Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story came about after I spent quite a bit of time looking for a good evil Harry fic, as there seems to be a distinct lack of them. Sure, there are the "Dark but not Evil" fics out there, but I find that there is a real lack of true "Dark Lord Harry" fics, at least to my understanding. As such, I have decided to write one. Now, on to the story!**

**Chapter 1**

A five year old Harry Potter sat in his school, silently wishing for someone, anyone, to notice his plight. The Dursleys had beat him again the day before, what for, he couldn't comprehend, and he was not looking forward to returning home again, to be locked away and forced into doing the chores around the house or else risk another beating.

'Someone, _Anyone, _please notice me. Save me!" Harry wished with all his might, but, as always, nobody noticed. Nobody cared if Harry came to school with bruises covering his back. Nobody cared that he was tiny and weak, with ribs clearly visible, save for the fact that it made him an easier target.

The teacher noticed, but didn't truly care for him. Harry saw her looking at him with pity in her eyes every once in a while, but she did nothing. Nobody cared about young Harry Potter, the Freak of Privet Drive, except for the snake that occasionally came by to talk to him in the school yard.

Sela was a nice snake. She cared, but she couldn't do anything for Harry. Despite her assurances that she would bite the Dursleys, Harry knew that it wouldn't end his torment, and would only put his only friend's life at risk.

Thus, Harry's life went on, with no hope of rescue and no chance of respite from the hell he was subjected to at the Dursleys'

* * *

><p>A six year old Harry projected a stoic face as his teacher berated him for his shabby appearance. He no longer cared what the man thought of him. After all, the man couldn't do anything to him in school aside from yelling. He simply sat there, knowing that, for all his bluster, the man couldn't control his life. No, the only ones who could do that were the Dursleys.<p>

The thought of those people caused a flash of hatred to briefly appear on his face. The teacher noticed this, and grabbed Harry by the collar of his oversized shirt, lifting him out of his seat until he was standing, albeit off balance. Harry's anger intensified, and the lights briefly flickered. How dare this man touch him? Only the Dursleys could control him, and that is because he had no choice but to obey in exchange for the food and shelter they provided him. How dare this man presume he had the right to control that which was not his? As Harry's rage intensified, the man suddenly dropped him, clutching his hand and screaming. Looking at it, Harry saw that the offending hand was red and blistered, as if it had touched a still hot stove. A small smile appeared on his otherwise impassive face at the man's plight. Serves him right.

* * *

><p>Seven year old Harry Potter looked down from the top of the school roof, eyes wide in amazement at what he had done. One second he was being chased by his overgrown bully of a cousin and his posse of fellow bullies, and the next thing he knew, he was on the roof! It was like magi- wait, didn't Auntie Petunia ban that word from the house? Harry began to consider that maybe there was more to Petunia's fear of the topic than she let on. M<p>

However, coming down from the roof ultimately took priority, and as Harry did not want to get in trouble, he only saw one option. He had to re-create the magical event. He closed his eyes and focused his mind and willed himself to return to the ground. After several seconds, he opened his eyes, only to see himself still on the roof. He shut his eyes, and tried again.

* * *

><p>The sun was starting to set, and Harry had yet to move from his spot on the roof. He was starting to panic, knowing what would happen when he got home. With panic building in his chest, he desperately wished to return to the ground... and suddenly, he was there, standing on soft dirt. Knowing that he didn't have a moment to lose, he started to run home, only to pause. Why walk when he could simply magic himself there?<p>

Closing his eyes, he once again made the silent wish to return home, and just like that, his surroundings changed. He opened his eyes, only for them to widen in horror. He had appeared, not in the garden or his cupboard, but rather in the kitchen, just as the Dursleys were having dinner. He watched Petunia's eyes widen, first in fear, then in fury, while Vernon's flabby face began to turn a bright purple, veins beginning to appear on his face.

"Boy..." Vernon's voice was a deep, angry growl. Then, a plate half full of food flew towards Harry, the improvised projectile being thrown by Aunt Petunia, her features contorted in a visage of pure, undiluted anger. It shattered as it hit its target, sending Harry to the floor. By then, Vernon had pulled a still hot frying pan off the stove, and strode towards his stricken nephew, wielding the improvised weapon with both hands.

Seeing the weapon start its descent towards his head, Harry shut his eyes, praying for unconsciousness, only for a loud BANG! to emanate from just above him, followed by a crashing sound and the clattering of silverware. Opening his eyes, Harry saw Vernon lying on the ground, having smashed through the table. This served only to make Petunia angrier, and she picked up a rolling pin and used Harry's confusion to smack Harry with it, causing his vision to flicker. A second blow, followed by a third, knocked Harry out cold.

* * *

><p>He awoke in the familiar darkness of his cupboard, listening to muted voices up above him.<p>

"...death's too good for him! You saw what he did to me! I want to see him suffer!" Vernon shouted.

"Exactly! When you're weeding, you pull the things out by the roots, and Harry is the root of all our problems! I want him gone, now!" Petunia screamed back, causing Harry's mind to fill with fear, and fear was the most powerful emotion when it came to accidental magic. As Harry wished that he could do something to make his angry aunt and uncle to go away, his magic began to search for a solution, and found it in the form of an anomaly residing within a scar on its bearer's forehead. Magic acted as a primary immune system for wizards, keeping their bodies and souls clean of foreign taint, although, just like some diseases could overwhelm the body, so could some forms of taint overwhelm or bypass the magical defenses. Horcruxes were of the latter, as otherwise the one in Harry would have purged him of all magic and destroyed his soul upon implantation, or vice versa. Thus, horcruxes were designed to stealthily bypass their targets' magical resistances, rather than overcome them, as the former path would lead to a smaller chance of the horcrux failing to be created, as the ambient magic present inside most artifacts and creatures would interfere with the soul fragment implantation. Thus, when Harry's magic became aware of the presence of Voldemort's soul fragment, it quickly mobilized to attack and assimilate the tiny fragment of soul. Voldemort's piece of soul barely had a chance to scream before it was absorbed, as the tiny fragment of soul stood no chance against the fear-bolstered might of Harry's whole soul, and was quietly assimilated and destroyed, being dissolved into component materials. All aspects of Voldemort's personality present were deemed useless and disposed of, while the raw energy contained within the soul was absorbed into Harry's, creating a tiny, secondary magical core. Among the absorbed content was a fragment of Voldemort's dark knowledge, which flooded into Harry's brain.

This all happened within a second, and until the knowledge was assimilated, Harry was completely unaware of the housekeeping going on within his body. Then, there came the feeling of a massive weight on his mind suddenly being lifted, and a torrent of fragmented knowledge was dumped into Harry's head. However, rather than take the form of a steady stream of images or sensations, it was as if Harry simply remembered something he had long forgotten, namely bits and pieces of dark curses and memories. However, it was enough. Harry now had a chance at survival.

Now, most people would shudder at the thought of attacking their foster guardians with dark torture curses, but Harry's guardians were plotting his death, and in this sort of situation, parts of the brain shut down, replacing logical thought with simple fight or flight instinct, and Harry subconsciously knew that he couldn't flee when he was already in the closest thing he had to a sanctuary, so his brain chose to fight with the newly acquired knowledge. Shoving aside all emotion excluding the need to eliminate threats to his well being, Harry raised his hand and willed the locked cupboard door to be blasted aside, and, with fragments of a young Tom Riddle's control over his magic coupled with Harry's own control, the door exploded outwards, reduced to little more than splinters and dust. Walking out, Harry homed in on the screams coming from above. Harry sprinted up the stairs to his guardians' room, only to find the door locked. It wouldn't stop him. He blasted the door down, only to see Vernon come charging at him with a knife in his hands, while Petunia held a gun limply in her hands, standing against the wall and overcome by fear. His panic senses shut down, Harry simply willed for one of the spell effects he knew to come into being, and a sickly red light was his magic's reply, the bolt slamming into Vernon's chest. Then, the exsanguinator curse did its bloody work, and all of Vernon's blood, which was until then inside the body, exploded outward, tearing through the body in the process, reducing what was once Vernon Dursley to little more than a pulpy mass spread across the floor. Petunia screamed, closing her eyes as the blood sprayed outward, the gun going off in her hands, the shot going wild. An overpowered severing charm cut through her neck, her head sliding off the body it was once attached to as what was left of Petunia slowly slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood behind.

With the elimination of the threat, Harry's senses returned to him. His first feelings upon seeing the carnage he had inflicted were, without a doubt, horror and shock. He had, after all, killed the two people that had taken care of him for his entire life! But then, Harry's thoughts strayed back to when Vernon had beat him for the first time.

"Why?" The then four year old Harry had asked.

"Because I'm the one in charge here, and you're nothing but a worthless, little FREAK!" Vernon had replied.

This detour down memory lane had allowed other, darker emotions, perhaps remnants of Voldemort's twisted psyche, to manifest themselves. Harry began to realize that he had, in fact, enjoyed the fact that he didn't fear the Dursleys when he had killed them. He realized that, at that moment, the roles of him and Vernon were reversed. He was the one in control now, and he relished the feeling. It was in that moment that seven year old Harry took the first step on a dark and twisted path.

"M... mum?" Dudley's scared voice shook Harry out of his musings. The first thought in Harry's mind upon hearing his cousin was revenge. He would make the overweight boy suffer! Then, the desire for a bloody, brutal killing faded, being replaced by a memory of the feeling of him being in control. Harry wanted to be in control again, and this time, he wanted the feeling to last. As Dudley peeked into his parents' room, eyes widening in fright as he beheld the headless corpse of his mother and the splatter of blood that had once been his father, Harry released his magic, shaping it with the fragmented knowledge he had of legilimency and the imperius curse. Locking eyes with his cousin, Harry dove into his cousin's fear weakened mind, and then he started to rip and tear Dudley's weak mind apart, hearing his cousin's very soul scream in agony as pieces of it were systematically severed, leaving nothing but an empty shell behind. Seconds later, Harry withdrew from his cousin's mind, his eyes taking in the older boy's form prone on the ground, lying still in what was once agony. Then, Dudley stood, fixing Harry with an emotionless stare.

"How may I serve you?" Dudley asked, his voice devoid of all anger, fear, or happiness. Harry broke into a smile as the feeling of control coursed through him again. His cousin, his bullying, overweight, beloved cousin, was now just a mindless slave to serve his will.

"Turn out the light, then step outside." Harry said, and the thing that was once Dudley complied, the light in the room going out, before the walking corpse that extinguished it stepped outside the room. It was then that Harry's magical exertion caught up to him, and, as the adrenaline rush faded, Harry Potter fell asleep on the blood coated sheets of what was once his aunt and uncle's bed, a smile still on his face.

* * *

><p>Harry awoke the next day with the smile still present on his face. He lay still on the blood soaked sheets, content in the fact that, for the first time, he was in control of his life. After an hour of reveling in that simple fact, he called Dudley to him.<p>

"Fetch me breakfast. Bacon and Eggs, you may lick the plate once I'm finished eating." Harry ordered when his servant entered. The last part of the order came from the fact that, while Dudley no longer could truly think or be considered human, he still required some nutrition to sustain his body, but he had plenty stored away already and didn't need further fattening.

Dudley left in order to fulfill the order, and the smell of cooking soon filled the house, as if it were just a normal morning. Soon, breakfast was brought up, and Harry quickly ate, before giving the plate to Dudley to lick clean. His breakfast eaten, Harry began to plan his next course of action. It was Saturday, so he had at least two days before anyone noticed him or his family missing, but after that, Harry couldn't stay in the house any longer. With that in mind, he ordered Dudley to search the house for money or anything else valuable, such as jewelry, while Harry got himself changed. Finally, after nearly an hour of just wandering the house collecting things, Dudley returned to Harry, stating that he had completed his order. Smiling, Harry walked downstairs, put on his cousin's coat and an old pair of Dudley's shoes, ordering Dudley to do the same, only without the coat, and together, boy and brain dead servant left Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time.

However, the escape was not smooth at all. Almost as soon as they had exited the house, the pair ran into Piers Polkiss, who had been invited over by Dudley to go Harry Hunting over the weekend.

"If it isn't the freak himself! What say we play a game, Freak? I bet you already know what it i-" Piers began, but Harry cut him off, a smile forming on his face.

"Servant, KILL HIM!" Harry shouted the last words, pointing at Piers.

"Yes, Master." Dudley replied in monotone, before reaching for Piers' neck.

"Make it painful, though. Make him suffer!" Harry cackled, and Dudley began to lift and shake his former friend, before pile driving him into the ground.

"Dud, man? What are you doing?" Piers cried, right before Dudley began to stomp on him. Loud cracks indicated arms, legs, and ribs breaking, blood slowly beginning to flow.

"Enough. Stand back." Harry said, smile still present on his face. After all, why waste such a beautiful opportunity to experiment with his newfound magic. Closing his eyes, Harry willed every bone in Piers' body to explode. A small snap and a howl of pain showed that Harry had failed, only having broken a single finger bone.

"Pity. Let's try again." Harry said, and pointed his fingers at Piers, forming them into a gun like shape. Again, Harry willed every bone in Piers' body to explode, only this time imagining the scene of the boy's destroyed body as he did so. A gurgling scream indicated partial success. Harry looked down to see that both of the boy's legs reduced to a mess of red mush on the ground, bone splinters embedded in the pulped flesh. Pointing his fingers again, Harry then imagined only Piers' arms exploding, and just like that, only a torso remained intact. Harry sighed.

"Aww, I wanted to play some more." Harry pouted, and pointed his fingers at Piers' head, and the rest of the boys' body exploded, leaving nothing recognizable behind. Harry stepped over the body, and Dudley followed suit. The two of them then left Privet Drive, never to return.

* * *

><p>It was hours later that Harry found himself leading his servant through the streets, looking for a place to stay, when he suddenly noticed a certain pub. Visually, it appeared old fashioned and shabby, with the words "The Leaky Cauldron" denoting the name of the place. However, as he looked at it, Harry began to feel a certain excitement in the air. It was barely noticeable, but it clearly came from the pub. Curious, Harry walked up to it, and entered, Dudley following. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. People clad in old fashioned robes and cloaks were sitting around tables, some drinking, some playing various games, and still others were... Harry froze. One of the patrons had, with a wave of his wand, stopped a falling glass, returning it to the table with practiced precision. The barkeep noticed his staring, and looked up.<p>

"Bless my soul... It's Harry Potter!" The mention of his name brought the entirety of the room's attention on him.

"Wha..." Harry never got to finish his sentence before he was mobbed by people looking for his autograph, or to offer him gifts, which he accepted with varying degrees of enjoyment, and, in the case of one particularly ugly woman, a kiss.

"Allright, allright, break it up! Can't you see he's being overwhelmed?" The barkeep shouted, but the crowd did not stop. The man raised his wand, and a loud BANG echoed throughout the room. The crowd dispersed.

"Good. Now that that's taken care of, what can I do for you, Harry? Do you need to go into Diagon, or just here for a drink?" The man smiled at the end, indicating his joke.

"Um... well, why did all that happen? Why do you all know my name?" Harry asked, confused.

"You mean you don't know? You saved us all, Harry! If it weren't for you, we would be still living in fear of You-know-who!" The barkeep said.

"Who? I don't know who." Harry said, confused.

"You know, You-know-who, He-who-must-not-be-named, The Dark Lord V-Vol-Voldemort, Him?" The man asked.

"No..."

"What rock did Dumbledore stick you under?" The man muttered, before continuing, "Whatever. The important thing is, because of you, the Dark Lord is dead, and we're all alive. Now, do you want to get into Diagon Alley, or just stand here and socialize?" The man asked.

"What's Diagon Alley?" Harry asked.

"It's the center of Magical Britain! Anything magical you need, you can get it there. From spellbooks to potion ingredients, you can get it there."

"Really? Where do I get the money for all this?" Harry asked.

"Why, Gringotts, the Wizard bank! I'm sure you were left something, after all, the Potters weren't exactly the poorest family out there, if you know what I mean!"

"How do I get there?" Harry asked.

"Follow me." The barkeep said, entering a back room, which contained a brick wall and nothing else. Pulling out a long, thin wooden stick, the man tapped an arrangement of bricks, and the brick wall slid aside, and Harry caught his first glimpse of Diagon Alley.

"Thank you!" Harry called as he entered the alley, Dudley following behind him, walking towards the building that Harry could see was Gringotts.

Entering the bank, Harry saw it was filled with short, pointy eared creatures wearing old fashioned suits and going about their business. Harry approached one, ordering Dudley to wait by the entrance. The creature turned to him.

"Any business you have, speak to one of the tellers." The goblin said, pointing towards a free window.

"Thanks." Harry said, before running off.

"State your name and business here." The teller said.

"Harry Potter, sir, and I'm here to make a withdrawal." Harry said.

"Really now... I assume you want to be seeing the Potter vault?" Harry nodded in response.

"Very well then. Griphook! Escort Mr. Potter here to his family vault!" Another creature, whom Harry had realized was a goblin from the various conversations going on around him, approached.

"Come with me, Mr. Potter." Griphook ordered boredly, leading Harry towards a cart. The cart sped off, and Harry was soon whooping in joy at the vehicle's speed. Finally, the ride ended as he arrived at the vault, and Harry exited the cart, following Griphook.

"Please place your hand here to verify your identity." Harry complied, and there was a sharp pain as his hand was sliced open. Harry cried out, spinning towards the goblin, eyes narrowing in fury and already prepared to kill.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Potter. The device simply drew your blood to confirm your being the real Harry Potter. Had you been an impostor, your hand would have been stuck there, and you would have been bled dry. Now, I believe you wish to access your vault?" Harry nodded, his eyes still narrowed. In response, the goblin walked up to the door and inserted a golden key into a hidden lock, and the door swung open.

Seeing the mountains of gold inside, Harry regretted not bringing Dudley to help him carry it all. Voicing his concern, the goblin pulled out a small black pouch.

"For ten galleons, you can get one of these pouches. It is linked to your vault, and will allow you to withdraw all the money you need. Simply state the amount, and it will appear in the pouch."

"How much is a galleon?" Harry asked.

"See those gold coins? Those are galleons. The silver ones are Sickles, and the copper ones are Knuts. I won't bore you with the nonsensical exchange rates that these British have invented, as everything is priced in galleons nowadays."

Harry scooped up ten galleons and gave them to the goblin, who in turn handed him the pouch.

"Now, in addition to money, various family heirlooms and deeds are stored in here, although most of the properties owned by the Potter family, including Potter Estate were sold off to help fund the war against Voldemort, and the house owned by the Potters upon their death was purchased by the ministry for the construction of the Potter War Memorial, with the funds being used to pay for your scholarship to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Should you choose to attend, you will not need to pay a single knut for tuition." Griphook explained.

"Is there any property that the Potter family does own?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I believe they own a fairly large house in the residential area of Diagon, where they lived after selling their old estate but before going into hiding. I believe a portkey keyed to its location is located in here." Griphook replied.

"Thank you, Griphook. Do you mind waiting while I look around?" Harry asked. Griphook nodded as a reply, and Harry entered the vault. Looking around, he first saw the mountains of gold, proof of his newly acquired wealth. As he proceeded deeper into the vault, he began to see less money and more heirlooms. Ranging from jewel studded ornamental swords, which Harry looked at once before trying and failing to swing one, and then moved on. There were some examples of jewelry, but Harry ignored them, looking for something else instead. He found it in the form of a set of boxes, which were yet to be unpacked. Opening one, Harry found it to be full of various books, likely taken from the manor when it was sold. Harry pulled out one, looking at the title. 'One Hundred and One Magical Pranks to Entertain Your Friends and Torment Your Enemies' was promptly set aside as Harry continued to search for real spellbooks. The ones he deemed worthwhile were set aside, along with a small book on wizarding culture and customs, as well as a few journals by past Potters. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of searching, Harry gave up, deciding to take the books he already found with him to his new home, deciding to return later for the rest. On his way out of the vault, he found the promised deed to the property in Diagon, as well as a ring that was supposedly a "Portkey" to said property. Apparently, all he had to do was put on the ring and say "Marauders' Pad" and he would be teleported there. Very useful indeed.

Exiting his vault, he got back onto the cart and headed out of the bank, intending to pick up Dudley and go shopping.

As he left the bank, Dudley in tow, he ran into a blond boy about his age, who was running ahead of a pair of similarly haired parents, both of whom had an air about them that simply screamed "I'm better than you."

"Watch where you're going, filthy mudblood!" The blond shouted as he picked himself up off the ground. "I ought to teach you a lesson about respecting your bet-" That was about as far as the boy got in his rant before Harry ordered Dudley to grab the boy by the throat.

"What was that you were saying?" Harry asked, as Dudley held the squirming boy up by his throat. Harry noticed the blond's parents, if that was what they really were, standing back and watching the spectacle, amusement on the face of the male, uncertainty in the face of the female.

"Put me down you filthy mudblood!" The boy screamed. Dudley was about to do so when Harry countermanded the order.

"You are to obey me and only me, servant. Knock him unconscious, now is not the time." Harry ordered, and Dudley complied, slamming the boy down into the ground, causing the blonde's eyes to roll back in his head.

"Come, servant. Pick up the books, then follow me." Harry ordered, and Dudley obeyed, picking up the books scattered across the ground before following in Harry's footsteps, his master unconcerned with the boy's mother trying to revive her son, or the boy's father aiming a calculating stare at Harry's back. Once he was out of the bank, Harry grabbed Dudley's hand and activated the portkey, disappearing and reappearing in his new home.

"Set the books down on the shelves, then come with me. Quickly now!" Harry ordered, standing impatiently by the entrance as Dudley scrambled to obey. Soon, the books were put away for later use, and Harry set out again into Diagon Alley, this time with gold to spend.

His first stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where he spent nearly an hour getting himself fitted. By the time he left, the sun was already starting to set, but Harry paid it no mind, nor did he care for the fact that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He was simply too focused on getting to know as much as possible about his power, and that was worth more to him than any food could have been. He left the shop with one pair of robes on him, as well as three more in a bag held by Dudley.

His next stop was Flourish and Blott's Booksellers, and he quickly purchased a good handful of what looked like school textbooks, such as the full set of 'The Standard Book of Spells', volumes I-VII, 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi, and The Potioneer's Encyclopedia, to name a few. The subjects he sampled ranged from charms to arithmancy and runes, but try as he might, Harry couldn't find anything on the type of magic he used on the Dursleys, as the book of supposed "Defensive Curses" he found contained nothing more severe than a particularly painful stunner. With that in mind, he went to the shopkeeper.

"Yes? How can I help you?" The man asked, looking down at Harry.

"Well, I was wondering, where are the books on curses?" Harry asked.

"And why would a young boy such as yourself want to research such a dark topic?" The shopkeeper asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry knew that his true reason, that he wanted to become more powerful, wouldn't sit with the man, so he decided to concoct up a story.

"You see, I'm an orphan, my parents were killed by Vol-Voldemort a-and I just wanted t-to know how to p-protect myself sh-should I be attacked again." Harry had to concentrate on his magic to force some crocodile tears into his eyes, and the sobs that started to shake his body as he explained were actually attempts at holding in laughter at the man's flinch at Voldemort's name.

"I see. Well, we don't sell that kind of spellbook here, for obvious reasons. You might find something of that sort down in Knockturn, but that's not a safe place to be, even for a full grown wizard, never mind a young boy such as yourself! There's hags, werewolves, and even dark wizards living in there! I even heard a vampire coven has set up shop somewhere in that place, so you'd best steer clear if you know what's good for you!" The man's warning set the gears in Harry's mind turning. If it was forbidden, it was sure to be powerful, so Knockturn was his next destination.

"Allright then, can I at least buy these books then?" Harry asked, and soon, he was out of the store, handing a featherlight charmed and expanded bag of books to Dudley for safekeeping as Harry went in the direction of Knockturn. By the time Harry arrived there, the sun had almost completely set, the sky being a deep red-orange in color. It was then, with the setting sun casting deep shadows and most of the alley's inhabitants already gone did Harry make his way into Knockturn alley. Unlike the open architecture of Diagon alley, the buildings in Knockturn seemed to press in on you, blotting out the setting sun and bathing the alley in darkness.

A loud cackle caused Harry to spin around and come face to face with a Hag, the creature being covered in warts and grinning, displaying sharp fangs. Her claws reached towards Harry's arm, when suddenly, there was a flash of sickly red light as the Exsanguinator curse, the same one that had ended Vernon Dursley, slammed into her, having flown from Harry's finger. The resulting explosion of blood covered half of Harry's face and clothing with the sticky, warm red liquid.

Threat dealt with, Harry continued down the alley unmolested until he found a place that looked promising. As he entered "Leather Bound: Finest Books in Knockturn Alley", he heard a noise like the pattering of feet close behind him. Spinning around, Harry fired another exsanguinator, only for the curse to fly through empty air. There was no-one there. On alert, Harry entered the bookstore, a bell ringing to signal his arrival. Ordering Dudley to wait inside by the entrance, Harry began to browse the selection. Immediately, he realized that there was much more advanced and powerful magic on selection here. One title in particular intrigued him, or rather, it was the book itself that stood out. Among the leather bound, written on parchment books that were commonplace in the store, this particular volume, as well as several others nearby, were bound using more modern means, and were written on regular paper. Pulling out the tome, Harry read the title. 'Encyclopedia Arcanum: Arithmancy Edition'. Looking at the next, he saw it was for Runes, and the one after that was for charms and transfiguration. There were sixteen volumes in total, covering Runes, Arithmancy, Charms/Transfiguration, Battle Magic, Wands and Wandlore, Potions, Alchemy, Rituals, Magical Fauna and Flora, Wards and Enchanting, Blood Magic, Soul Magic, Mental Magic, Sapient Nonhumans, Magical Theory, and Exotic Magics, as well as a smaller, seventeenth volume that acted as an index and an introduction to the series, although it seemed to be made up of a patchwork of paper and parchment, the parchment being an addendum written by a whole different man. Quickly reading it through, Harry found that it was written by a group of independent magical researchers who intended to write a next generation set of school textbooks using their findings on the nature of magic, something that had not been researched in depth. Unfortunately, it seemed that, due to their status as muggleborns, the books were deemed to be made entirely of fantasies and wild conjectures by the purebloods in charge of the magical scientific community, and nearly eighty years of research was simply discounted as if it were simply made up. Following this, four of the five committed suicide, while the fifth wrote an addition to the introductory volume stating how their life's work was destroyed by bigotry, before using the blood of his fellow researchers and his own sacrifice to perform a ritual to ensure the preservation of the Encyclopedia Arcanum. Harry concluded that he had gone insane. A tapping sound alerted Harry to another presence in the room, causing him to look up from his reading.

"So, what is a young boy like you doing in the middle of Knockturn Alley looking at books of all things, and covered in blood no less?" The man, an old, wizened wizard clad in faded grey robes asked.

"I was curious is all." Harry said.

"I see. So, what book has caught your interest here, young man?" The man asked, seemingly unfazed by the blood all over Harry's face. In response, Harry showed him.

"Oh, that. I remember. Encyclopedia Arcanum, such a shame that one. Eighty years of work, wasted just like that. Shame, but it can't be helped. Old muggleborns like me, well, we aren't exactly considered first class citizens here in Britain, or anywhere in Europe really." The man sighed.

"Then why stay?" Harry asked.

"Where do I go? This is all I own, and almost all of Europe is still stuck in the old, blood purist ways."

"What about other places, like China, or America?" Harry asked.

"Heh, China. China's even more purist than England, and that's saying something. The muggle side of things may be all progressive with their socialist regime, but the magical side of things is still stuck in the old ways, with blood being everything there. If you aren't part of an old, established family, no school will take you. The best you can hope for is to get married to someone who is a member of one of those families. Hell, they still bind feet in magical China! America though, that's another story. Most modern magical country in the world, and there's no real statute of secrecy there either, but most people don't realize that. You see, European wizards are a bit behind the times, and many wizards still believe that the American wizards are either slaveholders or back country bumpkins, and the excuse they call history class in school doesn't help either. So, by the time people realize this, it's too late to change our lifestyles and move to the states and away from all this purity crap. It's the same with China and Japan too. The Chinese magicals consider Magical Japan to be all backwards, not realizing that after the second world war, Magical Japan became much more like Magical America. Anyway, I've rambled on enough about magical countries, now, I assume you want those books?" The man asked.

"Yes. It's very interesting. Do you know if the things in here are true?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the books.

"I've read a bit, and from what I can tell, that's the real deal. _Light," _the man intoned, and a ball of light appeared at the end of his finger. "That was the lumos charm, the normal incantation would be _lumos, _but I've managed to get it both wandlessly and in a different language, though I still can't do it silently. Tell you what. Promise that you will come back here and keep an old man company, a few conversations here and there, and I'll give you a permanent discount on these, as well as any other books that catch your fancy. Sound good?" The man asked, with what seemed like hope of all things in his voice.

"Of course. I don't know your name though..." Harry asked.

"Oh, you can call me Arnold Grey. Now, what about you young man?"

"Harry Potter, sir." Harry replied.

"Hmm. So you're the infamous Harry Potter. A little on the small side for a famous killer of dark lords, don't you think? Of course, I know all the stuff they print about you is rubbish, but still, Harry Potter. I'll look forward to talking with you again. Now, I believe it's thirty-two galleons for the entire Encyclopedia Arcanum, with a twenty percent discount, of course. I look forward to seeing you again!" Arnold said. Harry paid him, before saying his goodbyes and leaving, fully intending to return to the store the next day. Handing the books to Dudley, who put them into the bag, Harry left the store. A hag ambushed him a short way away from the store, being dealt with in the same way as the previous one, her blood covering Harry's already blood soaked face. Harry continued to walk through the alley, when the sound of rapid running reached his ears. He twisted around just in time to see a man leap towards him, eyes yellow and catlike in the moonlight, which reflected off the pair of fangs in his open mouth. Harry's first exsanguinator missed, and he didn't have time to fire a second one before the vampire was upon him. He felt the fangs piece his neck and his blood begin to flow. However, it only lasted a second before Harry's second exsanguinator met its mark, killing the vampire. Harry pressed his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding, seeing the portkey on his finger as he did so.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Harry muttered, before grabbing Dudley with his free hand and saying the activation phrase. With that, he was whisked away back home. He collapsed on the ground as he arrived, his blood flowing between his fingers.

Looking around, Harry saw a metal cabinet embedded into the wall. It looked quite out of place, likely being a recent addition to the house.

"Dudley, open the cabinet!" Harry groaned as his wound continued to throb in pain. As soon as the cabinet was opened, Harry saw that it was filled with first aid supplies. The cabinet was likely put there just in case someone was portkeyed in needing medical attention, having been wounded in battle. Standing up, Harry walked slowly and shakily towards the cabinet, blood already dripping to the floor, running down his side in small rivulets.

Harry pulled out two potions, one being a blood replenisher and the other being a skin repairing balm, as well as a roll of bandages. Harry downed the blood replenisher first, its metallic taste reminding Harry of the blood it was supposed to restore. Then, Harry applied healing balm and bandaged the wound, making sure not to choke himself out in the process. Then, exhausted from the day's adventure, he ordered Dudley to carry him to the house's bedroom. Then, he passed out as Dudley reached out to grab him.

* * *

><p>Harry awoke to a dull ache throughout his body, a sticky feeling all over his skin, and a sharp pain in his neck. Groaning, Harry rose from his bed and went to wash himself, ordering Dudley to make breakfast in the meantime.<p>

Once he was clean of blood, Harry put on a clean set of robes and went down to eat, handing his old robes to Dudley in the meantime for cleaning. It was after he finished breakfast that he decided to look at the books he bought, specifically the Encyclopedia Arcanum. He decided to start with the tome on Magical Theory, and he was not disappointed.

_The first and foremost thing about magic is that it is based entirely on intent. There is no light or dark magic, merely light and dark uses for it. That being said, a person's magical core will, over time, become attuned towards a particular type of magic based on what is used by its wizard. Magic can also be considered sentient, if not sapient, as well, thus proving the statement that 'The wand choses the wizard' invalid, as rather than the wand choosing a wizard, it is the wizard's magical core that is deciding which wand is most attuned to it. While there is no known case of magic exhibiting true intelligence, magic seems to always seek to do what is best for its user, such as channeling the correct 'code' of magical pulses on demand to produce a specific effect. This 'magic code' is explained in more detail in the Arithmancy volume of this series. Suffice to say that, in layman's terms, the mind sends a signal to the magical core requesting a desired effect, which the magic core then turns into a code and discharges it. This is why accidental magic occurs primarily in the occasion of strong desire on the user's part, discharging only when the user can muster enough intent to produce the correct magic code for discharge, as well as to focus the discharge into a directed spell. In cases where the code is met correctly but the spell is not focused, the magic is dissipated throughout the body and eventually re-absorbed into the magic core. _

_At first glance, there seems to be two main parts to a spell, namely the physical, which includes wand motions and incantations, and the immaterial, which is the discharge and focusing of the desired magic code. However, were the first of those two parts actually necessary for spellcraft, silent and wandless magic would be impossible. Thus, as seen in the above paragraph, the only thing necessary for a spell to function is enough mental focus to both force a discharge of a particular magic code as well as to focus the discharge into a spell. Why the incantation? Its 'necessity' is explained through the muggle phenomenon known as the placebo effect, which may or may not be a result of their own near-nonexistent magical cores, although that is just conjecture. The placebo effect is, in essence, a positive effect produced entirely through confidence in its occuring. An example would be dying water blue and adding a mint flavor, telling an unaware person that it is a headache potion, and the person being cured of their headache, despite the fact that they simply drank dyed, flavored water instead of an actual headache potion. The incantation does something similar to this, creating a false feeling of confidence in that waving a wand and saying something in an exotic sounding language will produce the desired effect, thus helping in creating an appropriate discharge from the magical core through the placebo effect. This has been proven through experimentation with the common lumos charm, where the test subject cast lumos by saying the incantation first in latin, then saying a synonym in five different languages, including English, Arabic, Hebrew, Greek, and Russian. Each time, the spell succeeded in being cast. This procedure was tested with a wide variety of test subjects, ranging from adults fresh out of school to men above age sixty. _

_Wandless magic, meanwhile, is much more difficult to perform than silent or multilingual magic, as it requires some true mental discipline rather than just a sense of confidence in the spell working. The wand, after all, all but eliminates the second phase of spellcasting, namely the focusing of a magical core discharge into a spell. In order for wandless magic to work, the mind must be able to replace the wand in terms of acting as a focus. This is shown in accidental magic, but as children grow up, they become dependent on wands for focus and the part of the mind/body responsible for focusing the spell atrophies, as its place was taken by the wand. Thus, many wizards begin to believe that only extremely powerful wizards can do wandless magic, when in fact, there are multiple known cases of children harnessing and controlling their accidental magic entirely without a wand. Thus, a child who has never even held a wand or heard that wands are needed for magic will have a much higher proficiency in wandless magics, partially due to the aforementioned placebo effect, and partially due to the magic focus part of their mind/body not yet becoming atrophied due to wand dependency._

Harry continued to read the book for hours on end, soaking in every detail, before his stomach began to growl. Alerted to this, Harry ordered Dudley to make him lunch and closed the book, deciding to practice what the book said.

With an intonation of _ignite,_ a small tongue of fire appeared over Harry's fingertip, just as Harry willed it to. Extinguishing it, Harry tried it again silently. This time, he noticed it was much harder to ignite the flame, as saying nothing made it slightly harder for him to imagine a flame bursting into existence. He needed to truly focus on a flame coming into being before his attempts at conjuring up a flame yielded any results other than sparks. Thus encouraged, Harry began to experiment with other spell effects, going from conjuring small streams of water or light sources to eventually using his exsanguinators. Then, Dudley announced that he had completed his order, and Harry quickly ate. Then, just as he was about to return to the book, Harry remembered his promise to Arnold Grey. Bookmarking the page he was on, Harry handed the book to Dudley before walking out, Dudley in tow. This time, his trip through the alley was hag and vampire free, although whether that was due to it being still daytime or due to news getting around, Harry wasn't sure. Soon enough, he arrived at Arnold's bookstore. Ordering Dudley to wait by the entrance, Harry entered the shop, immediately spotting the old shopkeeper.

"Harry? What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Arnold asked as soon as he saw the bandages around Harry's neck.

"A Vampire attacked me when I was walking home last night. I got away, and the Vampire didn't." Harry replied.

"A Vampire? Merlin's beard, you fought off a vampire? How did you kill it?" Arnold asked.

"I never said anything about killing it." Harry replied defensively.

"Come on lad, this is Knockturn. If you didn't kill it, you wouldn't be standing here right now. So come on, spill." Arnold said.

"Well, it jumped on me and bit me before I could turn around, and then I just willed it to get off of me and it flew off! Then, I turned around and tried to will the nastiest thing I could think of to happen to it, and, well, it exploded." Harry lied. He didn't want Arnold to know just how much control he had over his magic.

"Hmm. It bit you then? I assume that's the reason for your neck being bandaged? Tell me you took a blood replenisher as soon as you got home, vampire spit acts as an anti-coagulant to keep blood flowing, you must have lost quite a lot of it, even if the vamp didn't get a chance to drain you." Arnold said, concerned.

"I did, but my body's still hurting all over." Harry replied.

"As expected of someone who got into an encounter like that. You see, vampirism is a disease, just like lycanthropy. Both are caused by exposure to magical bacteria living in the vampire or werewolf's saliva, which, assuming the victim survives the encounter, changes them from the inside out. How long did the vamp have its teeth in you?"

"It barely finished biting me before I threw it off, sir, and it didn't have a chance to latch on again."

"Don't call me sir, makes me feel older than I already am. Anyway, you've gotten lucky. There's no known cure for vampirism, but your limited exposure would mean that, in your case, the change could take years, if not decades, to fully complete itself. You'll probably develop a taste for blood pops, maybe have slightly noticeable fangs by the time you're school age, but you won't get a noticeable thirst for blood for a few more years after that. Check the Vampires section of the Sapient Nonhumans volume of Encyclopedia Arcanum if you want to know more."

"What do you mean, I've gotten lucky? I'm a vampire now, aren't I?" Harry asked.

"No, you're not one yet. Most vampire victims either die from blood loss or turn into full vampires within the hour, and the next thing they know they've woken up with a massive thirst for blood and an allergy to sunlight. These ones tend to go mad from blood thirst, like the one that attacked you, as the more advanced the stage of vampirism, the more acute the thirst. You've gotten very lucky, Harry, in that you have years to slowly adapt to your new body, unlike most." Arnold replied.

"Will it affect my magic?" Harry asked.

"Well, most vampires tend to be slightly better at the darker forms of magic, specifically blood magic, and soul magic to a lesser extent, but it shouldn't affect your magical ability in other fields too much."

"What about the sun? When should I start worrying about it?"

"You might feel a little uncomfortable in the sun, but this should work to your advantage, as from what I've heard, the really old vampires can go out in the sun as well as at night due to them adapting to it, and with your slow rate of turning, you might just adapt in the same manner, but I don't know, there's been very few cases like yours. You'll just have to wait and see." Arnold reassured.

The two of them continued to talk, the topic of discussion soon straying away from Harry's new affliction to magical theory, where Harry demonstrated his wandless abilities.

Harry left the store with two new books to add to his collection, namely 'Most Potente Potions' and 'Rituals Most Foule', both of which were written by the same author. These two books were chosen because, while the Encyclopedia volumes covering these topics had plenty of theory, they lacked practical examples. The tomes on Alchemy and Exotic magics were also lacking in practical examples, but tomes on Alchemy were hard to find in Britain, what with Alchemy being much more prevalent in mainland Europe, and the Exotic magics volume covered areas such as African and Native American shamanism, Japanese mysticism, Divination, Tibetian body magics, as well as other magics unique to certain regions or peoples. In order to obtain knowledge in those fields, Harry would have to go to the source, something which he could not do as an underage wizard. This time, Harry portkeyed home rather than risk a walk through Knockturn. Adding the books to his collection, Harry continued to read and practice. After all, the strong were the ones who controlled the world, and Harry would be the most powerful among them all.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, as Harry ate dinner at his new home, a bearded wizard clad in purple robes appeared in front of Number 4 Privet Drive, having returned to his office from an extended journey outside of Hogwarts to find his intruments going haywire, showing that Harry was gone from his safe home. As Dumbledore appeared, his eyes widened in shock at the sight in front of him. Dried blood and splintered bone covered the driveway, and Dumbledore could still sense the residual traces of dark magic, although time had eroded the residue enough that he couldn't tell who had done the deed. Starting to panic, he ran up to the house's door, which was still unlocked. Entering, Dumbledore saw the floor covered in sawdust and wood splinters embedded in the wall. The door to a cupboard under the stairs was blasted to pieces, allowing Dumbledore to see the remnants of a pile of rags that seemed to be a bed, as well as the name "Harry" carved into the wood of the cupboard wall. Running upstairs, Dumbledore soon beheld the fate of the man and woman of the house. Petunia Dursley's severed head, which already had flies buzzing around it, lay next to the rest of her body, a muggle weapon, a 'gun' if Dumbledore remembered correctly, clutched in her hands. The bed and floor were coated in dried blood, likely the remains of her husband. Dumbledore recalled that the Dursleys had a son in addition to Harry staying at their house. That was likely the source of the remains outside. There was no doubt about it, someone, likely one of Voldemort's followers, had gotten past the protections around Privet Drive, and had killed the Durselys before kidnapping Harry. Apparating out of the house to his office, his status as headmaster allowing him to bypass the anti-apparition wards, he quickly checked over his instruments. Most of them were now useless, and the one tracking Harry's location was offline, but the one indicating Harry's health was still active, and showing that, aside from a few injuries, Harry was mostly unharmed! Dumbledore sighed in relief. Perhaps the boy had managed to escape the man who had kidnapped him, likely through accidental magic. Now, all that remained was to find him. Walking over to the floo, Dumbledore prepared to call on his contacts throughout Britain. He needed to find Harry, or all would be lost.<p>

**A/N: Thus ends the first chapter of Controlling Darkness. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and will continue to read as the story continues.**

**Just to make a few things clear, Harry will NOT be an 'Elemental Mage', nor will I try to blatantly overpower him. However, on the flipside, Harry will not be a normal, run of the mill wizard either due to what he will read in the Encyclopedia Arcanum, giving him a unique understanding of magic and causing him to perform his spells differently, sometimes to his detriment. He will be more powerful than the average wizard, simply due to him being the protagonist, but he will not be more powerful than say, Dumbledore or Voldemort at eleven years old. In a fight between them, his chief advantage would be his understanding of magic, giving him an edge in terms of unpredictability, but Voldemort and Dumbledore both have experience and the power of a fully matured magical core, while Harry's still has to grow before he is capable of outputting enough magic in order to match an adult wizard in terms of raw power.**

**Next is the issue of wealth. Many fics give Harry billions of galleons in multiple high profile vaults. This will not happen here. He has access to the Potter vault at the moment, and unless he decides to research his heritage, it will be the only vault he has access to. This is due in part due to me not wanting to make this story too sue-some, and partially because I really can't be assed to look for or make up complex family trees in order to give Harry half of all the gold in the wizarding world. Some things from canon, however, will remain the same, such as Harry being set to inherit the Black family fortune and his being the Heir of Slytherin through magic, but I won't go out of my way to give him the full set of founders.**

**Next comes the issue of pairings. There will be no slash pairings, and Harry will not be shipped with anyone during his first year. Eleven year old boys, at least in my opinion, are still getting out of the 'Girls are icky' stage, and Harry, due to his childhood, simply doesn't care for the other sex, although later on, hormones might change his opinion, but that won't happen at until third year at the very least.**

**The final issue that comes to mind off the top of my head is the relationship between Harry and Dumbledore. Dumbledore will be good in this story, although he will still have much of the manipulative tendencies that most fanfic writers seem to love giving him. Then again, that is kind of canon, as Dumbledore obviously was planning Harry's death from at least fourth year on, steering Harry in the direction of a Martyr. IMHO, this is due to Dumbledore's experiences in the war against Grindlewald. After all, Grindlewald was, without a doubt, the most dangerous dark lord in Europe, having all but started WWII, and while Voldemort was arguably more dangerous, his reign of terror seems to have been limited primarily to England. Regardless, Dumbledore, while he defeated Grindlewald, he was far from the only wizard fighting in the war, and Dumbledore, without a doubt, lost many people to said war, growing to believe that sacrifices must be made for the greater good, thus his treatment of Harry as a sacrificial lamb in order to destroy Voldemort's final, secret horcrux. After all, there is no way he could have truly known that Harry would survive the AK a second time, nor would he be sure that Voldemort would use the AK to kill Harry, as the AK would target the soul, and thus the horcrux, while had Voldemort used a bloodier curse, like the Exsanguinator, it wouldn't have been Harry's soul that was destroyed, but rather his body. Come to think of it, Dumbledore's plan was full of holes and What if? scenarios that could have caused it to fail. Example: What if Voldemort decided to keep Harry alive as bait for the rest of the resistance, and then killed them as they tried to rescue him, before finally killing Harry after torturing him with how he was used to kill his friends. Anyway, Harry will be the subject of manipulations by Dumbledore, either for his own supposed good, or for the supposed greater good, although that line won't be overused. I'm so sick of hearing Dumbledore's obsession with the greater good taken to the extreme, in fact, I'm almost tempted to write a fic where Dumbledore gets sent into the 40k verse and joins up with the Tau for the greater good.**

**Anyway, that's all the issues I can think of off the top of my head, and I hope you enjoy the story! Ciao!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A much changed Harry Potter exited the apothecary in Diagon Alley, bag full of potions ingredients in his hands. Where, only three and a half years before, stood a scrawny, malnutritioned boy, Harry was now looking much more like a ten going on eleven boy, although he was still a little on the short side. The scrawniness, however, was completely gone, partially due to Harry eating better, as well as due to the slow changes induced by Harry's limited vampirism, which had begun to have noticeable effects on him, such as his eyes now being flecked with tiny bits of gold and seeming to glow faintly in the dark, although his pupils hadn't yet changed into their eventual catlike form. In addition, Harry was surprisingly strong for a boy of his size, although it was still within the range of normality, unlike the noticeably superhuman strength that fully turned vampires possessed. His skin had paled as well, and the sun, while it would most likely never be deadly to him, still caused an uncomfortable itching sensation that would only grow worse with time. Partially in response to this, Harry used a combination of cosmetic charms and time to straighten and grow out his hair, which now covered the nape of his neck and made the hot summer days much more bearable to him, when it would be much more conspicuous to wear a hood to cover his exposed skin. After all, while Harry would never have to truly fear the sun, it didn't mean that he was completely immune to discomfort, and he found that longer hair was a perfectly good trade in exchange for not having the constant sensation of spiders crawling all over the back of his neck. As for his tastes, Harry had developed the predicted liking of blood pops, and, while he didn't particularly thirst for blood, he found that it had quite a pleasant taste, at least to him.

Handing his load to Dudley, who now looked much scrawnier and decrepit, Harry grabbed his servant's hand and portkeyed home, upon which he took back the bag and went down to his house's basement.

At first glance, the basement seemed normal, at least for a wizarding household. A large cauldron sat in one corner of the room, with a small table beside it covered in vials and ingredients, as well as a journal covered in detailed notes, above which lay a shelf holding several choice books on potions. On the other side of the cauldron, a large set of shelves covered in spatial expansion runes held hundreds of jars filled to the brim with ingredients. Harry had done the runes on the shelves himself, and they were rather crude by the Encyclopedia's standards, simply expanding the shelves back by half a meter, and they needed recharging on a monthly basis. Even arrays as crude as those had taken Harry nearly a year to get right, and he was proud of them, regardless of the fancy 'self sustaining runic matrices' that the Encyclopedia harped on and on about.

The cauldron itself was steaming gently as the mixture within boiled, ready for the next stage of the potion Harry was readying to brew. After all, tomorrow was his birthday, and Harry wanted to get the recipe just right by then.

The potion he was trying to make was intended to hide Harry's more vampiric characteristics, such as his eyes, which were now flecked with pale yellow, and his fangs, which were starting to emerge, although they wouldn't be truly noticeable for another two or three years by Harry's estimates. Harry had, through extensive experimentation on subjects that he had kidnapped from Knockturn, managed to create a drinkable potion that achieved the desired effects, but in the process had a number of negative side effects, including but not limited to, the skin sloughing off, the blood boiling, and, in one unfortunate case, the brain melting out of the unfortunate test subject's ears. Harry had gone through at least ten insane vampires in this way, and still had another two locked away behind a false cabinet in the back of the basement.

Dropping in the shredded boomslang skin,(an ingredient commonly used in many body changing potions such as Polyjuice) this time only three pinches instead of four like he did in the last potion (which caused the test subject to die as his fangs grew backwards into his own skull, but other than that, nothing happened, which meant Harry was getting close,) Harry then stirred the potion, three times clockwise, once counterclockwise, before putting out the fire below the cauldron and beginning to wait. The potion would need to cool for five minutes, before the final ingredient, namely the blood of the drinker, would need to be added.

Humming softly to himself, Harry walked over to the false cabinet, pushed open the door, and looked at the sleeping vampire tied to a table. Pulling out a knife, Harry quickly slit open the subject's wrist and collected approximately twelve drops, before he healed the injury and turned to leave. A groan from one of the cells in the room alerted Harry to one of the test subjects, this one being a middle aged witch Harry had captured in Knockturn, waking from their spell induced slumber.

"Please... I'll pay you anything you want, just let me go!" The witch groaned. Harry chuckled at that, having heard the speech many times before, and fired a sleeping spell at the prisoner, who then lost consciousness. Exiting, Harry walked back to the cauldron, noticing that he still had three minutes to go, and waited.

When the time passed, Harry sprang into action, bottling the potion before adding the blood into the bottle one drop at a time until the mud brown potion turned into a light violet. Harry nodded approvingly at the shade, it being several shades lighter than his previous attempt, and was perfectly in line with his arithmantic calculations as to the result.

Levitating some of the potion into a vial, Harry walked back to the test room and, with a wave of his hand, woke the poor vampire on the table. It immediately began to thrash at its bindings, hissing and frothing at the mouth. Tutting in disapproval, Harry called to Dudley, who ambled down the stairs into the testing room. Ordering his servant to keep the vampire's head still, Harry poured the vial into the vampire's mouth, and watched the results. The vampire's movements slowed, and the fangs flowed like water for a few moments before they stopped, looking for all the world like normal canines. Prying open one of the vampires' eyes, Harry saw that the pupil was back to normal, and the once yellow eyes had become a light brown. Then, about five seconds after the potion was taken, the vampire began to thrash again, hissing and frothing like before, but now without any physical characteristics that distinguished it as a vampire. Seeing that its mentality was unchanged, and completing a scan for side effects which turned out negative, Harry nodded and attached a pair of monitoring devices to the vampire's fangs, which would mark down when they grew back. Pulling out a Post-it note, one of the most useful inventions ever to come out of the muggle world, at least in Harry's opinion, he wrote down the time that the potion was administered, the effects of said potion, and a quick rune that would make the card glow in the dark so that it would be easier to spot. Then, after waving his hand over the rune to charge it, Harry strode out of the room, sealing it behind him. He then bottled the rest of the potion and put it into another creation of his, which he called the Stasis cabinet.

The Stasis cabinet was the result of several months of hard work with runes, and was Harry's first successful attempt at creating a self sustaining runic matrix, which was a rune, or cluster of runes, that gathered the ambient magic in the air around them and used it to power itself. It had its limits, such as it only working in a magic saturated area such as Diagon Alley, or Harry's basement workshop, and it was extremely difficult to get right, taking Harry nearly two weeks to get right, as he constantly had to undo and redo his carving in order to get each angle and line perfectly measured. Should he make even a single mistake, the rune would not work, or would work improperly.

During his studies, Harry had learned that, contrary to popular belief, runes were not a single language, or even a set of languages. The named runes that were in common use were simply the most simple way of obtaining a desired effect. An example of this was _Hagalaz, _which stood for 'Hail', and would produce an effect that, depending on its magic charge and the precision with which it was made, varied from simply cooling an area to freezing all water within a certain radius from the rune. However, Harry had read in the Runes volume of Encylcopedia Arcanum that runes were not letters, and the effects came from the precise arrangement of the lines that composed the rune. Thus, Harry could make a more complicated version of _Hagalaz _that would produce a more predictable effect, such as freezing all water in a 3x3x3 centimeter cube exactly one meter in front of the rune. Of course, the lines alone carried no magic, as they would need to be filled with magic via another medium, such as runic ink, or, in Harry's case, a thick, blue, gelatinous potion that acted as a magical battery once solidified. Harry would then drip the potion into the runes he carved into the wood, making sure to completely level the potion until it was flush with the wood of the cabinet, and then magically dry the result. Should he make the rune perfectly, the result would place the interior of the cabinet in temporal stasis. Of course, he didn't have to make it completely perfect, because even if he had made a few mistakes with his measurements, the rune would have still kept the area within in a near stasis, which would have still preserved the contents, but Harry would accept nothing less than perfection in his work, which would often draw out projects that should have taken a day, or a week at most, into month long labors.

A satisfied smile on his face, Harry cleaned out the cauldron and set out the ingredients for the runic potion, which he would be brewing the following morning. Then, he went upstairs, intending to eat dinner, only to find an owl fluttering around outside the door, a letter tied to its feet. Opening the door, the owl flew inside, dropped off the letter, and then perched itself on the railing leading upstairs, obviously waiting for a reply.

Opening the letter, Harry quickly read through it, immediately seeing that it was his Hogwarts acceptance letter. He had discussed it, and Hogwarts in general, with Arnold the day before, and had come to the agreement that the school would teach Harry nothing but outdated rubbish, especially with the curriculum having been gutted of anything even remotely 'dark' after Voldemort's reign of terror, leaving behind an incomplete curriculum that caused Hogwarts to drop in standing from being the best wizarding school in Europe to being third best, and Harry wasn't yet old enough to travel internationally, thus putting Durmstrang, the new best school, out of the realm of possibilities. Thus, Harry had resigned himself to attending Hogwarts.

Reading through the letter, Harry quickly took stock of the supplies he did and didn't have. He had the robes and pointed hat, although the last hadn't seen any use since he had gotten it for free as part of a package deal with Madam Malkin the year before. The dragonhide gloves were still on his hands after the potion making session, and the winter cloak was in the closet. As for the books, he had bought most of them over the years, before discarding many of them as worthless. Ordering Dudley to find them and pile them by the exit, Harry read on through the list. He had the cauldron, phials, scales, and other potions equipment already bought. The telescope, however, he would need to buy himself, and Harry had never bothered to buy a wand, seeing as he hadn't needed one for his magic. As for a pet, Harry decided on an owl, simply because they were actually useful, unlike the cat, which would just sit around and mew for attention, while a toad wouldn't even do that, and would only be useful for potion ingredients.

Then, something caught his eye at the end of the letter. It stated that a Hogwarts professor would be coming to visit him the next day to help him 'get used to the wizarding world'. Harry laughed at that, as he had been living in said world since he was seven. With that in mind, Harry quickly penned a reply, using a ballpoint pen and regular muggle paper, both of which he found more convenient than their wizarding equivalents, although they were rather difficult to acquire in Diagon, necessitating a visit to the muggle world. He then gave the reply to the owl, which seemed rather impatient, and it flew away as soon as the letter was in its beak.

Harry ate lunch quickly, and then went out into Diagon Alley to buy the required materials. The telescope was bought first, along with an expanded trunk to carry things in, before Harry dropped by Eyelops' Owl Emporium, leaving with a Great Grey Owl that he named Arnold, after the man who had become somewhat of a father to him in his time in the wizarding world. That done with, Harry went off to buy his wand, ordering Dudley to take his purchases home in the meantime. He had two choices, neither of which mattered to him, as he did his magic wandlessly. He could either go to a shop in Knockturn, where the wands wouldn't have the trace on them, thus allowing him to perform magic with a wand without the ministry knowing, or he could go to Ollivanders, where the wands were traced, but the available wand selection was much larger, the wands were cheaper (not to mention legal). Deciding to save money, Harry decided to go to Ollivanders, as the trace wouldn't work on wandless magic.

However, as Harry walked up to the store, a familiar blonde boy exited the store, parents in tow and a wooden stick in his hand. Harry was spotted almost immediately, causing the boy's delighted face to darken in anger.

"YOU!" The blonde screamed, pointing the wand at Harry, screaming an incantation that Harry recognized as the latin version of the stinging hex. Harry simply leaned to one side, and the spell rocketed past him. Another two charms were sent at him, both of which were dodged, before Harry began to get annoyed with the blonde. Raising his right hand, Harry pointed two fingers at the boy like a muggle handgun and fired off a pair of puncturing curses in rapid succession, one from the upper finger, the other from the lower. Although it wasn't discussed in detail in the Encyclopedia, Harry had realized that he could fire off multiple spells at once, provided that they took different pathways out of the body, the same pathway couldn't be used more than once without being given a short time to vent any magical energy that could have accumulated from lack of focus, otherwise the second spell would be altered by the residual magic that hadn't yet been dispersed. Thus, one spell took a path that would exit from one finger, while the other took a second path that would exit the other finger. Technically, Harry knew that he could have exited the spells from different points on the same finger, but he had discovered that it was much more difficult to do when the exit points were so much closer together, and thus decided that it was more trouble than it was worth, hence the two fingers pointed at the blonde.

A smirk grew on Harry's face as the blonde dodged out of the first curse's way only for the second one to hit, the curse causing him to fall to the ground in pain, clutching at his stomach, where the curse had hit. Harry frowned at that. He had aimed for the head, after all.

Walking up to the boy, Harry once again aimed his fingers at the boy, this time almost touching the boy's hair. This time, he wouldn't miss. However, before he could fire, a cane rapped him on the forehead. Looking up, Harry saw the older blonde's cane aimed straight between his eyes.

"Well done, but I would rather you not killed my son today. Rest assured that Draco will be punished for disgracing the Malfoy family in this manner." The man said. Harry withdrew his hand, although the boy, Draco, was far from being out of danger. After all, the magic wasn't limited to exiting from the fingers, as Harry had learned, although it was easier for Harry to direct the magic out of his fingertips than it was for him to so out of other areas of his body. He could cast with ease out of his hands, fingers, and eyes, although that last option would end up with him going blind in the eye used to cast for a short period of time, especially for the magics that produced visual effects to denote their path, for obvious reasons.

"Thank you. I will take my leave now. Come, Narcissa." The man said, before he hauled up Draco by the scruff of his neck and dragged the boy away. With the Malfoys out of his way, Harry proceeded into Ollivander's. Once inside, he saw an old man putting various sticks away into boxes, muttering about 'Damn kids making a mess of things'.

"Hello?" Harry asked. The man's eyes snapped up, meeting with Harry's. Immediately, Harry felt something tugging at his mind, and he hurriedly looked away. While he had read about mind arts, he hadn't done much in that field other than find out how to detect mental intrusions and organize his own mind through meditation. What he had not done, however, was set up any mental defenses.

"Ah, Harry Potter! Welcome to my shop. Looking for your wand, I presume? No matter, I'm sure that we will find one that suits you in here. After all, it seems like it was only yesterday when I sold your parents their first wands!" Ollivander said.

"Um-" Harry began, intending to inquire about the legilimency used on him, but Ollivander cut him off.

"Now, if you would stand here so I can take your measurements." Harry stood at the indicated location, and immediately a series of tape measures began to fly around him, measuring every inch of him.

"How does this help with getting me a wand?" Harry asked.

"It helps with finding any abnormalities that could affect your magic." Ollivander replied off handedly. Soon, the tape measures were finished, and Ollivander went towards one of the walls, pulling out a box and handing it to Harry.

"Fourteen inches, Ash and Unicorn Hair." Ollivander said, handing the wand to Harry. As soon as he grabbed it though, Harry dropped it in shock. When he held the wand, his magic suddenly seemed to develop a mind of its own and almost funnel itself towards the wand in his hand! It was not a pleasant feeling by any means.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Harry asked.

"What?" Ollivander asked in turn.

"That... that draining feeling! What was that?" Harry asked.

"Interesting. You seem to be much more in tune with your magic than other kids your age. That feeling was the wand doing its job, but that is not the wand for you. Now, due to you being more aligned with your magic, you should have an easier time finding a wand suitable for you. Could you, perhaps, release your magic and use it to inspect the wands? Try to find one that seems to call for you. Of course, if you cannot do so, we can still find you a wand the normal way, but it will take longer." Ollivander said.

Closing his eyes, Harry focused on his magic. He could indeed perform the technique Ollivander described, having used it to check potion ingredients for impurities before he purchased them. However, as soon as he began to release his magic, it began to come into contact with the wands in the various boxes. Most of them were, thankfully inert to him, but some of the wands began to drain his magic as soon as it came into contact with them. In response, he quickly pulled away, causing the wands to spark briefly, or, in a few cases, explode out of their containers and rocket across the room. However, Harry didn't feel any of the wands 'calling to him' as Ollivander had said they would.

Soon, Harry had enough and opened his eyes.

"None of the wands match." He said simply, causing Ollivander's eyebrows to furrow in thought.

"Well then, it seems as if you are one of those people then. You may require a more... exotic wand. Come with me." Ollivander said, and Harry followed the old man into a back room. A large table took up most of the room, with various wands lying about on it in various states of completion.

"Here is where I experiment with more... exotic wand types. Nonstandard cores, multiple cores, unusual components and designs, that sort of thing. Take that one over there, for instance." Ollivander gestured towards a wand that seemed to be cut in half. "I used two hairs from the same unicorn in that one. It's useless though. Cores cancel each other out as soon as a spell is cast. Now, can you look at this shelf over here?" Ollivander gestured towards a shelf with various wands lying about on it. "Over there are the more unusual wands I've made that seem to actually work, although they are quite willful. Occasionally I get a customer that needs one of those rather than the usual. Go on, have a look."

Harry obliged, extending his magic and scanning each wand in turn. All but one of the wands on the shelf were inert, but the last one... Harry walked over to it and picked it up. It didn't attempt to drain his magic, but it also clearly interacted with it, as Harry felt his magic gently extend towards it, forming a connection between wand and wizard.

"How much for this one?" Harry turned to Ollivander.

"Let me see... Yew and Thestral hair, nearly inflexible, a rather willful combination. You're going to need a lot of mental focus to use this, but it might just work for you. That would be ten galleons, if you please." Ollivander said. Harry quickly paid and all but ran out of the store, eager to be away from those wands. His shopping done, Harry returned home.

* * *

><p>The next day, Harry woke up early, wanting to brew the rune potion as soon as he could, preferably before the Hogwarts professor arrived. Thankfully, it would only take an hour or so to brew, so it shouldn't take too long. However, Harry quickly remembered that Dudley's state might cause the professor to object, and ordered Dudley to make himself scarce for the rest of the day. His cousinservant promptly retreated into the sealed room.

Quickly eating breakfast, Harry retreated to the basement, setting the cauldron to boil. Unfortunately, it seemed as if luck wasn't with him, as there was a knock on his door just as the water started to boil. Sighing, Harry ran upstairs, still wearing his potion making gear.

Opening the door, Harry saw a tall, thin, greasy haired man standing outside, a scowl on his face.

"I assume you are the professor they sent to 'introduce me to wizarding society'?" Harry asked.

"I am. You are to come with me, Potter." The man said.

"I'm sorry, but I would rather not. You see, I'm in the middle of brewing a potion, and I would rather not come back to see the house burnt down." Harry replied, trying to get the professor to leave. Unfortunately for him, it was not to be.

"And why would a boy like yourself need to brew a potion?" The man asked.

"It's a storage medium for runic magics. I ran out a few days ago, and will need some more for my next project." Harry replied truthfully. He had, after all, bought a trunk the previous day, and wanted to put some preservation and fireproofing runes on it.

"Runes are not taught until the third year, so you are obviously lying. Come with me, now. I do not approve of people wasting my time, Potter." Snape replied, a sneer on his face.

"If you need proof, feel free to come in. Otherwise, I would like to say the same to you. I do not approve of my time being wasted." Harry said, before turning and walking back to the basement. Hearing footsteps behind him, Harry knew that the professor was following, and smiled.

Ignoring the professor's presence behind him, Harry walked up to the now boiling cauldron, picking up a measured portion of powdered doxy eggs as he did so. Adding it into the cauldron, Harry stirred fifteen times clockwise, before turning and readying the next ingredient, which was a suspension of sapphire dust in nightshade extract, which Harry mixed a few times, before adding in seven drops. As expected, the potion became thick and viscous, changing color to a deep blue. Waving his hand to make the cauldron start stirring automatically and set up a timer for the next ingredient's insertion, Harry turned to the professor, who was staring at the cauldron, as well as the various books above the ingredients table, with intense interest.

"Do you believe me now, Professor?" Harry asked.

"It seems that you do indeed have some talent for the art, Potter. I am Professor Severus Snape, and I will be teaching your potions class. Remember that this display will gain you nothing in class. Don't expect any favoritism from me in my class, celebrity or not. Now, is there anything else you wish to tell me, or shall I take my leave? It is obvious that you do not need to be introduced to our world." Snape replied, spitting out the compliment as if every word were a particularly disgusting poison.

"Just one quick question. How do I get to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Go to King's Cross station and find the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, then walk straight at the barrier. If you are indeed a wizard, you should pass through it into platform 9 and 3/4. You then board the Hogwarts Express and go from there. Anything else?" Snape asked.

"Nothing, sir." Harry said, just as the timer rang, after which he turned and added six more drops of the sapphire suspension. By the time he had turned back, Snape was already gone.

* * *

><p>The last few weeks before Harry left for Hogwarts went by in a blur. Finally, the day of departure arrived, and Harry left the house, trunk in tow. Dudley had been ordered to keep the house clean, and to feed himself once a day. Simple enough.<p>

Catching a taxi to King's Cross, Harry drew a few odd looks due to his appearance, as he hadn't bothered to change out of his robes, but he ignored them, instead proceeding to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, trolley with his belongings in hand. His owl drew some looks, but he ignored them and quickly reached the barrier. Taking a deep breath, Harry ran towards it, closing his eyes as he did so, and instead of the impact that would have happened had it been a normal wall, Harry opened his eyes to an old fashioned train station, inside which a scarlet steam engine waited to depart, while students boarded the cars behind it. Harry soon boarded the train, finding an empty compartment in which to sit, and promptly opened his trunk, removing the useless school textbooks in favor of the prize underneath, namely the ritual volume of Encyclopedia Arcanum, and began to read.

_The most important thing to know before performing a ritual is that all rituals require a sacrifice. It could be something as simple as a few drops of blood ranging to the sacrifice of hundreds of innocents. What makes this necessary is the fact that it is not the caster's magic that is being used, but rather it is the ambient magic of the world, which is awakened by the sacrifice..._

Harry continued to read, paying no heed to time passing by, until finally the train started to move, causing him to put the book down as he watched the train pull out of the station. Then, Harry returned to his reading, only to be interrupted several minutes later by a redheaded boy with a smudged nose opening the door and inviting himself in.

"Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full, thanks." The boy said, sitting down.

"I don't recall allowing you to sit here." Harry replied.

"Are you really Harry Potter? I'm Ron, Ron Weasley by the way." The boy asked, ignoring Harry's dismissal.

"Leave me alone." Harry replied.

"Do you really have the scar?"

"Leave me alone."

"Can I see it?"

At that, Harry snapped.

"GET OUT!" Harry shouted, pointing towards the door, just as a certain blonde made his way down the train, his two cronies in tow.

"I heard Harry Potter was in he- YOU!" Malfoy shouted, drawing his wand.

"Yes, it's me. Now get out. You and the redhead." Harry said. Neither moved.

"Malfoy! What are you doing here?" The redhead asked.

"Red hair and a hand me down robe? You must be another Weasley. Tell me where Harry Potter is, and I'll let you off, just this once." Malfoy said.

"He's right in front of you!" Weasley shouted.

"Get out, both of you, or I'll toss you off the train myself!" Harry shouted.

"Harry, this kid's a dark wizard! Don't trust him!" Weasley shouted.

"You should keep your mouth shut, or you'll get dirt in it while you're grubbing for money on the ground, Weasel." Malfoy snarled. "Now, Mr. Potter, I believe we've got off on the wrong foot. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, and you are?"

"Don't listen to him Harry!" Ron shouted.

"Shut up Weasley, the people who matter are talking." Malfoy replied.

"Both of you. Get. Out." Harry snarled.

"Make me!" Malfoy shouted.

"Harry, stick close to me and he won't hurt us. I'll protect you!" Weasley declared. That insinuation of weakness caused Harry to snap and raise his hand, firing off a puncturing curse at point blank range. It hit Weasley's shoulder, causing him to collapse in tears, while blood flowed freely from the wound Harry had caused.

Stepping on the fallen boy's face, Harry snarled.

"I don't need your protection Weasel. Now get out!" Harry then flung the boy out of the compartment, where he stumbled to his feet, face scrunched up in pain.

"You'll get yours!" He shouted, before stumbling away. Harry turned to face Malfoy.

"Well, now that the trash has been dealt with, let's talk." Malfoy said.

"I'm not interested." Harry replied. "Get out before I make you."

"We'll see about that! Crabbe! Goyle! Teach him a lessAAARGH!" Malfoy never had a chance to finish, before a pair of bludgeoning curses flew through the air and sent him flying out of the compartment. Malfoy stood, clutching his face, where both curses had hit, one having shattered several teeth, while the other had broken the boy's nose.

"Wait until my father hears about this, Potter! I'll have your head!" With those words, Malfoy stormed off, leaving Harry behind in peace and quiet, but not for long. Soon, there came a knock at his compartment door.

Harry opened it to find two robe clad girls standing outside, one tall and blonde haired, while the other was shorter and brown haired.

"Excuse me, but I noticed this compartment is mostly empty. Do you mind if we sit here? This blonde git and his two pet trolls just kicked us out of our old compartment." The taller of the two girls asked.

"Was that blonde named Malfoy, by any chance?" Harry asked.

"Yes. He looked like he got into a fistfight with one of his big friends. Were you by any chance responsible?" The shorter of the two asked.

"Yeah, I did it. Now, you can sit here so long as you are quiet. Am I clear?" Harry asked.

"Crystal." The taller girl said, and Harry moved aside, allowing them in. Then, he sat down on the side opposite of theirs and took out his book again and continued to read. He noticed the older of the two girls scrutinizing him, but ignored her, at least until another knock came at the door.

"Excuse me? Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one." The bossy tone shook Harry out of his concentration and he looked up. A girl about his age with brown, curly hair stood in the doorway, simply radiating the word 'know-it-all'.

"Have you tried a summoning charm?" One of the girls in the compartment asked.

"We're not supposed to perform magic until we reach Hogwarts, so I couldn't possibly do that. Besides, that isn't taught until halfway through the first year!" The girl looked like she was about to continue, when Harry stood up.

"We have not seen the toad. Now, I would appreciate it if you gave us some peace and quiet." He said, before he realized that he had made a mistake when the girl's eyes shot towards the scar that, while it had faded somewhat, still was present on his forehead.

"You're Harry Potter! I've read all about you! You're in '_Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts', _and '_Great Wizards and Witches of the 20th Century'!_

"Yes, yes, I'm Harry Potter, I've heard the story before. Now please, stop bothering me and go find the stupid toad." Harry said.

"But I-"

"OUT!" Harry shouted, causing the girl to 'hmph' and leave. Harry closed the compartment door, before opening his trunk and taking out a pouch with his runemaking kit. Opening it, he took out a penknife, a protractor, and a vial of runic paste, before he began to carve a locking rune on the doorframe, using what he remembered of his time creating the secret room in his house's basement as a guide. The two girls watched in curiosity as Harry carved the rune, waving his hand and undoing lines every once in a while, before, fifteen minutes later, he was finished. Then, he spread the runic paste into the carving, leveling it out as he did so, until the rune was complete. Then, he closed his eyes and poured magic into the rune, causing it to glow as it energized. Then, process completed, he put his supplies away and tested the door. It didn't budge from its closed position. Smiling in satisfaction, Harry turned to the girls.

"There, no no-one will bother us. If you have any questions about 'the great Harry Potter', please voice them now." Harry said. The taller of the two spoke first.

"What did you just do?"

"It's a rune that keeps the door stuck in place so no-one will open it until I de-energize it." Harry replied.

"Why didn't you just lock the door?" The shorter of the two asked, pointing towards the lock. Harry looked down, saw the lock, and his face met palm. The girls giggled.

"Anyway, we haven't introduced ourselves, have we? I'm Daphne Greengrass, and she is Tracey Davis. I assume you are Harry Potter, right?" The taller of the two, Daphne, asked.

"You are correct in your assumption." Harry said, sitting back down after locking the door as an extra precaution.

"That's good to know then." Daphne said, before quieting down. After a minute of silence, Harry picked up his book again, intending to continue from where he left off. It was then that Daphne spoke again.

"You do realize that rituals are considered dark magic, right?" Daphne asked.

"I have performed a few already then, does that make me a dark wizard?" Harry asked.

"Legally, yes, you are considered dark, but let's keep that our own little secret, shall we? I mean, so have I. Most pureblood families do, after all, celebrate Samhain and the various solstices with rituals." Daphne replied.

"Good. Not having to dispose of loose ends always makes things simpler." Harry replied, causing Daphne and Tracey to chuckle nervously.

"That's nice to know, Harry. Now, judging by the rune and rituals, you already know some magic, right?" Tracey asked.

"More than you know." Harry replied curtly.

"No need to be rude now, Harry. Sheesh!" Tracey replied.

"So what do you know?" Daphne asked.

"Look in my trunk, under all the junk they made us buy for first year courses, and you'll see what I've been learning from since I found out I had magic." Harry said, gesturing towards the trunk. It flipped open, before Harry levitated out the books on top, revealing the Encyclopedia Arcanum series in all its glory.

"Encyclopedia Arcanum? I've never heard of it." Daphne said.

"That's because you're looking at the only set in existence. I bought it at a good friend of mine's shop down in Knockturn Alley, and it's taught me everything I know." Harry said. By then, Daphne had flipped open the introductory volume and was reading the tale behind the books. It was then that the door was rattled several times, and Harry heard voices outside.

"Allright, it's not opening up. Ready Fred?" One voice asked.

"Ready George! 3... 2... 1... _Bombarda!_" With that, two voices shouted as one, and the door exploded into a cloud of dust. As it cleared, Harry saw four redheads, the youngest of which looked familiar.

"That's him! That's the dark wizard who attacked me!" The youngest Weasley shouted, pointing his finger at Harry.

"You have three seconds to get out, Weasley." Harry snarled. "Three..."

"Oi, firstie! We're here to..." One of the medium sized redheads started.

"...teach you a lesson!" The other finished.

"Two..."

"Nobody hurts a Weasley..."

"...and gets away with it!"

"One..."

"For attacking a student, I will be having words with Professor McGonnagall. What have you to say in your defense?" The tallest Weasley butted in.

"GET OUT!" Harry screamed, raising his hand and unleashing a torrent of bludgeoning curses. The first two hit Ron in the face, sending him to the ground. The next two hit the tallest one before he could draw his wand, one curse impacting his nose, the other flying low and slamming right between his legs, causing him to collapse to the ground, moaning in pain. That was when the two medium Weasleys fired off their first shots. One missed, hitting a wall, covering it with a patch of blue paint. The other also missed, but hit Tracey, who fell to the ground face first, trapped in a full body bind. The Weasley twins never got a chance to continue their assault though, as Harry had fired a bludgeoning curse and a severing charm at one twin's genitals, the second of which barely missed, while Daphne managed to land a lucky stinging hex in the other boy's eye, before running over to him and kneeing him between the legs, causing him to collapse, groaning to the ground. Turning to Tracey, Harry levitated her to an upright position, before turning to Daphne.

"Do you know how to undo this?" Harry asked.

"You mean you don't know? You know wandless magic but not how to undo a full body bind?" Daphne asked incredulously.

"No, I don't know how to undo this on someone else, and wandless magic is pretty easy with the right state of mind, for your information." Harry replied.

"Well, I don't know either. Lay her down on the seat, will you?" Daphne said, and Harry obliged.

"Now, shall I dispose of them?" Harry asked, gesturing to the unconscious Weasleys.

"As much as I hate to say it, people will notice if four Weasleys suddenly disappear on the train. I want to kill them as much as you do right now, but we're not Gryffindors, charging in without knowing the consequences. We'll wait for them to slip up, then we'll make them suffer an unfortunate... accident." Daphne said, a smirk on her face.

"Agreed, but what is a Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"You don't know? Whatever. Hogwarts is divided into four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Gryffindor is supposed to be the house of the brave, but in reality it's just the place where they put the brawn over brains idiots like the Weasleys so they don't feel bad. Hufflepuff is supposedly the house of the loyal and hardworking, but really it's just the land of the sheep whom the hat can't be arsed to actually sort. Ravenclaw isn't too bad, at least. It's the house of the intelligent, a bit antisocial, mind you, but Ravenclaws always top the school in terms of academic scores. Finally there's Slytherin, where I'm going. It's the place of ambition, where all the people that matter in the world go. Of course, the Gryffindorks hate Slytherins because they wish they could be as powerful as us. They say it's a place for Dark wizards and witches, and it's true to an extent, as most of the people in Slytherin are purebloods who still practice the old ways, which are considered dark now thanks to Voldemort. Do you understand?" Daphne explained.

"Yes, but what was that about a hat?" Harry asked.

"You'll see soon enough. It's supposedly a way of deciding which house you're getting into, but it's easy enough to fool. Just think that you like snakes and want to be rich and famous someday and it'll pick Slytherin. That's where I'm going, at least. How about you?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know. Ravenclaw sounds nice, but everyone there will probably drive me insane with questions. Gryffindor, if that's where the Weasleys are, I'm not going there. As for Hufflepuff, I think I stand out enough to avoid it, don't you think?" Harry quipped, causing Daphne to laugh.

"So Slytherin it is?" She asked.

"Looks to be so. Now, when does this train arrive?" Harry asked.

"Couple more hours." Daphne replied, causing Harry to groan.

* * *

><p>It was dark by the time the train arrived at Hogwarts. By then, the Weasleys had dragged themselves away from the compartment, and Tracey had come out of her body bind screaming curses.<p>

Stepping out of the carriage, Harry, Daphne, and Tracey heard a giant, bearded man beckoning first years to get on a group of small boats. Harry was joined in his by Daphne, Tracey, and later on, a boy named Blaise Zabini. Looking around, Harry, saw Malfoy getting into a boat with two oversized boys that reminded Harry of Dudley, as well as a young, brown haired girl that seemed to exude the sense of being a spoiled brat from every pore. Then, coming from the boat next to him, Harry heard Ron talking animatedly about curses and dark wizards. Turning to look at the boy, Harry saw him gesturing wildly towards his injuries while talking to a bushy haired witch and a round faced boy, who shot a glance in his direction every few seconds.

Then, the boats started moving towards the castle visible in the distance, presumably Hogwarts. Harry waited until the docks were out of sight before nudging Daphne and Tracey and pointing at Ron, who was still standing in the boat, which was rocking noticeably from his exaggerated gestures. Taking aim at the boy's head, Harry fired a quick bludgeoning curse, which met its mark perfectly.

A dazed redhead toppled over, falling into the water with a loud 'SPLASH!', causing the boat's other occupants to scream, while the occupants of Harry's and Draco's boats, along with several others, rang with laughter.

"Serves the filthy blood traitor right!" Harry heard a high pitched, girly voice from Malfoy's boat.

"I hope weasels can swim!" Tracey said vindictively, just as Ron's head broke the surface of the lake a good twenty feet behind the rest of the boats.

"Help! I can't swim!" The boy screamed, which caused Harry's boat to laugh all the harder.

"Are you a wizard or not?" Came the shout from Malfoy.

"I don't... know any spells!" Ron shouted in between gulps of air, causing even more laughter. Soon, however, Ron's pleas for help became fainter and fainter, until they faded completely.

"That accidental enough?" Harry whispered to Daphne, causing her to break out in giggles.

Eventually, the boats reached the shore, where they were greeted by a tall, stern looking witch in emerald green robes. The bushy haired witch from Ron's boat immediately jumped out and ran to her.

"Professor! There's been a terrible accident! Ron's fallen off his boat and can't swim!" She gasped out.

"Why didn't you pull him out then?" The Professor asked.

"By the time he surfaced, he was too far away!"

"Are you a witch or not Hermione? You could have just summoned him, could you not? I know you practically memorized your school textbooks!"

"But we're not supposed to do magic until we get to Hogwarts!" At that, the professor sighed.

"Very well. Don't worry, that is why we have the trained giant squid in the lake, after all, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem. In fact, he should be appearing right about... now!" The professor said, just as a giant tentacle broke the water, a screaming Ron in its grip.

The boy lay coughing on the ground where the tentacle deposited him, before standing and pointing his finger at Harry.

"He's the one! He's the dark wizard who knocked me off the boat! I saw him curse me!" Ron declared.

"Your wand please, Mr. Potter." The professor's tone booked no argument. Harry complied, pulling out his wand, which he hadn't touched since he bought it in Ollivander's. Taking it, the professor pulled out her own wand and waved it over Harry's, muttering a set of incantations as she did so. Then, she handed Harry's wand back to him.

"Mr. Potter here has not cast a single spell since he got his wand at Ollivander's, so he could not possibly have knocked you off the boat. Now, Mr. Weasley, you are to apologize to Mr. Potter for your groundless accusation."

"But he can do wandless magic!" Ron shouted back.

"Mr. Weasley, wandless magic can only be done by incredibly powerful wizards like Dumbledore, and even then they can only do it after years of study and hard work. Now, apologize to Mr. Potter."

At that, Harry began to think. If he stuck with the professor's story, then in the likely event that he would use wandless magic in Hogwarts, he could be implicated. However, if he kept his abilities secret, which would be somewhat problematic as he had already gotten used to doing his magic wandlessly, he would have a greater advantage over potential rivals like the Weasleys. Then, after several second, Harry decided on a course of action that would both explain his abilities and get Ron into trouble.

"Acually Professor, I can do wandless magic." Harry said.

"Of course, everyone here has done accidental magic before, but I assure you, that does not count as true wandless magic." The professor replied. In response, Harry held the wand out in the palm of his left hand, before closing his eyes as if in concentration and, with a swish and flick of his wrist, and a loudly incanted "_Wingardium Leviosa", _Harry made the wand rise in the air.

"That... that is incredible Mr. Potter! But how does this prove that you were not responsible for Mr. Weasley's accident? If anything, it weakens your case." The professor exclaimed.

"Yes, but I can swear a magical oath that I didn't utter any spells while I was in the boat. Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise can vouch for me." Harry said.

"Really now? Miss Greengrass, is this true?"

"Yes, Professor McGonnagall, Harry didn't say a single spell while in the boat." Daphne replied, catching on to what Harry was doing.

"That is all well and good, but I noticed that you only said that you didn't utter a single spell on the boat. What would prevent you from doing your magic silently?" Professor McGonnagall turned back to Harry.

"You can do magic silently? I thought that you needed the incantation for it to work!" Harry exclaimed, trying to hold back laughter.

"Yes, it is indeed possible, although it is a highly advanced way of cast... what are you doing?" The professor's eyes widened as Harry closed his own and pretended to concentrate on the wand, but without actually pouring his magic into doing the deed. After several seconds of nothing happening, Harry opened his eyes.

"It's useless. The wand won't move!" He exclaimed in false frustration.

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter. Silent and wandless magic would be difficult even for a wizard like Dumbledore. I now see that it was foolish of me to believe you capable of the feat. Now, Mr. Weasley, apologize to this young man here immediately!"

"But you saw-"

"Now, Weasley! Do not test my patience!"

"Fine. Sorry." Ron choked out the apology as if it had threatened to kill his family.

"Good. Now that that has been dealt with, let us proceed to the great hall." The professor turned around, muttering faintly about prodigies and wandless magic. Harry smirked at Ron, the other boy's face reddening in anger.

"Just you wait, Potter! I'll get you soon!" Ron growled.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that, could you say it again?" Harry asked with a mocking smile.

Before Ron could reply, the group of students reached a set of huge double doors, doubtlessly leading into the Great Hall. Before they could enter, however, Professor McGonnagall turned to them and began to speak.

"Through this door lies the great hall, inside which you will be sorted into your houses. They are: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has produced great witches and wizards, and will be like your family for the duration of your stay here at Hogwarts. Each house's standing will be determined by the amount of house points it has. Following the rules will gain you points, while breaking the rules will lose you points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup. Now, without further ado, let us proceed to the sorting."

With those words, the doors opened, and the first year students proceeded into the great hall, drawing stares from the older students, which were seated at four long tables around the room. Harry assumed that each table must belong to an individual house.

Harry watched as Professor McGonnagall walked up to a large stool, upon which sat a rather ragged looking hat. Then, to his shock, the hat began to sing of all things! He didn't pay attention to the song though, as he was too focused on figuring out just how the hat worked. Of course, he made very little progress before the song stopped, and Professor McGonnagall called the first student, Hannah Abbot, up to be sorted. Harry watched as the hat was placed on her head, and a few seconds later it called out _HUFFLEPUFF!, _and Hannah went off to the table with the yellow and orange robed students, her own robes changing to match.

The next student, a Susan Bones, joined Hannah in Hufflepuff, before Terry Boot became the first Ravenclaw, this time going to the table wearing purple and blue. Vincent Crabbe became the first Slytherin, joining the silver and green clad table, soon being joined there by Tracey Davis, while Hermione Granger, the bossy witch with bushy hair, went to Gryffindor. Daphne Greengrass went into Slytherin, along with Gregory Goyle and Draco Malfoy. Finally, Harry Potter was called, and every eye in the room locked onto the black haired youth.

Walking up to the stool, fully aware of how the room went quiet as his name was called, Harry simply projected an image of nonchalance before putting the hat on his head. He was surprised when he felt something enter his mind.

"You've killed, Harry." A voice spoke in his mind.

"What will you do about it?" Harry thought back.

"I cannot. When Godric Gryffindor made me, he spelled me so that I cannot reveal the secrets of the students I sort. If it weren't for that, I would have attempted to remove you from this school myself for the risk you pose."

"Good. Now, about my sorting?" Harry asked.

"As much as I loathe to do this, let's get down to it." The hat seemed to sigh in Harry's mind. "Hufflepuff is out, and despite the insistence of the powers that be, were I to put you in Gryffindor, there would be murder in the school before long. That leaves Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and you fit both houses perfectly. Your studious nature will ensure your success in Ravenclaw, so I believe it to be the best choice." The hat declared.

"No." Harry replied.

"Ah yes, I assume you are thinking of the bargain you made with young Miss Greengrass on the train, correct? I believe your status as a non-pureblooded wizard would prevent you from achieving your best in Slytherin due to the interference of your peers, so I believe Ravencla-"

"No. Nobody became great through taking the easy route. I am warning you, I am not afraid of killing to get my point across, so if you were to put me into Ravenclaw, you will find a student dead every night until I can go through a re-sorting." Harry threatened.

"I can see you will make good on that threat, and there isn't much I can do to stop you, so I believe that you shall go into _SLYTHERIN!"_ The last word was shouted out, and Harry stood, a smile on his face as the took off the hat and set it down, before heading off and sitting down next to Daphne and Tracey.

"I assume you had to persuade the hat to place you here?" Daphne asked.

"I had to threaten to kill a few Ravenclaws, but the hat relented in the end." Harry replied.

"Really now?" Daphne asked as Ronald Weasley went into Gryffindor.

"Of course. Why would I be lying?" Harry asked, and Daphne laughed.

Finally, the sorting ended when Blaise Zabini went into Slytherin. When the dark skinned boy sat down, the old wizard in the headmaster's chair stood and gave a short speech, reminding the students that the Forbidden Forest was, in fact, Forbidden, that there were several newly forbidden items on the banned items list, and that the third floor corridor on the right hand side was "Forbidden to any who did not wish to die a most painful death."

"He's baiting us, you know." Tracey spoke up as Dumbledore said that. "If that corridor were truly forbidden, he wouldn't have said that, and the corridor wouldn't even be accessible to us."

"Agreed. So, shall we check it out?" Harry asked.

"No. As far as I know, it doesn't really concern us." Daphne said. That was about when food began to appear on the table, and the students began to eat. Right away, the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables exploded into loud conversation, while Ravenclaw and Slytherin stayed mostly silent, Ravenclaw barely eating anything, preferring to engage in quiet discussion, while Slytherin ate in a more refined manner, the conversation ranging from politics to the forbidden corridor. After a few minutes, Daphne nudged him.

"That's disgusting! Just look at him!" She pointed across the room, where Ron was stuffing his face, much to the disgust of Hermione, who was sitting next to him.

"Another opportunity for an accident." Harry smirked, before firing off a well aimed stinging hex. It hit Ron in the chest, making him to gasp in pain, mouth full of food, causing him to start choking on his meal. Ron was soon flailing around, face turning red, when the bushy haired witch next to him stood, and wrapped her arms around his abdomen and administered the Heimlich maneuver, causing Ron to fall to the ground in pain, but alive. Apparently, the bushy haired girl had broken several of his ribs in the attempt to dislodge the food that was choking him. Harry's eyes widened imperceptibly at this, wondering if the girl even realized the magnitude of her actions.

Soon, several teachers arrived and levitated the groaning boy to the hospital wing.

"Damn, and I thought for sure that you had him that time!" Daphne groaned.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll do something else stupid soon, and we'll kill him then." Harry quipped, as if he was simply discussing the weather, rather than having tried and failed to kill an eleven year old twice within two hours.

The rest of the meal passed without incident, as the rest of the Weasleys had better table manners, making them less likely to have an 'accident', at least for now. Finally, Dumbledore stood up and dismissed the students, who followed their prefects to their dormitories, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws departing in orderly lines, while the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors ran out in a ragged mob. Descending into the dungeons, they stopped in front of a portrait of a snake, where one of the prefects then spoke a password, Ambition, and the portrait swung aside, revealing a rather well furnished room, inside which Professor Snape was waiting. The first year students formed an orderly line in front of the greasy haired professor, while the older students went to practice a routine that they had obviously gone through before.

"Welcome to Slytherin House. I am Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin house and your potions instructor." Professor Snape began when the older students had left. "Before I continue, I would like to remind you that I will not coddle you in this house. This is a house of serpents, not worms, after all. You are to settle your disputes yourself, without drawing me into them, as I do not wish for my time to be wasted with the petty arguments of children. Now, as members of Slytherin house, you are to present a united front to the other houses. Whatever your grievances with each other are, they are to be settled inside the common room, not in the hallways. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor Snape." The first years intoned.

"Good. Now, due to our dormitories' location, we have more than enough room to give each one of you their own room, unlike the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, who have to share. This space, however, comes at a cost in that the dungeons will get rather cold in winter, so you all better learn your warming charms before then. In addition, unlike the Gryffindors, who need to have their girls' and boys' dormitories warded from intrusion from the other gender, you are free to pass between the two at will. However, I expect you all to behave appropriately, and will not be responsible for any injuries sustained from your trespassing. Now, while curfew officially is at nine o'clock, you will be permitted to stay up until eleven to get ahead on your studies before the lights go out. Any questions?" Snape asked. When no student raised their hand, Snape spoke again.

"In that case, I will leave you to it. You are to find a room to yourself. What you do in it is none of my concern unless you make it so." Snape then turned and left the room, the portrait closing behind him. Nobody spoke for a few moments, then Draco Malfoy walked to the front of the crowd.

"My name is Draco Malfoy, and my father is Lucius Malfoy. Should any of you do anything against me, my father will hear of it, and your families will find themselves out on the streets before you can even kiss my robes. As of now, I declare myself to be the king of Slytherin, and you all better obey me if you know what's good for you!" Malfoy proclaimed. The little speech made Harry see red. How dare the little blonde ponce presume himself Harry's superior? He could barely cast a stinging hex, much less beat Harry in a duel!

Walking over to the blonde, Harry drew back his hand, calmly looked Malfoy in the eye, and, with a resounding 'SMACK!', Harry slapped him across the face, putting his entire body behind the blow.

Just like that, Malfoy tumbled to the ground, stunned. Planting his foot on the fallen blonde's neck, Harry turned to face the crowd and spoke.

"The king is dead. Long live the king!"

Nobody moved for the first few seconds, then applause broke out as Blaise started to clap, followed by Daphne and Tracey, and pretty soon, most of the first year Slytherins followed suit, with the exception of Malfoy's two trollish cohorts and a spoiled looking girl named Pansy Parkinson, the former of which simply stood there, looking stupid, while the latter actually rushed over to Malfoy, screeching something about her 'Drakey Poo' being hurt, causing the rest of the room to burst into laughter. Just like that, Draco Malfoy lost all his credibility among the Slytherins, and Harry had asserted himself in his place as the new leader of Slytherin house. It was then that Draco managed to lift his wand and fire a curse up at Harry. The stinging hex met its mark, but instead of the high pitched yelp of pain that Malfoy had expected, Harry simply grit his teeth and turned to Draco.

"As punishment for the coward's act of cursing your better from behind, Malfoy, I hereby declare that his belongings are no longer his. The rest of you may help yourselves to whatever is in his trunk." Ignoring Malfoy's gasp of outrage, Harry continued. "In addition, each and every Slytherin, including the upper years, may request that Draco use his own finances to purchase something for them, and Draco will oblige and purchase it for you."

"Over my dead body!" Draco shouted back.

"Careful what you wish for." Harry said, before firing a torture curse that simulated electrocution at Draco, keeping it on for several seconds before releasing it. "Now, if you agree to these demands, you will be released. If not, well, there's more where that came from." Harry said,

"My father will hear of this!" Malfoy shouted, right before the curse was reapplied.

"Your father isn't here right now, Malfoy, so I suggest you shut up and agree to my demands, unless you actually like the pain." Harry said to a groaning blonde.

"Fine! Fine! I'll do it, just please, let me go!" Malfoy shouted as Harry prepared to fire another curse.

"See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Harry chided as he stepped off Malfoy's neck, allowing the other boy to slowly scramble to his feet. "Blaise! Daphne! Would you two be so kind as to alert the upper years as to Draco's generous offer and the story behind it?" The two students then shot off to their respective genders' dormitories, following Harry's command.

"Tracey!" Harry then turned to the brown haired girl.

"Yes?"

"Get out some parchment and a quill. We're making a list." Tracey smiled at that, and rushed off towards the girls' dormitories, coming back several minutes later with the required supplies.

"Sorry for taking so long. I had to claim a room and call for the house elves to bring my stuff down." Tracey said with a grin. By then, the common room had filled with upper year students, some of which were jeering at Malfoy, while others began clamoring for the list as soon Tracey arrived with it.

"Allright! Please put down your name, then what you want to order. Please keep the prices within reason, as we want our generous friend here," Harry announced, pointing at Draco as he did so, "...to still have some money for the next time we do this!"

It was nearly half an hour before everyone, Harry included, had signed the list. The requested items ranged from relatively inexpensive (A 'Deluxe Magical Make-up Kit', imported from France for Pansy Parkinson,) to truly expensive, such as seven sets of racing brooms, ranging from British Nimbus 2000s to American Nike Victories, doubtless requests from the members of Slytherin's quidditch team, although given how many brooms were ordered, it was fairly obvious that each player had put down enough brooms to supply the entire team, thus bringing the total to forty nine expensive racing brooms. Harry himself had put himself down for an extremely rare and expensive rune making kit that he had circled in several catalogs but couldn't find anywhere in Diagon Alley.

Finally, when the upper years had left the common room, Harry showed the list of parchment to Draco, who blanched at the expenses listed.

"I want these delivered within the month. I don't care how you get it done, but if a single one of these items is not here by the end of September, there will be hell to pay. Understood?" Harry asked, handing the paper to Malfoy, who nodded dumbly and then turned to leave.

"Oh, and I charmed that paper to warn me should anyone try to edit its contents. Should you try, I wouldn't hesitate to turn this into a monthly occasion, Malfoy." Harry said to the boy, who nodded again and shuffled towards a dormitory that he had chosen.

Soon, many of the first years had gotten over their excitement at the humiliation of Malfoy and had went off to find their own dormitories, Harry included.

The Slytherin dormitories, due to their location in the otherwise unused dungeons of the school, had enough space to give each student their own room. However, the passageways between them and the common room were laid out in a labyrinthine manner, complete with dead ends, secret passageways into other rooms, and ever shifting corridors, all of which helped to contribute to the impression of Slytherin house being a true den of snakes.

It was several minutes of walking later that Harry found a promising looking room. As every room was unique, a student had to investigate each room he wanted carefully, lest there be some unpleasant surprises present, such as cursed furniture, or a particularly rude ghost, or worse.

The room that Harry had chosen seemed more like a miniature library than a bedroom at first, with the shelves still filled with books. Next to the bed, which was rather small when compared to some of the other rooms', there was a large desk, with several old sheets of parchment and even a journal of some sort lying on it. Picking up said journal, Harry saw on the front the name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. The name seemed familiar to him, although Harry couldn't figure out why.

Opening it, Harry saw that the first few pages were written as if the notebook were a diary. Skimming through those, Harry saw the writing style change about a quarter of the way through the book, as it started to look like less of a diary and more of a proper research journal, similar to the one that Harry kept as he worked on his potions that he had brought with him in his trunk.

Deciding to ignore the journal for now, Harry walked over to the bed, upon which lay a note, which told Harry to summon the Hogwarts house elves to bring his luggage down to him. Doing so, he watched as several long eared creatures appeared into the room, carrying his trunk. They quickly put it down, depositing another note in the process, and then disappeared as quickly as they came, a loud 'CRACK!' signalling their departure. Picking up the note, which Harry saw was just a quick reminder that his owl had been moved to the Owlery, as the dungeons were no place to keep it. Sighing, Harry sat down on the bed, the excitement of the day having finally caught up to him. He fell asleep shortly afterward.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That would be the second chapter of this story done a day late, as I had to re-write the entire last segment of the chapter, as the old version, at least to me, seemed cliche and OOC. **

**As for my early introduction of Daphne and Tracey, the former of which being pretty commonly shipped with Harry, this is not at all indicative of future pairings (or is it? I'm not telling!). After all, I read books 1-5 expecting Harry to end up with Hermione, as Ginny was a very minor character in those books. Then, in book 6 she comes out of nowhere and gets Harry for herself. Thus, theoretically, the pairing could be any girl in Slytherin (No slash here, sorry folks). It could even be someone NOT in Slytherin! Imagine that! Regardless, romance won't be a primary focus of this work of fiction. (I like calling this a 'Work of Fiction' instead of a Fic! It's more formal sounding, and helps pad the word count.)**

**Anyway, I hope that this chapter meets your expectations after reading the first. That's all for now, folks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**I used the Harry Potter Wiki as my primary source of information while writing this fic. **

Harry woke up early the next day, quickly changing into his school robes, which now had a silver and green trim on them. Navigating his way through the shifting maze that was the Slytherin dormitories, he entered the common room, which was already occupied by multiple students, including several first years, namely Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis, who were looking over a sheet of parchment. Walking up to them, Harry saw that the parchment was a sheet that called for first-year students to sign up for electives. Beside it lay a few packets containing information on the various electives available to first-year students.

While most of the worthwhile electives at Hogwarts did not start until third year, there were several more mundane subjects that first and second years could sign up for. While the list had once been just as diverse as the elective choices available to third years and up, it had been substantially diminished during the course gutting that took place after Voldemort's defeat. Where the first years could once take subjects such as Fencing, Physical Education, and Dueling, those courses had all been removed from the Hogwarts curriculum, while other electives that were once available for first years, like Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies had been moved up to third year to compensate for the loss of subjects like Mind Arts and Alchemy, the latter of which having been moved up to Sixth year, while the former was removed entirely.

Thus, there were very few activities that Harry could actually sign up for, and most of those were either totally mundane, useless, or both. An example was Xylomancy, which was a simple form of divination utilizing sticks. It was created after Voldemort's fall, having been split from the original Divination curriculum. Harry quickly skimmed through the course description and dismissed it as rubbish. Other subjects, like Art and Music did not even require magic, and were, to Harry's mind at least, completely useless. However, first years were required to take at least one elective, so he continued to look through the electives packet. Finally, after discarding the whole lot of them as useless, Harry came across a final option that, if he could pull it off, would provide a perfect solution to his problem.

The option was simply labeled "Supervised Study", and the name was self explanatory. If selected, a first or second year student would need to persuade a teacher to supervise them while they self-studied or worked on schoolwork. However, it could only be accepted with permission from a teacher, without which a student would need to pick a different elective. This choice was only available to first and second years, with unsupervised self-study being available to third years and up.

A low groan brought Harry out of his thoughts, causing him to look around just in time for Daphne Greengrass to collapse into the spot beside him. Her hair, which had been perfectly combed the day before, was now a mess, flying in all directions, while her eyes were barely open. Evidently, she was not a morning person, a fact that was reinforced by the blonde girl's complete collapse onto Harry's side, to the annoyance of the boy in question. Jabbing his fingers into her side, he shot off a quick stinging hex, which caused Daphne to bolt awake, startling the nearby Tracey and Blaise.

"Good morning." Harry said blandly as Daphne fixed him with a glare that could melt steel.

"That was uncalled for." Daphne replied indignantly as she nursed the spot where the hex had struck.

"Really? I thought it was quite necessary given the circumstances." Harry said as he began to think about which professor to persuade. The most likely choice was Snape, as the man already knew that Harry possessed some form of talent, as well as the fact that Snape was the head of Slytherin House.

"May I see that packet please?" Daphne asked, and Harry nodded distractedly, handing the packet to the blonde as he thought of ways to persuade the greasy haired man to allow him to study under his supervision. Meanwhile, Daphne skimmed through the packet, her eyes quickly coming to rest on the Supervised Study option.

"So, which elective are you taking?" Daphne asked after a few minutes.

"I'm going to try to persuade Snape to take me in for Supervised Study. All the other electives are complete rubbish, and that would allow me to keep reading the Encyclopedia." Harry replied.

"Really? I was thinking the same thing. Snape would probably accept, we are in Slytherin after all, and it would allow us to get ahead in our studies as well, rather than increase our workload like the other choices would." Daphne said.

"I'd wager most of the Slytherins would do the same thing." Harry remarked.

"You'd be surprised by how many people just pick Xylomancy because it sounds magical." Daphne replied, and put the packet down. At that moment, Tracey and Blaise walked over, sitting down beside the pair.

"Are you two trying for Supervised Study as well?" Blaise asked as soon as he sat down.

"Good morning Blaise, and yes, we are." Daphne said, emphasizing Blaise's breach of ettiquette with her reply.

"Good morning Daphne, Harry." Blaise replied, before continuing, "It's pretty obvious that supervised study is the only worthwhile option of the lot, and as we're in Slytherin, we should be able to get Snape to agree without a problem."

"I've heard from some of the upper years that Snape makes us take some sort of test to prove that we're worth his time, but otherwise it shouldn't be an issue." Tracey chipped in.

"That's good to know, Tracey." Harry replied, "Now, do you know when Breakfast starts, by any chance?"

"It starts in a couple minutes. We'll ask Snape immediately afterward. Since classes don't start until tomorrow, we should have plenty of time to do so."

"Do you know when do we get our class schedules?" Daphne asked.

"Tomorrow at Breakfast. Either Snape or the Prefects will pass them out." Blaise replied.

"Thank you." Harry said, before standing up and starting to walk towards the dormitories. When his three acquaintances looked up at him, asking what he was doing, he replied that he had forgotten his wand, and left.

He came back several minutes later with a lightened bag in one hand, and his wand in the other. He didn't particularly like using his wand for magic due to the strange feeling it gave him whenever he attempted to use it, but it would be necessary to keep up appearances. Meanwhile, the lightened and expanded bag contained both his school books and supplies, while in a second, hidden compartment, it held the Encyclopedia Arcanum in its entirety.

In the five years that Harry had lived in the magical world, the Encyclopedia had been his go-to guide for magic, although Harry had not yet finished the whole series. In fact, he had only finished the Magical Theory volume, the rest being either partially read or, in the cases of the more advanced subjects, completely unopened.

Walking into the Slythein common room once more, Harry walked over to where Blaise was instructing Tracey and Daphne in more advanced usage of the levitation charm. He sat down between the two girls, and opened the bag, briefly debating over which book he would take out, before finally deciding on the Potions volume, which he took out and opened to page 1034, which contained detailed information on the interactions of a Bezoar with various soporific substances, such as Asphodel. Potions that were correctly brewed with those two substances tended to have healing effects, such as the potion used in the example, which put the drinker into a trance-like state that accelerated a body's natural healing factor.

A few minutes later, he was distracted from his reading by Blaise tapping him on the shoulder.

"Come on. Breakfast starts soon." The boy said, and Harry put the book away and followed Blaise out of the common room, joining up with Tracey and Daphne, who were waiting outside.

"So, what were you reading about?" Blaise asked as they walked to the great hall.

"Potions. Specifically, the interactions of a Bezoar with various soporific reagents. It's quite interesting, actually, when you use Godwin's formula to predict the results of the Bezoar's reaction, as the result almost always carries an amalgam of both ingredients' effects as well as a third, completely new effect present in the potion. In fact, Bezoars are one of the few ingredients whose result in a reaction cannot be predicted by the more commonly taught Egbertian system, hence the lack of bezoars in advanced potion brewing..." Harry continued to ramble on about Bezoars and various formulas, some of which Blaise, Tracey, and Daphne had heard of, while others were completely new to them.

"... so as a result, when soaked in a suspension of powdered jade and rattlesnake oil, a Bezoar becomes a much more stable ingredient, and it will become inert rather than explode if it is inserted into the wrong substance." Harry finished his lecture on the stability of Bezoars as he and his group of acquaintances entered the great hall, only to find a certain professor standing in their way.

"Mr. Potter, since you seem so knowledgeable on the subject of Bezoars, tell me, what would you get if you added one to an infusion of Wormwood?" Professor Snape asked, a look of mild curiosity on his face.

"If it were a normal, uncut bezoar, the result would be unpredictable, although it usually comes in the form of an explosion. However, were you to add a precise measurement of powdered bezoar that I believe would be equal to... one twentieth of the liquid's mass," Harry began, running some rudimentary calculations in his head, "...then the result would be a potion that protects the drinker from most poisons while asleep for exactly twenty days after drinking, meaning that it would be impossible to poison them while they are unconscious and under the potion's influence." Harry finished, before looking up to see Snape's face assuming an impassive facade, only briefly catching the shock that had been there several seconds before.

"I will test your theory later today, Mr. Potter. Twenty points to Slytherin if it succeeds." Snape said, before turning to leave, only for Daphne to hold up her hand, causing the greasy haired professor to shift his attention to her.

"Yes, Miss Greengrass?"

"Sir, the four of us have been wondering if you would be willing to be our supervisor for supervised study this year, as we wish to select it for our elective." Daphne asked.

"If that is your wish, you four are to report directly to my office after breakfast, so I can ensure you will be worth my time. Pray that you do not waste it." With those parting words, Snape turned around and walked to the head table, sitting down on Dumbledore's left.

"That went just about as well as expected." Daphne sighed, before she sat down at the Slytherin table, the rest of the group sitting down around her, Blaise at her right, Harry at her left, and Tracey on Harry's right.

"You seem quite knowledgeable on the subject of potions, Harry." Daphne said after looking thoughtful for a moment.

"Yeah, especially about Bezoars. I think I've heard enough about them to last me a lifetime!" Tracey piped up.

"It's nothing, really. I just read about it is all." Harry replied.

"In the Encyclopedia Arcanum, perhaps?" Daphne asked, and Harry realized what she was trying to do.

"Perhaps." Harry replied, an enigmatic smile forming on his face.

"You know, I started to read the introductory volume on the train..." Daphne began, and Harry finished her sentence.

"... And you want to have access to the rest of the series?" Harry asked.

"Exactly." Daphne said, determination clear in her voice. After all, while she wasn't spoiled rotten like Malfoy or Pansy, she was still from a wealthy, pureblood family and thus, used to getting what she wanted, usually through manipulation on her part.

"Hmm... I might be persuaded to temporarily part with a volume or two..." Harry began.

"Name your price so that we may negotiate." Daphne said.

"It's not so much that I want something as it is the books' contents. After all, knowledge is power, and I wouldn't want to give power to a potential rival, now would I? To put it bluntly, Daphne, I want an alliance." Harry said.

"You know, if you wanted to be friends, Harry, you could have just asked." Daphne said, a smile on her face.

"Slytherins don't have friends. We have allies. Friends, after all, are just friends. Allies, meanwhile, are friends bound together by a mutual materialistic and emotional relationship." Harry said, a smile on his own face.

"Materialistic and emotional relationship? Are you... proposing to me?" Daphne asked, a coy smirk briefly visible on her face before she schooled her features into a more serious visage. "On a more serious note, I am willing to enter an alliance with you in exchange for access to the books."

"Excellent. Now, let us negotiate the terms for this alliance." Harry said, and pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill. He then quickly wrote down a short paragraph, and handed it to Daphne.

"Is this acceptable?" He asked, and Daphne took the paper and read it over.

"Let's see... should an activity in class require a partner I am to oblige... mutual exchange of school supplies... delivery of gifts necessary on July 31st and a mutual exchange of gifts December 23rd... Promised assistance with any and all homework assignments... This is mostly acceptable, but I would like you to add in something to make you give me gifts on my birthday, which is April 18th, by the way, as well as making the homework assistance clause and partner clause mutual." She said, and handed the parchment back to Harry, who quickly scratched out and added in the appropriate alterations.

"I find those terms acceptable." Harry said, and Daphne took the parchment again, quickly reading it over to make sure everything was satisfactory. Then, she took the quill from Harry's hand and signed her name at the bottom of the contract. Harry did the same when she handed the contract back to him. They then set the contract down and shook hands, smirks on both their faces, each thinking that they had gotten the good end of the deal.

"Whoa... That's a... unique way of making friends." Tracey said as she looked at the two as if they had gone insane.

"We are not friends, Miss Davis. We are allies." Daphne said, an aloof look on her face that held for a few seconds before she started to laugh.

"You are free to enter alliance negotiations with one or both of us, Miss Davis." Harry said.

"Really, Harry? Just call me your friend." Tracey said.

"Are those your only terms for an alliance?" Harry asked.

"On second thought, the contract sounds like a good idea." Tracey said as she got a crafty look on her face.

"Hmph. Typical snakes. Need a contract just to make friends!" A familiar voice caused the group to turn around. Behind them stood Ron Weasley, as well as the Weasley twins.

"You better watch your back ickle firsties..." One twin began.

"... because we've got an extra special surprise in store for you!" The other twin finished. That was when Snape walked over to the trio.

"Threatening a student, are we? That's ten points from Gryffindor. Ten more for being out of your seat, and ten more for not taking care of your appearance." Snape said, a sadistic smile on his face as he docked 30 points from his least favorite house.

"But-" Ron began.

"Ten more for talking back, Weasley. I suggest you go back to your table before you cost your house even more than you already have." At that, the three Weasleys ran back to their table, barely hearing Snape's voice saying, "Another ten for running in the Great Hall." With that, Snape left, disappearing back to his own table just as fast as he had appeared.

"How nice of the twins to actually announce their plans to us." Blaise said offhandedly.

"What do you expect? They're Gryffindors." Daphne said with a disdainful sniff.

"Plenty of opportunities for a little accident now. Perhaps one of their little childish pranks will backfire at the wrong moment now." Harry commented.

"One of the older Slytherins claims he heard the Twins talking to each other one night." Tracey began. "He claims that they can get into the Slytherin common room thanks to some idiots named Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Whoever they were, they must have given the twins some way of guessing the password."

"Did you just say Prongs?" Harry turned to the brown haired girl. He had, after all, read through the diary his father kept while at school.

"Yeah. What about him?" Tracey asked, putting some food on her plate.

"I think I might have a solution." Harry said, before getting up and walking over to where the Twins were sitting.

"Oh, is the ickle firstie back for more?" One of the twins asked.

"Yes, in fact, I am here to get something. I believe you have a certain map in your possession. Hand it over, now." Harry said imperiously.

"We have no such thing!" A twin said, although the panicked look on their faces gave them away.

"As the son of Prongs, I demand that you hand over that which is rightfully mine." Harry said, still smiling.

"Really?" One twin asked skeptically.

"Make me." The other twin declared.

"Very well then. _Accio Marauder's Map!"_ Harry waved his hand dramatically, and a piece of parchment came soaring out of the Twins' belongings.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Harry said, and touched the paper. Just like that, what was once blank parchment became a full map of Hogwarts, with the positions of everyone in the school marked as well.

Satisfied, Harry deactivated the map with a quick "Mischief Managed," and tucked the map into his pockets before walking away, reveling in the enraged glares the twins were giving him.

"Wow, if looks could kill, your corpse would have died twice over by now." Tracey said as Harry sat down. "What did you do anyway?"

"Nothing. Just regained some stolen property." Harry said with a smirk, and finished his breakfast.

* * *

><p>As the quartet were leaving the Great Hall, intending to head straight down to Snape's office, they were stopped by Dumbledore, the old man looking down upon them with a grandfatherly smile and twinkling eyes.<p>

"Good morning young ladies and gentlemen." Dumbledore greeted, "I do not mean to impose, but may I borrow young Mr. Potter for a moment?"

"Good morning headmaster. I do not mean to offend, but I already have an appointment scheduled with Professor Snape. Is it alright if our meeting is delayed until then?" Harry asked.

"Certainly. I know how Severus is a stickler for appointments, so it is best not to keep him waiting! Meet me in my office when you are done, Mr. Potter. I have something to discuss with you."

"I'll be there." Harry said, forcing a smile onto his face despite his internal panic. Had the Sorting Hat lied about not being able to disclose secrets? Had his murder of his aunt and uncle been discovered?

"I will look forward to it." Dumbledore said before walking away.

"What was that all about?" Blaise asked.

"I don't know, but he did get one thing right. Let's get to Snape's office, the sooner the better." Daphne replied, and set off at a quick walk, the rest of the group soon matching her pace. They quickly re-entered the dungeons and made their way towards the Slytherin Head of House's office.

"You may come in." Snape said as Blaise knocked on the door.

The four students entered and sat down.

"So. Greengrass, Davis, Zabini, and Potter. All of you are the scions of old and powerful wizarding families, so you all should know how to perform some rudimentary magic by now. Thus, this test should be easy for you, if you are at all competent, that is. Greengrass, explain to me, the process by which the Summoning charm works." Snape asked.

"The summoning charm operates by sending out a magical tracer keyed to the object that the caster has specified. Once it has found its target, it will utilize a variant of the common levitation charm to bring the object to its owner via the path of least resistance, breaking through obstacles if necessary. The range of the summoning charm is theoretically infinite, although the power of the summoner limits the range at which an object can be summoned."

"Adequate, Miss Greengrass. You are accepted. Next, Mr. Zabini, tell me, where would you find a bezoar?"

"You can find a bezoar in the stomach of a goat that has lived in a magically saturated area." Blaise replied, and Snape nodded his acceptance.

"Miss Davis, explain to me the difference between a dementor and a lethifold."

"Lethifolds and Dementors are created in a similar manner, but are not identical. A dementor is a creature that can best be described as congealed despair, which feeds off of emotions. Contrary to popular belief, a dementor does not feed on positive memories, rather, it feeds off despair, thus it brings negative memories to the forefront of a person's mind. A lethifold, meanwhile, is the result of a dementor's kiss, and can be described as the remnants of a soul devoured by a dementor, unable to feel any emotion but hatred. Both creatures can be repelled by the use of a patronus charm."

"You are accepted, Miss Davis. Now for you, Mr. Potter. Miss Davis here has just described possible uses of a Patronus charm. Could you, perhaps, perform a practical demonstration of said charm for us?" Snape asked.

"I am afraid not, Professor." Harry began after some frantic thinking on his part. "One must choose their battles, and the one you have set before me is un-winnable. I freely admit that I do not know how to perform the Patronus charm." Harry said.

"Well said, Mr. Potter. At first I thought you would have arrogantly attempted the charm despite not knowing it. It seems that you have more of your mother in you than your father despite inheriting _his _looks. You are accepted." Snape said, an impassive look on his face.

"Thank you, sir." Harry replied.

"You may leave now." Snape said as he returned to his work. The four students left, Harry heading for Dumbledore's office.

* * *

><p>"Move." Harry ordered the Gargoyle.<p>

"No." The statue responded.

"Move." Harry said, a bit more forcefully.

"No. Please say the password first."

"You are going to move right now, or Merlin help me I will blast you to rubble."

"Better students have tried and failed, my boy." The voice of Dumbledore cut into the argument. "I apologize for not giving you the password beforehand. Licorice Wands."

"No thank you, si-" Harry started to deny the offered candy, only to stop as the statue swung aside. Was Licorice Wands actually the password?

"Come on now, Harry, I don't bite!" Dumbledore said as he walked up the revealed staircase. Harry followed, and entered a rather large office. A large stone basin sat in a corner, and against the wall was a shelf covered in various instruments. Most of the instruments were silent and still, but a few continued to flash and whirl.

"Lemon drop?" The headmaster asked as he sat down on one side of the desk and conjured up a simple chair on the other.

"No thank you, sir." Harry replied as he sat in the offered seat.

"Alas, nobody seems to appreciate them anymore." Dumbledore said, popping one of the yellow candies into his mouth.

"Sorry, sir. I just don't like lemons." Harry replied, his eyes wandering across the instrument array.

"Something catch your fancy, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, noticing where Harry was looking.

"Forgive me, sir, but may I ask what are those instruments?" Harry asked.

"Ah, yes. Those instruments are part of what we will be discussing today. You see, when your parents died, I was tasked with becoming your magical guardian. However, due to my position, I was unable to take care of you personally, so I left you with your mother's only remaining relatives. After making sure you were safe, I erected a series of blood wards around the house, which should have kept you safe. These instruments were created to monitor not only the wards, but you as well." Dumbledore began.

"Why me, sir?" Harry asked.

"Harry, do you know why your parents died?"

"I know how, but I do not know why." Harry replied.

"It is good to see that you are not entirely uninformed. You must know your enemy to defeat them, after all. Regardless, Lord Voldemort was a truly brilliant man. Terrible, yes, but also brilliant. However, that brilliance lent itself to a certain paranoia, and when news of a supposed 'Chosen One' who could defeat him being born, he was quick to act. Now, these rumors may or may not have contained truth, but Voldemort soon narrowed down the list to two children. Neville Longbottom, and you, Harry Potter. Seeking to eliminate any possible threat, he sent his chief lieutenant, Bellatrix Lestrange, to the Longbottom household, while he personally went after your parents. Now, your parents realized this, and allowed me to hide them under the Fidelius charm. They would have been able to hide forever, but in the end they were betrayed. Sirius Black, upon whose shoulders the protection lay, gave away the Potters' location to the Dark Lord, allowing him to bypass the protections and kill your parents. However, your mother was a truly gifted witch, and with an unknown spell, she used her own sacrifice to save your life, allowing the killing curse to rebound off you and give you that scar." Dumbledore said, pointing at the now faded scar on Harry's forehead.

"Your mother's love and sacrifice protected you that night, and your survival of the killing curse has made some believe that you truly are the chosen one who will defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all."

"I don't understand, sir. Isn't Voldemort already dead?"

"In life, Voldemort's only true fear was death itself, and there are several truly foul rituals he may have performed to ensure his survival beyond death. Even now, I believe he still lives, if only as a shade of his former self. How he anchored his soul to the mortal plane, I know not, but I do believe he still lives on. Unfortunately, very few people share that point of view, most preferring to live carefree lives, believing the man who terrorized them is truly dead."

"I see. May I ask why you called me here, headmaster? I doubt it is to discuss the man who killed my parents."

"Very astute, my boy. It has to do with the instruments you asked me about. See how most of them are silent?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes..." Harry said, dreading where the conversation was going.

"Harry, do you remember any strange people visiting your house on August thirteenth, 1987?"

Harry did not remember anything of the sort, as he himself had killed his foster family, but he realized what the headmaster was getting at. He immediately cast his eyes down to the floor and attempted to give off the impression of fear.

"I... I don't want to talk about it." He quickly blurted out.

"It's alright my boy, you do not have to if you are uncomfortable with remembering such a thing. I simply wanted to ask how you were doing, after all, it is a terrible thing to lose one's family once, let alone twice over, both times at the hands of dark wizards." Dumbledore soothed.

"Thank you for your concern, sir, but you said that you put up some form of blood wards to protect me. How could that... that man get past them?"

"Alas, I do not know. The only way the wards could have been penetrated was if someone possessed your mother's blood, but that is impossible as your mother had no living relatives aside from poor Petunia Dursley. I am still trying to determine how the deed was done."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Harry said, expertly hiding his internal concern. What if Dumbledore's investigation leads to discovery of his role in the Dursley murder? Dumbledore had to be eliminated before he found out too much.

"It truly has been a pleasure speaking with you, my boy. Now, off you go! Classes start up tomorrow, and you do want to be fully prepared for them." Dumbledore said. Harry stood, thanking the professor one last time, and took his leave, Dumbledore's concerned eyes following him out the door.

* * *

><p>The first week of classes went by fairly quickly, Harry using the time to analyze his teachers and their methods. Potions was by far the best lesson for the Slytherins, especially on fridays, when the Slytherins had double potions with the Gryffindors. It was there that Snape made his pro-Slytherin bias abundantly clear, giving points to Slytherins for something as simple as correct posture, whilst simultaneously taking away points from Gryffindor for the same reasons. It seemed that the greasy haired professor took a sadistic pleasure in tormenting the house of the brave, as was evidenced by his humiliation of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. Weasley and Longbottom couldn't brew a potion to save their lives, the former due to sheer stupidity, while the latter was extremely intimidated by Snape, which prevented him from doing well.<p>

"How that boy ended up in Gryffindor I'll never know." Daphne once remarked as she watched Neville have a panic attack and explode his cauldron by dropping in three times as many beetle eyes as was necessary.

"Probably the same way that Drakey Poo ended up in Slytherin." Harry replied, causing Daphne to laugh.

Hermione Granger, meanwhile, was a much better student than Longbottom or Weasley, and brewed almost every potion in the class perfectly. However, she seemed to have a constant string of bad luck while in the classroom, with her cauldron constantly tipping over, spilling its half-finished contents, or the vials of potion she was turning in being 'accidentally' knocked off the table and shattering. Of course, the vials of Slytherin students would also fall, but the older students had charmed them to be unbreakable beforehand, allowing them to stay intact. This drove Hermione to tears multiple times, causing her to run crying out of the room, much to the amusement of the Slytherins and even a few Gryffindors.

Transfiguration, meanwhile, came with a noticeable pro-Gryffindor bias, as Professor McGonnagall was prone to coddling her lions, awarding them points for succeeding first. She gave Slytherins points for succeeding as well, but it wasn't nearly as much, and it usually was followed by a larger point award going to a Gryffindor. She obviously favored Hermione, as the girl was, in fact, a natural at transfiguration. Harry might even have ended up befriending her if it weren't for her insufferable, know-it-all attitude and behavior as a teacher's pet. Then, there came McGonnagall's attitude towards Harry.

The elderly Transfiguration teacher seemed to take it as a personal insult that Harry had not gone into her house as expected, and thus took quite a bit of points off for 'Not doing the spell properly' or 'showing off' whenever he wandlessly completed the assigned transfiguration. Thus, despite his ability in the field, Harry soon developed a dislike of Tranfiguration.

The other classes, meanwhile, gave Harry more than enough opportunities to regain the points lost in Transfiguration, as he would always be the first to succeed in Charms and Defense, although he was closely rivaled in Herbology by Neville Longbottom of all people, creating an even point split in that class.

Of course, there were other classes, like Magical Theory, which Harry dismissed as outdated, false information, and History of Magic, in which he simply read the Encyclopedia along with Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise, who had all come to an agreement regarding the precious volumes. Their performance in class had already begun to improve by leaps and bounds, and the three had all cast their first pieces of wandless magic by the end of the week.

It was after one such session in History of Magic that Harry's group was confronted by Hermione as they were leaving History of Magic.

"I saw what you were doing in there." The bushy haired girl said as Harry was leaving.

"And what was I doing, Miss Granger?" Harry replied coolly.

"You were reading a book on the dark arts!" Hermione accused, causing several eyes to look his way.

"You mean this?" Harry asked, pulling out the Magical Theory volume of the Encyclopedia from his bag. He had been reading the Blood Magic volume in class, but the books looked almost identical, making it hard to distinguish between volumes without reading the titles.

"No, that's not the book you were reading!" Hermione declared. Apparently, she had read the title.

"What I read is none of your concern, Miss Granger. Besides, Magic is all about intent. I can behead someone with a simple severing charm, or I could use a deadly blood boiling curse to warm up a cup of tea. The magic you see as 'Light' are simply the basic, ministry approved spells that the fools in the ministry have decided are weak enough to allow control. However, the fact remains that each and every one of us is carrying a potentially lethal weapon, Miss Granger." Harry said, taking out and twirling his wand between his fingers. "You might as well learn how to use it."

"But it's still dark magic! It wouldn't be regulated if it weren't for your own good and the good of society!" Hermione insisted.

"Did you know, Miss Granger, that Hogwarts used to offer a lot more classes than the ones available today? It was only after the rise of Voldemort that they were removed from the school curriculum."

"Then they must have been dark."

"Really now? How is Fencing or Physical Education dark magic? Face it, Miss Granger, just because the ministry regulates it doesn't mean it's dark."

"There must have been some reason for it!" Hermione insisted, much to Harry's annoyance.

"Miss Granger, if you are just going to stand there and berate me for my choice in reading, you are simply wasting your time, as well as mine. I do not enjoy my time being wasted, Granger." Harry said, attempting to channel the disdainful aura that Snape always seem to exude. It seemed to work, as Hermione took the hint and backed off.

"How rude of her." Tracey, who had watched the exchange, commented.

"Not my fault that all those books she has memorized don't include anything on proper manners." Harry responded as they walked to their next class, which happened to be herbology.

* * *

><p>Harry's first flying lesson was rather eventful, as Malfoy chose that moment to make a move against the Gryffindors.<p>

Earlier during the lesson, Neville Longbottom had fallen off his broom and broke his wrist, forcing Madame Hooch to take him to the hospital wing. As soon as she had left, however, Draco went over to where Neville had fallen and picked up a small glass sphere, a rememberall, if Harry remembered correctly. The blonde haired boy had promptly gotten into a confrontation with Ron Weasley, which ended in both the boys flying into the air and attempting to knock the other off their brooms. That was when Madame Hooch returned, and she promptly docked a hundred points from both houses, causing Malfoy to land immediately, while Ron attempted to throw one last punch, costing Gryffindor another twenty points. As the flying teacher berated the red haired boy, Harry walked over to Draco Malfoy, and after ensuring that his classmates were hiding the two of them from the teacher's view, slapped the blonde across the face.

"Are you a Slytherin or not, Malfoy?" Harry asked as the boy in question rubbed his cheek.

"Of course I am! Are you blind, Potter?" Malfoy said in outrage.

"I am most assuredly not blind. However, that behavior of yours was totally unsuitable for a Slytherin! You charged blindly into a brutish, physical confrontation rather than bide your time and wait for an accident like a true snake. Now, thanks to you, Slytherin has fallen behind Ravenclaw in terms of points! It will take us a month to overtake them again."

"And how would you have done it?" Malfoy challenged. In response, Harry looked at Ron, who was no longer being shouted at by Madame Hooch and was now standing alone, his housemates having deserted him. The flying teacher was currently working with a pair of girls, so her attention was diverted. Thus, Harry walked over to Ron, quickly conjuring a glove, and promptly used said glove to slap the redhead across the face.

"What was that for?" Ron shouted, indignantly.

"Weasley, for staining the honor of Slytherin House, I challenge you to a wizard's duel in the Trophy room tonight at midnight. Daphne Greengrass shall be my second. Do you accept these terms?" Harry asked.

"Wha- Of course I do! Seamus will be my second." Ron said pompously, while Seamus Finnegan looked surprised.

"I'll arrange things with the professors then. The winner earns his house a hundred points. Be there, or else I'll tell Snape you forfeited." Harry said.

"I'll be there! Just you wait, Potter, you'll get yours!" Ron said, and Harry turned to leave. As soon as he rejoined the Slytherins, he walked over to Daphne.

"Daphne, after class, can you tell Snape that there may be a pair of students out of bed in the trophy room at midnight. I'll tell Filch." Harry said, and Daphne nodded. Harry looked over to where the Gryffindors were gathered, Seamus and Ron shooting Harry dark looks. Harry smirked back, and turned back to Daphne, with whom he quickly outlined his plan. Then, he turned to Malfoy.

"Tomorrow morning, Gryffindor will be out of the running for the house cup." Harry said with a smile.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ron and Seamus sat alone at their house table, their housemates wanting nothing to do with them. After all, they had been caught by both Snape and Filch right outside the trophy room, and had promptly ran into the forbidden third floor corridor, earning them both detention and two hundred points lost. For the first time since 1978, Gryffindor was in the negatives, and this was before even the first month of school had ended.<p>

Ron and the Weasley twins had swore revenge, but without their primary method of getting around unnoticed, the Weasley twins were now having a much harder time pranking Slytherin house. With several of their attempts being foiled by a strategically placed Snape, the twins were also getting ostracized by their fellow Gryffindors, although some of the lions had sided with them, demanding revenge against the Slytherins. Over the course of the following week, Gryffindor house began to fragment, with duels between upper year lions erupting in the hallways between classes.

As Halloween approached, Gryffindor had split itself into two distinct factions, which called themselves the Lions and the Griffins respectively. The Lions called for a state of house warfare between themselves and Slytherin, while the Griffins wanted to ignore the Slytherins in favor of the house cup. Harry watched it all with a smile on his face. His potential rivals outside his house were too busy fighting among themselves to notice him and the rest of Slytherin pulling the strings, after all, so there were plenty of reasons for the snakes to smile.

By the time Halloween came, the Gryffindor table had been cut in half. No matter how many times McGonnagall tried to repair the bisected table, it would always end up broken by the end of the day. This division forced even the Gryffindors who wanted to stay neutral, such as Hermione and Neville, to inadvertently pick a side.

It was on Halloween, or Samhain, as the Slytherins referred to it, that Harry found himself walking to Charms from History of Magic when he heard Ron Weasley screaming just outside the Charms classroom.

"Bloody mental she is! 'It's Levi-o-sah, not Levio-sah!', Stupid Gryffin, no wonder she's got no friends!" The redhead said, and a few seconds later, a sobbing Hermione turned the corner and ran into him.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" Harry asked, formulating a plan in his head. If he could pull it off correctly, then Ron would be dead by the end of November.

"Why do you care?" Hermione shouted.

"I happen to enjoy our occasional debates on the various subjects of magic, so I am simply concerned." Harry lied. Those arguments were annoying wastes of his time, but he needed to play the part of the concerned friend for his plan to work.

"Really?"

"Really." Harry forced a smile on his face.

"Alright then. It's Ron. He... Even after I helped him get his levitation charm correctly, he turns around and says that I am a stupid, friendless..." Hermione trailed off into sobs as she spoke something that, to Harry at least, sounded like the perfect truth.

"So Ron insulted you? Well, lucky for you, I might just have a solution."

"Hexing him won't do anything."

"I'm not talking about something crude like that. I'm talking about something much more... permanent."

"What is it?" Hermione's voice carried a snatch of desperation. Perfect.

"Do you remember how you saved Ron's life during the Opening Feast? You stopped him from choking to death on his food, I believe." Hermione nodded.

"My solution is simple. As you saved his life, Ron now owes you a life debt. Do you know what a life debt is?" Harry asked, and Hermione, surprisingly, shook her head.

"When a witch or a wizard save another witch or wizard's life, the savior can call in a life debt at any time, unless the saved person saves his life in return. If not called in, the life debt will eventually repay itself through compulsion. The life debt, when called in, takes the form of an absolute command that Ron must obey. As he currently owes you a life debt, you may call one in at any time." Harry then took out a piece of parchment and quickly wrote down the words that Hermione needed to speak. After all, were he to call in a life debt that was not owed, he could end up losing his magic.

"Walk up to Ron and read this, and your problem will go away." Harry said, and handed the parchment to Hermione.

"Will this work?"

"I'm certain of it. Oh, and if anyone asks you how you know of this, tell them that you read about it in a book on wizarding customs. You wouldn't want it to get out that you got help from a slimy snake like me!" Harry replied, a warm smile on his face. Hermione returned the smile, and walked off to where Ron was leaning against the wall outside the Charms classroom, talking to his friends.

"Yeah? What do you want, Granger?" Ron asked as he noticed the girl approaching. In response, Hermione looked him in the eye, took a deep breath, and began to speak, while Harry watched from a short distance away.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger hereby invoke the life debt that I hold over Ronald Arthur Weasley. I hereby proclaim that Ronald Weasley is not to insult one Hermione Jean Granger, with or without her knowledge. In accordance with the life debt that he owes me, and on penalty of his own life and magic, so mote it be!" As Hermione finished her declaration, a bright blue flash of light encompassed both her and Ron. That was when Professor Flitwick ran up to the two.

"Hermione Jean Granger! Do you have any idea of what you have just done?" Professor Flitwick demanded, outrage clear on his face.

"I invoked a life debt. I read about them, and I realized that I held one over Ron and-" Hermione began, but Flitwick cut her off.

"Are you aware of what happens if someone violates the debt? If Ronald Weasley were to insult you now, with or without your knowledge, he would be stripped of his magic and die a slow and painful death!" At that, Hermione's face shifted from concern to utter horror.

"Wha... I didn't know..."

"What have you done you bloody-AARRGGHH!" Ron began to speak, only to be cut off as his magic sent an agonizing warning through his body, sending him to the ground.

"No... No!" Hermione screamed, and ran off, crying, leaving behind a tortured Ron, two confused Gryffindors, an aghast Flitwick, and a broadly smiling Harry.

* * *

><p>During the Halloween feast later that day, Harry sat between Daphne and Tracey, looking particularly smug.<p>

"I heard that someone in Gryffindor called in a life debt over Ron Weasley." Tracey was saying. How she knew was anyone's guess, as she was somehow able to know almost everything that happened in the school, Harry's hypothesis being a spy network of some kind.

"It's true. Granger called in Weasley's debts." Harry said.

"Really? How do you know?" Tracey asked.

"Who do you think tricked Hermione into doing it?" Harry asked, smirking. Tracey laughed at that.

"That explains why Hermione's crying up in the girl's bathroom." Tracey commented.

"Really? Well, maybe I should go up there and have a little... chat with her." Harry said.

"Damn you're cruel." Daphne said from the other side of him. "Don't you think that's a little too much?"

"When victorious, you must ensure your victory is absolute." Blaise chimed in.

"Thank you, Blaise." Harry said, and stood to leave, telling Snape that he was going to the bathroom. He slowly walked to the bathroom, thinking over exactly what he was going to say. Should he try and twist the knife a little more? Or maybe he should try and use Hermione some more. All those thoughts ended when a terrible stench entered his nose. Looking up from his thoughts, he saw a full grown Mountain Troll barely ten feet ahead of him, entering the room up ahead.

After the troll entered, Harry quickly shut and locked the door, sighing in relief. He really didn't have the time to tangle with a troll. As he completed the thought, a high pitched scream came from the bathroom, causing Harry to immediately reevaluate his decision. A smile covered his face as he opened the door and ran inside.

The troll in question had just smashed open the stall inside which Hermione had been crying, and was just raising its club to deliver the killing blow when Harry put himself between the club and the girl, a shield of magic springing up and blocking the weapon less than a second before it would have killed both Harry and Hermione. As the troll attempted to crush the shield, Harry turned to Hermione, and watched her hopeful yet tear streaked face morph into an expression of horror.

"Your life is mine, Granger." Harry smiled cruelly as he said those words, before he forced his shield to explode outward, knocking the troll off balance. As the giant creature attempted to regain its bearings, Harry fired a set of blasting curses at its head, the first three missing, while the last curse struck the troll directly between the eyes, stunning it temporarily. Levitating a piece of debris off the ground, Harry drove the remains of the toilet bowl around the troll's body and slammed it into the back of the creature's head. Then, immediately after the troll turned its back, looking for the source of the attack, Harry summoned the troll's club, the weapon breaking several of the creature's bones as it was wrenched out of its hands. As the creature looked stupidly down at where its weapon once lay, Harry levitated the club, lining it up, then fired a pulse of magic and sent the weapon flying quickly towards its former owner. Slamming into the creature's exposed back, the club broke the troll's spine and sent the creature to the ground, dead.

Then, Harry turned to Hermione, who was paralyzed with fear as she looked upon the boy who now held her life in her hands.

"I, Harry James Potter hereby invoke the life debt that I hold over Hermione Jean Granger. I hereby proclaim that whenever I say 'Hermione Granger, attend to me', that Hermione Jane Granger is to obey any and all commands coming from my person, until I say 'Hermione Granger, your services are no longer required'. In accordance with the life debt that she owes me, and on penalty of his own life and magic, so mote it be!" Harry said with a cruel smile. The flash of blue came, and the debt was called in.

"Hermione Granger, attend to me." Harry said immediately after the flash faded, and Hermione began to thrash in pain until she mentally accepted the fact that she had to obey any and all commands from Harry Potter.

"You are not to speak of this life debt to anyone, and you are to act completely normally while not under the influence of my commands. In addition, when the professors come to investigate, you are to support the story I tell them." Harry said.

"Yes. I will." Hermione choked out through stabs of agony.

"Good. Hermione Granger, your services are no longer required." Harry said, and Hermione sighed as the command was released and the agony ended.

About twenty seconds later, several professors entered the room and found Harry standing over a dead troll, while Hermione sat crying against a wall.

"Mr. Potter! What happened here?" Professor McGonnagall demanded.

"Professor, I was making my way to the bathroom when I heard a scream coming from the girls' restroom down the hall. I ran inside, and saw the troll standing over Hermione, about to attack her. To make a long story short, I summoned the club out of its hands and levitated it until it struck the troll in the back." Harry said.

"That was very irresponsible of you, Mr. Potter. Ten points from Slytherin for such reckless behavior." The professor then turned to Hermione.

"Do you have anything to say, Miss Granger?"

In response, Hermione gave a brief gasp of pain before she started to speak.

"I'm sorry. After what happened outside the Charms classroom, I just wanted to be alone where I didn't hurt anyone. If it weren't for Harry saving me, I would probably be dead." Hermione said, tears still flowing freely.

"Ah, the life debt you called in on Mr. Weasley. That was very irresponsible of you, Miss Granger." The professor scolded.

"Please, Professor, is there any way to undo the life debt?" Hermione asked.

"To the best of my knowledge, there is no way of doing so. If you hadn't called in the debt, then Ron would have had to save your life to remove the debt, but not that the debt has been called in, the command you have given is absolute." This caused a fresh wave of tears to start flowing while the professor tried to comfort the girl to no effect. Harry turned to leave, only for a hand to land on his shoulder.

"Fifty points for true Slytherin behavior." Snape said, before turning and walking away with a slight limp.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope my deviations from source material were acceptable and that the chapter didn't seem too rushed. Other than that, I apologize for the late update. Please post any questions in the form of reviews, and post them in such a way that I can answer them. Nothing frustrates me more than a review that poses an amazing question that I can't reply to.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A smile sat squarely on Harry's face as he walked down the hall, passing a pair of Gryffindors engaged in a furious argument, the two students seconds away from drawing their wands. After he passed them, Harry tilted his head to the left to avoid the curse that the younger of the duo had shot off, although the movement was unnecessary, as a shield blocked the curse before it reached its target. The smile on his face grew wider as Harry heard the sounds of a duel erupting in the middle of the corridor.

Gryffindor baiting had become a popular pastime among the Slytherins, as their mere presence was usually enough to ignite even the most level headed Lion into a curse flinging fury, which almost always ended up in a duel as nearby Griffins attempted to intervene. The resulting examples of intra-house warfare were very entertaining to watch, with some of the more exciting incidents actually being watched by Slytherins sitting in conjured lawn chairs. The last time that had happened, one of the spectators had used their family elf to bring in some popcorn for himself.

This particular incident was fairly tame by comparison, involving only two students and very little magic above the basic jinxes and hexes taught in DADA. Speaking of which, Harry's next class happened to be Defense Against the Dark Arts. While Harry had high hopes when he first entered the room, he was almost immediately disappointed by his teacher's timidity and the lack of practical knowledge imparted. Even now, almost halfway through the school year, Quirrel had yet to teach any spells beyond the very basic, although he had gone into extensive detail on the various methods of dealing with magical creatures. However, when it came to fighting other people, Quirrel barely taught anything.

In addition to that, Quirrel seemed to have a strange fascination with Harry himself. Whenever Quirrel brought creatures into the room for practical demonstrations, Quirrel always seemed to be observing Harry. Whenever a test on the theory was given, Quirrel's eyes were always fixed on Harry. This observation occurred even outside the classroom, as Harry discovered that Quirrel's eyes were constantly tracking his every move.

In an attempt to discover the source of the professor's fascination, Harry had decided to use a skill he had obtained through a ritual he had read about in _Rituals Most Foule, _which involved the sacrifice of another wizard's magical core in order to give one the ability to 'see' the magical cores of others. It was not a technique that Harry used often, as it was unable to focus on one specific core, and instead showed all magic in the vicinity. As the cores were highly luminous, using the skill in a crowded area, like a classroom, would temporarily blind a normal human, and could cause permanent damage to Harry's eyes, which had begun to adapt to a Vampire's more nocturnal lifestyle, thus making them more sensitive to light. Despite the risks, however, Harry felt that the ability was more than worth it, as a proper observation of a magical core could reveal many things about the people who were being observed, such as whether they were 'Light' or 'Dark', as well as any abnormalities present in their magical cores. Harry had practiced this skill by looking at his own core in a mirror, and his had been light grey when he had at first performed the ritual, but by his eleventh birthday, it had darkened slightly, as Harry had learned and performed more dark magics in between observation periods. In addition, the vampiric influence on his core was clearly shown as well, as several blood red veins had spiderwebbed their way around the gray mass of his magic core, the tendrils slowly increasing in number as the vampiric virus in his body re-wrote more and more of his genetic code, changing his body as it did so.

Thus, in order to do so, Harry intended to purposefully get a detention with the stuttering professor, and while he was alone with the man, observe his magical core while simultaneously attempting to interrogate the man conventionally. Harry would only be able to observe briefly before he would risk ocular damage. Of course, he would be able to repair that damage with little trouble, but the pain would still give him away very quickly, especially if Quirrel was as attentive as he appeared.

It was with that plan in mind that Harry sat down in Quirrel's classroom, noticing the professor staring at him from across the room. There were several other students in the classroom, two of which were Gryffindors from opposing parties, who were shooting stinging hexes at each other from under the table. Another was Daphne Greengrass, whom he sat down next to, and the last was Draco Malfoy and his entourage.

After the students had finished trickling in, Harry watched as Quirrel stood, and began his stuttering lecture. At that moment Harry put his plan into action, closing his eyes and using his magic to gradually slow his body functions until, for all intents and purposes, he was asleep.

After what seemed like a few minutes, Harry was 'awoken' by a sharp rap on the desk beside his head. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Harry looked up to see Professor Quirrel's face inches from his own.

"See m-me after c-class Mister P-P-Potter!" The professor stuttered as he stared directly into Harry's eyes. Sensing a light legilimency probe, Harry quickly averted his eyes, resolving to read more on mental magics when he had the chance, as his occlumency defenses were rudimentary at best.

"Yes, sir." Harry mumbled as he released his suppression of his body functions, feeling the tiredness disappear almost immediately. The rest of the class went by fairly quickly, although Harry caught Daphne looking at him questioningly several times. He would explain things to her after class.

Harry stayed behind as the rest of the students left, watching Quirrel just as the professor watched him. Then, when the last of the students left, Quirrel waved his wand and the door slammed shut.

"Mr. Potter, it was so nice of you to join us here today." Quirrel said, strangely without his usual stutter.

"I am sorry for sleeping in class, sir." Harry said, all the while gathering energy in his eyes for the observation.

"Oh, that? It is not a problem. I understand what it is like to be... bored with the basic, first year curriculum when there are such powerful magics available just beyond your reach..." The voice trailed off. The professor was speaking in a lower tone now, and his voice had taken on a slight hissing quality.

"I assume that you had a similar experience in school, sir?" Harry asked as he finished his preparations.

"You could say that." Quirrel said, slowly walking up to Harry, wand in hand. At that moment, Harry blinked briefly, the motion being the final step in activating what the book had called Mage Sight. With that motion, the color vanished from the room, with every mundane object simply becoming a grey piece of scenery. Small pinpricks of light indicated magical objects of varying power, the brighter the light, the more powerful the object. As it were, everything in the room was fairly insignificant in terms of power, but those were not what Harry was focusing on. Instead, Harry's entire focus was on Quirrel's magical core. Said core was a bright, luminous white, like that of a normal light wizard, save for one glaring abnormality. Thick, black tendrils gripped the core, as if strangling the bright ball of magic.

It was then that Harry noticed the colorless Quirrel's wand being raised, the instrument being aimed directly between his eyes, while the tendrils simultaneously expanded, as if trying to take more of the core than they already held. Then, with a blinding pulse of light, the core seemed to fight back, and the tendrils retreated, only to immediately start surging back to regain the ground they lost.

Harry blinked again, and the sight of Quirrel's core vanished, while color returned to the room. He saw Quirrel's wand shaking as it was still pointed between his eyes, although no curse came.

"G-get out, H-Harry P-Potter!" The professor suddenly shouted, his stutter returning, and Harry quickly gathered up his belongings, his plans of an interrogation ruined. Quickly walking towards the door, Harry felt the surge of magic behind him, and he quickly turned, raising his hand to conjure up a shield, but the curse was already in flight.

With a loud BANG!, the Reductor curse slammed into the wall next to Harry, showering the boy with debris.

"T-the third floor c-corridor! It's in t-the th-third floor c-corridor!" The professor shouted, right before Harry opened the door and ran out, slamming the door behind him. That had not gone as planned, Harry thought as he quickly walked away from the classroom. As he did so, he heard a muffled scream of agony coming from the room he had just left.

* * *

><p>Harry entered the Slytherin common room, only to find it almost completely empty. Normally, it would have been full of students from all years, working, talking, or simply relaxing, but at the moment only Daphne Greengrass was present.<p>

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked as he caught sight of the blonde girl lounging on one of the couches.

"Watching a duel. Apparently a pair of seventh years' families both proposed a pair of very lucrative marriage contracts to Marie Enoby, and her parents ordered the issue settled via a duel between the two suitors." Daphne replied, gesturing towards the entrance to the Slytherin dueling strip, which was the unique feature of the Slytherin common room. Every house's common room had something to set it apart from the others, such as Ravenclaw's library, Hufflepuff's kitchen and dining room, and it was rumored that Gryffindor's common room contained a gym of some sort, although nobody knew where the entrance was.

"It's about to start. Do you want to watch?" Daphne asked after a moment, and Harry nodded his acceptance, walking towards the dueling room. Said room was already packed full of students, who were watching the pair of seventh years bow to each other from behind ancient wards.

With their bows complete, the two students turned around and moved ten paces each, before turning back to face each other, wands at the ready, before opening fire. A scarlet stunner flew from the wand of one boy, impacting a silvery shield that the other boy had erected. While Harry was too far away to hear the muttered _Stupefy _and _Protego, _he easily identified the spells used. He would have loved to observe the duel with his Mage Sight, but doing so in such a crowded room would have blinded him as soon as he opened his eyes.

The duel rapidly escalated as the spells used moved away from stunners, the two seventh years now throwing puncturing curses, severing charms, and blasting curses at each other, with the occasional darker spell thrown in. After nearly a minute of neither wizard getting anywhere, a blasting curse from the boy on the left slammed into the ground beside the other dueler, the blast knocking the other boy off balance and making him an easy target for a puncturing curse, which pierced through the fallen boy's thigh, and knocking him out. At that point, the boy who was still standing turned to face the crowd, bowing to a tall, aristocratic looking girl in the front row. That was when a bludgeoning curse hit him in the head, knocking him out and breaking both his nose and his jaw, permanently ruining the seventh year's good looks. With that, the winning duelist limped over to where his opponent lay, and hit the downed boy with a stunner to make sure he stayed down.

Harry made note of how the winner glared at his opponent as he shot the stunner. Had this duel taken place outside of Hogwarts, one of the boys would have likely left the dueling strip in a casket. As it was, a pair of house elves appeared in the center of the room and picked up the loser and disapparated away to the Hospital wing, while the winner healed his wound with a muttered _Episkey._

The duel now over, the students inside quickly left the room, returning to whatever it was they were doing before. Soon, only Daphne and Harry remained in the dueling room.

"Allright, now that that's over, why don't you tell me the reason you faked sleep in Quirrel's class." Daphne said.

"It's simple. I wanted to know exactly why he was so creepily fascinated with me." Harry replied.

"That's it? If that was your only reason, you didn't have to risk point loss for our house." Daphne said.

"If all you are worried about is points, then think about this. When has Quirrel ever taken points from Slytherin?" Harry asked, causing Daphne to think for a moment before drawing a blank.

"Exactly. Even when he saw me sleeping, he simply told me to wait after class without taking any points away. Suspicious, right?"

"Not really, I mean Snape does the same thing, only much more noticeably."

"True, but we're getting off topic. The point is, I needed to get into a situation where I am alone with Quirrel, so I could interrogate him without risk of eavesdroppers."

"I see. So, did you find anything?" Daphne asked.

"Yes. There is something else merged with Quirrel's magical core, and that something wants to kill me." Harry said.

"So, you used some form of magical scanning to check Quirrel's core on a whim?"

"I did. If I didn't snap out of it when I did, I would have taken a reductor to the face, or worse. As it was, a reductor nearly hit me when I was leaving the room, although I think Quirrel missed on purpose."

"Wait, Quirrel actually tried to kill you?" Daphne exclaimed.

"I don't think Quirrel wanted to do it, rather, whatever is in his core made him, and he barely managed to stop himself from doing so." Harry explained.

"How can you be so calm about this? One of the professors, or whatever was possessing him at the time, tried to kill you!"

"Would panicking help?" Harry asked,

"No, I guess it won't. Did you learn anything else?" Daphne asked.

"Yes. Right before I left the room, Quirrel shouted something about 'It' being in the third floor corridor."

"What's in the third floor corridor?"

"I don't know, the professor just said 'It'."

"Funny you should mention the third floor corridor, Harry." Tracey Davis' voice made Daphne jump, while Harry turned to face the brown haired girl who had crept up on them while they were speaking.

"Oh? What do you know about the third floor corridor?" Harry asked.

"Surprisingly, not a lot. All I know is that I overheard the Weasels and Neville talking with Granger in the library. They were asking her about how they could, and I quote here, 'Get past that bloody three headed dog in the third floor corridor'." Tracey replied.

"Did they say anything else?" Daphne asked.

"No, Ron saw me nearby and quieted down. All I know is that there is a three headed dog, a Cerberus, in the third floor corridor, and it is guarding something, or else those boys wouldn't have been trying to 'Get past it'."

"And Quirrel's after whatever it is as well, so it must be something powerful." Daphne said.

"What about Quirrel?" Tracey asked, and Daphne briefly summarized what she and Harry had been discussing earlier.

"So let me get this straight. Quirrel is possessed by something, which wants to kill Harry and is after something on the third floor." Harry and Daphne nodded.

"Alright then, what do we do about it? Do we tell a professor, or do we sort things out ourselves?" Tracey asked.

"I want more information first, and I have just the way to get it. I want to know exactly what is in that corridor, and if possible, how to get at it. Daphne, can you inform Blaise of the situation?" Harry said.

"I will. What will you be doing in the meantime?" Daphne asked.

"I will be gathering information. Tracey, do you know where I can talk to Granger? Preferably alone?" Harry asked.

"She spends most of her time studying alone in the library." Tracey replied.

"Lead the way then." Harry said, standing up, the two girls doing the same, and walking out of the room. Once in the common room, Daphne went off to find Blaise, while Harry followed Tracey to the library.

"So, how are you going to get the information out of Granger?" Tracey asked as they walked through a corridor.

"She must do as I say. She has no choice in the matter." Harry replied without breaking stride.

"Blackmail?" Tracey asked.

"You'll see." Harry replied, and said no more. Soon, they reached the library, where Hermione was sitting, poring over a large volume on famous wizards of recent times. Tracey stood back and watched as Harry strode over to the girl, who was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't notice the presence of the two Slytherins.

"Hermione Granger, attend to me." Harry muttered, and the effect was immediate. Hermione stiffened at the words as a pang of agony shot through her body, her life debt's way of warning her. After a few moments, the twitches of pain subsided, as Hermione turned to Harry, her face betraying her anguish.

"What will you have me do, Harry?" Hermione asked, fearfully.

"First, you shall address me as Master when I am commanding you." Harry said.

"Yes, master." Hermione choked out through a fresh pang of agony.

"Good. Now, you will tell me what you are researching for the Weasley boy and why you are doing it." Harry said.

"Yes, master." Hermione began, "I am researching Nicholas Flamel, and I am doing so because Neville and the Twins said it was a good way to start making amends for the life debt I called in on Ron."

"Did any of them give you a reason as to why they wanted to know about Nicholas Flamel?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"What was that reason?"

"They said that something belonging to Flamel was stolen from Gringotts and brought here for safekeeping, and they wanted to know what it was so that they could protect it from you and Professor Snape." Harry stifled a laugh at that.

"Did they tell you how they found out about Flamel's property being here?"

"Yes, Ron said that Hagrid had invited him and Neville over for tea and accidentally let slip that Flamel was involved in the Gringotts break-in. Ron then said that he saw Hagrid at Gringotts the day of the break-in, and he had read in the Daily Prophet that the vault robbed had been emptied earlier on the same day, so Hagrid must have taken what was in the vault to Hogwarts to protect."

"Interesting. Did Ron let anyone else know about this besides you, Neville, and the Twins?" Harry asked.

"Not that I know of." Hermione replied.

"Thank you. Tell no-one of this conversation."

"Yes, master."

"Good. Hermione Granger, your services are no longer required." Harry said, and Hermione sighed audibly as the constant ache of the life debt vanished. She then looked around, and saw Harry and Tracey leaving the library, having gotten the information they needed.

"Remind me not to let you save my life any time soon." Tracey said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Was it that obvious?" Harry asked.

"Well, only the Imperius curse or a life debt could have gotten such absolute obedience, and given how Hermione was in obvious pain, it points towards a life-debt, as an Imperius is painless and once a person is under its thrall, there is no resisting it. I am sure there are other ways of getting that level of obedience, but a life debt is most likely, given how you saved her from the troll." Tracey explained.

"Very well then. Next time you're in mortal danger, I will just leave you for dead." Harry said, causing Tracey to laugh.

"Don't worry, I do not intend to place myself in mortal peril any time soon."

"Good." Harry said simply.

* * *

><p>The pair re-entered the Slytherin common room and found Blaise and Daphne waiting in a corner. Once the pair caught sight of Harry and Tracey, Daphne gestured towards the Girls' dormitories before standing up, with the rest of the group following her through the maze that made up the Slytherin dormitory complex until they reached Daphne's room. The inside of said room was much different from Harry's, as where Harry had a small library and a large desk for working inside his room, Daphne's room contained a smaller bookcase and writing desk, although her bed was much bigger and more comfortable looking, while a small circular table sat in the middle of the room. Once the door was closed, Daphne and Tracey sat down on the bed, while Harry sat down at the table, Blaise leaning against a wall.<p>

"So, Professor Quirrel is possessed by something and is trying to kill Harry, while simultaneously trying to obtain something located in the forbidden corridor which is guarded by a Cerberus." Blaise said.

"Yes, that is all correct." Harry said.

"Did you find out anything?" Daphne asked, and Harry nodded.

"Whatever is in the corridor belongs to Nicholas Flamel, and given how someone was willing to brave Gringotts' defenses to acquire it, it must be extremely powerful. Given that Flamel is its owner, it is most likely the Sorceror's Stone." Harry said.

"The what?!" Daphne exclaimed.

"As I said, it is most likely the Sorceror's Stone that Quirrel is after."

"I know what you said. I was merely shocked at Dumbledore's stupidity in placing that in a school full of children! If word got out, all sorts of unsavory characters would come after it, with Quirrel only being the first of many!"

"What is the Sorceror's Stone?" Tracey asked.

"It's a stone that can transmute any metal into pure gold, and can be used to create the Elixir of Life that allows its drinker to live forever." Blaise explained.

"I see. What was Dumbledore thinking?" Tracey demanded.

"You're all looking at this the wrong way. What if Dumbledore knew of this, and decided to leave the stone here anyway? What if the stone was simply the bait in a trap?" Blaise suggested.

"That could work, but who would merit such an elaborate set up? Surely not Quirrel!" Daphne said.

"It's Voldemort." Harry said, ignoring the slight gasps from the rest of the people in the room.

"You-know-who is dead, Harry, you of all people should know that." Tracey said.

"Not according to Dumbledore he isn't. When Dumbledore invited me into his office at the start of the year, he told me that he believed Voldemort to have used some sort of dark ritual to tie his soul into the mortal world, thus allowing him to survive the rebounding killing curse." Harry said.

"I see... it all fits! Whatever is left of You-know-who is possessing Quirrel, hence his behavior around Harry. The Stone would allow him to restore himself to his former self, and he is using Quirrel to obtain it for that end, but Dumbledore knows of this and has used the stone as bait in a trap of some sort. It all fits!" Tracey deduced.

"That makes sense. However, the question remains. What do we do about it? Do we just stay out of it, or should we take a more active role?" Daphne asked.

"I think we should just stay out of it. Dumbledore already has it under control." Blaise said.

"Does he? I am not so sure. If it weren't for Quirrel fighting back against Voldemort's possession, I would be dead. Dumbledore didn't seem to have that under control now, did he? Besides, now that we know of the stone, we might be able to take it for ourselves. I know I would like to study it." Harry said.

"That does sound like the better idea. If we were to get the stone, we would have a source of immortality and infinite wealth available to us for future use, thus securing our position in the Wizarding world." Daphne said.

"I agree. If Flamel was stupid enough to entrust such a powerful artifact into the care of another, he deserves to have it taken from him." Tracey added.

"I see that I, the sole voice of reason here, am outnumbered. I may as well go along with this stupid plan, if only to be the one who pulls you out of the fire." Blaise said.

"So it is agreed then. We will find a way to get to the Sorceror's stone and acquire it for our own use." Harry said.

"It is agreed." The rest of the room said.

"Good. Our first order of business is to find a way to get to the stone undetected. I already have the Marauders' Map, which will allow us to avoid teacher patrols, but magical wards and defenses will still detect us. We will need a way to bypass those." Harry said.

"I'll get on it." Daphne said.

"Good. Tracey, I want you to keep an eye out for anyone else involved with this. I want the stone to remain as secret as possible. If that means assassinating Ron for running his mouth, do it. Just contain the secret if at all possible."

"Sounds good." Tracey said.

"Excellent. Blaise, I want you to research possible ways of subduing a Cerberus, as well as to attempt to discover what other defenses are in place. Judging by the information I got from Granger, Hagrid might be a good place to start. However, until we are sure of what defenses are in place, you are not to enter the corridor itself."

"I understand, Harry. I'll see what I can do. Oh, and as for the Cerberus, they are pretty easily subdued. My family got much of its wealth from Magical Creature farms, and back when it was legal, we had a Cerberus as one of the creatures we were raising. As a result, I read quite a lot about various magical creatures, and a Cerberus is pretty easily subdued. Just play a little music and it will go straight to sleep."

"Good. That's one defense bypassed. In the meantime, I will keep an eye on Ron's group's progress via Hermione. I'll try to hinder their progress as much as I can while still getting as much information as I can. Are we all clear on our roles?" Harry asked.

"Since when did you become the leader?" Daphne asked.

"Is that a problem?" Harry asked.

"No, you would make a pretty good leader for our group." Tracey said, and Daphne nodded.

"Speaking of which, what do we call ourselves?" Daphne asked.

"Do we really need a name?" Blaise asked.

"We do." Tracey said firmly, locking eyes with him.

"Right! Every notable organization has to have a good name! I mean, You-know-who had his Death Eaters, and Dumbledore had his supposedly secret Order of the Phoenix, so we should have our own name as well!" Daphne said.

"How does Order of the Serpent sound?" Tracey suggested.

"Nope."

"No."

"Hell no." Came the responses of the other three people in the room.

"Order of the Dragon?" Tracey suggested again.

"Nope."

"No."

"Hell no."

"Oh, I got it! How about 'The Shadow Walkers!'"

"Nope."

"No."

"HELL NO!" Blaise Zabini screamed.

"Hey, at least I am suggesting something!" Tracey said indignantly.

"Fine. I think we should be called 'The League of Extraordinary Wizards.'" Blaise said. The rest of the room looked at him, disappointment clear on their faces.

"League of Extraordinary Serpents?"

"Even worse." Was the only response he got.

"Grrr... All the good names either sound pretentious, or like something out of a bad work of fiction, or both!" Tracey shouted.

"The Fictionals, maybe?" Blaise said, causing the rest of the room to look at him like he had grown a second head.

"HYDRA?" Blaise suggested.

"Already taken." Harry replied.

"How does Arcanum Association sound?" Daphne asked, thinking of the books.

"Pretentious, but I can't think of anything better." Blaise replied.

"I say we use it for now, at least until we can think of something better." Harry said.

"I agree with Harry." Tracey said.

Thus, it was on that day that the Arcanum Association was born. It's first order of business? To find a better name for itself. The search for a better name would later turn out to be a long, arduous journey for the Association members.

* * *

><p>The next day was Sunday, and it was the day of the first Quidditch match of the season. While Harry had next to no interest in the sport, he still had to attend, if only to have a conversation with his fellow Association members. However, Harry had underestimated the noise of the crowd, and thus could barely hear what Blaise was saying.<p>

As for the game itself, it could hardly be called a game, as the Gryffindor team, much like the rest of the house, was split into two parties. While most of the team was in the Griffin category and wanted nothing more than to win the match, the Weasley twins, who took the role of Beaters, had a different opinion as to how the game should be played. Harry had heard that the twins had gotten into a shouting match with Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Keeper and team captain, with the twins claiming that they should use the opportunity to send as many Slytherins as possible to the Hospital wing, while Oliver advocated fair play. Thus, it wasn't a surprise when one of the twins smacked a bludger directly at Wood, who, unprepared for the attack from his own teammate, took the bludger directly to the head, sending him out of the game. Apparently, the Gryffindor Seeker, a rather arrogant second year named Daryl Chuffley, noticed this, and flew up to the twin that hit the ball and started berating the older student for his behavior, only to have the second Bludger hit him in the back of the head, courtesy of the other twin.

With two critical players out of the game, Gryffindor's loss was ensured, and the Slytherin team soundly thrashed them, the game ending with a score of 490-20, with the Slytherin team spending nearly an hour toying with their red clad opponents, until they finally got sick of the game and told their Seeker to start looking for the Snitch, which was found in short order.

It was after the match ended that something of note happened, coming in the form of both bludgers suddenly pausing in midair when ordered to return to storage and, instead of returning to their storage case, the pair of bludgers made a bee-line for Harry, slamming into the stands where he was sitting not a moment before with enough force to pulverize bones, sending splinters flying. The two balls then circled around for another pass, only for Harry to reach for his wand. His wandless capabilities were, to the best of his knowledge, only known to Professor McGonnagall, the Association, and the unfortunates who had been on the receiving end of it. Thus, Harry raised his wand and fired a blasting curse at the first ball. The feeling of casting with a wand was much different from casting without, as when Harry cast wandlessly, it required some concentration on his part to shape and direct the spell, although Harry's experience with the art made focusing almost second nature to him. However, with a wand, it felt to Harry as if something else had just siphoned away a portion of his magic, a feeling that Harry found most unpleasant, hence his avoidance of the wand outside of class.

Regardless of the sensation it caused, Harry's curse hit true, and one of the bludgers exploded, the blast wave shoving the other ball off course, allowing Harry to dive out of the way when it came for him again. The ball didn't have a chance to go around again though, as another curse fired from the Teachers' stands shattered the second ball.

Harry scanned the stands for the source of the second curse, and saw Professor Snape holding his wand in the air. Harry would have investigated with Mage Sight, as he had found through experimentation that many spells left behind a residue as they traveled through the air, but the sheer amount of people in the stands would have permanently blinded him as soon as he activated the ability.

At that moment, Harry noticed that Snape was standing directly behind Professor Quirrel, and even from across the pitch, Harry could see the murderous expression on the professor's face. It was then that Harry realized that the Bludgers were only the first of many future attempts on his life by the possessed professor, and if he wasn't careful, an arranged 'accident' might just succeed in taking his life.

* * *

><p>The next time Harry saw Professor Quirrel, he was in a classroom full of Slytherin students, and thus he was as safe as he could be in such close proximity to the man. The professor's creepy observation had taken on an even more malevolent aspect, as while before the professor was simply happy to observe, now the man was obviously analyzing Harry for possible weaknesses.<p>

However, Harry was observing the professor as well, and had noticed several changes about the man. Although not immediately apparent, the man's eyes, which had once darted nervously around the room whenever they were not focused on Harry, were now dull and lifeless, as if all the life behind them had been sucked out. The stench of Garlic, already irritating due to Harry's vampiric nature, (The stench of Garlic was extremely irritating to Vampires, although it usually manifested itself as a minor allergic reaction rather than the repulsive effects that many modern wizards attributed to it.), had increased in magnitude, being powerful enough to cause Harry's eyes to tear up whenever he was in the vicinity of the professor. However, within the foul scent lay another one, barely detectable. Even to Harry's nose, which was a good deal stronger than a normal human's, the scent was barely detectable, but it was a scent that Harry was very familiar with, as it was prevalent in the back alleys of Knockturn. It was the scent of corpses that had just begun to rot. It was still faint, but even with preservative charms and garlic reducing and masking the smell, it would eventually overpower any attempt to hide it. In short, Harry had realized that whatever Voldemort had done, it had effectively killed the Professor, leaving behind his body as a puppet for the Dark Lord to control.

The Professor's stutter had taken on a slight, barely noticeable hissing quality, although said hissing seemed to reverberate within Harry's ears, making it so that whenever Quirrel stuttered out his S's it sounded like a snake had briefly made its home within his throat and was now hissing its displeasure at the class. Strangely, when Harry asked Daphne about this, she said that she had not noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Harry had shared his findings with the rest of the Association, at least, he had shared what he could justify without revealing his partial vampire status. His three associates had shared their own findings as well, and Harry was pleased for the most part.

While Blaise and Daphne had been inconclusive in finding out much more about the Stone's defenses, Tracey had effectively contained the secret, starting a rumor that the Third Floor Corridor was a containment area for incredibly dangerous creatures such as Nundus and Manticores that were being harvested for potions ingredients. As soon as Harry heard of her plan, he had forced Hermione into telling Ron, Neville, and the Twins that she had started the rumors to throw Harry off the trail, which had convinced the group of Gryffindors once she dropped Harry's name. Now that the secret was contained, the hunt for the stone had become a race between Harry's and Ron's groups, the latter having decided to call themselves the 'Order of the Lion'. Despite their new name, the Order was firmly behind the Association in the race to the stone, and it was an advantage that the Association was not going to lose in the near future.

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger had elected to stay home over Christmas Break, although it was not her decision to do so. At first, Ron and the Twins had tried to pressure her into staying so that they could use the time to look for leads on Flamel, but Hermione had refused. She wanted to spend time away from Harry Potter, the boy she once admired before she saw the true face of the supposed Boy-Who-Lived. Now she hated the black haired Slytherin with all her might. The life debt Harry had put on her had filled her entire waking day with a dull ache as she still subconsciously denied the fact that, with a single command, she was Harry's to do with as he pleased.<p>

Her hatred for the boy had only increased when, as she was walking down to the Great Hall to put her name on the list of students going home for the holidays that she ran into Harry himself, who had quickly used that accursed command of his to subvert her will and order her to stay at Hogwarts over Winter break.

She had been reduced to little more than a puppet, Hermione mused as she sat alone in the corner of the Common Room, watching a pair of Gryffindors engage each other in a duel. She was a puppet now, and Harry held her strings in an unbreakable grip. All Harry had to do was utter a simple phrase, and she would be his, with no choice but OBEY HARRY!

As that last thought crossed her mind, the ache from her life debt suddenly abated, causing Hermione to nearly shudder in pleasure as the pain that had been constantly coursing through her body suddenly abated. The relief was only momentary though, and the pain soon began to seep back into her body. Had she really been that blind? All this time, the pain had made her life a living hell, and all she had to do to stop it was think of OBEYING HARRY! At that thought, the pain disappeared again, but only for a brief moment.

However, it was during that moment that Hermione smiled for the first time in a month. She had done it! She had found a way to stop the Life Debt's pain! There was no point in resisting it, that just made the pain increase. All she had to do was OBEY! and the pain would fade away...

"Hey 'Mione, what are you smiling about? Have you found a lead on Flamel?" The voice of one of the Weasley twins sounded out right beside her. Looking up, she saw Fred, (or was it George?) looking down at her.

"Not really..." Hermione said, her smile fading away and the pain returning.

"Too bad for you, because Ronniekins found out exactly who the man is!" The other twin materialized beside his brother.

"Really?" Hermione asked, an excitement that had nothing to do with pain relief coloring her voice.

"You might not believe it, but it was on a chocolate frog card of all things! It said that Flamel worked with Dumbledore in discovering the twelve new uses of Dragon Blood and is supposedly a famous alchemist."

"I'll start looking through books on Alchemists then." Hermione said, and the twins nodded as one and left, firing off a pair of curses at an unlucky Griffin first year that happened to be in their line of sight. To his credit, the boy leaped out of the way and returned fire, a jelly-legs jinx striking one of the twins. That was when one of the boy's older friends noticed, and the Gryffindor Common room became a battlefield once more. Deftly dodging her way through the spellfire with practiced ease, Hermione made her way out of the common room and set off towards the library.

* * *

><p>Harry, meanwhile, had originally intended to leave the school for his home in Diagon, where he would be both safe and free to practice darker magics without needing to worry about the Headmaster, but he had eventually reconsidered, deciding to stay with Blaise at Hogwarts and continue with his attempts to get at the stone. Tracey and Daphne had elected to return home, and Harry had allowed them to go without a fuss on the condition that they bring back some equipment that could be used to assist the Association in its efforts.<p>

Daphne had promised to bring back something useful for detecting wards, while Tracey, being a half-blood, would attempt to look for a muggle solution. Sadly, Harry had to reject her original proposal of a pack of demolition charges, as those, while certainly effective, would draw too much attention to them. Then, he realized the suggestion was a joke and felt like an idiot.

The days leading up to Christmas saw the school being decorated with boughs of holly and sprigs of mistletoe, while a giant tree was set up in the Great Hall. Then, when the Break began, the castle suddenly emptied, with Slytherin in particular losing most of its inhabitants as the various pureblood heirs went home to attend various family functions.

The great hall itself had emptied, although some students could be found there throughout the day as there were no more classes, excluding remedial and accelerated courses. It was on one of those mornings that Harry saw Ron Weasley playing a game of Wizards' Chess against Seamus Finnigan. Leaning against the wall behind the redhead, Harry watched the game progress. He was soon forced to admit that Ron was actually quite skilled at the game, although Harry was no slouch at the game either, having spent hours playing against Arnold Grey in the bookstore down in Knockturn Alley. Of course, those could hardly be called games, what with the elderly wizard soundly thrashing Harry almost every time. In fact, Harry had only ever won once against the man, and that was on his eleventh birthday. The games of chess were often played during bouts of conversation, as Arnold told Harry stories of his childhood and of his life after Hogwarts.

A nostalgic smile on his face, Harry walked up to the pair, noticing that Ron had Seamus' king in check, and was exactly two moves away from winning. Evidently Ron noticed this too, and was quick to capitalize on the fact.

"Do you mind if I play the winner?" Harry asked, standing over Seamus' shoulder, watching as Ron made the final move and checkmated the king, which threw down its sword in disgust and bowed.

"Sure. I would love to see your face when I win." Harry smirked at that.

"Even if I lose, Chess is an excellent way of getting to know someone. Who knows? We might even come out of this on good terms." Harry said, his voice dripping with sickly sweet venom.

"You're on." Ron said, and reset the board, the match beginning Ron taking white, while Harry took black. The first game was over quickly, with Harry losing on purpose to the redhead in an attempt to discern the boy's strategy. It was immediately apparent that Ron's strategy depended on his choosing white and moving first, with an extremely aggressive yet effective playstyle.

"Aha! Looks like you're not so skilled after all you slimy snake!" Ron crowed as Harry's king was checkmated.

"Hmm. I think the stakes of this match were too low. How about a deal, Weasley?" Harry asked, keeping his voice neutral.

"Oh? What kind of deal?" Ron asked.

"Well, we both have an interest in the third floor corridor, do we not?" Harry asked.

"Yes..." Weasley said cautiously. Harry's eyes narrowed. The boy was a fool. Had Harry been in his place, he would have denied it, thus keeping his opponent unaware of the information.

"Well then, I propose that the loser tells the other something that they know about what's behind that door. How does that sound, Weasley?" Harry asked, and smiled as he saw his opponent's face light up in glee.

"I accept." Harry's smile grew broader as the redhead agreed.

"Very well then. Since I lost the first game, I'll start. The Sorceror's Stone is what I've found out to be behind that door." Harry said. It was a reply that simultaneously met the requirements of the deal whilst telling Ron nothing at the same time. Harry knew that Ron's group had already found out about the stone, but apparently Hermione had not been trusted with all the information, as she had simply told Harry that the Twins had, along with Ron, done something two days prior in order to probe the defenses of the Third Floor Corridor, but had not shared the information about what they found or how they found it. Harry hoped to use Chess as a way to get the information out of the group's weakest link, namely Ron. After all, while the Twins clammed up and intimidated Neville into doing the same, Ron was as loose lipped as ever.

"Ha! We already knew that!" Ron shouted again. Fool.

"Very well then. Shall we play?" Harry asked, and in response, Ron moved a pawn.

The game continued for nearly an hour, the two contestants soon realizing that their opponent was not one to be underestimated, often taking several minutes to plan each move. The piles indicating taken pieces on each side of the board were almost equal in height as the game progressed.

The game then shifted in Harry's favor as a particularly aggressive move from Ron put the white Queen in danger, and it was promptly taken by one of Harry's knights, the black knight trampling the Queen into rubble. With his primary offensive piece taken out, Ron's offensive strategy was broken, and Harry promptly began his own offensive, favoring his knights. Even as Harry's pieces slowly and systematically eliminated Ron's pieces, the young Weasley attempted to regain his offensive initiative, although he failed to do so. Soon, Harry's victory was clear as day, but Harry decided not to end the game. Instead, he hunted down and exterminated every last piece on the board, until only the king was left. It was then that Harry finally allowed Ron to be checkmated, ending the game.

"Well? I believe you lost, so you have to tell me what you know." Harry demanded.

"I don't care! I don't have to tell you anything!" Ron retorted.

"How very Slytherin of you, Ronald. I'm surprised, maybe the hat made a mistake in sorting you. Maybe I should spread the word amongst the rest of my house, that Ronald Weasley is a little snake in disguise!" Harry said, and was pleased to note Ron's face turn purple.

"Fine!" The redhead said, and leaned over to whisper something to Harry.

"Fred and George were looking around the room with the dog and saw that the trap door was damaged somehow, like someone had tried to blast through but failed. It was probably Snape, but anyway, they got Neville to hand over his rememberall, which they cast some kind of remote viewing spell on, and rolled it into the room and down the crack in the trap-door. It then fell into some kind of plant, Devil's Snare I think Neville called it, and after it fell through that it rolled into a room full of flying keys with a pair of brooms in the room to catch them. I don't know anything else, I swear!" Ron leaned back, leaving behind a very shocked Harry. After all, while he knew that Ron was somewhat lacking in the intelligence department, he never thought that the Weasley boy would be that stupid.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Weasley. It has been a pleasure." Harry smiled. Checkmate indeed, he thought as he walked away, intending to share his findings with Blaise.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure Weasley wasn't lying?" Was the first thing Blaise responded with when Harry shared the news with him.<p>

"Had it been anyone else, that would have been my first thought. However, Ron isn't exactly the fastest broom in the closet if you get my drift." Harry replied.

"I know that, but this seems a bit much, even for him!" Blaise replied.

"It was too specific to be a lie that Ron came up with on the spot, and even if the twins had told him what to say in that situation, he would have been obviously lying. Ron isn't a Slytherin, Blaise. If he is destined to become a liar, he sure as Merlin isn't one yet." Harry said, and Blaise nodded his head in agreement after a few seconds of thought.

"Very well. Now, what do we do with this information, Oh Great Leader?" Blaise said, smirking.

"We find a way to get past them, of course. Devil's Snare shouldn't be too hard, and we'll be covering it in Herbology come Spring. As for the Keys, I believe we have a few options. We can either blast down the door, which would save us a whole load of trouble as none of us play Quidditch, much less as a Seeker, unless of course, the door is warded to prevent such a thing. The alternative is to either summon the key with the spell we conveniently learned last month, or jump on the broom and catch the key we need." Harry replied after a few moments of thought.

"The keys will probably be warded against summoning. Dumbledore wouldn't want Quirrel thinking that the trap is too easy." Blaise replied.

"That is unfortunately likely. So, the only two choices I see would be to either play the game or to blast the door down, and the door might be reinforced against that as well."

"Well, we have plenty of time to look for possible solutions." Blaise said, and Harry agreed. The two boys then parted ways, one heading up to the Library to converse with a certain witch, while the other stayed downstairs to study.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, while Blaise and Harry were discussing the stone's defenses, a second conversation was going on in the Headmaster's office.<p>

"I assume you have summoned me here for a reason?" A slightly irate looking Professor Snape asked, sitting in a chair across from Dumbledore.

"Yes, Severus, I must confess that I did not just call you up here for an idle chat." Dumbledore replied, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I am concerned, Severus, about one of your students, and I believe you know which one."

"Who, Potter?" Snape asked.

"Yes, I am concerned about young Mr. Potter. How is the boy settling in? Have any students from more... questionable families tried anything overt?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not that I am aware of. Many have written home to their parents, or at least, their closest family that have managed to stay out of Azkaban, and awaited for instruction, but in general they seem to have left Potter alone, with the exception of Malfoy and Nott. My Godson has attempted to make several moves against Potter, but has been soundly rebuffed every time. I believe that the last attempt left him unconscious on the Dueling strip with several nasty wounds. As for Nott, the boy seems to be acting more like a member of his house. The boy is plotting something, that is for sure, but what that is I cannot say for certain. What I do know, however, is that the boy has lately received several parcels via the Owl Post, and I had the opportunity to examine one. It contained several ingredients needed for the Draught of Eternal Nightmares, namely Boggart Blood and Brain Fluid from a Chimpanzee. Amateur, Human brain fluid achieves much better results." That last sentence was whispered rather than said aloud.

"So, you think that young Theodore Nott may attempt to poison Harry?"

"Exactly. The Draught of Eternal Nightmares does exactly what its name suggests, namely ensuring that its drinker experiences terrible nightmares whenever asleep. The Dark Lord ordered me to make it on several occasions, and I saw firsthand how it reduces its victims to gibbering wrecks who see their worst fears manifest whenever they close their eyes."

"That is grave news, Severus. I thank you for alerting me to this development. Hopefully, we can nip this thread in the bud before it takes root. I trust you know how to brew the antidote?"

"I do, but it will take a month to brew, much like the poison itself, and it is only good for a week after brewing. In addition, several ingredients are quite rare, so it is not something that I can just make on a whim. Thus, Harry would need to be exposed to the poison before I can brew the antidote, lest I risk some incredibly expensive and difficult to replace reagents."

"Very well. However, you are to make every possible effort to make sure that Nott does not succeed. I believe you know the consequences of this plot if it were to succeed, do you not?" Dumbledore asked, and Snape growled, remembering the life debt that James Potter had called in shortly before his death.

"I understand. Now, is there anything else you wish to ask of me?" Snape asked.

"Yes. What can you tell me about Harry himself? I ask this, partially out of simple concern for his well being, but also due to something else. When I last spoke with him, Fawkes had indicated his concern about the boy. While Fawkes cannot speak directly with me, he is capable of sending me various emotions, and when he investigated Harry, he send me one of caution. So I ask again, Severus. Is there anything about the boy that would cause Fawkes to worry so?"

"To the best of my knowledge, no there is not. Although he is often quiet and tends to isolate himself from those that are not members of his little group of friends, he does not seem to have any particularly dark quality about him. However, I have taken the opportunity to observe him during our Supervised Study sessions, and have found him to be in possession of some rather questionable reading material."

"Really now? What has Mr. Potter been reading?"

"It seemed to be an encyclopedia of some sort. I was unable to catch the title, but it seemed to contain information on rituals, albeit it seemed to hold very little in terms of practical examples. The theory, on the other hand, was rather advanced, being far beyond anything an ordinary First Year student should be able to comprehend."

"Rituals? That is cause for concern, although I don't believe that Harry has had the opportunity to delve too deep into that particular art. Still, he may have performed a few minor rituals that require fairly little in terms of sacrifice, and that may have been what tipped Fawkes off. Thank you, Severus. Unless there is anything else you may want to report, you may leave." At that, Severus stood and left, his robes billowing about him as he walked out. Dumbledore sighed as Snape left the room, his mind hard at work, looking for a good way to approach the boy. He already planned to gift the boy his father's invisibility cloak, which, while it was never his, would be a move to make Harry more trusting of him. It truly sickened Dumbledore to manipulate a child's trusts like this, but if Voldemort still lived it would be necessary to ensure the prophecy's completion.

Oh how he loathed that prophecy! Because of it, two truly wonderful people were dead and their child had been robbed of a normal childhood, his life written away before it had even begun. Had Trelawney not made that prophecy, Dumbledore would have tracked Voldemort down and dueled him to the death much like he had with Grindlewald, but once the drunken seer spoke those accursed words it was all useless. Dumbledore had wept with joy, much like the rest of the Wizarding world, when Harry had defeated the Dark Lord, and it was then that he swore to himself that he would ensure that Harry would have as happy a childhood as possible before Voldemort returned. Dumbledore swore that he would do everything in his power to ensure that Harry's final defeat of Voldemort was as simple and easy as possible. Harry would only need to do the bare minimum to fulfill the prophecy, and Dumbledore would take care of everything possible behind the scenes. Then, when Voldemort was truly gone, Dumbledore would pass the mantle of Leader of the Light to the young boy, and thus ensure the stability and prosperity of the wizarding world.

With that in mind, Dumbledore decided on a course of action. He would place the Mirror of Erised in an area where Harry could easily find it under the invisibility cloak. As the boy doubtlessly yearned for a family, he would most likely see his parents in the mirror, and then Dumbledore would speak to him, console him, and ensure that he was both happy and motivated to overcome the obstacles in his life.

The thought of the cursed mirror brought a tear to Dumbledore's eye as the old wizard remembered what he saw reflected. He saw his sister Arianna, who had grown into the beautiful woman that Dumbledore always knew she would become. He saw her living the life that he had denied her, first through neglect, then... Dumbledore still lived with the guilt from that fateful day. He never did find out if he was the one who cast the curse that killed his sister.

Sighing, Dumbledore reached out and popped a lemon drop laced with Calming Draught into his mouth. He was getting old, that much was certain. He only hoped that he could, in the final years of his life, impart as much as possible to the young Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>It was on Christmas Day that Harry was awoken by an overly enthusiastic Blaise outside his door.<p>

"Harry! Wake up! We've got presents!" The normally composed boy screamed as Harry blearily opened the door in his face. While Harry normally got up early in the morning, he had stayed up late the previous night taking part in the celebrations within the Slytherin common room, and decided to sleep in.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he stumbled out of the room, following the now hyperactive Blaise into the common room, where several piles of presents lay, each labeled for their respective recipients.

Quickly sorting out the gifts meant for him, Harry began to quickly and efficiently open each package, a neat pile of wrapping paper soon forming on one side, with the gifts being laid out on his other side.

The first gift Harry had opened was from Arnold Grey. The old shopkeeper had sent him a Wizard's Chess set, and the note said that the old man had made it himself. It had obviously been the product of several months' hard work, with the white pieces being carved of marble, while the black ones were made of obsidian. However, what truly made the set unique was that, as the pieces were apparently soaked in a modified variant of the polyjuice potion, they could be changed at will to take the form of anyone who had touched them, and the effect would last as long as the runic array on the bottom of the piece was charged. Attached to the instructions was a note thanking Harry for the handmade jewel based lamp that Harry had made. Apparently Harry's gift had arrived early.

Harry had briefly read through the Exotic Magics volume of the Encyclopedia, looking for a particular field that he could use for a gift. He eventually had decided on jewel based magic, and had used an emerald from his vault as the light source within the lamp, with the framework being made of magically shaped silver. Although Harry's knowledge of jewel based magic was extremely basic, with him only being able to utilize gemstones as magical batteries instead of using them to their full potential, Harry knew enough to combine the jewel with his much more advanced knowledge of runes to turn the lamp into a passable anti-vampire and werewolf weapon, with the runes acting to reinforce and magically sharpen the silver edges of the lamp, while the stand could double as a hilt. However, while it was only a mediocre weapon, Silver was extremely poisonous to vampires and werewolves, provided that the metal got into the victim's body. Even in his partially transformed state, it would only take a quarter of a gram of silver to cause permanent damage to Harry's body, provided that the metal got into his bloodstream. However, even a fully transformed Vampire or Werewolf could touch silver and not be affected, the metal only being dangerous if it entered their blood.

Daphne, meanwhile, had sent Harry a book on Warding and Ward detection, which in turn reminded Harry that there was an entire volume of the Encyclopedia devoted to the subject, albeit it was a book that Harry had not yet started to read. In return, Harry had sent her a silver and emerald necklace that he had found in the Potter vault and enchanted by carving a runic matrix into the emerald which would absorb incoming spells and store their energy within the emerald. Of course, it would do nothing against the unforgivables and a physical blow would be completely ignored, but it could stop most spells in the Hogwarts curriculum. The only problem was that, if the energy was not somehow discharged, the emerald would eventually overflow and explode in a blast akin to a Muggle fragmentation grenade. Thankfully, it was fairly easy to discharge the energy within the emerald, and the jewel would glow brighter as the amount of energy contained within increased, but in a prolonged duel it was a very real danger. Thus, Harry had cautioned Daphne about using the pendant, and had promised to 'Fix it later'.

Tracey, on the other hand, had simply sent a large collection of Wizarding Candies, while Harry sent her another necklace similar to Daphne's, with an identical warning attached.

Blaise, on the other hand, had gotten a book on runes, while Harry had received a wizard's metalworking kit. Apparently the boy had noticed Harry working on Arnold's present and decided to make future jobs easier on him. Harry thanked the boy in person, remembering how hard it was to bend the silver into shape, both with magic, which Silver was resistant to, and later by hand, with protective gloves on to prevent the metal from cutting into him. However, Harry was surprised when, after he had incinerated an obviously booby-trapped present from the Weasley Twins, there was another, hastily wrapped present addressed to him. Opening it, Harry found a silvery, almost immaterial cloak contained within. The ancient looking garment seemed unblemished, and shimmered as its new owner passed it through his hands. That was when Blaise looked over and gasped.

"Harry, that's an invisibility cloak!" The boy shouted.

"So it makes me invisible?" Harry asked.

"Obviously! They're really rare though... who would go through the trouble of sending one to you?" Blaise mused, and his question was answered when a note fell out of the cloak. It was short and to the point, reading:

_Your Father left this in my possession before he died. I now return it to you, use it well._

"It doesn't say who it's from, but I can take a guess." Harry said.

"You think it was Dumbledore?" Blaise asked.

"He does seem likely. After all, my parents both fought alongside him during the war." Harry said, before putting the cloak on.

"Wicked..." Blaise gasped as Harry completely vanished from view.

"Can you see me?" Harry asked.

"What do you think?" Blaise replied.

"Good. You know what this means, right?" Harry asked. After a few seconds of thought, Blaise replied.

"We have our method of infiltration." The boy said, grinning.

"Precisely. With this, we will be able to travel the school after curfew and remain undetected. In fact, shall we take it out for a test run tonight?" Harry asked.

"Can we both fit under it?" Blaise asked.

"I am pretty sure that all of us can fit under it at the moment, although I doubt that will remain unchanged." Harry said.

"Then by all means, let's go!" Blaise said, and Harry grinned under the cloak. Dumbledore, if that was indeed the gift's sender, had all but handed the stone to the Association.

* * *

><p>That night, the door to the Slytherin common room briefly opened, despite there being no-one there. Under the cloak, Harry and Blaise exchanged looks, and set off on the first of many nocturnal ventures, safely hidden from prying eyes. Their job was simple- To detect any wards around the third floor corridor using the knowledge they had gained from hurriedly reading through the Wards and Enchanting volume of the Encyclopedia and 'Warding: A Primer', the book that Daphne had sent them. From that reading they had learned that most wards were very easily detected, although disabling them without the caster's permission usually took a team of highly skilled wizards. As Blaise and Harry lacked the knowledge, skill, and equipment to successfully disable even basic wards, their job that night would simply be detection. Once they knew of the wards placed on the entrance, they would then head back to the common room.<p>

After arriving unimpeded at their destination, the pair split up, with Harry slipping out from under the cloak, as magical artifacts such as invisibility cloaks would interfere with the ward detection process, while Blaise stayed under the cloak as a lookout. Then, when Blaise tapped his shoulder, signalling that the coast was clear, Harry knelt down and got to work.

"_Reveal Ward: Visibly" _Harry incanted. He loved multilingual incantations, they made it so much easier for him to visualize and focus on the desired effect. He had practiced the spell in the Slytherin Common room, using it to detect the Hogwarts Wards, and thus the spell was cast successfully, with a bright white ribbon appearing out of thin air. The ribbon stayed white for a few seconds as the spell searched for wards in the immediate vicinity. Then, the ribbon changed color, becoming striped with hundreds of multicolored bars, some bigger than others. It was stated in both the Encyclopedia and 'Warding: A Primer' that each ward had its own frequency range, which showed up on Harry's detection spell as a bar of color. The more powerful the ward, the greater its frequency range, making said ward appear as a thicker bar on the detection spell. In the case of multiple wards being cast in the same area, each ward had to have its frequency range set so that it does not overlap with any other ward, otherwise both overlapping wards will interfere with each other and either render themselves both inert or worse, the two overlapping wards would mutate into something strange, as was evidenced in 1949, when American Warder John Hope accidentally planted an identification ward completely inside a powerful Magical Creature repelling ward, which resulted in the first, last, and only documented case of what was termed to be an 'Eldritch Abomination', which rampaged and destroyed the Quodpot Stadium that was being built, along with several acres of surrounding land and killing nearly thirty wizards before finally running out of energy and dissipating into thin air. The survivors of the incident were reported to have developed an extreme irrational fear of tentacles afterwards. This tale proved that Warding was indeed a very serious business.

However, while two wards' frequencies overlapping could lead to some very nasty issues, it was also true that wards became much harder to undo when their frequency ranges were very close together but not overlapping. Thus, a truly skilled warder could put two wards together until their frequencies were so close that one would need a microscope to see where one ward ended and another began on a visual detection spell like Harry's. Of course, the spell Harry was using was extremely basic, but it was the best he could do on such short notice.

His spell complete, Harry reached out to Blaise, who handed him a long roll of parchment that Harry had one of the older Slytherins paint for him. On it was a depiction of the detection spell results from the Slytherin Common Room. Now, all Harry had to do was search for discrepancies between the two pictures.

It quickly became apparent to Harry that the door did not have any particularly powerful wards placed on it, as the two detection spell results seemed identical at first glance. It was then that Harry pulled out another tool from his pocket, this one being a transfigured magnifying glass, which he used to start searching for minor wards, such as identification and tracking wards, that would barely register on the detection spell due to their incredibly small frequency ranges. Harry's meticulous efforts eventually paid off when he found a tiny identification ward placed next to what he had tentatively identified as the Hogwarts Tracking Ward, which kept track of the positions of all people within the school. It was most likely designed to identify anyone who entered. A second ward, also nearly undetectable, was placed right beside it, most likely a notification ward. It was a classic Identification-Notification setup described in 'Warding: A Primer', where the two ward were placed next to each other and linked together. It was barely detectable without scrupulous investigation, making it a perfect method of alerting Dumbledore when his prey took the bait.

Harry had finished going through about half of the results when Blaise tapped him twice on the shoulder. It was the signal that they agreed would mean that someone was coming. At that, Harry cut power to the detection spell, causing the multicolored ribbon to disappear into thin air, while the parchment was rolled up with a flick of his wrist. Then, Harry got under the cloak and was hidden from view.

Sure enough, Harry had barely gotten himself situated under the cloak when a group of four Gryffindors came around the corner.

"Remind me, what are we doing again?" Ron asked.

"Well, 'Mione here thinks she has found a way to get past that dog, and we're here to check." One of the twins said. It was then that Harry noticed that Hermione had a flute clutched in her hands.

"_Alohomora!" _One of the twins incanted, waving his wand at the door, and with a loud click, the door was unlocked.

"Allright 'Mione! You're up!" The other twin said, gesturing towards the door. However, before the clearly frightened girl could open the door, there came the sound of footsteps approaching, and the group scattered, with Hermione hiding right next to where Harry stood under the cloak. Leaning over to her ear, Harry quickly whispered.

"Hermione Granger, Attend to me." At that, Hermione stiffened.

"Do not say anything." Harry whispered as Hermione moved to ask him what he wanted.

"Give me the flute." Harry continued, and with that he quickly took the instrument from her. Then, less than a second later, Professor Quirrel walked around the corner.

"Now sneeze." Harry ordered, and with that, Hermione cast a sneezing jinx, a fairly useless spell they had learned in DADA, on herself. The resulting sound immediately drew Quirrel's attention.

"W-Whoever's th-there, c-c-come out n-now!" The professor stuttered.

"Tell no-one of this conversation. Hermione Granger, your services are no longer required." Harry whispered, and Hermione turned away. The movement, however, was noticed by the Professor, who quickly strode over and grabbed the Gryffindor First Year. As he did so, his hand brushed over the cloak, causing the man to stiffen and turn towards the pair of Slytherins. For a moment, Harry's eyes met Quirrel's, causing Harry to gasp. Although it was not very noticeable in the dark hallway, the man's eyes were now a dark red. The gasp alerted Quirrel to his presence, however, and the man reached out, attempting to grab the cloak. Harry quickly stepped back, but he bumped into Blaise as he did so, the boy stumbling and barely managing to avoid falling. However, the noise caused Quirrel's eyes to narrow, and the man strode forward, briefly ordering Hermione to stay where she was.

As the possessed professor drew closer, Harry nudged Blaise, and together they began to slowly move away, careful not to make too much noise. However, the professor continued to follow them, and Harry soon found out why. It was the cloak. The cloak sliding against the ground made a faint, normally unnoticeable hiss, but in the silent halls it may as well have been a siren advertising their position.

"Blaise. Keep moving until you see an open room. We'll duck in there and stop moving." Harry whispered and Blaise nodded. After a few minutes that seemed like hours to Harry, Blaise nudged him, gesturing towards a room with its door ajar. As one, the pair moved towards the door and slid inside the room, their small frames allowing them to enter without moving the door itself. As soon as they were inside, the pair pressed themselves against the wall. Peeking outside the door, Harry saw Quirrel stalk past. About a minute passed, and Harry was about to sigh in relief when the door was pushed open again and Quirrel barged in. Staying absolutely still, Blaise and Harry watched the professor carefully look around, searching for his prey.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Quirrel growled in frustration and stormed out of the room. A minute passed, then another, and then another, before finally Harry released the breath he had been holding, sighing in relief. It was then that Harry noticed the mirror. A tall mirror with an ornate frame was the only piece of furniture in the room. Across the top of the gilded frame was an inscription, reading: "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on whosi". The mirror itself was completely blank, with its surface frosted over.

"We'll wait here for a while, then head back to the common room." Harry said, and Blaise nodded. Sighing, the pair slipped off the cloak and sat down. That was when Blaise gasped.

"The mirror! Look at the Mirror!" Blaise said, and Harry turned. The Mirror's surface was no longer frosted over. Instead, Harry saw himself staring back at him. However, it was no reflection shown within the mirror.

Mirror-Harry was older, for one, and much better dressed. The image was sitting down on a rather ornate throne, a silver crown studded with emeralds on his head. Older versions of Blaise, Tracey, and Daphne stood around him, while Hermione lay on the ground in chains at his feet. Meanwhile, a red-headed boy knelt in front of him, likely an older Weasley. As Harry looked on, Mirror-Harry smiled cruelly, showing off a pair of elongated fangs, and with a flash of scarlet light, the Weasley's body exploded in a burst of blood, some of which landed on Mirror Harry's face and was promptly licked up. Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that his mirror self's eyes were still bright green, but the pupils within were slitted and catlike.

What was the mirror showing him? Harry wondered as he watched his mirror self pause to take a drink of a reddish liquid, either wine or blood, from a crystal goblet. Did it show the future?

His eyes were then drawn to the top of the mirror, and he read the inscription once more.

"It seems that two of the brightest students in Hogwarts have discovered the delights and perils of the Mirror of Erised." The wizened voice drew Harry's attention. Tearing his eyes away from the mirror, Harry turned to see Albus Dumbledore smiling benignly at him.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

"In the flesh, my boy." Dumbledore replied.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked.

"Why, I am the current owner of this delightful mirror. It is truly a powerful artifact, the Mirror of Erised. Powerful, but perilous, as greater men than myself have wasted away before it." Dumbledore replied, still smiling.

"What does it do, sir?" Harry asked.

"It gazes into your heart, my boy, and reflects what it sees."

"What does it show?" Harry asked, letting a little irritation creep into his voice.

"I am sure you can determine it yourself, but I shall give you a clue. The happiest man in the world will look into this mirror and see nothing but himself." That line caused Harry to think, and then it came to him as he imagined the inscription.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire. The mirror shows what we want most in this world!" Harry exclaimed.

"Correct, my boy. Now, can you see why it is so dangerous?" Dumbledore asked.

"I do..." Harry said, turning back to the mirror only to see Blaise standing up against it, his hand touching the glass. Harry could see tears in the boy's eyes.

"Blaise!" Harry said. The boy did not respond.

"Blaise! Snap out of it!" Harry ran up to the boy. "Blaise, it isn't real!"

Those last words cause Blaise to turn to Harry.

"I... I know." The boy, who was normally the picture of calm composure, choked out.

"Do not worry, Blaise. Greater men have fallen under the mirror's sway and wasted away." Dumbledore said, walking over and putting an arm around the crying boy.

"What did you see?" Harry asked, curious as to what could have done this to his friend.

"I... I don't want to talk about it. It will never happen..." Blaise trailed off.

"What about you, Harry? What did you see?" Dumbledore's question set Harry's thoughts racing. If he told the truth, Dumbledore would see through the web of deception that Harry had been trying to weave around him, but Harry did not know what Dumbledore would want him to say, so he decided to make something up.

"I'm minister of magic, sir. I'm sitting down, having tea in my office with my friends. I can see in outside through a window... and the world looks better. We're all smiling, anyhow." Harry said. It was true, his friends' mirror selves were indeed smiling, although in a manner much crueler than what Dumbledore would have liked, while flashes of scarlet light indicated the execution of people Harry would doubtlessly have hated.

"It warms my heart to hear that, Harry. It truly puts an old man's mind at peace knowing that people like you will succeed him..." Harry smiled at that, "... Now run along! I am sure that Professor Quirrel has left by now." At that, Blaise walked over and picked up the cloak, but Harry stayed behind.

"Professor... what do you see?"

"I see... I see my funeral. I see myself leaving behind a world that is a better, happier place." Dumbledore said after a few moments.

"A noble desire, Professor." Harry said.

"As is yours, my boy. Now, off you trot! You cannot make your dreams into reality if you spend all your time staring at what could be!" Dumbledore smiled, and Harry smiled back, before turning around and ducking under the cloak, disappearing from view. As he left the room with Blaise, his mind raced. He clearly had Dumbledore's trust at this point, and he would be a fool to waste that trust.

After all, if the old man trusted him, then that meant his plans were going as planned, and a good plan was what set Slytherins apart from the others. Despite a certain blonde's attempts to prove the contrary, a Slytherin was not defined by his lineage or the purity of his blood. A true Slytherin was a planner and a snake. A true Slytherin was ambitious, and had the cunning to achieve said ambition. A true Slytherin was a man who would give a charming smile, all while planning how to best use another. A true Slytherin would gain his enemies' absolute trust before twisting a dagger into their backs, and Harry considered himself a true Slytherin in all respects.

Smiling under the cloak, Harry left the room, leading Blaise back to the Slytherin common room. As he left, he could have sworn he saw Mirror-Harry wink and smile in his direction, before raising his goblet and toasting to his success.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whew! Finally done with this chapter! I hope this chapter meets your expectations, and that future chapters continue to do so. I hope you like how I portrayed Quirrel, because I sure do! In addition, I am particularly proud of the Mirror of Erised scene. Twenty points to whoever can correctly guess what Blaise saw.**

**With regards to the Deathly Hallows, I will be buffing them quite a bit as the canon versions are a little disappointing IMO. I mean, a supposedly unbeatable wand that was confirmed to have been defeated in a duel at least once (I'm looking at you, Grindlewald), a stone that kinda, sorta, not really brings back the dead, and a cloak that supposedly allows you to hide from death but can be easily seen through with an enchanted eyeball are all pretty disappointing when it comes to artifacts that were supposedly made by death itself.**

**In addition, I will be buffing Voldie a bit, as well as making him seem more 'Dark Lord' ish, as in the books he is built up to be pretty strong, but eventually ends up becoming just another generic evil dude. In fact, I think Umbridge was portrayed better than Voldemort as a villain, but that's just my personal opinion on the subject. Regardless, I'll be making Voldemort a more realistic threat to Harry that won't be Care-Bear'd away by the power of love. No, Harry will have to work hard in order to beat the man.**

**Anyway, I think that's all, folks! If you notice any glaring plot holes or inconsistencies, please don't hesitate to alert me so I can rectify the problem. Suggestions and constructive criticism are appreciated! **


End file.

Harry Potter, Fantasy