Where’re yeh goin’, Harry? Harry?!”

Harry ran out of the hut and vanished, reappearing next to his friends. Neville nearly jumped out of his skin and Hermione shrieked. “Don’t DO that, Harry!”

“He fucking knows.” Harry growled.

“What?” Neville shook his head, “Huh?”

“Hagrid! That bloody dragon egg! The stranger he won the egg off got him drunk and managed to get Hagrid to blurt out that music will put Fluffy straight to sleep!” Harry snarled, and the two paled almost to the color of milk.

“We have to tell Dumbledore.” Hermione quailed.

“Right. Do not mention that you think it’s Snape. Just say you think it’s a thief! It’ll be more believable if it isn’t someone they trust.”

What followed was almost a slapstick comedy except absolutely no one would have laughed at the punchline. First, they ran into Professor McGonagall, who informed them that the headmaster had been called away to the Ministry. Harry wasn’t sure why he flew rather than Apparate, but that’s what she told them. So, then they tried to tell her about the danger, and she promptly ignored their concerns because ‘It WaS tOO weLl PrOtEcTed.’

But she was apparently smart enough to check the Third-Floor corridor to catch them watching it, and promptly lost her temper. “I suppose you think you’re harder to get past than a pack of expertly crafted enchantments! Enough of this nonsense! Go to your dormitories now, lest I take another fifty points! Each!”

Honestly, Harry was old enough to know she had a point. At the same time, he had made the shadow flee with his Raikōhō, so she was underestimating him. Really, there was only one thing for him to do, and his friends panicked when he told them he was going down that trapdoor. When they tried to protest, Harry reminded them of just who Voldemort was and what he had cost him. He would not be dissuaded.

And so, they went down the trapdoor themselves. With the knowledge Hagrid had given him, Fluffy was easily handled. When they landed on what felt like rubbery ropes, Neville almost panicked. “DEVIL’S SNARE!” The plant started crawling over them, “Fire! Light! Anything!” His hands were already bound, as were Harry’s and Hermione’s.

Harry yelled, “Hadō #31: Shakkahō!” And a bright blast of red light and fire erupted underneath him. The plant couldn’t make noise, and yet he could still hear it shriek as it crawled away from him. He snapped his wand out, “Lumos Solem!” The entire plant writhed as it released Neville and Hermione.

“Thanks!” Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she got up.

The next room proved to be much less dangerous, with nothing more than keys flying around. Harry’s eyes immediately caught the key with the bent wing, and he entirely ignored the brooms. ‘Why the hell would you keep the right key in the room?’ He wondered as he flashed forward and up and grabbed the key, unknowingly bypassing the defense entirely since he never touched the brooms. He landed at the other side of the room and stuck the key into the door, opening it easily. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He waited for his friends to catch up.

And as they entered the next room, they watched as it lit up and revealed a giant chessboard. “Is this a fucking stronghold meant to protect the Stone or a fucking obstacle course?!” He growled out. He really wished he had more power available to him, but he couldn’t afford to waste magic and exhaust himself before the end. Otherwise, he would just blow this entire chessboard with his Raikōhō.

Hermione frowned, “…Wondering that myself now. Maybe it’s just meant to delay?”

“Right, so that Dumbledore can get here?” Neville wondered, “…Anyone good at chess?”

“Maybe we should go back and grab Ron.” Harry snarked. “It doesn’t just want us to play. It wants us to take up spots as pieces.” He took the place of a Queen, Hermione mounted a Knight, looking pale, and Neville ended up replacing a Rook. “Hermione… all you.”

She bit her lip, and began making moves. Of all the things for her to not be better than Ronald Weasley at! The game rapidly proved itself dangerous, with their first lost piece being annihilated by the other side’s pieces. Hermione rapidly proved herself deficient at tactics because they were losing far more pieces than the other side. It was also taking forever to play through the game. And then they got to the point where they were trapped. No matter what move they made, one of them was going to be taken out next. And that meant Harry was going to have to do what he didn’t want to do.

He vanished and grabbed both Neville and Hermione, dragging them away from the board before the pieces could react. But they all reacted, including their own pieces. “Hadō #63: Raikōhō!” He yelled out, purposefully leaving out the chant so that it would be weaker. He just hoped it wasn’t too weak.

The resulting explosion shook the room, and left a gaping crater in the chess set, but didn’t manage to destroy everything. “Shit!” Harry yelled as a knight charged at him, raising a lance.

“Glacius!” Neville roared, wiggling his wand in an awkward motion. A blast of freezing cold air hit the ground, and instantly created a thin layer of ice. The stone Knight immediately slipped and crashed into the ground. The impact was jarring enough for it to crumble. Harry was really glad he and his friends could read ahead with Archive, and that Neville became super interested in magic once he found he was actually quite good at it.

Hermione also proved it, “Confringo!” She yelled, blasting the formerly friendly King to bits.

She and Neville tag-teamed the final one. The enemy Queen was charging, and the two alternated with ‘Flipendo’ jinxes that kept pushing the piece back, up until it fell into the hole and impacted hard enough to crumble.

They all put their hands on their knees as they breathed hard. “Why didn’t we lead with that?” Neville grumbled.

“Because then my Raikōhō might not have gotten as many of them.” Harry straightened up and started to run forward.

“Couldn’t you have just used the incantation?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I don’t want to exhaust myself.” Harry said irritably. “What good will that do when we meet the thief?” He opened the door, and they all recoiled, “Ugh!” He glared at the beast on the floor, “Merlin damned trolls!” He covered his nose. “I can taste it…”

They hurried past the troll, and into the next room. Seven bottles were on the table, as well as a riddle letting them know there was one bottle to go forward, one to go backwards, two bottles of nettle wine, and three poisons. “Okay but why don’t you make them all poison?!” He asked in frustration. “This is the Philosopher’s Stone here! Why can a bunch of first years get by this?! Why was Fluffy the only actually dangerous thing in here?!” As he ranted, Hermione worked her way through the riddle. It only took her a few minutes, and then she pointed everything out. Harry rolled his eyes, “Obviously the smallest bottle would be the one to go forward. Who would have guessed that?” He snatched it, “You two go back. Grab the brooms from the flying key room and get the hell to the Owlery. Use Hedwig to let Dumbledore know.”

“But what if You-Know-Who is there with Snape?” Neville protested.

“Then I’m doing my damnedest to hit him with Number 88.” Harry grinned, though it was full of bravado. He didn’t think he had a chance to pull that one off. Not even if it was a lightning spell. “If I manage even a decent one it will blow the entire room to hell.”

Hermione must have sensed it because she threw her arms around him, “Stay safe, Harry!” She demanded of him as she squeezed before Neville did the same. The two drank the potion, and there was barely enough for the both of them, before they ran through the purple flames blocking the way back.

Harry downed the small bottle and drained it in one gulp. It felt like ice flooding his body, and he walked forward, through the flames. As he stepped into the final chamber, his eyes bulged, “Quirrell?!” He asked incredulously.

“Surprised, Potter?” The man in the turban asked.

Harry growled, “Honestly, I shouldn’t be. Your act slipped a few times. Neville and Hermione were so sure that it was Snape.”

Quirrell chuckled darkly, “Ah yes, they had such amusing thoughts.” He said, revealing that he’d been reading his friends’ minds. “Of course, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?”

‘Shit, why didn’t I start them on Occlumency?’ Harry ground his teeth. “You knew?!”

“Of course, I did.” Quirrell scoffed. “It was quite amusing. I imagine old Severus got quite a kick out of that. He’s a far more skilled Legilimens than I am. Though I doubt even he managed to get through those thick defenses of yours.” Quirrell was still smiling, and Harry almost tripped at the revelation. “Of course, it got me what I wanted, so I did nothing. After all, you stand before me now, with no one to help you.” He lazily flicked his wand, which hadn’t been in his hand a moment ago, and ropes sprang out of thin air. They wrapped tightly around Harry, “Honestly, I think after I kill you I’ll pay Severus a visit.” He clutched his side with a pained groan, “If it hadn’t been for his damned counter curse I would have had you off that broom, and you wouldn’t have shot that damned lightning spell at me.” Harry had robbed him of almost all of the time he’d gotten back from that unicorn blood… “It was quite impressive, I’ll admit. I think before I kill you, I’ll rip out your knowledge of it. It’ll be quite the useful spell to add to my repertoire. But first, I suggest you wait quietly, little Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

Honestly, Harry had been so bamboozled he hadn’t even noticed the giant mirror. He saw an inscription above the glass. ‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi?’ He wondered to himself, ‘Is that gibberish?’ He took a moment, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out what the hell that could mean.

“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone.” Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this. Thankfully, he’s in London. I’ll be far away by the time he gets back.” He said as he idly walked around the mirror. As he came back around, he growled, staring hungrily into it. “I see the Stone. I’m presenting it to my master! But where is it?”

‘Wait, mirrors show things backwards.’ The thought ran through his mind as he watched Quirrell tap on it again with his right arm, yet on the mirror it appeared as if the left arm was the one being raised. He glanced at the inscription again, ‘ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desirE. I show not your face but your heart’s desire.’ It couldn’t be that simple. If Quirrell truly wanted to find the stone more than anything, then wouldn’t the mirror show that? It did show him that if his words were true. Harry abruptly realized that this must be the true challenge of this entire obstacle course. Everything else was just to buy time, and possibly trap the thief in here.

He listened as Quirrell continued to talk, wondering if he should break the mirror.

And then Harry’s blood went cold as a dark, raspy voice rang out from nothing, “Use the boy…”

Quirrell immediately whirled around, “Come here, Potter!” He spat Harry’s name as the ropes let Harry go. “Tell me what you see, and if you so much as try to cast a spell, I will kill you.”

Harry walked forward, wondering what his heart’s desire truly was. And as he looked within, he held back a gasp. His reflection was older, and surrounded by people who seemed to be congratulating him. A man who looked quite like him had an arm around his shoulder, while a very pretty redhead with glittering emerald eyes had an arm around his waist. All of them were smiling, as happy as could be. What appeared to be older versions of his friends, as well as several of the pretty young ladies he knew surrounded them. And literally under his right foot was the burned and demolished body of who he could instinctively feel was Voldemort.

A great warrior who was surrounded by the love he’d always missed out on, growing up. A man who had climbed the tallest mountain and crushed the challenge beneath his heel. Yeah. Yeah, he could see it. But he knew it would never happen if Voldemort got that damned stone. He needed to keep it from Quirrell at all costs. And then his older self seemed to look him directly in the eyes. He removed a blood red stone from his pocket, and winked. Harry almost lost his composure as he felt a weight settle in his pocket.

“Well?!” Quirrell spat after a few more moments. “What did you see?!”

“Your master crushed beneath my heel.” Harry spat, and Quirrell’s eyes widened madly.

“You DARE?!” He roared, before smacking Harry across the face with the back of his hand. And yet, it was Quirrell who came out the worst in the exchange. “AAAAARGH!” Harry got to his feet and gaped as Quirrell’s hand seemed to burn. It was blistering before their eyes. “What is this?!”

Harry was as confused as his enemy, but he allowed a smirk to cross his face, “Well, isn’t that something…”

“Let me speak to him.” The voice came again, and Harry’s eyes hardened.

Quirrell’s eyes widened, “Master, you are not strong enough yet!”

“I have strength enough… for this…” The voice hissed out. Quirrell obediently started to unwrap his turban.

‘Oh, you have got to be shitting me.’ Harry thought to himself in at least some dread as the turban continued to unwind. And finally, it fell away, and Harry’s entire being recoiled. He could feel the pulse of his scar accelerate with pain, and he pushed it down. There was an entire face on the back of Quirrell’s head, and he knew just who it belonged to.

“Harry Potter…” Voldemort whispered.

Harry glared, “Voldemort. You look spry for a dead man.”

“Ha, ha…” The face made a mockery of a smile, “You are brave, Harry. Not many would mock me, even as weak as I am now. You see what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor… I only have form when I can share another’s body. But there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and mind.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Harry replied blandly, “All the unicorn blood can’t have been good for your servant. Why, I imagine it wasn’t even good for you.”

“No, but it sustained me. And all I needed was for it to sustain me. Death will never hold me, after all. I have ascended past such weakness. All I need is a new body. A proper body. One which I will be able to create… using that stone in your pocket.”

“I’d blow it to pieces before handing it to you.” Harry snarled at Voldemort.

“Don’t be a fool. Better save yourself instead of wasting your parents’ sacrifice.” Quirrell took a step backwards, towards Harry, “They were brave. I killed your father first. He put up a courageous fight. Your mother needn’t have died. I offered her life if she would but step aside, yet she refused me.”

Harry’s mind raced. Why the hell would THE Blood Supremacist leader offer to let a muggleborn live if she stepped aside and let her child die? Why would a Dark Lord target a baby?

“Do not let her sacrifice be in vain, Harry. Give me that stone.” Voldemort snarled at him.

“I’d rather you die.” Harry yelled, and then he was in front of Voldemort, his hand snapping forward and slamming right onto Voldemort’s noseless face. Sizzling rang through the air as Harry gripped Quirrell’s skull tightly, and both him and his master screamed. The impact had been so jarring that Quirrell fell forward and smashed his face on the ground. The man writhed beneath him as pain overwhelmed him. But Harry didn’t get off cleanly either. His head pounded, localized in his scar, and the bloody thing split open and started gushing of its own accord. Quirrell’s skin was turning grey and looking more like burnt charcoal than human skin. And it wasn’t sticking just to his head. No, the burnt-out look was spreading down through Quirrell’s entire body as Harry kept his broken nose pressed firmly into the stone.

And then Quirrell’s seizing ceased, and his body seemed to crumble, burnt out from within. Harry rapidly backed away as the man turned to dust. “Holy shit…” He stared, wide-eyed, first at the mound of dust and then at his own hands. “How the hell…?” His eyes caught the dust swirling, and he growled as the bastard rose. Shadow and vapor indeed.

“DAMN YOU, HARRY POTTER!” Voldemort snarled out in total fury.

“Go to hell, bastard.” Harry smirked, “Better luck next time.”

“I WILL KILL YOU IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!” Voldemort declared.

“You couldn’t kill me while I still suckled at my mother’s teats.” Harry glared back, “Next time I see you, I’ll show you the death you’re so desperate to run from.”

The shadow creature roared and charged at him, and Harry dodged to the left. Voldemort didn’t turn around, fleeing out the flaming doorway. Harry chuckled tiredly, “Guess I didn’t have to save that Raikōhō after all.” He laughed a little hysterically. He leaned against the great mirror and took the stone from his pocket. “Now how the hell did I get you, huh?” He tossed it up once, before staring at it. “Wonder if they’ll let me keep it.” He laughed, putting it back in his pants and closing his eyes.

“I think not.” Harry’s eyes snapped open as Dumbledore entered the room, followed by a white McGonagall and Snape. “Good evening, Harry.”

“Yo!” Harry waved, “The obstacle course was fun.”

“Fun?!” Minerva hissed, “How did you even-”

“Where is Quirrell, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, interrupting his deputy.

“Over there.” Harry jerked his head towards the pile of dust and empty clothes, “Idiot let Voldemort possess him. Dark dick was stuck to the back of his head. Guess that’s why he needed that unicorn blood.” Snape and McGonagall both flinched, while McGonagall gasped.

“You-Know-Who?! HERE?!” She looked faint. Snape actually had to hold her up as her knees weakened.

“Yup. Surprised you didn’t see him while he fled. Suppose he was just a spirit. Kept yapping about how he ‘ascended past the weakness’ of death and that ‘death would never hold him.’ Know anything about that, sir? Or why a Dark Lord would offer to spare a muggleborn if she let him kill her son?” Harry raised an eyebrow at the man.

Dumbledore smiled thinly, “You, Mr. Potter, are certainly not what I expected.”

“How did this-” Snape pointed at the dust pile, “-happen, Potter?”

“Not sure.” Harry frowned, “He tried to slap me, and his hand burned when it touched my skin. Once I realized that, I made damn sure to make him regret letting me get close enough to grab him. It’s weird. I shook his hand at Diagon Alley before the year started, and he was fine then.”

“That, I suspect, is because he had not yet allowed Tom to possess him.” Dumbledore said evenly.

“Tom? His name is Tom?” Harry asked incredulously.

“A story for another time. Suffice it to say your mother’s sacrifice imparted a powerful protection upon you, Harry. His very essence is opposed to that kind of love, and so he burned, and Quirrell with him.” Dumbledore kneeled in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder, “I want you to understand, Harry. Quirrell was dead from the moment he allowed Tom to possess him. There was no reward for him at the end of his path. Only death. Nothing you did or didn’t do would have changed that, so do not feel responsible for his death.”

“Professor.” Harry said tiredly, “I may have a nightmare here or there, but don’t confuse that for me feeling responsible. He allowed Voldemort into his soul. He chose to let a mass murderer share his body. I won’t feel bad that he’s dead. Pity, maybe, that he fell so far. But he was determined to murder me once this was done. He was no different than Voldemort himself.”

Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed a little, “I see.” He stood and offered Harry a hand. “Were you injured?”

“No.” Harry yawned, “Just tired. And my bloody head hurts.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Minerva glared at him, “What with the blood all over your face.”

“Huh?” Harry blinked and tapped his face, pulling it back and seeing the red all over it, “Huh… did my scar burst open?”

“It did.” Dumbledore confirmed.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Great.” He drawled, “Guess I have that to look forward to every time the wanker shows up.”

Dumbledore almost snorted, but settled for an amused smile, “So certain he will, Harry?”

“Oh yes.” Harry said, “He seems obsessed with me. Like I hadn’t even done anything to Quirrell when he tried to jinx my broom.” He looked at Snape, “Thanks for the assist, by the way.” Snape inclined his head.

“You represent his failure, and if Tom had anything, it was ego.” Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, “But again, that’s a story for another time. Let us leave this place and make sure you’re alright. Poppy will no doubt have something for that scar of yours.”

Harry yawned again, “Yeah, that sounds good. Bloody Raikōhō. Not even cast at full power and I’m still this tired.” Harry grumbled. McGonagall and Snape almost missed a step as they heard what he said.

Minerva shook her head, and then began to lambast him, “If you had merely kept your nose out of it, you would have been in your bed right now! I told you that the Stone was safe!”

“And three firsties got all the way to the end! I repeat, was this a defense or an obstacle course?!” Harry protested, and almost grinned as his deputy headmistress seemed to puff up for a rant. Dumbledore merely smiled as he led the way back.

…

Despite feeling fine, Harry had to stay in the Hospital Wing overnight. He talked more with Dumbledore before being set free the next morning, and came away with a new resolve to push his magical studies harder. Dumbledore wouldn’t tell him why Voldemort seemed to be obsessed with him, but Harry realized that it didn’t really matter. The fact that he was obsessed was more important than why he was obsessed.

Harry was really irritated that he had to go back to the ‘normal’ world for a few weeks. He had been tempted to just stay the entire summer at Diagon Alley or perhaps even finding himself a house if the money his parents had left him was plentiful enough, but Dumbledore shot that idea down. Apparently Harry needed to call the Dursley’s house home for at least a few weeks each year, lest the protection which had proved so vital in the fight against Quirrell fade away. That was irritating, but at least he and the Dursleys had an understanding. He asked a few other questions, learning that Dumbledore had returned his father’s Invisibility Cloak to Harry, as well as why the mirror had given him the Stone.

Harry thought that protection was both brilliant and incredibly stupid, because Quirrell had not wanted the stone for himself. Dumbledore had chuckled when he said as much. He was set free after breakfast, and as soon as he met up with his friends, had been almost crushed by the brunette missile that was Hermione. She had been so scared when she and Neville had fled rather than moving forward with him. Neville’s hug hadn’t been much less powerful.

And with that, life moved on. Harry was able to play in the last game of the school year against Ravenclaw, and much to Wood’s ire, spent most of it flirting with Cho Chang in the air. She apparently knew she couldn’t beat him straight up, and so tried the good old distraction tactic.

He still caught the Snitch, winning them both the House Cup as well as the Quidditch Cup. He honestly didn’t much care for the former, but was elated over the latter. And the party that they threw in Gryffindor Tower became the stuff of legend. Harry may or may not have woken up the next morning surrounded by the three Chasers on his team, with his face absolutely covered in lipstick.

And then it was over. The final feast came and went, with dozens of seventh year students sobbing as they embraced the friends they’d made along the way. The Gryffindor banners hung around the hall had the Slytherins, and more importantly Malfoy stewing in disappointment. Harry had laughed long and hard when he looked for Malfoy’s name in their class placements and he hadn’t even made the top ten. Harry had taken first place himself, purely off of his practical work. Hermione did better on the theory, but unfortunately for her, practical magic was weighed much more than theoretical. After all, even a Muggle could get an Outstanding with good studying habits.

It seemed almost abrupt when they were let out of the school towards the Hogwarts Express the next day. Hagrid pulled Harry aside to apologize for what had happened with Quirrell, but Harry had just rolled his eyes and told him not to let strangers buy him drinks anymore. He had gifted Harry a scrapbook he had put together, and for the first time in his life that he could actually remember, he saw his parents’ faces. It was the best gift anyone had ever given him.

Harry had been so moved he kept waving at Hagrid even as the Express started to move away, up until he could no longer see the big man. Once he arrived in the compartment Hermione and Neville had saved for them, he smiled at Neville, “I need a favor, Nev.”

“What’s up, Harry?” Neville raised an eyebrow. Harry held out a box. It was small and thin, but quite long. Fifteen inches long, in fact, to accommodate his thirteen-inch wand. Neville’s eyes bulged, “This is a wand box! Why are you giving me this?!”

“I need you to keep it safe for me until next year.” Harry told him as he sat back.

“But why?” Neville looked dumbfounded, “What if you need your wand?!”

“I set it up so that the box would be a Requip point.” Harry smirked, “I need that wand far away from me while I’m at the Dursleys, otherwise the Trace will catch me doing magic.”

“Wait, it’s centered on the wand?” Hermione blinked in surprise. “That’s why we can’t use magic at home without the Ministry catching us?”

“That’s right.” Harry nodded, “Would be nice to be able to break it, but it’s easy to get around. Well, easy if you can use any wandless magic, at any rate.”

Hermione grumbled, “But that just means that it can’t tell who cast any spells! It can only catch Muggleborns who live in Muggle areas!”

“Yup, it’s bullshit.” Harry was still of the opinion that it was a bigot law.

Neville chimed in, “Actually, it’s kind of not.” He flinched as they turned their gazes at him, “Like imagine if you had a bad relationship with your parents. If kids were allowed to use magic they would have zero defense. And even if not, imagine if a child was careless and used magic where muggles that weren’t family members could see. It would be a disaster!”

Harry and Hermione pursed their lips, having not considered that first part. For Harry, it was even true. “I suppose that’s fair.” He said, his face annoyed, “But that still just puts muggleborns at a disadvantage. Two whole ass months where they can’t cast spells. That’s almost a year’s worth of reduced practice compared to Halfbloods and Purebloods over seven years at Hogwarts.” The Trace was broken upon turning seventeen, so by fifth year, they were considered to be responsible enough to use magic outside of school, and it was when they were officially taught Apparition. First and second year were basically considered to be the equivalent of elementary for witches and wizards. Third through fifth were high school equivalents, and sixth and seventh years were university equivalents. Any further schooling or apprenticeships after that was the equivalent of postgraduate studies.

Hermione growled, “They should have facilities where we can use magic at our leisure. Not summer school, but at least somewhere that we can practice without our skills deteriorating.”

Neville shrugged, “That’s, unfortunately, where I think the bigoted part comes in. Good luck getting that approved.” Hermione grumbled about that for the rest of the ride.

Even Harry spending the train ride teaching both of them Requip and how to access Archive didn’t really improve her mood much. She elected to leave her wand with Neville as well, so that she could at least try to start working on the ‘secret’ magic Harry knew. She promised to start filling their Archive with information once Harry revealed that it could be connected to multiple people at the same time. It was almost like the internet!

And with that, the train rolled into King’s Cross, and Harry said goodbye to his friends. His first year at Hogwarts was over.

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