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themadhatterofficial · 4 years ago

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Eyes, Bodies, and Potions

The Golden Trio was always meant to take down Voldemort.

Perhaps, if things happened a bit differently, if the pieces managed to link together in another way...

(Dark Golden Trio AU)

********************

Harry Potter only knew violence growing up.

The young boy hidden away in the cupboard under the stairs would sit in fear and anticipation as heavy footsteps pounded above and rattled the dust onto his tiny bed. He had a single mirror in his cupboard that Aunt Petunia had given him as a Christmas present after his uncle had slammed his head into it hard enough to cause cracks to run through it like an overzealous spiderweb.

No matter how many times he tried to avoid it, Harry always ended up watching himself in the dingy glass. In anything remotely reflective, really.

Everywhere Harry went, people commented on his eyes. On how pretty they were, how they made him look respectable, how much they stood out against the darkness of his skin and the heavy bangs that resembled a rat's nest at the best of times.

It had jump started Harry's obsession.

Everywhere he went, Harry would stare at eyes. Brown ones, blue ones, grey ones, green ones, and every mix you could think of. He liked the emotions that ran through them, how they told stories that faces and bodies would never reveal.

He could see the happiness when a couple held hands.

He could see the fear when a man gripped his girlfriend's arm a little too tight.

He could see the joy in a father's eyes when his baby snuggled further into his neck.

The fear was nice sometimes. When it was someone who deserved it. Like when Dudley's friend Henry punched Harry hard enough to take out his baby tooth and split his lip. Harry had launched forward and kept hitting and hitting and hitting until Henry was crying too hard to make noise and he was covered in reds and blues that never blossomed on Harry's deep skin.

(Henry's eyes were grey. They were scared. It was nice.)

(Henry's parents also moved their whole family far away from the neighborhood the very next week. Harry chalked it up to coincidence.)

Harry liked the happiness a lot more than the sad or scared ones. He liked sitting in the little park far from the Dursleys' and letting the long cuffs of his torn hand-me-downs scrape below the swing, watching the happy families laugh and jump and run around with one another without caring about anything else.

For as long as Harry could remember, he had wanted that. He longed for it. He would sit in his tiny cupboard on the last night of July and beg and plead whoever was up there for someone to find him. At first, Harry wished for someone to take him away. Now, Harry would be content with someone approaching him to just talk. It was a far-fetched dream, something he only dared to dream of in the quiet darkness when he pretended that his parents weren't worthless drunks who cared for the bottle more than their son. That he had a mother that took the time to tame his bird's nest of a head and read to him at night, that he had a father who taught him how to play chess and cook breakfast for his mum in bed, and maybe even an uncle that bought him secret ice creams that ruined his dinner and taught him how to talk to pretty girls at school and maybe even a sister who laughed too loud and grinned too wide and let him wrap her up in soft blankets when she was too cold to ask for it.

But for now, Harry would settle for their eyes.

********************

Ron Weasley, in Ron Weasley's opinion, was not very special.

He was the sixth child of seven in his impoverished family. He got hand-me-down everything, and was expected to do as well as his brothers, if not better. It was nothing special if he could do this, because Percy could too, and if he could do that, well, Bill already had years before.

Sometimes Ron wished he was an only child, if only for the attention he would have.

(He never wanted his siblings dead, Merlin no. He loved them all and wished them the best, even if he was a bit jealous of them.)

Perhaps this was why he was often seen hanging on Harry or Hermione's arm, spending every bit of his free time with the first things that were his, and only his.

They weren't things, and Ron knew this. He knew that they were people, and he knew that they were their own people. He never claimed them aloud, and especially didn't hint at it to Harry. He was already treated like a Thing by his muggles. They locked him away and took him out when he was of use. Ron wanted to be with him all the time, even when he didn't listen and remained as stubborn as an ass.

But they were still Ron's. He didn't like when Fred or George or Ginny would try to covet Harry's attention, or tease Hermione until all the blood rushed up to darken her cheeks to a deep blue. She would hide behind her massive hair that curled around her wildly in a way that she wasn't.

Later, Hermione would shyly admit that she'd never felt wanted, and that she quite liked the way Harry and Ron so openly expressed their need for her. Harry would say the same.

Ron Weasley liked watching people.

He saw everything he needed to from a distance, even if he wanted to get closer. He liked watching quidditch especially, how their bodies moved so gracefully and held no hesitation in their gestures. (This did not extend to his brothers and sister. He actually didn't like watching them in particular, even if he could never pry his eyes away from Harry twisting and turning and reaching as far as he could.)

Every quidditch match was exciting. Ron would emulate certain things, ever since he could remember. Bill's easy-going swagger. Charlie's big hand movements. Percy's chin tilt he did when he was trying to make a point, or the seamless weaving and bobbing Fred and George had mastered together. He'd mostly out grown it before Ginny came along, but sometimes he even ran his hand through his hair like she did. His dad did it, and it was a small thing the three of them shared, and Ron coveted it.

The most ingrained thing about Ron was probably his tactile nature. His mum was the same way. They were probably the most expressive, always ready to give out a hug and kiss on the cheek or just to hold someone.

This came in handy later in life.

Hermione likes to stand on her toes.

It's a small thing that he's sure she isn't really aware of. She'd mentioned offhandedly that her parents had forced her to do ballet when Ron mentioned it, and it became more and more clear. When she stretched she pointed her toes perfectly, and when she turned to speak she'd often spin around on the tips of her feet. It was endearing, especially even when she went on her long winded tangents about anything and everything.

When she talked, her smile lit up the room and her hands flitted about excitedly. When she saw something that caught her eye, Hermione would stretch out her neck and raise her eyebrows high into her uneven bangs.

Hermione was also very awkward. She hid behind her big kinky curls, which Ron soon learned were in that weird frizzy stage because of repeated failed attempts at straightening it. (He quite liked her hair just the way it was, but Hermione didn't, which was disappointing.) Ron would shake his head and teasingly pull on one of her coils so it bounced tightly. She would flush, and when they first met she absolutely despised it. It wasn't until they'd known each other for so long that she would allow him to do so. He was the only one other than Harry that was allowed. Soon after she began to grow comfortable with his casual touches.

So when she would awkwardly put her hand forward to shake Ron's, he would push it away in order to wrap her up tightly in his arms. She'd tense at first before hugging back tentatively, then tightly, as if she never wanted him to let her go.

Harry tugs at his sleeves when he gets nervous.

He does it a lot, actually. When they ride up, he pulls the cuffs down to grip in his palms.

When adults speak to him, he squeezes himself inward to make himself smaller. When they raise their voices, his head drops down ever so slightly, as if it's an instinct he's trying to fight. When they get too close, his body twitches away as if it has a mind of its own.

Ron soon noticed that Harry couldn't handle yelling. Ron and Hermione began to fight about Merlin-knows-what one night by the lake. It wasn't until Ron's voice was slightly hoarse and he paused to take a breath that he remembered that Harry was still there. He was sitting on the damp grass, completely still with his hands muffling his ears and his head tucked between his knees.

Ron always warns Harry before reaching to him. Always asks if its okay. It's soon obvious to Ron that no one has truly hugged Harry, and does so whenever he has the chance. And Harry absolutely clings onto Ron, which is really nice. No one's really done that. His siblings weren't always the touchy-type and his parents were always too busy with this or that to dedicate so much time to the Least Favorite.

(Ron knew that they loved him. He never doubted that. But he was nothing if not a realist.)

But Ron's favorite thing was when Harry would jump on him. Harry never talked much unless one prompted him endlessly, and it was even rarer for him to initiate a conversation or reach out for anyone or anything. So when Harry would get so excited he tackle-hugged Ron into the grass or the floor of the common room, and Hermione would burst into giggles beside them, he'd feel his heart burst open for these two people that truly appreciated him.

Watching people fall was pretty fascinating.

Their bodies would turn and prepare for the inevitable, bracing in fear before the impact came.

They showed something real, in those moments. The shock, the resignation, pure, unadulterated fear that overtook their entire bodies dominated Ron's attention when it happened. And when the fear happened, he saw who they were. How one handles the fear, the harsh reality ready to break their nose it, shows who they truly are.

When Hermione fell into the Devil's Snare, and Ron and Harry were stuck in the stage of fear, he could see Hermione's brain turn over. He saw the way she went straight from the fear to the calm determination of someone who was not ready for the end. He could see the clear fuck you on her face before she sunk below the vines.

When Harry's broom began to shake and throw him off in a violent rage, Ron saw the fear. He saw the clear fear outline every bone of his body before his grip tightened and his body swung upwards. He could see the resignation, and he could see the acceptance of what would happen. But that wasn't standing out as much as the look that overtook his entire face. He could hear it from the stands, the way he was telling himself - not without a fight.

Ron quite liked the fear. He liked seeing them panic and squirm. He liked knowing who they were, if only for a moment.

When he punched Goyle in the face, he saw it. When he beat him over and over in the empty corridor, Ron knew. He didn't have that fight in him, the way his best friends do. He was pitiful, really. Ron felt no sympathy afterwards, merely watched as the larger boy scrambled away bloody and terrified.

And later, when Ron let Harry bandage his knuckles in a way that no eleven year old should be able to do with such ease, he watched the blood swirl down the drain with morbid fascination.

His knuckles were swollen and bruised, and Harry was endlessly careful with them.

Goyle had gotten a good punch in, and Hermione's hand flitted around his cheek worriedly for a good two minutes before calming down.

And the next day, when Goyle's bruises were yellow with some kind of accelerated healing potion, Ron was quite disappointed that the colors had left so quickly. He felt put-out, robbed even, of the satisfaction he'd wanted. That he'd earned.

But when their eyes met, and Goyle flinched to look down with shameful fear, Ron decided that he could settle for that.

********************

Hermione Granger had always been a smart girl. It was something she had always prided herself in. Top of her class, always on time, always perfect.

Her parents had made sure of that. The Grangers would not permit their only child to fail. They refused to have a fuck up for a daughter. It would disgrace them beyond belief, leaving the family humiliated and shame-faced for all of the world to see.

Hermione Granger was used to the low expectations. She had long since grown accustomed to people looking down on her. From her buck teeth, to dark skin, to her frizzy hair, not many expected much from her.

They were proper people, the Grangers. Practical and no-nonsense types that expected their child to achieve a level of success that they were never able to reach.

So it was quite a shock when one day a severe-looking woman appeared on their doorstep in a tall pointy hat and bright green bathrobe that smelled faintly of cat treats.

Hermione had had an inkling about the magic. Strange occurrences, things that logic simply could not explain.

"It snowed once," she had murmured under her breath.

The three adults stopped their snapping, which had been quickly escalating into a fully-blown argument, to look towards the girl.

"What was that?" the professor had sniped quickly.

Hermione looked towards her parents, their lips pressed together tensely as they stared down their daughter through narrowed eyes.

"It snowed," Hermione'd said a bit more clearly. "When... when I read Narnia." She barely kept from flinching when her mother's fist clenched at the mention of one of those horrid fairy tales, but Hermione looked down and twisted her lips from side to side.

"Why is that?" the woman had asked a touch less harshly.

"In the story the kids went through a wardrobe and found a place where it snowed all year round. I just wanted to visit somewhere... somewhere different. Like..."

When Hermione made no effort to finish the professor made the effort to kneel before her to match their heights.

And slowly, the professor's lips began to pull up ever so slightly into an encouraging (and slightly conspiratorial) smile. "Somewhere magical?"

"Yes," Hermione had breathed out emphatically, nodding her head so vigorously that the beads in her weighty braids clanked together loudly enough to echo around the silent room.

"Well, I think that I may be able to make that happen."

To be entirely truthful, Hermione didn't much like school.

She loved learning. She had always loved learning. It was her favorite thing in the whole world. But the pressure, both from the school and her family, made Hermione want to tear her hair out until there was nothing left. Her parents were terrible about it. They monitored her grades as closely as humanly possible. And it was't enough to just do good, or great, or perfect. She had to be better than everyone in anything and everything she did.

Hermione had done ballet when she was little. It wan't her favorite thing in the world, but it had been fun.

But she wasn't The Best.

So her parents made her quit.

Harry and Ron were different than most.

They were her friends. Her real friends. Most people sneered at her in class when her hand always shot up and she jumped at the chance to answer every question she could and fight to be the first one to demonstrate how much better she was than them. (There had been a period of time where Hermione had stopped doing so. Her parents found out. She began raising her hand again.)

Her boys sometimes did that. When Hermione got overexcited and cut off the teacher Harry would sometimes hide his face with his hand or Ron would groan and roll his eyes. But the second someone else said something to her, they would jump at the chance to defend her and take no prisoners.

The three of them were family. A real family. Not like at home where dinner was tense and silent while Hermione's father picked apart every single sentence of her school progress reports, or when Harry would talk about his relatives in quivering whispers before quickly changing the subject before they could ask about his over-sized clothing and the gruesome pattern of raised skin on his arms.

Hermione laughed more with them in her first year at Hogwarts than she ever had in her entire existence. While Harry had a strange kind of gasping laugh that she could hardly distinguish between joy or pain, Ron's was full-bodied and bright. But they were both amazing. They sounded happy. Safe. Kind of like home.

She had never been so happy in her life.

Hermione loved magic.

It had a strange set of rules to it. Strange. Different. But soon enough, Hermione understood it.

Her favorite was potions. There was a definitive way to it, logic that was always followed. Hermione could follow a method and it would be perfect. Action and reaction. That was all it was. Action and reaction. Action and reaction.

(Snape was obviously terrible. He made her face burn and tears spring to her eyes. But she couldn't stop raising her hand or jumping in to answer questions. She just couldn't. If it got back to her parents it would be a thousand times worse than anything Snape could ever do to her.)

But outside of the classroom, Hermione fell in love with the method of potion-making. It was soothing and gentle and welcoming and just so perfect for her. Outside of the dankness of the dungeons and the harsh bearing of Severus Snape's beady black eyes, Hermione Granger sat in the sunlight of the second floor girls' lavatory and created masterpieces. She used her tools to create art. From potions of brilliant greens to velvety purples to bright blues so clear that she could see the bottom of the cauldron through. It was stunningly beautiful. And it took her breath away.

But she wasn't The Best.

(not yet, at least)

It was early on a Saturday morning.

The sun streamed through the tall window of the second floor girls' lavatory and landed on Hermione and her cauldron at the perfect angle. It was a potion recipe that Harry had found in the restricted section and given to her. (Normally, Hermione would never condone breaking rules. At school, no less. But this was a Special Circumstance.) It caused the consumer's heart to beat so fast that the blood couldn't make it through the arteries quickly enough, causing them them to clog and trigger a heart attack.

Hermione hadn't planned on actually giving it to anyone. It would be disgustingly terrible. To cause someone's death...

But then, the colors were so pretty. Swirling pinks and purples moving like waves crashing upon the sand, splashing against the sides of the cauldron of their own accord. Her eyes traced their movements, transfixed into a deep state of pure calm.

She didn't even notice when some of it had splashed up over the lip of the cauldron. It landed on the tiles with a decisive plink that echoed in the silence.

Hermione hadn't seen the rat until it was too late. She watched in horror as the small rodent moved towards the spilled potion, sniffing at it before licking hesitantly.

Before she could yell for it to stop, the rat began to convulse on the dirty floor. Hermione could do nothing but watch as the poor thing's body shook violently, squealing pathetically and rolling around in excruciating pain.

And then the blood.

There was so much in its tiny body. It was actually quite shocking. Spilling from everywhere from its eyes to its mouth to its ears. It was a horror scene - party of one.

Hermione wanted it to stop. She wanted to save the little rat. It was cruel and unkind and unfair and...

Disgustingly beautiful.

The vividness of its blood threw her off. It was smooth and thick, running through the grooves of the tiles in gentle rivulets akin to that of the rivers that carved through the Forest of Dean.

It was very different to see this kind of pain tearing its course through something. It felt almost satisfying to watch. Like she was seeing her own pain manifest itself within a tiny conductor, forcing everything inside of her inside of it.

And it was Hermione that was doing it. Hermione's potion. Her own knowledge and power transferring into another living breathing thing, wreaking its havoc as it went.

Action and reaction.

Sometimes Hermione would watch others in school with the same lens that she had watched that rat. She would bore holes through the side of Pansy Parkinson's head or clench her hands to avoid tilting the entirety of her scalding potion down the back of Professor Snape's robes during class.

(She would fantasize about it. Sometimes Hermione felt like a monster for doing so, but then she would look at Ron when he dug his fingertips into the desk and glare at Draco Malfoy with a barely concealed type of rage that she Knew meant that they were the same.)

(Harry was a little different. He didn't always have that kind of rage inside of him. But he would watch when Ron would fight others, untamed and wild in every aspect. And it would glimmer behind the vibrant green of his irises that Hermione had yet to recreate with one of her potions.)

Hermione wanted to do it. She wanted to drip just the littlest bit of her art onto their wrists. Just a drop. She wanted to watch their skin shrivel and burn, eaten away by the nature of her poison. She wanted to hear them scream. She wanted them to feel what she feels, if only for a bit. She wanted to paint with their blood, tracing sigils of old into her skin and practicing the kind of magic that would have her mother fainting on the front lawn and her father puking into the ugly orange tulips tracing the stark white walls of her pretty little muggle home.

But for now, she'd have to settle for the rats haunting the bathroom floor.

#Harry Potter #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #black hermione granger #INDIAN HARRY POTTER #dark au #dark golden trio #golden trio #not v happy #and ive brought you mur #thank you #mur-dur!#JUDAS

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blacknailpolishonguitarstrings · 4 years ago

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O Children

Minerva couldn’t sleep. Ever since the war had begun, she had become more and more restless in her sleep, increasingly worrying Poppy. Thus, she did not miss a single second of the sharp, rapid, loud knock on the door of their little cottage that sounded at 4 am on that cold November morning. Tightening the string of her checkered green plaid robe, she walked rapidly down the stairs, leaving the vapour of her cup of tea resting on the window sill to god up the window. The lower floor of the house was plunged deep in darkness, the only light coming from the porch lamp whose glow glittered through the door’s coloured glass panels. Gripping her wand tightly, she unlocked the door.

“Albus!” She gasped. “What type of ice cream did I get at Florean’s in Diagon Alleys on August 22nd, 1975?”

Her wand was pointed right at the centre of his chest omnipresent reminder of the war.

“Raspberry sprinkled with rose petals and lavender-infused chocolate topped with almond brittle,” said the old man tiredly.

He looked weary the twinkle in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles dim, long white hair and beard having lost their silvery shine, clothes dusty. It was almost as if more wrinkles had appeared on his face since the last time she had seen him, rendering his face even grimmer, a gloom look stretching across his features.

“What happened?” She asked tightly. “Who…who died?”

Her friend’s silence was unbearable, hanging heavy in the air, announcing in-pendent doom.

“I can’t remain long, I must go and take care of matters, but I assumed you would wish to be notified among the first…”

“Albus. Who. Died?” She repeated.

He sighed.

“Peter Pettigrew and…James and Lily Potter, all murdered by Sirius Black.”

An icy, unpleasant, terrifying wave of cold flooded her veins, disbelief painted on her face. It wasn’t possible.

“No,” she whispered. “There must have been an error. No. Sirius would never do such a thing to James and Lily. They were his best friends. You are wrong.”

The Headmaster watched her with compassion as she muttered “no” under her breath over and over again, refusing to acknowledge the hard and bitter truth. It felt as if the world was spinning at breakneck speed around her, dizzying her. Everything swam before her eyes, blurring and mixing, a kaleidoscopic slush of colours, and numerous seconds passed before Minerva realised that the thin watery veil clouding her gaze was burning hot, unspilt tears. Her grip on the door handle was so tight her knuckles had turned white.

“When? How?��Why?” She breathed raggedly.

“We don’t know exactly,” started Albus gently. “All we know is that Sirius Black was the Potter’s Secret Keeper, he allegedly betrayed them, which led us to believe he reconnected with his family and worked closely with Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew attempted to warn and save Lily and James, and in a fit of madness, Black blew up the street and killed Pettigrew along with thirteen muggles. He was found in a muggle neighbourhood nearby and has since then been arrested and sentenced to Azkaban for life. It was debated whether or not he should receive the Dementor’s kiss, but the judges decided upon a life sentence at Azkaban. I am still waiting for more information, and I will send you the full Order report as soon as it is ready. Members of the Order are of course working on the case along with the Ministry Aurors.”

She watched him tiredly, still refusing to believe him.

“Now, if you will excuse me, Minerva, I unfortunately still have urgent matters to attend to, I cannot remain any longer. I present you my sincerest condolences for your loss, I know that they were all very dear to you, and excellent students. I myself am still quite disbelieving at the situation.”

She looked at him stonily.

“No, you are not,” she thought, but she only asked:

“And Remus? And harry, James’ and Lily’s child?”

“Mr. Lupin hasn’t returned from his mission yet, as for young Harry…I’ve taken care of it

An uneasy feeling overcame her.

“Albus, what did you do?”

The elderly wizard failed to meet her eye.

“I have left him with his last living relatives, the Dursleys. Petunia Dursley was Lily Evans Potter’s sister—“

“I know that, “ snapped Minerva. “What I do not understand is why you thought this was a viable solution. I have met the Dursleys. They are close-minded, rude, and despicable people. They are not a good family or entourage for Harry to grow up in. Petunia Dursley could barely stomach her own sister, I shudder at the thought of how she will treat her nephew. Neither James nor Lily would have wanted this for their son, Albus, I can’t—“

“It does not matter, Minerva,” he cut her off. “While I appreciate your concerns, the matter is sealed and there is nothing to be done now. I have my reasons, and I hope you will trust me as you have done many times before. I wish you a pleasant evening, or well, rather morning I suppose.”

He turned around, his robes sweeping the floor as he walked away until he was nothing but a mere silhouette amongst the shadows, all semblants of warm, glowing light gone.

“Bastard,” seethed the witch after him, before slamming the door shut.

The shock of wood against wood resonated around her in the darkness. She did not know what to do now, what to say, what to think, what to feel. For the first time in years, Minerva was lost. She stood there, back pressed against the hard door, wand held tightly in her wrinkled hand, dark brown hair streaked with gray tumbling down her shoulders, and felt oddly empty, almost numb, as she looked curiously at the single ray of moonlight piercing through the back windows. The old stairs creaked in the far left corner of the living room, and a trembling golden glow filled the lower floor of the white brick cottage. Poppy appeared behind the sofa, gripping her wand whose tip was alight with a soft shine, wrapped in her midnight blue nightgown. She looked weary and pale in the dim light, almost ghost-like, her quivering lip betraying her inner turmoil. Minerva stared at her blankly, as she approached her.

“Minnie,” whispered her wife, kneeling in front of her, placing a soft hand on her wrinkled cheek.

“That’s what they used to call me, James and Sirius, Minnie, mum…they were the only ones who dared to,” she croaked.

“I know,” said Poppy softly, wrapping her arms around her frail shoulders, hugging her tightly. “They were wonderful children and—“

“He killed them,” interrupted Minerva hoarsely. “He killed them…”

She shivered, whether it was coldness or something else, much darker, buried inside of her, she did not know, but she began trembling violently.

“VOLDEMORT KILLED THEM!” She roared, eyes blazing, face red, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Minerva,” murmured Poppy, chocking on her name, as she held her crying wife in her arms, who shook violently, wracked by uncontrollable sobs.

“He killed them, he killed them, he killed them,” she muttered over and over again, face buried in the crook of Poppy’s neck.

Neither of them had any idea how long they stayed there, on the cold hard floor, leaving against the entrance door of their house. But, soon enough, the morning sun’s first golden rays began filtering through the windows. The sky was beautiful outside, a painted canvas of amber, orange and pink fading into a dark blue in one corner and a clear azure in the other. It was all awfully joyful and pretty, considered the grim circumstances. Exhausted, Poppy got up, and holding Minerva by the elbow, led her to the upholstered burgundy armchair overlooking the small fireplace where coals lay cold and dead amongst the ash. She settled weakly into it, covering herself with a large plaid blanket. She felt nothing, no pain, no sorrow, no joy, nothing. Her mind still hadn’t fully processed the loss, and the first shock of emotions having been evacuated by hours and hours of mourning the dead, she was now empty, hollow.

“Poppy,” she said quietly, taking the small green hand-painted ceramic mug her wife handed her, having come back from the kitchen. “Do you honestly believe, Sirius…”

She stopped, her voice cracking, a shy remnant of the power it used to be.

She took a deep breath in, before trying again.

“Do you think Sirius killed James, Lily, and Peter?” She asked in a small voice,

“Of course not, replied Poppy, taking a sip of her tea. “I don’t believe Sirius would be able to kill someone in the first place, let alone murder his best friends.”

Minerva nodded,

“I do not think so either, but…I don’t know, something is wrong…”

Silence settled in their home, as the birds chirped merrily outside, welcoming the new day with joy and excitement. Suddenly, a loud knock sounded at the kitchen window. Minerva stood up heavily, and leaving her empty teacup on the worktop, she opened it, letting the waiting owl in. Running her hand gently through its glossy tan plumage, she took the newspaper from its claws and slipped five Knuts into the small leather pouch tied at its leg. Big headlines printed in bold black letters glared back at her from the white paper, screaming victory:

“Dark Lord vanquished and gone, for good this time”

“Dark Lord dead: Wizarding Britain celebrates”

“Harry Potter, the young saviour of our world”

She skimmed briefly through the paragraphs, squinting at the fine print, shaking her head slowly.

“Fools,” she thought.

She opened the Daily Prophet to the second page and dropped it in shock when Sirius Black’s desperate face stared back at her from the black and white moving picture. An Auror was restraining him, holding him at wand point, as he desperately attempted to free himself from her iron grip. His face was a mask of pure anguish and misery, as tears ran down his face, his usually lustrous black hair sticking in mangy strands to his skin.

“I’m so sorry.”

He appeared to be mouthing the same three words over and over again.

Above the picture, the headline read:

“Sirius Orion Black: murderer, madman, and traitor”

Facing Poppy who was watching her worriedly, she whispered, voice breaking:

“I must find Remus, now.”

#angst #remus lupin #sirius black #james and lily #minerva mcgonagall #poppy pomfrey #minerva x poppy

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 4 years ago

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The Rumor Around Hogwarts (Ch.1)

Hope you enjoyed the addition to that chapter!! Unfortunately not all of my chapters will be that long. I hope you enjoy what I can crank out. Vote if you can and if there are any problems or concerns let me know

Previous // Next

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You were an ordinary kid.....

Up until a certain point.

You lived in a huge old house that was kind of dark and scary but in a captivating way. Your bedroom was spacious, the dining room could fit at least 20 people (more if magic was involved) and the kitchen was always bustling with either your mother or the house elf, sometimes both, making snacks or meals and somehow the most divine butterbeers.

There were very few rooms you weren't allowed to enter. Your mom's bedroom, the portrait room, and some random room with some initials on it. When you were younger you tried to ask about them but your mom set some very strict rules. The child you was too shocked by the complete change from her usual laid back nature and took her word as law. She was your mother, not a dictator and her job was to raise you, and she did. Not as a secondary house elf, and definitely not as her puppet. It wasn't until you were older and you asked again that you noticed the sad look in her eyes, the same look she got when you asked about your father.

Still your house was like a castle, for a five year old you, 7 year old you and even the 11 year old you waiting for your mother to come home and tell you about the surprise letter you'd received on your birthday. An owl showed up and dropped off a letter about a wizarding school named Hogwarts. You'd known you were a wizard for about 2 years now after an accident in muggle schooling involving mind reading and a serious conversation about legilimency. Of course that's why your mother had been shying away from you the closer it got to your birthday. She didn't want to accidentally spoil the Hogwarts news.

"N/N!!" your mother called from the front step "YOUR BFFL IS HOMEEEE!"

You were honestly glad you weren't in public otherwise you'd have to pretend to not know her or this 'n/n'

"Yeah I know, you said you were coming home at 8:00 so I didn't even get out of bed until 8:15." you replied from the den, trying not to appear too excited. Though it was true. Your mother was notoriously late so you'd always add 30 minutes to the time she said she'd arrive

"Rude! C'mon let's do this explanation quickly you know the basics about you being a wizard and i'm sure the letter explained some things" she hurried

"What's your rush? You avoided me and wouldn't look at me directly for at least a week"

"You noticed huh? Sorry about that, but I really want to go to the zoo, I just have a really good feeling about it!"

"Fine we can go to the zoo but you'll have to explain everything in the car. We're taking the muggle way so you have plenty of time to explain, IN DETAIL"

"Deal"

And that's how you met Harry Potter. Of course you didn't know he was the boy that lived. He was just the kid at the zoo with a wicked scar.

You walked into the reptile house having just had lunch and your mom encouraged you to try your hand at communicating with the reptiles through legilimency. The reptile house was very cool and dark with lights illuminating the room just enough to see. There was a very....large man tapping on the glass as he was being ordered to make the snake move by a rather large boy that was ... your age? Deciding to avoid whatever was going on over there you tried talking to a lizard

That is until you heard a hissing noise coming from the skinny kid with the glasses and wicked scar. You stared at him in awe, partially because he was communicating with a freaking boa constrictor, but also because you, like the responsive snake, had understood exactly what he was saying. Whether it was through legilimency or if you could actually speak the snake language, you didn't know, but a shout shook you out of your trance.

"DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY COME AND LOOK AT THiS SNAKE YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

The fat kid who you assumed was Dudley came and pushed the scar kid out of the way. You'd rushed over to help him up. Unexpectedly the glass that Dudley had been leaning against vanished. The snake slid its body onto the floor, sliding past you and harry and you both could hear a faint "Brazil here I come... thanksss amigosss."

"You can talk to snakes" you uttered

"Yeah, it's my first time"

“Don't worry I'll keep your secret" you winked and right after you'd introduced yourself you noticed your mom flagging your attention. I guess the snake commotion caught her attention and she'd want to go home before anything bad could happen. "Sorry I couldn't get your name. hope to see you soon!!" you called over your shoulder leaving him slightly confused but glad to meet someone at least a little friendly. Unlike the Dursleys.

He too hoped you'd meet soon.

#harry potter x y/n #harry potter x male reader #harry potter #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #nonbinary #non binary reader #x nonbinary reader #rumor

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

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“Everything Goes Wrong” || YEAR 3 – Ch.39 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 2/2/2021

Word count: 3,346

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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The tunnel was much larger than Heather remembered it being. Under her wand’s soft light, it seemed more open and less constricting. On her way through the first time, it felt like the walls could cave in at any moment, crushing them before the Grim or Sirius Black could get a chance. Now it felt like the tunnel was experiencing one long, full breath as wind came in through the Whomping Willow’s opening far ahead.

Heather breathed in just as deeply, opening up her lungs and filling them as much as possible like she was taking in her very first breath. It smelled damp and the dusty mud the others kicked up pricked at her lungs but the knowledge that everything was now under control was enough to soothe the stings.

Heather looked on ahead at the strange, tall man in front of her, still holding Snape up like a doll on strings by Snape’s own wand. By the way Snape’s head bumped on the rough ceiling of the cave, Sirius seemed more focused on the path ahead, eyes trained on glimmer of light just beyond. Sirius’ long curls caught on branching roots but he paid the constant tugging no mind. Did this feel like a second prison break for him? With Peter Pettigrew, he would become a freer man than when he broke out of Azkaban.

Heather winced at the fifth bump to Snape’s head. “I don’t think he’ll forget I blasted him against the wall with so many scrapes and bruises to his head,” she whispered.

Sirius turned to her. “He’ll have more to worry about when he wakes up than you and Harry’s attack on him.” He flicked his wrist down and the toes of Snape’s shoes began dragging along the floor, kicking up more dust but saving his forehead from future scrapes. “He won’t very pleased to see only Peter taken away in chains… and less so to see me freed and reunited with my old pal.”

There was more color to Sirius’ face now, making him look only a bit less grim and skeletal than minutes before.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Do you two know what all this means?”

“Yes. You’re free,” Harry declared from the back. “They won’t be sending you back to Azkaban ever again.”

“Yes…” Sirius kept looking onward but his free hand fidgeted at his side, pulling on the tattered holes of his grey-striped shirt. “Yes, but… Well… You know I’m – Your parents made me your Godfather… to the both of you – I don’t know if anyone ever mentioned it.”

“We overheard it,” Heather admitted. She looked back at Harry who was looking up at Sirius intently. The light of their wands reflected of his scratched glasses and although she couldn’t see his eyes, she could guess she’d find a spark of excitement in them.

“That would make me your appointed guardian,” Sirius continued more stiffly. “That was, if anything happened to them…”

Heather gripped her sweater, feeling her hands begin to shake.

“Of course you both have full say in where your home is – I wouldn’t wish to take you from your aunt and uncle… And… Well… See, once my name is cleared – should you ever want a different home – if you wanted…”

“Are you suggesting we live with you?” Harry stepped on Heather’s heal – she hadn’t realized she had slowed down her pace. “Leave the Dursleys?”

Sirius shook his head and coughed. “No – No, of course I thought you wouldn’t want to – ” he said quickly. “I understand, I just thought you two would want to know you have a choice should you – ”

“Are you insane?” Harry’s smile could be heard through his croaky voice. “Of course we want to leave the Dursleys! Right, Heather?”

“Oh,” Heather nodded. “Yeah.”

“Have you got a house? When can we move in? How many room’s it got? Oh – !”

Heather elbowed Harry in the ribs to push him off her. In his excitement he’d almost begun to climb over her to get to Sirius, as if his proximity would get him answers faster.

Sirius whirled around – Snape’s body instantly began drifting up again – and smiled ear to ear at them. Heather could see why his animagus was a dog. If he’d had a tail he’d be wagging it faster than bee’s wings.

“You really want to? The both of you?” Sirius beamed down at them. “Mean it? Really?

“Yeah, we mean it!” Harry shook Heather’s shoulder. “Heather?”

She nodded and smiled up at Sirius. “We mean it.” Harry beamed at her confirmation as brightly as Sirius and she felt wholly engulfed in their collective eagerness.

Heather pushed Harry’s hand off her shoulder. She looked up at Sirius’ gaunt face and tried to envision that she might one day find it familiar and friendly. He turned back around and at her reminder and lowered Snape’s body back down. Their conversation had only left his forehead a little scratched.

The grunting up ahead had brought the three of them back down to earth. They were only just getting Peter up out of the hole. It took Hermione a few minutes to direct Professor Lupin and Ron on how to maneuver themselves and a few longer to help Sirius get Snape out of the hole in one piece. Heather crawled out, heaving her body onto the grass, and extended her hand down for Harry to take. His hand squeezed hers and she pulled him up fast.

“Can you believe it?” he whispered to her as they stood and shook off dust.

Heather brushed off her shoulders and watched Sirius take in the grand castle up the sloping grounds. They were so far away it almost looked like it was on an entirely different mountain, resting on the edge of a small cliff above the glittering lake.

“Everything will be different now,” she whispered.

Harry squeezed her arm. “Different good.”

She nodded and looked down at the lake. There were lights dancing on its surface. She could almost count all the Hogwarts windows reflecting off the water. ‘Different good.’ …At least Hogwarts seemed to always remain the same.

“Let’s get going.” Professor Lupin called down to them, already moving up the hill. “And one wrong move Peter…”

“I’ll drop the snake and aim for your head,” Sirius threatened.

Hermione, Harry, and Heather brightened their wands and illuminated the path for the others as they walked on silently. The castle lights slowly grew larger and very curiously, less bright. Heather looked down at the lake, almost obscured by the growing forest, and caught sight of a large white moon reflecting clearer and clearer as they walked.

Through the light wind she heard a grunt and stopped, shining her light on the abrupt jam of their party. Sirius had bumped into Snape’s body, which had knocked into Ron who had bumped into Peter who was pressed up and quaking against a very still Professor Lupin.

Sirius looked down at the ground, at their growing shadows, as the moon bathed them in light. He froze and stuck out an arm, signaling them back to him.

Heather kept her eyes on Professor Lupin’s rigid body as his limbs began to tremble one by one. “It’s a full moon…”

Hermione gasped. “He didn’t take his potion! He’s not safe!”

“Run,” Sirius hissed. “Run! Now!”

Heather turned and stopped, whipping back around to Ron. “Ron…”

He was bent down awkwardly, desperately pulling at the chain around his ankle. Harry dashed forward to help him but Sirius pulled him back, dropping Snape.

“Go! Leave it to me! RUN!”

Heather hesitated with Harry and Hermione, still unsure if it was safe to leave Ron and run away. A sickening snarling noise broke the air. Heather’s eyes flickered over Professor Lupin, or what was left of him not yet morphed into a monstrous figure. His head lengthened out into a long snout with jagged teeth and a slobbering tongue. His shoulders hunched and jutted out inhumanly. Rough hair sprouted out along his face, hands, and neck. His shoes shredded in two and rolled down the hill, as if running from the enormous claws that had split them apart. With a single snap of his long jaws, the werewolf wrenched itself free of the shackles that held on to his wrist and ankle.

A large black streak dashed across Heather’s vision. The blur lunged for the werewolf’s neck and pulled it backwards, away from Peter and Ron. The giant bear-dog held its ground as the werewolf broke free and turned, growling deep. In an instant they were locked, jaw to jaw, claws tearing into shoulders and pulling fur by the clump.

Heather snapped her gaze away from the violent battle and looked around at Harry and Hermione. Both as transfixed as she had been. Ron had stopped pulling on his chains, instead pressing himself to the ground in an attempt to melt away among the grass, and Peter –

“NO!” Heather screamed.

Peter pulled Professor Lupin’s wand up from where it had dropped and aimed its tip at his head.

Harry rushed forward. “Expelliarmus!”

The wand in Peter’s hands flew out into the shrubbery behind. Heather’s breath caught and the scenery almost melted away. The sudden snaps of powerful jaws quieted, the grass seized to sway, and the moonlight brightened around Peter. For a second it felt like Harry had done it. Harry had prevented a horrible disaster.

But Peter grinned at them and Heather’s heart sank. In a blink of an eye, the little man shrunk and transfigured into a large rat with patchy fur and bent whiskers.

Crookshanks – who had taken refuge behind a rock at first sign or Professor Lupin’s condition – now jumped out from the shadows and chased after the bald tail poking out from the shifting grass as Scabbers scurried downhill and away.

Heather clutched her throat and tried to breath in. ‘The Servant Will Break Free And Set Out To Rejoin His Master. The Dark Lord Will Rise Again With His Servant’s Aid, Greater And More Terrible Than Ever Before,’ Trelawney’s raspy voice echoed in her mind over and over in overlapping waves. The prophecy will come true! “No, no, no.”

“He’s gotten away! Sirius needs him!” Harry turned back to the beastly fight happening feet away.

A shrieking wolf howl ripped through the air and before they could dive for the ground next to Ron, the werewolf leapt over them and ran into the forest at full force. The giant dog limped after the wolf, staggering off his intended path more and more with each pained step, padding out of sight.

Hermione dashed for Ron who was still on the ground, arms covering his head protectively.

“Is it gone? Please tell me it’s all miraculously over.” He looked up at Hermione who could only look on to Heather and Harry to answer the question.

Snape was still crumpled on the ground, Sirius was gone, Professor Lupin was gone, and Peter Pettigrew was gone.

“We – We need to get to the castle. We take Ron to Madam Pomfrey and tell Professor Dumbledore Snape’s out here and – ”

“And that Sirius is innocent?” Harry interrupted her. “We have no proof. None at all. And if those dementors find him…” he trailed off.

Heather gulped. He was only a few steps away from her. She took a step towards him and he backed away, already pulling his hand farther out of her reach.

“Harry…” Heather warned.

A wounded whine carried softly through the wind and Harry was off, running down the moonlit grounds into the shadowed forest near the lake’s edge.

She took a step, intending to speed off after to him when she saw Hermione point out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Snape reaching for the back of his head with a weak hand, but that wasn’t what Hermione was pointing at.

“Dementors!” Hermione took out her wand but did not know which shadowy figure to aim for.

It looked like dozens of unnatural clouds of blackness were blowing in against the wind. The whispy shadows floated in groups across the sky in the same direction as Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Harry, cutting the moonlight beams like nightmare-ish blades as they went.

Heather shivered and fell to her knees, wincing as a cold wave washed over her. Guilt prickled her chest and traveled through her arms, numbing her. She’d let Peter get away. If she had told Harry they could have taken higher precautions. She should have used Expelliarmus on Snape. He could have been restrained and listened to it all. So many things could have prevented Harry from leaving her, running off and facing a werewolf and dementors alone… Heather shook her head, refusing to let her brain dig into her fears. “Think happy… Happy thoughts…” There wasn’t anything happy she could grasp onto. Not a single cheerful event, joyous occasion, or delightful day came to mind. It was all so horrible, painful, and lonely… and cold.

Slowly the image of a large castle pushed through fog, with torches glowing in every window and flames undisturbed by the sweeping wind. A vast lake that reflected every window only disturbed by the ripples from the giant tentacles greeting dozens of small boats. The rush of excitement upon first seeing Hogwarts filled her blood and she sucked in a fresh breath of chilly air.

She looked up and saw the last of the cloaked figures duck below the tree lines. Hermione lay next to Ron and they both looked deeply asleep. Snape got to his feet quickly and looked her way, giving her a cold glare, and turned his attentions to Hermione and Ron.

Heather breathed in again and stood, wiping her grassy hands on her skirt and looked towards the edge of the forest. Harry was in trouble. She hugged and arm around herself and held in a sob, pulling her wand out.

“Don’t even think about it.” Snape growled.

“But Harry – ”

“Take them back to the castle!” Snape pushed her back and ran down the hill. His cloak billowed in the wind making him look like a dementor flying low across the grounds.

“But how am I to – ” Heather cut herself off and gaped at the two stretchers floating at chest-height.

Hermione and Ron each lay on one and when she pushed Hermione’s, Ron’s moved in parallel. She turned back in search of Snape but the wind was already stitching the clouds back together to cover the moon. She had to trust Snape would save him… Professor Snape. If she was trusting him with Harry’s life… and he was risking his own life to save him… he at least deserved that bit of respect from her again.

She turned to her friends and pushed the stretchers up the darkening lawn until she reached the entrance steps. She hesitated with the first step, not sure if she kept pushing it would only ram the stretchers straight into the fifth step, but after a hesitant push she realized the stretchers knew what to do and raised themselves accordingly.

She pushed on the doors and found they opened with easy, left unlocked by Professor Snape from when he rushed out after Professor Lupin.

“Out of bed! Students out of bed!” Mr. Filch screeched from down the entrance hall, waving a finger as he jogged down.

Heather sprinted to the entrance hall stairs yelling back, “Don’t lock the door! There’s more coming!” Shocking Mr. Filch to a halt.

She took the stretchers up to the hospital wing and pounded on the door, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry up and take Hermione and Ron so she could run back down to help Professor Snape with Harry… If he’d saved him… She shook her head. “Of course he did.”

“Five more minutes…” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione!” Heather stopped her pounding and shook her awake.

“Miss Potter!”

Heather jumped as Madam Pomfrey flung the door open and scolded her.

“It’s nearly midnight and – Oh my! Bring them in – bring them in.”

Hermione rolled off her stretcher and looked around as Heather took Ron’s stretcher to the farthest bed.

“What happened?” Hermione still looked weary-eyed.

“My question precisely.” Madam Pomfrey’s accusing eyes bore into her, having more than enough reasons to believe it was one of their faults.

“I remember dementors.” Hermione lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh and I suppose Ron’s leg is also broken from a bite wound.” She rubbed her eyes and stumbled as they followed Ron’s stretcher to a bed.

Madam Pomfrey only rolled her eyes and got to work on Ron. “There’s chocolate in the cupboard if you need it,” she said over her shoulder.

Heather motioned Hermione to sit and opened the cupboard. She scanned shelf after shelf until she spotted brown little chips filled to brim in a lidded jar. She took a handful and walked back to Hermione, pouring them into her hand. She jerked her head and motioned for the chairs against the opposite wall under the large windows. Hermione followed.

“Where’s Harry? He left and… and I don’t remember much after that.”

Heather nodded grimly. “Professor Snape went after him… Hermione I need to tell you – I don’t know why I didn’t before – I should have told you guys but so much happened suddenly and I wasn’t sure how seriously to take it and – ”

Hermione gripped Heather’s shoulder, calming her. “What is it? Just tell me.”

Heather calmed herself with a slow breath out. “I thought it was Sirius Black going back to Voldemort tonight. But it’s really Peter Pettigrew that’s going back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Professor Trelawney – when we were getting the cloak – I bumped into her and she – ” Heather shook her head as Hermione’s eyebrow shot up. “No, I know. Professor Lupin also thought – ”

“Harry finished him, twice if you count his journal. He’s dead three times over. You heard Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black and Professor Lupin in the shack. Peter Pettigrew is a coward. He probably ran off to hid in the forbidden forest and Professor Dumbledore will do something about him if he needs to when we explain it all to him.”

“I suppose… I mean there isn’t anything to do now other than tell Professor Dumbledore everything so he can free Sirius and hopefully forgive Professor Lupin.” Heather knelt on the chair and stared out at the darkness below. The moon was well hidden now and nothing could be seen.

Heather and Hermione both jumped when the doors to the hospital wing flew open and Professor Snape sauntered in with an unconscious Harry floating on a stretcher. Heather ducked quickly behind a bed, not wanting to remind him of her existence. If there was a chance he’d forgotten she’d attacked him only a couple hours ago, then she’d gladly hide from him for the rest of the year until the start of next term. Hopefully summer holidays for adults and school events did the same as for students and learned topics.

“Take Mr. Potter here. He’ll need all the chocolate you have.” Professor Snape pushed the stretcher into Madam Pomfrey’s hands and turned on his heel, ready to leave.

“The dementors – why have they attacked the students? They’re not in the castle are they? Surely the Headmaster – ”

“I’m sure Miss Granger can explain to you enough so that you may imagine what has happened tonight. I, however, must speak to the Headmaster and the Minister before he departs.” Professor Snape’s eyes flashed with eager excitement as he walked out the doors, closing them shut with an echoing thump.

Heather wondered if it was only Harry that he found. She hoped it was, and that Sirius had somehow escaped to his hiding place once more. ‘We won’t need to go that far… All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be so pleased.’ Professor Snape’s words rang in her head turning his silky tone into a cruel grain.

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fan fiction

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elysian-drops · 3 years ago

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I always deeply appreciated how you do introspection on your characters. As the precedent ask said how you made Draco three dimensional for exemple. Even the last chapter felt like a deep dive in Remus character and personality. You also approach Tom Riddle/Voldemort extremely well which is how I would have liked his character in canon to be, more political smart, more charming, two faced instead of the monologue villain. The chapter about Remus was also very in touch with who he is.

I dislike comparing artists works but have you ever read Charred Paws and Heavy Coils by UndeadArtist ? Because I feel like many of your characters are just as multi dimensional, human and realistic as hers. It’s a very refreshing take compared to taking an usually very canonical approach and try to make it as similar to the books as possible which fall flat because it doesn’t allow room for exploration and simply trying to imitate an author usually doesn’t bring more.

Also I don’t want to make this ask any longer than it already is (!) but I loved your head canons and have you got more under your sleeve?

Hi there!

Thank you so much for the kind words and feedback 🥺💕 I really enjoy doing deep-dives into characters, especially when they are so wonderfully twisted + complex like Tom, and it's always lovely to hear you enjoy reading them as well! I completely agree with you on the canon aspect— he was rather flat as a villain, wasn't he? 😅 But, then again, I suppose Rowling was writing for a younger audience and having a multi-dimensional villain is a big 'no-no' for the genre (didn't stop us anyway from adoring him though, did it? 😂😂).

I'm also thrilled to hear you thought the last chapter was very in touch with Remus!! Truth be told, that entire POV was one I decided on a whim 😅 I always thought Remus was an interesting character but he is so contradictory with himself. I mean, the man is stuck in a constant feedback loop of self-deprecation and self-loathing and so I was worried I was going overboard with his thoughts/inner-dialogue 😅 But, nonetheless, it’s wonderful to hear you enjoyed it 💕

In terms of your rec, I haven’t read it! I try to avoid reading other fanfics while writing mainly for two reasons: one, I don’t want to accidentally confuse their material and mine, and two, I feel I can’t devote myself fully as a reader while I’m also writing. However, I’ll definitely add her to the list if she’s getting that high of praise! I’m in agreement in that I like seeing new takes on characters rather than copying-pasting them from the canon material!

In terms of head canons, oh boy, do I ever 😂 I’ll post them under the cut because there are a few lol.

Tom:

Tom was a magpie child— he collected everything and anything he found of “value”. This included things from the other children at Wool’s (sweets he’d never dare eat, stuffed animals, socks without holes, etc) but also other more mundane objects people might have left behind on the streets— the odd button or two, polished rocks and shells from their beach outings, pretty shards of glass, marbles, newspaper articles he found of note, etc. In truth, his treasure trove cupboard was a mess.

Despite hating going to church, he quickly fell in love with how Latin sounded, particularly when sung— I believe this is why he didn’t protest too much being a choir boy.

Without a doubt too, he had a brief stint with Karl Marx and got in trouble with Mrs. Cole for espousing communism and trying to recruit (*cough* threaten *cough) the other children into joining him.

For a moment, before deciding on the path of being a professor and then a Dark Lord, he considered becoming a healer— he always had a fascination with the human body and its limits. Also, I just enjoy the idea that he came to Hogwarts bright-eyed and with more or less “honourable” ambitions (ie, medicine and teaching) and then having those ambitions become perverted and twisted a little more each time the Wizarding world failed him.

He chose the Ouroboros for his crest as kind of a little nod to his situation. The Ouroboros represents the cycle of destruction and rebirth— eternity— and shows that from destruction, one can experience rebirth (much like his form was destroyed but he was rebuilt from the person responsible for it). However, there’s also an underlying meaning. When the snake consumes its own tail (aka a piece of itself), it feels a sense of wholeness/completeness— much like how reabsorbing some of the horcruxes made him appear outwardly more “whole” (human).

Harri:

Harri absolutely loves the snow. Growing up, she never really experienced it (the Dursleys never bought her proper winter clothes so she wasn’t allowed outside often) but, when she got to Hogwarts, she spent almost everyday outside in it.

I really don’t think she thought too much about what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, truth be told. Her career paths kept changing on what she wanted to do, from Quidditch to teaching to becoming an Auror, and she really only clung to the Auror idea after so many people kept suggesting/pushing it.

She used to talk to snakes all the time in her aunt’s garden without ever realizing it was abnormal— that is, until she was finally caught in the act. After being locked inside for nearly a week and earning a few welts, she was terrified to talk to them again.

Much like Tom, she was also a “magpie” child. However, the biggest difference between them is that, while Tom collected things to “have” and to feel superior with, she collected things for sentimental value. Hedwig’s feathers, the first snitch she caught, her Hogwarts letter— mostly, they were things that reminded her that the Wizarding world was real whenever she was forced to return to the Dursleys.

Her handwriting is absolutely atrocious. She often has too many thoughts at once so everything comes out as chicken scratch— mostly because she’s rushing to get them down before they disappear.

She likes to use her wand to keep her hair up— much to everyone’s (especially Snape’s and Tom’s) horror.

Miscellaneous:

Bellatrix, without a doubt in my mind, is bisexual. Something about her just screams she’ll go either way and won’t even think twice about it 😂

Narcissa was the only one in her family not to be named after a constellation. In my head canon, her mother (Druella) always felt like an outsider among the Blacks (I also imagine her being blonde rather than dark-haired) and was more than delighted when she gave birth to little fair-haired, fair-eyed Narcissa. It was often a point of conflict in Narcissa’s identity growing up where she felt she never quite fit in because of this— and it didn’t help either her mother liked to say she was more “Rosier” than “Black”. Hence is why Narcissa was so insistent on naming Draco after a constellation, despite Lucius wanting otherwise.

Narcissa’s downtime hobby is floral arranging. One of her never-could-have-been dreams in life was to own a flower shop— however, she settles for making all of the bouquet arrangements in the manor.

Draco really, really can’t hold his alcohol— he’s such an incredible lightweight and everyone teases him for it.

Both Barty and Bellatrix were personally trained by Tom— hence is why he entrusts them with top-priority missions and views them as his seconds-in-command. However, who would win between them is a good question 👀 ((low-key would love to see Barty and Bella duel it out).

#answered #anon ask #anon submission #queue

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itsblissfuloblivion · 5 years ago

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Torch - Chapter 11: July

you asked for it, we give it to you, don’t be mad...

Ao3//FFnet

Harry thought he’d been through quite a series of unfortunate events throughout his relatively short life, some that’ve left him feeling embarrassed and in need to crawl into a hole and possibly die, and others that have left him a heartbeat away from turning rogue and going after Voldemort guns ablazing. But this, Harry comes to accept, is the worst so far.

Not only did six other people suddenly become acquainted with his most...intimate parts, but two of them happened to be Fred and George. Judging by the grins they’re both sporting, Harry’s in for a hellish summer - or however long he’d be spending at the Burrow before jumping recklessly into what probably will be his death.

Later, when the firewhiskey’s numbed his heart, when he’s too tired and tipsy to scream at everyone and claw at himself to grip the pain and throw it out, Harry lets the images of Hedwig and Mad-Eye wash over him like muddy waters clashing against the shore. The two first soldiers of the war - and Harry wonders how many more there’ll be until a skinny, averagely skilled, not-special almost seventeen year old serves justice and catches the bad guy for good.

A bitter laugh rolls down his throat and Harry shakes his head in self-loath, marveling at how impossibly stupid everyone has to be to put all their trust in him.

Harry starts as he feels a small hand on his shoulder - Ginny’s. As she’d done earlier, instead of saying something or asking him what’s wrong, Ginny takes his hand as she sits down next to him on the front steps. And, like earlier, her touch has a calming effect on him, steering his thoughts away from self-destruction and towards the blissful, golden days they’ve spent together.

But most of all he remembers her as she’d been on their last shared moment, her sad eyes and her bare chest, giving herself entirely to him. And just like then, his heart battles his mind, takes it to a savage war where what he wants to do and what he must do almost blend in, blurred around the edges.

He remembers her standing before him, waiting for him to touch, to feel, to melt into her and he remembers that he couldn’t do it then. He can’t do it now either.

It’s as if Ginny reads his mind because she squeezes his hand tighter and, looking bravely into his eyes as her bottom lip quivers, she says, “You know, I’d really wanted...that to happen then.”

Harry’s breath catches and he nearly crashes his lips to hers, nearly loves her right there, on her parents’ front porch. But instead he mumbles, his voice too shallow to meet the unwavering courage etched in hers, “Ginny, I - ah. Please know that putting an end to this,” he gestures between the two of them, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows, “is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“An end?” Ginny lifts her brow, her brown eyes blazing.

“Yes. It’s how it has to be,” Harry retorts, his voice a little higher and he immediately hates himself for it.

“Why?”

“Because it must. Because you’re not safe if you’re with me. Because I couldn’t live knowing that they’ve hurt you because of me.”

Although he’s careful to keep his voice low, the words erupt like barks from his mouth, clipped and loaded with ill concealed anger. And when she starts protesting that she doesn’t care for her life, that she can take care of herself, Harry loses his mind for a moment and his vision darkens suddenly, he’s out of breath.

He’s astonished to discover that he’d gripped her shoulders sharply and had probably shaken her, the anger boiling in his chest taking over his actions. Ginny stares back at him for a moment, pained and shocked, then smashes her mouth onto his with such force it hurts them both. Harry’s arms immediately let go of her, falling limply at his sides.

She ends the kiss just as quickly and shoots him a look that Harry can’t entirely describe - a little wounded, a little cross, and most of all a steel resolve that sends him into a panicked frenzy because he doesn’t know if she’ll run after him, or fight her own battle or, the most terrifying of them all...if she’ll just forget him.

Ginny smacks the door behind her before he can get a chance to apologise for being a crass prick or ask her what she’d just decided. Sighing deeply, Harry admits he really does deserve the door smacking. Why did he ever think that this, whatever this was, could’ve possibly been better than admitting that he loves her, so much that he feels a big part of him is missing when she’s not there, so much that his heart is broken beyond repair.

Because he’s a stupid prat with a hero complex, that’s why.

“What’s with the face, Medium Sized?” Fred grins at him when Harry finally drags his feet back inside.

Harry simply flips him and starts climbing the stairs all the way to Ron’s room. He’s fairly certain there’ll be enough other occasions for Fred and George to take the mickey out of him on accounts of his physique, but today he’s just not up to it.

An unsettling thought crosses his mind before he drifts to what he has no doubt would be an unrestful sleep: being split into seven, even if by means of Polyjuice, appears to him not so different than what Voldermort’s attempted to do. It’s truly a thought that weighs tangibly on the self-hate load for many reasons, but most of all it’s the fact that Harry keeps finding similarities between him and Riddle every time he stops to think about it. And that makes him retch right there, near the camp bed he’d been sleeping on summer after summer since someone had seen enough good in him to have him rescued from the Dursleys - and, quite truthfully, from himself.

Somehow there’s not much opportunity for wallowing when he wakes up as Mrs Weasley seems to have devised the cleaning schedule from hell to keep them occupied and leave no room for mysterious plots to be cooked up between Ron, Hermione and himself. And honestly? Harry’s a little grateful for that.

The blazing sun overhead casts an orange glow behind Harry’s eyelids at the end of the day, warms the metal rims of his glasses where they press against his flushed cheeks. For a minute, while Ron and Ginny’s mingled laughter still colors the air and Harry’s breaths are still calming, it’s almost like he’s got a normal life again. Like the world isn’t silently waiting for him to take out a maniac they haven’t managed in two decades.

And for a minute, maybe more, Harry thinks he can let himself have it and forget about yesterday, forget about all the bad days he’d ever had. He’s already given up so much, is preparing to give up more when he heads out alone to finish what Dumbledore started, he lets himself be selfish. Only a little longer.

“Alright over there, old man?” Ginny’s voice calls out.

Harry cracks one eye open and finds Ginny smirking at him, hair wild around her face, braid half undone. “I’m just a year older.”

“A year is a long time,” Ginny shrugs and winks, “Grandpa.”

“Whatever happened to respecting your elders, then?”

Hermione returns from the house with lemonade in hand and a smile on her lips, “Are we back to this again?”

“Yes. Harry is an old man and I proved it by totally kicking his bum three games in a row.”

Harry pushes up onto his elbows and blinks slowly. “First, you’re a trained Chaser and I’m not. Second, Hermione was my Keeper. And we all know what that means.”

“Don’t be mean,” Ron puts in as he gulps at his lemonade, stray droplets falling over his cheeks. Hermione gives him an approving nod and that probably genetic Weasley smirk slides across Ron’s face, “Hermione can’t help being allergic to the Quaffle.”

“Oh bugger off, Ronald,” Hermione grunts, kicking Ron’s thigh as she claims a place in the grass.

Comfortable quiet falls over them, the trees in the grove swaying with the wind as it carries the scent of wildflowers over the yard. With the sweet tang of lemonade on his tongue, Harry truly feels a sense of relaxation, of contentment that people tend to associate with summer. It’s borrowed time he can't bring himself to give up.

As if Ginny can read his mind, as if she knows his overthinking, overworked mind is settling on its usual dark track, she nudges his side with the toe of her trainer. “So all I’ve heard so far is a lot of excuses, and I’m nothing if not an excuse eliminator.”

“That’s one thing to call it,” Ron snorts.

“Anyway,” Ginny says with a roll of her eyes, “How about we have a go with the Snitch. Although we’ve seen I’m no slouch as a Seeker either.”

Her eyes catch his and he knows they’re both thrown back to that day, the sunlit weeks that followed, the stolen time. And her smile is a little dimmed when she stands and offers him a hand up, “Let’s put you to the test, eh?”

It’s like she wants him to know she’s momentarily forgot about the day before too, about his words and about her pleas.

So Harry accepts the hand up and ignores Hermione’s pointed stare and mumbles about ‘idiots with self destructive tendencies.’ He has a sudden death challenge to win after all.

The Snitch is for practice, and probably older than any of the foursome, but it does the job. It’s a bit sluggish taking turns, so there’s an advantage to catching it there, but the old thing has no trouble darting off and hiding before Hermione’s finished her last eye roll aimed at Harry.

Ginny doesn’t need to take her eyes off the horizon for the trash talk to begin, mostly the usual shots at his age and eyesight. Ron likes a good gangly something thrown in there, but Ginny’s never been one for poking fun at Harry’s physique. In fact, she seemed to like it well enough - before Harry’s life kicked in with its usual ‘pull the rug out’ disappointing development.

They circle in the air for who knows how long and Harry gives as good as he gets, asking things like whether Ginny can find balls smaller than six inches wide. But when he mentions ‘balls’ Ginny gives him a dangerous look he knows means something scandalous is about to leave her lips - until they light in victory.

He twists quickly and finds the Snitch bobbing in the air, as if it’s about to flit over for a visit with Luna and her dirigible plums.

Though Ginny spotted the Snitch first, Harry’s definitely a few paces closer and he’s fast on the uptake so they’re basically neck in neck, screaming toward the little ball.

Ginny nudges his shoulder a bit with hers, no cobbing, but her set jaw and cheeky grin are just as dangerous. Harry’s so caught up he can barely hear Ron and Hermione’s shouts from below - who they’re rooting for is undetermined - all he knows is the push of the air against his ears, the pounding blood in his veins, and Ginny flying at his side like a comet.

At the last second, she lowers herself just a bit closer to the broom and slips past him so her fist closes around the Snitch. So last second in fact, that his hand closes on top of hers. He can’t seem to release his grip and Ginny doesn’t pull away, even as the wings flutter against their palms. “Gotcha, Potter. No flashy mouth tricks - just quality play.”

Her whiskey eyes find his and if he thought his heart pounded uncontrollably before, now it may as well be beating out of his chest. His thumb brushes over top of hers and it feels like all his insides are in his throat as he murmurs, “Nice catch.”

“I don’t know another kind.”

Somehow, his grip slides to her wrist and she’s released the Snitch to feebly fly over the swaying grasses. Then her hand is around his forearm and they’re breaths apart. “Ginny - ”

Whatever he was going to say, it’s now lost to the summer air as Ron’s voice sounds from below, beckoning them inside.

They spend the little time left of July planning and preparing for the moment they’ll have to leave everything behind, which, to Harry, is in a way exactly what he needs simply because it doesn’t offer much room to interact with Ginny. It’s odd how seeing her now makes his heart leap with happiness and then immediately twist with sadness and guilt.

Even though it’s hard not to catch her eye at dinner, especially when the table’s too packed with people, close members from the Order, and no one can notice. Or when little Gabrielle Delacour arrives with her parents and turns her Veela charm on Harry; the small display of jealousy from Ginny revives the old monster nestled in his chest, gives Harry an extra spring in his step for the rest of the day. She cares enough to show the rest of the world he’s off limits. Only Ron’s withering look wipes the stupid grin plastered on his face.

“Should I be fighting off smitten women having a go at you or is this a girlfriend only task?”

Harry stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder. He sees Ginny, her hair messily twisted in a bun at the top of her head, leaning against the doorframe of her room and staring after him intently. He also notices the puffiness around her eyes that makes the dark rings under them more evident. His insides churn painfully.

“I don’t think women have ever been smitten when it comes to me. I rather tend to attract the usual love potion spiked chocolates kind of people,” Harry shrugs as he fully turns around to face her, one hand gripping at the railing. He feels as though he needs to tether himself to something or else he might just run to her and take her in his arms and kiss her tired eyes till she’s sound asleep and safely pressed against his chest.

Ginny lets out a dejected chuckle, “Clearly you’re not at all familiar with Hogwarts bathroom talk.”

“Oh?”

“But it’s somehow so typical of you to be oblivious of your charms,” Ginny shrugs and Harry forgets himself enough to let a smile stretch onto his face.

“My charms?”

“I believe tall, dark and handsome were uttered here and there,” she smiles a bit as her eyes lock with his and instantly a series of intimate moments they’ve shared passes before his eyes. “But they’re all wrong.”

“They are?” Harry parrots stupidly, heat spreading all over his chest, his face, to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah,” Ginny nods and covers one arm with the palm of her other, brushes it from her shoulder to her elbow as her lips slightly quiver. “It’s actually your eyes. Good night, Harry.”

And just like that she twirls on her heels and closes the door right after her. Harry can hear the springs of the mattress lamenting faintly and tries with all his might not to imagine her crushed on her bed, crying.

He doesn’t even realise it’s his birthday until the sun shakes him out of the poor sleep he’d managed to get once his mind got too tired of playing thousands of different versions of how he might die, how we might bring sorrow and death upon others, all peppered with instances of Ginny crying.

Huh, at least now he can do magic without being traced. Cheers to surviving this long and successfully eliminating the option of rotting in Azkaban every time he feels like actually being a wizard.

Harry gets to enjoy a bit of lightheartedness and bask in other people’s relationship problems when Ron gifts him a book essentially on how to pick up women and not long after Hermione publicly announces she’s about to pack Ron’s pants as soon as they get out of the washer. Unfortunately, he can’t share neither of those moments with Ginny as she’s not there…

Soon enough he locates her when she calls him to her room and Harry steps inside aware of his faint trembling. He comments on the view from her windows and she ignores him, like she should. Who’s invited into their former girlfriend’s bedroom and steers the conversation towards scenery?

A bloody idiot, that’s who.

She mentions Veelas again and his head starts spinning as Ginny looks at him with that blazing look on her face and it’s then when he knows it’s simply become impossible for him to step back. Harry kisses her as fiercely as she’s kissing him, ready to go where he’d previously forbidden himself to go with her, no longer able to control his mind, his body, its reactions to her. Harry’s ready to give himself away completely.

But before the thought of locking the door can cross his mind, before he can take this any further, the door bangs open and they break apart. Lust turns to anger and anger turns to guilt in Harry’s mind as he promises Ron he’s done, he’ll stay away, he’ll will himself to stop. He can’t keep doing this to her, he must never do it again.

An image of Ginny happily in love with another man invades his mind for the rest of the day, obsessing him, torturing him, the faceless man telling him nonchalantly that ‘you’ve lost her, mate’ as the two of them kiss deeply and turn their backs to Harry. They’d never could’ve had a future anyway...

#itsblissfuloblivion #itsblissfulbolivion writes #itsblissfuloblivion writes torch #harry potter #Harry Potter x ginny weasley #ginny weasley #Hermione granger #ron weasley #torch July chapter #canon compliant #hbp missing moments #hurts so good eh?#fightfortherightsofhouseelves #gryffindormischief

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katsitting · 4 years ago

Note

I would like to submit the word prompt 'Cage', please?

AN: So this is another one that grew a little out of control. It’s a little more emotional than I expected. I hope you enjoy, nonnie!

Ship: Tomarry

Rating: T

Tags: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Modern, Disturbing Themes, Prison, References to Murder, Unhealthy Relationships

You can read it on AO3 here.

___________________________________________________

“You’ve got an hour.”

Any response Harry could have made died in his throat when the guard opened the rusted, metal door.

The room could have been mistaken for a cupboard.

It was small, cramped, and unfurnished. There were no paintings, no desks. There wasn’t even a place for him to put his bag. All it had was a chair, a single bloody chair in the centre of the room facing a wall-sized square made of glass.

Harry tried not to make a face, already regretting coming here in the first place.

He knew it would be bad.

Prison wasn’t a pleasant place in England; it wasn’t difficult to imagine that America would be the same.

It was the first thing he’d considered when he’d made his choice to come to America, in the first place. It hadn’t been easy, convincing himself that it was the right choice, that it was the only way he could finally move forward from what happened, and yet—

Harry knew what he was getting himself into. This small, sterile place shouldn’t have come as such an unpleasant shock.

And yet—

It had.

Somewhere, deep down, Harry had had the faint hoped that it wouldn’t be that horrible, that he wouldn’t have to think about the fact that he was seeing his ex-best friend in prison and not over drinks at their local pub.

It was stupid, absolutely bonkers, but that hadn’t stopped him from hoping, hadn’t stopped his stomach from clenching tight with pain when he stepped inside.

This room that looked too much like that cupboard under the stairs, like that hellhole back in the Dursley’s home that he hadn’t thought about since he’d left.

And now Tom was living in one, had to live in one until the bloody rest of his life. He didn’t wish that on anyone, even when—

“He’ll be here in five minutes.”

Harry blinked, thoughts scattering at the low click of the door closing shut behind him. The guards had left him alone.

Five minutes.

Harry’s chest tightened at the same time his heart began to race.

Five minutes, and I will see him.

Harry sat down on the chair, unsure of what to expect, of what he could even say. He hadn’t talked to Tom in years, not since the news broke out.

Gods, how did anyone visit their loved ones in prison?

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to focus on his own breaths as he waited and not on the slow drip of the seconds ticking by, on the terrified murmurs in the back of his head telling him that he shouldn’t be there, that he should leave.

There was a clock on the opposite side of the glass window, but Harry couldn’t make out the numbers. The glass blurred the hands, muddled the minutes.

In and out.

Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry jumped in his seat, a rush of fear and something that he refused to identify swimming in his veins.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Harry tried not to panic, forcing himself to suck in steady breaths to calm himself down and level Tom with the coolest glance he could muster.

This was it.

The moment he’d been waiting for since he’d made his decision.

It was foolish to think that anything could have prepared him for the reality of Tom.

Harry tightened his hands into fists, stomach churning with anger and distress, with longing and hurt.

Tom was sitting in front of the window, arms carefully tucked over his thighs. His hair was well kept even though he wore it longer than Harry remembered, his skin still as bloodless. He looked normal, the same way he had when Harry had last seen him, except—

Harry’s breath caught.

His eyes.

Those were different.

There was something to them now that Harry didn’t recognise, a glint mixed in with a familiar sliver of humour.

Harry swallowed, bracing himself for the task at hand. He wasn’t here for pleasantries, wasn’t here to catch up.

“Why did you do it?”

Tom’s expression didn’t change. If he was bothered by Harry’s lack of greeting, he didn’t show it.

“Why did you kill him?” Harry pressed, fingers beginning to shake and hating himself all the more for it when Tom’s gaze flickered to his hands and back to his face. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but Harry felt its weight like a layer of mesh.

“Is that really what you’ve come all this way to ask, Harry?”

Tom’s lips lifted into a smile as he asked, his eyes flashing with delight. Harry’s jaw clenched.

No.

“Yes.”

Tom tilted his head to one side, assessing, dark ringlets falling in his eyes in a way that they’d never had before as Tom appraised him. Harry’s skin began to crawl.

“Liar,” Tom purred, a hand coming up to press against the cage of glass separating them. “If you can’t be honest with yourself, at least be honest with me, for old time’s sake.”

Harry froze, throat catching when Tom slowly rose from his seat and pressed his other hand against the glass. He was no threat, no genuine danger, but Harry’s mind still shrieked with panic.

Leave. Leave. Leave. You have to leave.

It took every shred of strength Harry possessed to remain sitting.

“Do it.”

Tom’s eyes were smouldering, intent. There was no breath, no twitch that Tom didn’t catch. Harry knew it, could feel the inspection, the dissection, like a physical touch.

Tom had always been able to see right through him.

The circumstances might have changed, but that never would.

I can read you like an open book, a voice so much like Tom’s whispered in the back of Harry’s head.

Harry sucked a slow, steady breath to shake off his unease. He’d been dreading this from the moment he’d stepped on the plane, since he’d first set foot in the prison.

It was a question he’d planned to ask, but on his terms.

Tom had taken that luxury away from him.

“Coward.”

Harry was on his feet before he realised it, vision turning red with rage, stomach tightening with violence.

Coward.

His anger was like a scream, a fire devouring anyone and anything in its path. Harry couldn’t think past the flames, couldn’t breathe through the knots in his stomach demanding that Harry show Tom exactly how much of a coward he was.

Harry pressed so close to the window that his nose touched the glass, hands slapping hard against it.

“Why did he look like me?” Harry snarled, hands curling into fists to stop himself from punching the glass like he wanted to. He’d only hurt his hand if he did—this shit was bulletproof anyway.

Tom’s lips twisted, something feral flashing in his gaze. Malicious.

It was like a bucket of ice water had been tipped all over Harry’s head, like his rage had been sucked right out of him, leaving only horror behind.

“Because I wanted it to be you.”

Harry’s mouth opened, but no words would come. The words were like stones in his stomach, weighing him down, dragging him down to the bottom of the ocean. They were lost.

“Because I—“

“Shut up,” Harry said, refusing to listen any longer, to let Tom say anything else. Something was in his throat, like a lump, a stone. Harry couldn’t swallow past it, couldn’t breathe through the block.

I wanted it to be you.

I wanted it to be—

Harry left, unable to stomach the look in Tom’s eyes, the stupid fucking smile on his face.

He just needed to get away, to get out—

I wanted it to be you.

Harry didn’t make it far. He got as far as the car park before he was vomiting everything he’d had for lunch, tears and snot streaking down his face. It was difficult to breathe, to think about anything but those words.

Those fucking words.

I wanted it to be you.

Harry wish he’d never come.

#tomarry #harrymort #I did a thing #one word prompt #Anonymous

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

THE PENSIEVE (TLTNL)

Harry didn't want to be left staring at that book any longer than he had to for now, it caused too many terrible stirrings in the back of his mind as he kept contemplating on what his connection to Voldemort could mean. Bad things, of that he was sure. So instead he engaged himself as much as he could in conversation and honestly tried to drag it out far more than called for even after lunch was done, and dragged his feet back to the reading spot.

At least his mother offered one last word of comfort before Remus could start. "I know what you've been doing love, but I know everything's going to work itself out."

"How do you know?" Harry sighed, and they were all getting very concerned at how hollow his voice sounded right then. It was very clearly written all over him he was foreseeing how bad this was going to get before it gets better.

"Because I know it will," she stated back with pure confidence. "Because you're here now, a handsome grown man, and so everything else will work itself out."

Harry flushed at the compliment, which made Lily smile as that had been her point.

"Maybe, maybe even Dumbledore will see you as old enough now and will explain to you properly more about your scar." James offered hopefully, still knowing he wanted that answer more than anything, as he hoped it would directly link to why Voldemort had even gone after his family.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry now said, back to his usual tone and a small smile lingering as Remus began.

The door opened to Moody escorting him in, and Harry was back inside Dumbledore's circular office with all the old headmaster and mistress portraits on the wall snoring.

"I never understood why those things fake that," Sirius rolled his eyes. "Portraits don't even need sleep, they just fake it to annoy us!"

Fudge was hovering by Dumbledore's desk, greeting Harry pleasantly and asking how he was.

"Annoyed," James answered for him at the presence of Fudge in general, let alone the actual reason Harry was there.

Harry lied he was fine, while Fudge explained they were about to have a look on the grounds where Crouch had vanished, Fudge confirming it had been Harry to last see this?

"Yes, somehow you always find a way to be the source of a lot of things," Remus agreed.

Harry wished he could deny that one.

Harry again agreed, and then decided it was pointless to pretend like he hadn't overheard their conversation,

"You seem to have that attitude a lot," Sirius shook his head in disbelief at Harry. "What on earth possessed you to admit to ease dropping as much as you do?"

Harry shrugged for answer.

he said he hadn't seen Maxime anywhere there, and she'd have a job of hiding.

Lily had a triumphant grin in place, fighting back the impulse to high five her son for that.

Dumbledore gave Harry a smile for that while Fudge blustered a bit before changing the subject that they'd be back soon and Harry should go back to class for a time.

"I'm thinking about paying Dumbledore to fire that woman so no one ever has to go back to that class," James grouched.

Harry quickly said he'd come here to see Dumbledore, and it was important!

Dumbledore watched him for a moment before telling Harry to wait here in the office,

"Wait what," Sirius began scowling at once. "He can't tell the Minister to be waiting! Dumbledore must know Harry wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. I don't want to hear about that stupid whatever it was again, but that doesn't mean Dumbledore should be brushing you off!"

"He wasn't really," Harry edged, his mind plucking up one feeble solution as offering. "He was trying to get rid of Fudge so he wouldn't hover. Dealing with his problem first meant he would leave, then Dumbledore could give me his full attention."

No one looked all that happy with this.

until he got back.

The three left, and Harry did another examination of the office before spotting Fawkes.*

No one could stop a soft smile even if they all did shiver in remembrance of the last time that bird had showed up.

Harry sank into the chair across from Dumbledore's desk and continued looking around the rest of the office, still rubbing absently at his scar and thinking on what had brought him here. Somehow he felt calmer in Dumbledore's office.

Sirius tried to hide how affronted he was that Harry hadn't taken the initiative to go send him a letter about this. If Dumbledore was telling Harry to wait, then at least Harry could be sending the message to someone he should know would care at that instant.

On Dumbledore's bookshelf sat a large sword in a glass case with rubies encrusted in the hilt,

James let out a laugh he didn't really feel as he said, "should I be mad on your part Dumbledore kept that? It was rightfully Harry's having pulled it out."

"Maybe it's technically a weapon, and he'll give it to Harry when he's of age?" Lily offered.

Harry felt his insides squirming at the reappearance of Godric Gryffindor's sword...and tried his best to ignore the feeling that he'd need that sword again around his time of coming of age...

and his mind wandered back to when he'd first seen that, before he realized that there was something sparkling off the glass, and he looked around for the source, spotting a partially opened cabinet behind him.

"I'm guessing that means that Fudge just showed up then without forewarning," Remus muttered in annoyance, as he couldn't think up many other reasons why Dumbledore would be so careless like that.

Harry only hesitated for a moment before opening the cabinet.

Sirius and James began laughing like idiots at once, no one needing to ask why as it was clear they would have done the exact same thing.

Remus and Lily exchanged an exasperated look at the pair, but neither would deny either curiosity most likely would have gotten the better of them as well.

Inside was a basin with runes carved along the edges and a silvery light emitting from its contents.

Remus' mind hovered over that description for a moment before he asked, "does that sound like a Pensieve?"

"Sounds like," Sirius agreed. "Doesn't surprise me one bit that Dumbledore has one."

Harry not only remembered the explanation of what that was, but absently nodded to himself in assurance of that being the right answer. At least now he understood why he'd thought he'd come across one of these. It still didn't explain his feeling of significance, leaving him wondering just what was so important about this particular Pensieve. What memories could it hold that should mean so much to his life?

He couldn't tell whether the substance was liquid or gas.

"Neither, it's magic," Sirius whispered in a mystical voice, getting Harry to laugh and break his concentration.

It seemed to keep switching between the two even as he watched. He wanted to touch it,

James whacked Harry upside the head.

"Ouch," Harry protested as he rubbed the spot. "What was that for?"

"Four years in the magical world, all you've gotten up to, and still your first impulse is to touch the strange stuff you had no idea what it was." The father rolled his eyes, honestly wondering how his son had made it to his current age. All while trying to deny he'd instantly felt bad for cuffing Harry, his mind having a horrible flicker to the Dursley's, and wishing he'd put more thought into the action, but Harry hardly seemed worse for wear as he finished, "That could have been some deadly poison for all you knew."

"It said I wanted to," Harry emphasized. "Not that I'd done it," yet, his brain finished, giving an extra hard wince for that in annoyance of remembering even a few seconds too soon. He decided he'd better get used to ducking.

and see what it felt like, but his time in the magical world had taught him better about touching any old thing.

"Ha!" Harry smirked at him.

James relented at once, holding his hands up in surrender and apologizing for the blow.

Instead he pulled out his wand and poked it.

"That's hardly better," Lily shook her head at her son. "Beyond James' point, that isn't yours to be messing with."

Harry had no defense for that.

The silvery substance began to take shape, spinning and swirling as it took on density, and suddenly Harry seemed to be looking through a window.

If they'd had any doubt it was a Pensieve before, it was gone now, that was the perfect description of looking on a memory. Considering the last memory Harry had seen though, none of them could pretend enthusiasm for another one popping up.

The room was poorly lit with only torches on the wall, and seemed to be circular with rows of benches lowering in levels to the small open area that had a chair in the center with heavy chains attached to it.

Everyone felt themselves tighten up as they jumped to where that could possibly be, and it did make since being in Dumbledore's memories.

Harry didn't recognize it, nor anyone in the tiny crowd below, it certainly didn't seem like anywhere in Hogwarts.

"Well if we're right, then you're right," Lily sighed.

At Harry's blank look, she explained, "it sounds like the courtrooms the Ministry of Magic has."

Harry half wished she hadn't answered, he didn't like the settling feeling telling him his mother was right, or how his mind instantly offered up how awful that place was.

There was silence except for the occasional ruffle of someone shifting around, all were gazing in one direction Harry couldn't see. He tried to lean closer, and his nose grazed the surface.

"I guess landing in there is better than crouching over it the whole time," Remus rolled his eyes. "You were clearly interested enough you weren't going to take a hint and move away."

"Which means he'll be stuck in that thing until Dumbledore comes back to pull him out," James shook his head, "which automatically means you're busted kiddo."

Without warning Harry was pitched forward, falling through color and sound until he landed without warning amongst the witches he'd once seen from above, but when he looked up, there was only a shadowed ceiling. Not one person took notice of the fourteen year old landing in their midst.

"It's a good thing I've lived through one of these before," Harry sighed, "otherwise I'd be much more concerned."

"At least this time we know the source of it," Lily still couldn't stop a shiver as she remembered that diary.

Then he looked again and spotted a wizard on his right, and shouted in surprise to see Dumbledore! He began apologizing at once at finding him here, but then stuttered himself off and asked where they were?

"That's your first question?" Sirius gave a breathy laugh to Harry to remind himself where he was. "Not, hey, didn't you just leave your office, how'd you get here?"

"I basically asked the same thing," Harry defended, wondering why his godfather looked as sick to his stomach as Harry felt.

Dumbledore gave no indication he'd heard Harry, and something began to dawn on him.

James began mock applauding him, and Harry smacked at his hands to get him to stop.

Something like this had happened once before, when he'd landed in a memory.

"All kinds of things from your second year are popping up this chapter," Lily gave an awkward giggle.

Second year, something of that niggled at Harry as he kept watching Sirius, something he'd heard about him, it came to him in a flash as he remembered them finishing that second book, and how Sirius had confided the Ministry had nearly dragged him in for some attack on a Muggle that had lived near Sirius. This was most likely the place Sirius would have been dragged to, which explained why he was being so particularly twitchy.

So curious, he waved his hand energetically in front of him.

Remus gave a surprised snort of laughter, just imagining someone doing that to Dumbledore.

Again his headmaster gave no acknowledgment to Harry, didn't even flinch, so Harry decided the matter was settled.

"You will make one great Auror," James continued mocking his son, it was much more fun than other memories that place stirred. "That was brilliant detective work."

Dumbledore wouldn't so blatantly ignore him like that, so he must be in a memory, but not one from too long ago as he was still as silvery haired as Harry had left him.

"Yeah, but the guys over a hundred years old," Remus shrugged. "At some point after seventy, you kind of just look that ancient no matter how many birthdays you have."

"How long do wizards normally live?"** Harry asked in surprise, Dumbledore still seemed to act in the prime of his youth despite his age. It was clearly longer than Muggles.

"Depends on how much magic you fiddle with," Lily shrugged. "There was an article last week about someone celebrating their 300th birthday, but I knew a girl's gran who died at 169 just from old age passing in Saint Mungo's because she was tired of further treatment."

"There's this guy who gave us our Transfiguration tests," James agreed, "and I swear he's got to be almost a thousand years old he looks so ancient, but when I asked he just told me to get back to work."

Harry's mind boggled at the idea of living so long even without a Philosopher's Stone which apparently had already allowed Flamel more than double a normal life expectancy, but it also made it all the more bitter as he watched those around him talk. He'd always seen how sad it was for his parents to have died so young, now it was made all the worse in realizing just how young by their own normal life expectancy.

He still had no clue where he was, or what everyone was waiting on. Harry's best guess is that they were somewhere underground as he eyed the double doors like everyone else.

Harry and his observation at it again, Sirius mentally grumbled at how true that was.

There was a heavy air of bleakness surrounding the place, no decorations to speak of, just that chair glinting in the small spotlight for all to see.

Harry had a growing sense of fear creeping up at him from the memory of this place, those chains, that chair. Surely though he'd never had a real life experience of them, Dumbledore's memory should be the only time he'd ever have to deal with a place like this...

Finally the doors banged open, and a man was being supported inside by two dementors.

Sirius shuddered so violently he would have fallen over if he hadn't been sitting down. Of course no one bothered to ask him why, and honestly they wouldn't even be surprised if Padfoot didn't make another appearance. It had to be traumatizing for someone who'd heard they'd be spending their life entrapped by those things and even a random mention pop up could cause another onset of fear to come in.

Even without the affects those creatures could have on one, Harry felt his insides go cold as they entered the room, their skeletal hands keeping the man between them.

Harry shivered almost as hard as his godfather as he remembered those clammy hands trapping his throat and trying to force him to face that nightmarish face. He didn't care if it was just a memory, that feeling washed over him clear as day.

The hooded beings put the man in the chair, where the chains quickly came to life and strapped him in, then they departed and the doors shut behind him.

Sirius made some form of a noise, maybe a laugh but it was too twisted to tell, as he tried to rasp out, "least they didn't stick around inside." James wanted to ask if he wanted a break, or perhaps check his head and make sure he wasn't suffering brain damage, but Remus was clearly trying to pretend like this was going to be better if he read faster.

Upon closer inspection, it was Karkaroff.

Lily jerked in surprise at that news, at least her mind effectively being taken off of Sirius to wonder just what kind of memory Harry was sitting in on.

Unlike Dumbledore, the man was much younger, his hair and goatee now black. Instead of the rich furs, he was wearing ragged clothing, and the chains were the only thing keeping him upright.

Sirius couldn't hold it in anymore as he jumped from his seat, jumped clean over the little coffee table, and kept shaking his twitching limbs like he was trying to throw something off all the while still making that creepy noise like he was trying to laugh but his throat wasn't working right.

"Sirius!" Harry yelped in concern as he realized Sirius was still trying to stave off some growing feeling of being confined in Azkaban.

James gently tried to calm him saying, "I promise Padfoot, they're not going to get away with doing that to you. Just breathe mate."

"Right, yeah," his head jerked more than nodded agreement. "You know what irony is?" He demanded back, all of them growing more concerned by the second as he stumbled more than paced across the hearth. Lily honestly had to fight down the urge to stop him just for the fear he could fall into the flames he was acting so uncoordinated. "The fact that they were trying to drag me in for something I had nothing to do with, instead of the time where I should have gotten a stupid trial."

Remus rubbed furiously at his temple as he watched his friend, but still tried for a soothing voice rather than threatening violence. "Believe me, we're not going to let them get away with that."

Sirius had no response to that. He wanted to thank them for continuously forcing that promise on him, it really meant more to him than he could put into words, but at the moment he couldn't find any to use as he just waved at Remus to go on.

A voice on Harry's left acknowledged Igor Karkaroff to the courts, the speaker was Crouch.

Sirius really wouldn't stop that creepy laugh as he kept muttering about Karkaroff getting a trial. Lily was half tempted to put a silencing charm on him just to make that noise go away.

Like Karkaroff, his age was younger, his face full and healthy with a fit build and dark hair.

They all reasoned that this must happen in a very short time in their own future, or not to long after the downfall of Voldemort. Either way, they weren't exactly up for hearing whatever this was about.

Crouch continued by saying that Karkaroff had been brought here in front of the Ministry to present information.

Karkaroff tried to straighten himself in his bindings.

Sirius tripped on the edge of the rug and nearly face planted the carpet, only just catching himself on the mantel above the fireplace. Thankfully for Sirius, the others pretended not to notice.

Karkaroff agreed at once, and though his voice was flat scared, Harry could still spot his tones he used now. Continued by saying he wanted to help the Ministry, in support of them to rid the last of the free Dark Lord supporters.

Well there was that answer at least. They were actually all the more infuriated this was happening after Voldemort's downfall, because this meant that scum like Karkaroff was still getting an appearance like this when Sirius would still be denied one!

On Dumbledore's other side, another voice spoke about how much filth Karkaroff was.

Harry leaned over and spotted Mad-Eye.

"Wonder if he's the arresting officer," James muttered mostly to himself. That was usually the only reason for Auror's to make appearances, but that was at actual trials to convict these people to Azkaban, this was an after the fact type thing that James honestly had no idea about. He'd never heard of someone being pulled out of Azkaban after they'd been sent there.

With the noticeable difference of not having his magical eye, instead two normal ones.

"Now I can see why it was so weird for you guys to picture him like that," Harry nodded, though it was all the more weird for him to see the man without it.

He was looking down upon Karkaroff with intense dislike.

"I'd be more worried if he did look friendly," Sirius muttered as he continued trying to wear out the carpet.

Moody was still chatting with Dumbledore about how he saw no point in Crouch doing this deal, it had taken Moody six months to track this guy down and now he was being let go because of some names.

Between James and Sirius saying so many foul mouthed things for this actually happening to a prisoner who didn't deserve it, Harry was starting to wonder just how long a lifespan Crouch should expect when the spell broke over this place.

Moody thought they should get the names and then give Karkaroff back to the dementors.

"Moody's seemed to have had the best ideas all year," Remus nodded savagely.

Dumbledore made a noise of protest, which Moody caught and corrected himself, he'd forgotten Albus' dislike of dementors.

"Forgot Dumbledore actually disliked those things," Sirius threw his hands up in exasperation, he was starting to look worn from his own energy leaving him, but still his feet kept at their rhythm in protest. Movement felt better than his mind trying to fail him.

"I'm inclined to disagree on Dumbledore with this one though," James snapped. He despised dementors in every way possible, but some people who weren't Sirius deserved them.

Crouch was speaking again, telling Karkaroff to begin the names.

Karkaroff began by saying that only He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named truly knew all of his followers, he'd done this for secrecy, and Karkaroff regretted ever counting himself a part of that.

"Because you got caught," Lily hissed. She hadn't seen an ounce of anything to show her otherwise, and she wasn't in a particularly giving mood to see anything else.

Moody pointed out that had been wise move, so scum like Karkaroff couldn't be pulling this trick.

"Moody's making all my commentary for me," James tried his hardest to crack a joke he wasn't even sure Sirius heard.

Karkaroff was telling the names he did know in a sign of how he utterly renounced those ways-

Crouch cut him off to tell him to start giving up those names.

Lily never thought she'd be agreeing with Crouch about anything, but she certainly wished Karkaroff would get on with it. Honestly this whole ordeal felt pointless to her as she kept fearfully watching Sirius' feet start to drag. She still remembered why Harry had gotten into this in the first place, so even once all of this horrid Azkaban and prisoner talk was over, they were still going to have to hear something just as bad.

The first name he gave was Antonin Dolohov,

Harry felt a stirring in his mind, a whisper of that name being mentioned to him some other time...by Mrs. Weasley? That didn't make a lot of sense though...Then his eyes flickered to Remus and away so fast that it all evaporated into the recesses of his mind.

who'd been seen torturing Muggles.

Moody muttered about how Karkaroff had helped him do it.

"Now this is just getting insulting," Remus agreed with James, "he's taking all our good material away."

The four of them were instantly delighted when Sirius even pretended at his own joking tone. "Guess we should just be thankful he hasn't been here with us, or this would be a more recurring problem."

"Plus he would have cursed us all into oblivion by now for annoying him," James tried for a natural laugh.

Crouch said they already had him in custody.

Karkaroff said he was happy to hear it, but his tone didn't show as he realized one of his names was worthless.

"It's too bad they all aren't," Lily scowled, determined to make it so in this proper timeline, she wasn't letting Karkaroff get away with this the second time no matter how many people he gave up in his place.

Still he forced out another name, Evan Rosier.

"I remember him from school," Remus gave a hateful scowl, "couldn't walk down a bleeding corridor without finding that loon cursing someone."

"I'm sure you all emulated him," Lily muttered sarcastically without really meaning it. The Marauders had never done half the terrible things some of the pre Death Eaters had gotten up to.

Crouch said back Rosier had died in a struggle to bring him in.

Moody agreed that one had taken some of him with him, pointing to his half missing nose.

"Good to know where that came from," James muttered randomly.

Despite Karkaroff saying that was well deserved, it was clear he was starting to panic, what if none of his names were useful?

"Clearly some of it is though," Sirius couldn't help but point out. "We've had suspicions about Rosier, but now we actually know he was a Death Eater."

"I'm not entirely sure I even trust whatever names Karkaroff supplies," Remus disagreed. "For all we know he could throw any name out he wanted to just to get himself some good will."

"And it's not like I'm going to trust Crouch on his investigations into these names," James agreed.

Now desperate, Karkaroff began spouting several and what they'd done, including Travers who murdered the McKinnon's,

Lily's eyes flashed with hatred at learning the killer of one of her friends, while Sirius wobbled hard again. He'd dated Marlene for a bit in school, it was an extra sharp blow at the reminder someone he even distantly knew was soon to die.

Mulciber, who specialized in the Imperius Curse,

"Another lunatic we had the displeasure of knowing in school," James snapped. "Wasn't he the one who got caught dangling some kid from a third floor window?"

"It was that Boot kid, yeah," Remus agreed.

Rookwood, who'd been passing information from inside the Ministry.

Harry felt a tingling sensation at the mention of that name, he was sure he should remember something about it. For some reason his first thought was to go to Bagman... but then why could he almost hear the echo of Percy shouting that name distantly in his mind? None of this was making any sense, and apparently he wasn't the only one.

"Well you were right Sirius," Lily said begrudgingly. "That's a new name for us."

Sirius still looked testy they were having to learn this information in the way they were and didn't look up to gloating.

Karkaroff struck gold with the last one,

"It's not at all comforting we weren't the only ones in the dark about this," Remus scowled.

as Crouch repeated Augustus Rookwood, of the Department of Mysteries?

"Oh that's even better," James' scowl increased. "He works in one of the top Departments!"

Karkaroff eagerly agreed, he knew the man had many high end networks he'd been using to collect information from inside the Ministry.

Lily remembered back to Remus' earlier words about how they really shouldn't even be putting much stock into all the names given, even if each so far had panned out. They should be taking everything a Death Eater said with a grain of salt.

Crouch jotted something down while Karkaroff continued, next naming Snape.

"There it is," James remarked. "Something I've been saying for years, and it had to be this whack job to finally agree with me."

"Clearly it didn't work," Remus sighed.

Crouch passed that one up, as Dumbledore himself had vouched for Snape.

Sirius made a noise like a kicked puppy while everyone else snapped in outrage at the absurdity of that. His mind was jammed on the fact that his old headmaster, a man who had inducted him into the Order, had actually passed him over for Snape of all people!

Lily snatched the book away from Remus so viciously that she actually left the page behind in his hand that held what she'd wanted to read. She took that away too and read that one for herself while James thundered, "you have got to be kidding me? Dumbledore kept Snape out of Azkaban, actually defended that slime ridden toadstool, but Sirius hadn't been given the time of day!"

"I just, it really boggles the mind, what the hell does Dumbledore have on Snape that has him so convinced he wasn't a Death Eater!" Remus demanded of nothing, honestly wishing the man was here so he could curse the answer out of him. "Everything else in the world is saying otherwise?"

Lily was disgusted with herself when she realized she saw this as good news. She still hated Snape, would never forgive him for what he was doing to her son and the kids his age, but did this actually mean that Snape did still have something left in him of that friend Lily had once known? What did Dumbledore know that they didn't, that would make him trust Snape like this? She silently passed the book back to Remus with a quick uttered charm to fix it and just sat there, biting at her lip and twirling her hair into her fingers as her mind grappled with her to understand all these conflictions.

Harry was mentally agreeing with his mother, though of course neither had any idea of this. He really was trying to understand what Dumbledore knew, what he'd seen in Snape that made the man so forgivable? Had he ever found this out? He couldn't even fathom the idea as of now, but...

Remus kept watching Sirius for a while, he didn't want to keep going when the hurt was rolling off of Sirius in waves at this news, but when Sirius seemed to realize the silence was dragging on because of him, he met his friends eyes and put his cocky front back on. "You can keep eyeing me all you want Moony, but I've told you how ineffective that flirting technique is."

Remus flipped him off and turned back to the book.

Karkaroff protested at once, assuring that Severus Snape was a Death Eater!

Harry felt like something was trying to split his skull in two at that statement as every memory he held was confident that was true, even his gut wasn't exactly trying to deny that...but still there was something somewhere in a dark corner of his mind trying to pipe up and say something in an alien language.

Dumbledore stood amongst the crowd, giving his testimony that Snape had been a Death Eater, but had flipped side's right before Voldemort's downfall and was now spying for them, he was no longer considered a Death Eater.

"A spy hu?" James's brows were threatening to get lost in his hair as his tone colored every bit of his disbelief. "I never in my life thought I'd see Dumbledore duped, but if that is honestly what he's going with, I will start that man's funeral myself."

Harry laughed mechanically as he like everyone else honestly thought Dumbledore was just lying, or somehow leaving something out, or something! There was no way that was really the reason, the man had no need to switch sides. But then that still left the question as open ended as when they'd started, what was really going on here?

Harry turned to look at Mad-Eye. He was wearing a look of deep skepticism behind Dumbledore's back.

"As if I needed further proof," Sirius sighed as he sank to the floor in front of the fire, stretching his back to the warmth. They all gave him one more concerned look, but clearly he wanted easier access to keep up his movement if he needed to again, and if not being confined to a chair helped with that no one was going to tell him otherwise. He picked up a poker and began shifting some logs around, though the magical flames didn't need them, just for something to do with his hands.

Crouch told Karkaroff if that was all, he would await in Azkaban while they looked over this new information... his voice was fading out and suddenly Harry was lost in swirls of color and sound again.

Harry was starting to feel a little panicky, wondering if something was wrong with the Pensieve, had it somehow been broken?

Lily opened her mouth to correct him, but Remus had the same impulse to do so before glancing down and seeing Harry worked it out for himself so read over her.

Just as suddenly he was right back where he started, in the same place, but a seemingly new environment. Now everyone was chatting and perfectly cheerful.

It didn't take long for Harry to figure out by himself though that this was simply another memory, and they had said Pensieves can house a lot of memories as opposed to that diary that just had the one.

The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event.

Harry felt like that was ominous for whatever moment was to come, while at his side James gave an unhappy smirk and said, "well I'm so glad they're all enjoying themselves at someone else's trial, who's coming in next, a Parkinson?"

Across from Harry he could spot someone in the crowd who stuck out, a young Rita Skeeter.

Lily made a retching noise of disgust at having to deal with her again at any given time. Just to break the mood more than looking for an answer, she turned to Harry and asked, "Any status updates on what Hermione's revenge on her is?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "I hadn't really the time to ask, figured she'd tell me when she got something."

Harry saw she wasn't the only thing different, Dumbledore looked the same but in different robes, Crouch looked older and more gaunt, and Harry understood this was a different trial.

"I wonder why Dumbledore was looking at these anyways," Remus asked.

"Who knows what that man gets up to," James shrugged.

The door in the corner opened, and Bagman walked into the room.

"Oh?" James asked with increasing frustration, he almost would have preferred another Death Eater to whatever this idiot was up to.

He was not the retired man of Harry's time though, but fit and muscular, clearly at the height of his Quidditch career, his nose wasn't even broken yet.

Sirius nodded to himself, more than happy at this turn of events. This was the Bagman he pictured whenever the guy was annoying Harry, and the one he kept imagining punching in the face.

Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had Karkaroff.

"Lucky him," Sirius rolled his eyes, giving one more tight shiver that was finally starting to ease as he scooted himself just a bit closer to the flames, though his jerking hand spit a flicker onto the carpet. He put the poker up and quickly put it out and hoped Lily didn't notice.

This seemed to give him confidence, as he gave a cheery wave to the crowed, a few of which did so back.

"Least someone's having fun," Remus rolled his eyes.

Crouch began same as before, counting the charges that Bagman had been called here to face charges of Death Eater activity.

"Whoa, what!" James spluttered, entirely sure he'd heard that wrong.

Remus just blinked down at the pages for a few moments, nodding dumbly, but when everyone else looked too frozen in shock to remark he kept going.

Bagman could give a final testimony before judgement was passed.

Bagman began to say he knew he'd been an idiot, while Crouch's look clearly said he agreed with that part.

"Oh, remember Winky!" Lily suddenly yelped. "You don't really think this is what she meant about Bagman, do you?"

"That he's a Death Eater?" Sirius shook his head, even hearing it firsthand he couldn't put his mind around it. "I really can't think so, the guy's an idiot, but not that kind."

"Rita Skeeter's there as well," Remus reminded, still keeping a frown on the page. "Remember her comment about Bagman as well? I really can't imagine what else those two separate people could be talking about."

While another voice muttered how true that was. Harry looked around to see Mad-Eye again, telling Dumbledore how Bagman was so dim, it wouldn't surprise him if the Bludgers weren't the source.

The boys gave a light chuckle of appreciation.

Crouch cut in, referring to his full name of Ludovic Bagman being caught passing information to an informant of Voldemort!

"Did Crouch really say Voldemort's name, or are you substituting?" James yelped in surprise.

"Ah, no, I didn't. Crouch really said it," Remus looked as stunned by this as the events happening to Bagman.

"Jeez, this really does sound bad though," Lily shook her head at this happening.

"It can't have stuck though," Sirius was frowning deeply, "I mean, remember Arthur? You'd think he'd be a lot less willing to help out a guy like Bagman if he was a Death Eater, and they seemed at least on good terms."

"I'll give Sirius that," Remus agreed, "Crouch has proven to be the kind to strike first and not question it at all," the pronounced scowl on his face didn't need to be questioned, "even if I can't think of how this can be misinterpreted, I'd still take Bagman over Crouch."

Crouch began setting the sentence of his time in Azkaban, but the crowd began shouting its disapproval.

"Look Moony, you got a whole crowd agreeing with you," James smirked. "Who says you're not a people person?"

Bagman spoke above them all, pleading them to understand he hadn't known that's what he was doing, Rookwood had been a friend of his dad,

"Oh," they all muttered, well there it was, turns out there was some wiggle room for Bagman's innocence, and they all honestly believed it.

he'd had no idea he was on You-Know-Who's side. Rookwood had been promising him a job in the Ministry after he retired.

Sirius couldn't stop a happy enough laugh at knowing those end results.

Crouch was clearly unimpressed, but the vote was put up. Not one person raised their hand in favor of imprisonment.

Lily whistled in surprise, it really was something when there was a unanimous vote.

After that was passed, one witch even stood up in the crowd to congratulate Bagman on his recent win against Turkey.

"I feel like now's not the time to bring that up," Remus shook his head in disbelief.

"Don't know what you're talking about," James scoffed back, "Quidditch stats can break any tension."

Bagman gave a cheerful wave as he exited, while Crouch muttered his disgust over this. Saying the day he joined the Ministry they'd all be ruined.

This time they all laughed at that, it was nice to see Crouch eating even a tiny bit of his words.

It happened again, everything faded around Harry, and then he was sat in on another completely different environment. Crouch was at his oldest yet, and there was a woman by his side sobbing.

Lily felt her chest give an extra hard thump at the start of this display, already wishing she could go back and hear more about Bagman.

The crowd was whispering, and everyone was watching Crouch nervously as he shouted for the prisoners to be brought in.

"Wait, this isn't..." Remus trailed off in surprise, wondering if they were thinking the same as him. His mind was also caught on the sobbing woman, and now all attention seemed to be on Crouch as much as the prisoners...this wasn't really Crouch's son's trial, was it?

Dementors came in escorting four people, the two stand outs being a woman who looked as if she were at her coronation,

Harry gave a particularly vicious shiver at even the thought of her, his eyes flickering to Sirius and away before he could understand why, but Sirius wasn't the only one. Now his mind was trying to force him to seek out others, like where Hermione and Dobby were, even Neville...then he started to get double vision from too many memories jostling to attention at once, and he snapped it all off before he drove himself crazy.

and a pale sickly boy with straw colored hair and milk white skin under his freckles.

Harry's hands were starting to shake, he was starting to look as sickly as that boy was described, but despite the overwhelming since of bad he was getting from this kid he still refused to acknowledge what it could mean, it would cost him too much if he found out now, so he refused to let anyone linger on him and pleadingly waved Remus on, who agreed under duress.

The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief.

James felt the stirrings of pity taking hold of him, he couldn't even imagine what that woman was going through, having to watch this.

Crouch began as usual, stating the crimes, but going so far as to state it was the most heinous-

Harry felt like a live bug was crawling just underneath his skin, the urge to blurt something out about that crime almost overwhelming, he didn't need the pain from his body telling him how bad this was going to get.

but was nearly cut off by the sick boy screaming and pleading for his father.

At this point nobody had any doubts, but they weren't any more pleased to realize they were right.

Crouch ignored him by stating they had evidence that these four had been accused of capturing Alice Longbottom, and her husband Auror Frank.

"No." Lily hardly heard her own whisper of denial, it came out more like a softly uttered scream. They'd all realized ages ago that Frank and Alice must have died for Neville to have no mention of them, but they'd never wanted to learn how! This, this was so much worse than just hearing about it, they didn't want details!

Remus did not want to keep going, he kept picturing kind faced Alice giggling at their last Order meeting as she and Lily swapped stories about their babies, while Frank and James were bemoaning some already forgotten squabble from a bet they'd made. The Marauders had known those two most of their lives, they'd only been a few years above them in school and were always popular with all the houses. It never hurt any less, but in fact kept getting all the worse the more they realized just how many people were set to die. The only thing that convinced him to keep going was the firm thought that this wasn't true now. He would see them again at the next meeting, warn them when they got out of here. They just had to be able to fix this.

They'd been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse in efforts to find if the Longbottom's had information on You-Know-Who.

Sirius was entirely certain that whatever research he'd done while he was out, he hadn't learned that tidbit. Otherwise he liked to think he would have passed that part on...but then again maybe not, that was gruesome enough he hardly even wanted to consider thinking about it, he most definitely didn't want to tell his pup about this.

Crouch's son was still sobbing in chains, trying to plead to his father he hadn't done this, please don't send him back to the dementors!

James was having a painful internal conflict, thinking if anyone deserved a dementor sentence it was the people who had done that to Frank and Alice, but then he just couldn't see how Crouch did this to his own kid. He couldn't even posture the idea in his own head if that were Harry what he'd do, the idea was too repulsive to even form. He just sat there with a sense of morbid disconnection, wondering how much more he could hear about all of these terrible things before he snapped.

Still he was ignored as Crouch tried to turn to the jury, but then the boy begged of his mother to stop this, it wasn't him!

Little marks were appearing on Lily's palms, her nails doing their best to dig past the skin but her hands shaking so bad the shapes weren't exact crescents. She hated Crouch, had never even met Mrs. Crouch, but would not have wished this happening on any person on earth.

Crouch boomed for the jury to give these crimes a life sentence in Azkaban.

In unison, the witches and wizards raised their hands.

Lily had now only ever heard of two instances with a unanimous vote, and she much preferred the first one she'd heard, this one was going to haunt her for ages.

The boy began screaming mercilessly, sobbing for help, he hadn't done this!

Sirius made an inhuman noise, pressing his hand to his ears at the thought. That image swimming back across his mind of having to picture that through the bars of his own cell in Azkaban. He refused to let himself cave again, he would not be weak and just flip forms every time this was brought up, this hadn't even happened to him yet, so he sat there and glared at that stupid book, just daring it to try and make him act like a coward again.

The dementors were coming back in, unchaining their new life victims, while the woman finally made herself heard as she spoke for all to hear that the Dark Lord would rise again, and he would come for them all. Azkaban would not keep them apart, and they would be rewarded for their faithful service.

'I'm sure that'll be a great comfort to the lunatic who tortures his followers,' Remus mentally snarled at this depraved soul, but he was tired, and he wanted this more than any other to fade into a different memory already.

The boy tried one more time, kicking and screaming to Crouch that he couldn't do this, he was his son!

Crouch returned he had no son.

And here they'd actually thought they couldn't hate Crouch more, look how wrong they were. Desperation could be very motivating, they really had no proof one way or the other if that kid was involved with the Longbottom's, he could be saying this to keep himself away from the dementors, but no one really believed it in that moment. What Crouch had just done was just too heartbreaking to have really come from a man's mouth.

The woman at his side lost herself, and fainted. Crouch gave no notice.

Lily had always stopped whatever she was doing to try and offer help, comfort, support, whatever she could whenever she saw anyone in pain...but she couldn't even begin to form something for a mother in that position. Crouch's lack of any clear caring when it came to his wife any more than his son just made the man all the more despicable.

Crouch ordered them to be taken away, and let them rot.

Harry had to take a slow, deep breath. He was convinced that feeling wringing his gut was the tragedy of this situation, not something to counter what Crouch had said, why this all felt so important to him...

Amidst the passing screams, a quiet voice in Harry's ear told him it was time to go.

Remus had been reading on autopilot so long just to force himself to get past all this, he almost read right over that without realizing it. Now he did a double take, and almost sobbed he was so relieved to finally be focusing on anything new.

Harry startled, looking at the Dumbledore beside him who was still watching the proceedings, but then on his other side was another Dumbledore looking directly at him.

Sirius worked furiously with himself for a moment, his mind scrambling for any stupid joke he could throw out just for even a second's relief as he settled on, "Hey look, Moony gets to prove his earlier point, twelve years doesn't make a difference to that guy!"

It wasn't actually funny, that particular time frame only served as a reminder for Sirius' actual sentence, but he was reward by at least pretend smiles.

Dumbledore caught Harry's arm, he had the odd sensation of performing a backflip through nothing, and suddenly they were in Dumbledore's office again.

Harry was more than happy to finally be away from that place and think on anything else, like that feeling he'd had earlier about this Pensieve. Now he was all the more convinced he was indeed experiencing Deja vu' with his headmaster pulling him out of it.

Harry began apologizing at once for being in there, but Dumbledore merely said he understood.

"Does anything make this guy mad?" James muttered, his fingers tapping out a fast rhythm on his knee to get out some nerves. He was happy Harry wasn't in trouble of course, but the underwhelming response still deserved a comment.

Dumbledore took the basin out of the cabinet and brought it over to be set on his desk, while Harry took a chair and asked what it was.

Dumbledore explained it was a Pensieve, and all its properties.

"Do you still have the memories when they're not in your head?" Harry asked as his mind tried to comprehend this.

"You're aware the events still happened," Lily agreed, "but you can't access the actual memory, like there's a blanket over it."

Dumbledore liked to use this method to find patterns and links.

"So did I just fall into the most recent memories Dumbledore was looking at?" Harry kept asking for more, his mind finally trying to settle at ease with everything he'd just heard.

Hearing Harry talk was also a more pleasant reminder than anything else they were thinking of, which is why James was more than happy to tell Harry he was right and be happy when he asked for more.

"How does this thing even work? How do you pull memories out, and can you put them into any bowl to make it a Pensieve?"

"Sadly not. It takes some skilled magic to learn to pull memories, and then you have to craft the basin from certain materials, imbed it with some charms and brew a potion in it before it'll contain memories. These aren't particularly common objects, bloody expensive to buy and just as much work to make."

Harry thanked him and let the matter go for now so that the chapter could continue, even if he was sure these Pensieve memories would pop up again.

Harry was surprised to learn the swirling material he was watching the bowl was thoughts.

Dumbledore agreed, and did a demonstration, placing his wand to his forehead, and coming away with another silvery wisp of no substance. He added it to the bowl, causing it to begin swirling again, before solidifying into Harry's face, which morphed into Snape.

"Well that was just insulting," Sirius scoffed.

His voice echoed as if from the bottom of a cave as the Snape spoke to Dumbledore about Karkaroff's too, it was becoming stronger and clearer than ever.

"Isn't that what Karkaroff said about the thing on his arm?" Remus frowned, his own fear rearing up every time this was mentioned which kept happening more and more frequently. "I don't suppose Dumbledore knows what 'it' is."

"Here's hoping we find out," James grumbled.

That faded back into more swirls of silver, while Dumbledore continued addressing Harry. He'd been looking through his Pensieve when he'd been interrupted by Fudge, so had rather carelessly closed the door.

Harry again muttered he was sorry for finding it anyways, while Dumbledore gently said curiosity was not a sin, but it should be used with caution.

"I swear Dumbledore's the only man on earth who wouldn't be at least slightly mad to find a kid snooping through his stuff," Lily smiled.

Harry agreed absently, rubbing at his arm as he wondered if perhaps this wasn't the only time he'd been caught doing this...

Dumbledore was continuing to prod the surface of his object with his wand, and next revealed a plump girl of sixteen, scowling at nothing in here as she went on about someone hexing her to Professor Dumbledore, but she'd only been teasing them about kissing Florence.

Dumbledore whispered to the memory why Bertha had been following them in the first place.

They all felt another harsh twitching feeling at that blunt reminder someone else was dead.

Harry was shocked that was Bertha Jorkins?

Dumbledore agreed as much, he'd been her Headmaster at school.

The surface of the Pensieve was silver and reflective again, as Dumbledore's face hovered over the contents, it first struck Harry how old his headmaster was.

Remus finally cracked and began really laughing again, which felt good when they all joined in after such a heavy chapter. It wasn't even that funny, but it was still better than staying depressed.

Harry knew of course the man was hardly young, but it he had never registered as anything old before now.

Dumbledore caught Harry's attention, prompting him that before he'd got lost in Dumbledore's thoughts,

"There's a sentence you don't hear every day," Sirius kept forcing himself to snicker just a few beats longer.

he'd come up here to tell something?

Harry groaned and slumped back into the couch as once again all humor was swept out of the room, no one wanted to remember this anymore than those bleeding court rooms.

Harry began by saying he'd fallen asleep in Divination, but then stuttered in embarrassment as he wondered if he was going to get told off for that.

"I suppose that's not the best way to start a conversation," James agreed mildly.

Dumbledore merely nodded, saying this was understandable, and please continue.

"Don't ever let me say Dumbledore doesn't have a sense of humor," Sirius shook his head ruefully.

Harry did, beginning with the news that Voldemort had been torturing Wormtail,

Remus barely got that out as an understandable word, but they all knew what he meant as well as Dumbledore did.

and Harry launched into all the details he'd seen, ending with the pain in his scar waking him up.

"We don't usually have to relive the actual experience a second time," Lily muttered bitterly. "I much prefer when the book starts glossing."

"You and me both," Remus sourly agreed.

Dumbledore kept staring, and Harry finished that he was done.

"Round of applause for my dear pup," Sirius nodded ostentatiously, it felt better than swearing death threats for now. "You really know how to finish a grand tale with such extreme fluency."

"Don't ever let Sirius tell you he doesn't have a flare for the dramatics," James muttered at Harry's side, wishing he could put more life into the joke but that wasn't coming for now.

Dumbledore hummed for a moment, before asking Harry if this was the only other one he'd had besides over the summer?

Harry began to agree, before asking in surprise how Dumbledore knew about that one?

"Guess your idea was right Padfoot, you are keeping in contact with Dumbledore," Remus sighed tragically at having to admit his friend was right about anything.

Sirius caught the joke and immediately sprung back with, "so if you're going to admit I was right about that, how about the time-"

James chucked a pillow at him that smacked him right in the face and Remus happily kept going.

Dumbledore pointed out Harry wasn't Sirius' only correspondent, pointing out he'd been keeping track of Sirius since he'd left, and it had been his suggestion Harry's godfather take residence in the caves.

"I'm assuming this would have happened after Sirius had already announced he was back in the area," Lily raised a sharp brow. "Surely Dumbledore would have warned you as much as we did what a stupid idea it is to be back at all."

"You're just so full of love woman," Sirius sighed as he chucked the pillow back at his friend in retaliation. "How do you do it?"

Silence rung for a few heavy minutes before Harry asked if Dumbledore knew why his scar hurt?

Remus heard a choking noise from one of his friends, but he was so eager to hope that Dumbledore would explain he didn't acknowledge who from.

Dumbledore watched Harry thoughtfully before beginning it was only a theory, but his idea was that Harry felt this pain when Voldemort was near him, or had a strong surge of hatred.

Remus felt the book slip from numb fingers as he heard from a long ways off, "but, why!?"

Harry was shaking his head slowly from side to side, an innate buzzing in his ear the only answer he could hear for his mother's desperate question.

"I, just, never heard of anything like this," James pressed a frustrated fist to his temple in his agitation for not having a single reason why this could be happening to his son. It was stupid, but he somehow felt as much of a failure as Crouch for not being able to help out his only child in even one way, to give an actual useful answer to this.

"Don't beat yourself up too much Prongs," Sirius tried for a comforting voice even as he wiggled in place in his spot with nerves. "Harry is the only known person to survive the killing curse, I suppose that would come with ah, well special...I don't even know, that kind of relates to, the monster who did it..." he trailed off as even he couldn't keep trying to put any kind of good spin on this.

"Keep going Remus," Lily tried to wave him on even as he was already flipping back through pages for his spot, "if Dumbledore said that, he may explain more."

Harry asked why, and Dumbledore reminded that wasn't an ordinary scar, he was connected to Voldemort through it.

Remus looked up in exasperation to show that was all they were going to get.

"Oh, gee thanks, tell us what we already worked out," Sirius fumed while James and Harry both slumped in disappointment.

Harry asked if that dream had been real then?

"Sadly nobody was questioning that part," Harry grumbled, though he'd have liked a no for an answer to that the most.

Dumbledore agreed that was more than probable. Then he asked if Harry had actually seen Voldemort?

Harry said no, just the chair he'd been in, but confused as to how he'd held a wand?

"What wand is he even using?" Remus' face squidged up in sudden confusion. "Surely he doesn't still have his own?"

Lily had actually been nursing that question since the first chapter, when first mention of torture had appeared for the rat, but she had no want of speaking it aloud then any more than she wanted to answer now, but there was no sense in ignoring it either. "I've two ideas, neither of which I'm particularly fond of. One, it could be Bertha's, it would have been taken from her when she was captured. Two, his ah, well that-" her face flushed with frustration as she had no idea how to refer to the thing that ruined her life, but they knew what she meant anyways, "stole a wand along the way."

"I can see why you're not fond of the ideas," James said slowly, keeping eyes on his wife instead of closing them and crying again. "But they're good ideas, so give yourself some credit."

"They were my ideas, why wouldn't I get all the credit?" She shot back in a weak attempt at her joshing tone.

"You never would have had such brilliant thinking if not for our influence," James stated, going for as grand a tone as he could. "So you deserve twenty five percent at least."

The couple actually smiled at each other again, it was likely under any other circumstances this would have circled into a full blown tease between the two, while the other three were actually chuckling when Remus kept going.

Dumbledore agreed that was a puzzling thought, how indeed Voldemort had a body.

Harry asked if he was really getting stronger then?

"He's gone from sticking out of the back of a guy's head, to having his own body, so sadly I'm inclined to say yes," Lily seethed, kicking her frustrations on their lack of answers about her boy onto anything and everything mentioning Voldemort.

Dumbledore began by saying this was all his own suspicions, but stated the tale of the first war, how it had all started with disappearances as well. Now this time first Bertha, then Crouch, and one that Dumbledore found just as intriguing but the Ministry was taking no notice of. A Muggle named Frank Bryce had disappeared where Voldemort's father had grown up sometime in August.

"While we all know that to be true," Remus cocked his head to the side, "why is Dumbledore putting Frank Bryce in this?"

"Remember how we thought that place was connected to Voldemort's family, Riddle," Lily reminded, stuttering a bit at the unpleasant reminder. "Well we were right, that was his dad, so it wouldn't surprise me to learn Dumbledore's keeping an eye on the place for any odd instances, and this certainly counts."

Dumbledore looked very seriously at Harry.

"Now I know he can't look anything like me," Sirius painted a smirk in place, never growing tired that Harry got out a laugh every time.

Telling Harry that the Ministry disagreed with all of his findings being linked together, as he may have heard outside this door.

Harry nodded his agreement while he considered leaving, but curiosity kept him in place.

"Right, might as well get all your questions in now," James sighed, at least Dumbledore was marginally answering them. In all honestly it was possibly even unfair to blame Dumbledore on his lack of knowledge on a subject he wanted the answer to so bad.

First he asked of the trial he'd been found in, if the Longbottom family Crouch had spoken of was Neville's parents?

Remus let out every bit of pain in that sigh, what he wouldn't give for at least that answer to be no.

Dumbledore seemed surprised Neville had never mentioned why he was brought up by his grandmother?

"Well that's not something I'd exactly parade around saying," Sirius muttered.

Harry shook his head, kicking himself he'd never once asked his dorm mate in all four years.

"I'd be a little more sharp with you if you had," Lily shook her head, "it's not a polite thing to ask why anybody is living with who they are."

Dumbledore explained that Frank had been an Auror, and he and his wife had been tortured for information regarding the whereabouts of Voldemort.

Harry whispered that they were dead, which Dumbledore denied.

"Wait, what?" They yelped in shock.

Remus ignored them, his mind scattering as he tried to understand what Dumbledore could mean even as he ignored them and his own mind to get the answer.

His voice was full of a bitterness Harry had never heard before.

Lily felt a sharp whimper tearing at the nerves in her throat, already she knew she wasn't going to be able to handle hearing this.

They were now insane.

"I-no they- what?!" Sirius wasn't entirely sure he'd said that in words, but the meaning was clear. How long did someone have to endure the Cruciates to become insane! When they'd heard the actual charges, they'd all just thought the two people had died of pain, which in itself was the definition of horrible, but this!

Remus didn't even want to keep going. He'd heard of some despicable things in his life one person could do to another, but torture to insanity was a new shade even for him. It was getting harder all the time to just keep telling himself it was all okay because it hadn't happened yet. He wasn't nearly as close to Alice and Frank as he was Sirius, and this hurt damn near as much to think about. They were only a few years older than them, why wouldn't these tragedies stop!

Lily's warm hand reached out and traced one of the lingering bruises he'd inflicted on himself to get his attention while whispering, "I know, if I could have them here or have a way to make anything better right now I would, but we've got to get through this to do that."

It was all the comfort she could offer, at least giving the boys something left to keep going.

They were currently housed in a permanent ward at St. Mungo's, Neville was known to visit them with his grandmother on holidays, but they didn't even recognize him.

Harry never would believe he'd actually hear of someone else's parents, and actually think they were worse off than him, but this did it. He may have never met his parents, and he'd never actually thought of them dying protecting him as a good thing, but it was certainly some comfort to his life to at least know they cared. Neville had to look them in the face, and not even be recognized? He couldn't imagine a worse curse as he gazed at his own.

Harry sat there, horror-struck. He had never known . . . never, in four years, bothered to find out. . .

Harry half wished he didn't know now, how could he ever say anything to Neville about it. Anything like the word sorry would just feel meaningless in light of something like this.

Dumbledore continued saying how popular the Longbottom's had been socially, the capture of the people who had done it put a lot of strain on the Ministry. The Longbottom's had not been able to give their own testimony do to their condition.

Harry asked if Crouch's son had really been a part of that?

Harry felt a dark swirl of emotions clouding his mind, one that he had no want at all to look at. Whatever the true answer to that question was his mind was trying to show him, it wouldn't make what had happened any better.

Dumbledore had no idea for that answer.

Harry still had two questions lingering in his mind, but they involved two living people, so he was hesitant to ask about for Bagman- which Dumbledore quickly said was never accused of any Dark crimes again.

"There, was that so hard to actually duel out good news for once," Sirius muttered under his breath for his ears alone, he really didn't think he could force another joke now without biting off his tongue.

His mind lingered on his last question as he eyed the Pensieve for thought, but it seemed to be asking his question for him.

"That can happen," Remus answered at once, not caring if Harry had been fixing to ask or not, he just needed to babble for a moment. "Pensieves are magical objects that are very likely to pick up on your train of thought and try to offer up its contents to help, hence why Dumbledore said they were so useful in finding patterns, sometimes the object itself helps you out."

The others watched patiently until he'd babbled himself into silence and forced himself to continue.

Snape's face was again at the surface, and Dumbledore added on Snape was never looked at again.

"The moment I buy that, I'll eat Hickory," James scoffed.

"Don't drag my cat into this," Lily scolded absently, her mind wanting to hover on that more than anyone, yet she was just as tired and ready for this chapter to be over as the boys. They'd just had a break at the beginning of this one, but it was already getting so tiring she was considering calling it quits for the night.

Harry kept watching Dumbledore in hopes for more, but when none came Harry asked what had made Dumbledore believe Snape wasn't on Voldemort's side?

Dumbledore didn't hesitate to say that was between him and his Professor.

All four boys scoffed in disbelief and annoyance at Harry being withheld that answer, only Lily not able to feel any bad for it. While she truly did want to know, more than all of them put together most likely, she also respected that was true and not entirely their place.

Harry considered himself dismissed and got up to leave, but Dumbledore gave one last word of caution, not to go discussing the events of Neville's parents to anyone.

"I wouldn't have!" Harry said indignantly at once. "That's private, I've had enough of people's private stuff going around."

"Not even Ron and Hermione?" James asked softly, as he thought that's what Dumbledore had really meant.

Harry deflated at that, opened then closed his mouth, and didn't respond. In truth he didn't want to tell his friends this, but he could also see himself wanting to share it with them just to get the image off his own chest a bit. Now with Dumbledore's warning in mind, Harry was entirely certain he wouldn't even do that.

Harry promised he wouldn't, but as his hand was on the door to leave, Dumbledore added one last thing, good luck with his final task.

"Oh thank you for that lovely reminder," Lily scowled hatefully as she took the book, wondering what the odds were she'd get skipped on that.

HPHPHPHPHP

I really don't like touchy feely emotional scenes, and they crop up a lot, and I don't really think I'm good at them because they all feel forced and phoned in when I'm editing them, and I apologize for that. Hope you like the rest of the chapter...

For those of you who were hoping I'd slip in a Dr. Who joke this chapter regarding Jr., sorry, I don't watch the show, so not only am I really scarce on material, but it's also a really emotional and bad time for a joke in general.

* Love the head canon maana999 offered about it being Newt Scamander to have given Dumbledore Fawkes in thanks for sticking up for him, but I doubt I'll be able to work it into this fic since no one knows Newt.

*I found some really conflicting answers on this, some reports say up to eight hundred, some only go up to two, which is why my answer's so vague. Even JK is at it again with her own conflicting math, saying one time Dumbledore was 150, but another saying he was born in 1881 so he would have died at either 115, or 116. Though to be fair, he was either to be murdered or killed by that ring, so maybe she meant to say he could have lived to be 150...If ever I find something more definitive I'll either slip it in in the future or go back and correct this.

#The Life That Never Lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #Marauders #James Potter #remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter #HP

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oikirstein · 4 years ago

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Scene:A neighbourhood on a street called Privet Drive. An owl, sitting on the street sign flies off to reveal a mysterious appearing old man walking through a forest near the street. He stops at the start of the street and takes out a mechanical device and zaps all the light out of the lampposts. He puts away the device and a cat meows. The man, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, looks down at the cat, which is a tabby and is sitting on a brick ledge.Dumbledore: I should have known that you would be here...Professor McGonagall.The cat meows, sniffs out and the camera pans back to a wall. The cats shadow is seen progressing into a human. There are footsteps and MINERVA MCGONAGALL is revealed.McGonagall: Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Are the rumours true, Albus?Dumbledore: I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad.McGonagall: And the boy?Dumbledore: Hagrid is bringing him.McGonagall: Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?Albus: Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life.There is a motor sound, and the two professors look up to see a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skids on the street and halts. A large man, RUBEUS HAGRID, takes off his goggles.Hagrid: Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Professor McGonagall.Dumbledore: No problems, I trust, Hagrid?Hagrid: No, sir. Little tyke fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Heh. Try not to wake him. There you go.Hagrid hands a baby in a blanket over to Dumbledore.McGonagall: Albus, do you really think its safe, leaving him with these people? I've been watching them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They really areDumbledore: The only family he has.They stop outside a house.McGonagall: This boy will be famous. There wont be a child in our world who doesn't know his name.Dumbledore: Exactly. He's better off growing up away from all that. Until he is ready.Hagrid coughs and sniffles, he is crying. He clears his throat.Dumbledore: There, there, Hagrid. It's not really good-bye, after all.Hagrid nods. Dumbledore takes a letter and places it on the baby, who is now at the foot of the door. The baby has a visible lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.Dumbledore: Good luck...Harry Potter.The camera pans into the scar and the opening title shows:HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE

Almost ten years after the: DURSLEY's home. The camera pans on a sleeping boy, almost eleven, with a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

There is a click, and knocking. Outside, a tall woman, PETUNIA DURSLEY, raps the door.

Petunia: Up. Get up. {Knocks} {sighs} Now! {Smacks door of closet which is the boys bedroom}

A large, tubby boy, DUDLEY DURSLEY, suddenly comes running down the stairs above the closet. He stops half-way down and goes back, jumping on the staircase.

Dudley: Wake up, cousin! We're going to the zoo!

Dudley laughs, comes down the stairs and runs for the kitchen. The boy, HARRY POTTER, tries to come out of the closet, but is pushed back in by Dudley.

Petunia is in the kitchen, where Dudley has gone.

Petunia: Oh, here he comes, the birthday boy!

A larger man, VERNON DURSLEY, is sitting at the kitchen table.

Vernon: Happy birthday, son.

Petunia and Dudley giggle together. Harry comes into the kitchen, dressed in rags.

Petunia: Why don't you just cook the breakfast, and try not to burn anything.

Harry: Yes, Aunt Petunia.

He sets to work.

Petunia: I want everything to be perfect for my Dudley's special day.

Vernon: Hurry up! Bring my coffee, boy!

Harry: Yes, Uncle Vernon.

Petunia leads Dudley over to the family room, where there are a vast amount of presents. Dudley stares.

Dudley: How many are there?

Vernon: Thirty-six. Counted 'em myself.

Dudley: Thirty-six?! But last year last year I got thirty-seven!!

Vernon: Yes, well, some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year!

Dudley: I don't care how big they are!

Petunia: Oh, now, now, now. This is what we're going to do, is that when we go out we're going to buy you two new presents! How's that, Pumpkin?

Scene:

Outside, morning. The happy family is heading to the car. Harry goes to get in but is stopped by Vernon.

Petunia: This will be a lovely day at the zoo. I'm really looking forward to it.

Vernon: I'm warning you now, boy. Any funny business, any at all, and you won't have any meals for a week. Get in.

Scene:

The zoo. The family is in the reptile house, looking at a large BOA CONSTRICTOR.

Dudley: Make it move.

Vernon raps the glass of the cage.

Vernon: Move!

Dudley raps the glass much harder, and Vernon winces.

Dudley: MOVE!

Harry: He's asleep!

Dudley: He's boring.

Dudley and his parents retreat to another enclosure. Harry is left with the snake.

Harry: Sorry about him. He doesn't understand what it's like, lying there day after day, having people press their ugly faces in on you.

The snake looks up and blinks.

Harry: Can you...hear me? {The snake nods} It's just...I've never talked to a snake before. Do you...I mean...do you talk to people often? {The snake shakes its head} You're from Burma, aren't you? Was it nice there, do you miss your family? {The snake turns its head in the direction of a sign which says, Bred in Captivity} I see. That's me as well. I never knew my parents, either.

The now awake snake has attracted Dudley's attention. He rips over to the cage, knocking Harry to the floor.

Dudley: Mummy, dad, come here! You won't believe what this snake is doing!!

Dudley puts his hands on the glass wall. Harry, from the ground, glares at him. Suddenly, the glass disappears. Dudley wretches forward.

Dudley: Whoa! Ahh! Ahh!!

Dudley falls into the snake enclosure, sputtering in a pool of water. The snake gets out of the exhibit, stopping in front of Harry.

Snake: Thankssssssss.

Harry: Anytime.

The snake starts off.

Man: SNAKE!

There is a lot of screaming as the snake heads for freedom. Dudley gets up to get out, but the glass is now back over the enclosure. He is stuck. He pounds the glass.

Dudley: Mum, mummy!

Petunia: {Sees him} AHH!

Dudley: Mum, help! Help me!

Petunia: My darling boy! How did you get in there?!

Harry: {Grins and giggles}

Vernon glares down at him and Harry's grin disappears. Petunia continues screaming: How did you get in there? Dursley, oh, Dursley!

Scene:

Back at the Dursley's. Petunia and a bundled up Dudley come in.

Petunia: It's all right. It's all right.

They disappear around the corner. Harry and Vernon enter. Vernon slams the door and shoves Harry against a wall, taking his hair.

Harry: Ow!

Vernon: What happened?

Harry: I swear I don't know! One minute the glass was there and then it was gone! It was like magic!

Vernon: {Scoffs and shoves Harry into the closet} There's no such thing as magic!

Scene:

Outside, some time later. An owl flies by the house and drops a letter, which zooms in the letterbox. It lands away from the house and hoots.

Harry, inside, goes to collect the mail. He sorts through the letters and sees his, addressed to him. He goes into the kitchen, hands Vernon the rest of the mail, and walks around the other side of the table to see his letter.

Vernon: Ah, Marge is ill. Ate a funny whelk.

Dudley: {Sees Harrys letter. He runs and grabs it} Dad, look! Harry's got a letter!!

Harry: Hey, give it back! It's mine!

Vernon: {Laughs} Yours? Who'd be writing to you?

The family gathers to look at the address. There is a broken seal on the letter. The family looks up and Harry gulps.

Scene:

Another owl flies by with a letter and drops it off. Inside, Vernon grabs a handful of letters and rips them up.

In the closet, Harry hears a whirring noise. He looks out at Vernon drilling wood over the letterbox opening.

Vernon: No more mail through this letterbox.

Scene:

Outside, Vernon and Petunia appear. Vernon is about to head off to work. Petunia kisses his cheek.

Petunia: Have a lovely day at the office, dear.

She stops, looks and sees a bunch of owls.

Vernon: Shoo! Go on!

Scene:

Inside. Vernon is tossing letters into the fireplace. Harry comes around the corner. Vernon grins evilly and tosses more in.

Scene:

Living/Family room. The family is sitting around, Harry is serving cookies.

Vernon: Fine day Sunday. In my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley?

Dudley shrugs.

Harry: {Hands cookie to Vernon} Because there's no post on Sunday? Ah, right you are, Harry. No post on Sunday. Hah! No blasted letters today. No, sir. {Harry sees a shadow outside the window. Outside, millions of owls are perched.} No sir, not one blasted, miserable---

A letter shoots out of the fireplace and zips across Vernons face. There is a rumbling and then zillions of letters come shooting out of the fireplace.

Dudley: AHH! Make it stop! Please make it stop! {He jumps on Petunias lap}

Petunia and Vernon: {Screaming}

Vernon: Go away, ahh!

Dudley: What is it? Please tell me what's happening!

Harry jumps onto the coffee table to grab a letter. He gets one and starts to run away. Vernon jumps up as well.

Vernon: Give me that! Give me that letter!

He chases Harry and grabs him before Harry gets into his closet.

Harry: Get off! Ahh!

Vernon: Ahh!

Harry: They're my letters! Let go of me!

Vernon: That's it! We're going away! Far away! Where they can't find us!

Dudley: Daddy's gone mad, hasnt he?!

Scene:

A house, on a rock island somewhere out at sea. The family is sleeping, with Harry on the cold, dirt floor. He has drawn a birthday cake which reads, Happy Birthday Harry. Harry looks at Dudley's watch, which beeps 12:00.

Harry: Make a wish, Harry. {Blows}

Suddenly, the door thumps. Harry jumps. The door thumps again and Dudley and Harry jump up and back away. Petunia and Vernon appear, Vernon with a gun. The door bangs again and then cracks open, and a giant man appears.

Vernon: Who's there? Ahh!

Hagrid: Sorry 'bout that. {He puts the door back up}

Vernon: I demand that you leave at once, Sir! You are breaking and entering!

Petunia: Ooh.

Hagrid comes over, grabs the gun and bends it upwards.

Hagrid: Dry up, Dursley, you great prune. {The gun fires}

All: Ahh!

Hagrid: {sees Dudley} Mind, I haven't seen you since you was a baby, Harry, but you're a bit more along than I would have expected. Particularly 'round the middle!

Dudley: I-I-I'm not Harry.

Harry appears: I-I am.

Hagrid: Oh, well, of course you are! Got something for ya. 'Fraid I might have sat on it at some point! I imagine that it'll taste fine just the same. Ahh. Baked it myself. {Hands Harry the cake} Words and all. Heh.

Harry: Thank you! {Opens cake, which reads: Happee Birdae Harry.}

Hagrid: It's not every day that your young man turns eleven, now is it?

Hagrid sits down on the couch, takes out an umbrella and points it at the empty fire. Poof, poof! Two sparks fly out and the fire starts. The family gapes.

Harry: {puts cake down} Excuse me, who are you?

Hagrid: Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Course, you'll know all about Hogwarts.

Harry: Sorry, no.

Hagrid: No? Blimey, Harry, didn't you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?

Harry: Learnt what?

Hagrid: You're a wizard, Harry.

Harry: I-I'm a what?

Harry: A wizard. And a thumping good one at that, I'd wager. Once you train up a little.

Harry: No, you've made a mistake. I can't be...a-a wizard. I mean, I'm just... Harry. Just Harry.

Hagrid: Well, Just Harry, did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn't explain when you were angry or scared? {Harry softens his expression} Ah.

Dudley: {whimpers}

Hagrid hands Harry the same letter that has been sent the past while. Harry opens it.

Harry: Dear, Mr. Potter. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

Vernon: Hell not be going! We swore when we took him in wed put an end to this rubbish!

Harry: You knew?? You knew all along and you never told me?

Petunia: Of course we knew. How could you not be? My perfect sister being who she was. Oh, my mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter. We have a witch in the family. Isn't it wonderful? I was the only one to see her for what she was. A freak! And then she met that Potter, and then she had you, and I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as ... abnormal. And then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up! And we got landed with you.

Harry: Blown up? You told me my parents died in a car crash!

Hagrid: A car crash? A car crash kill James and Lily Potter?

Petunia: We had to tell him something.

Hagrid: It's an outrage! It's a scandal!

Vernon: He'll not be going!

Hagrid: Oh, and I suppose a great Muggle like yourself's going to stop him, are you?

Harry: Muggle?

Hagrid: Non magic folk. This boy's had his name down ever since he was born! He's going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, and he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts' has ever seen: Albus Dumbledore.

Vernon: I will not pay for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!

Hagrid: {whips out umbrella and points it at Vernon} Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me.

Hagrid sees Dudley eating Harry's cake, and points the umbrella at his rear. A grey tail grows.

Dudley: Ahh!

All: Ahh! {family chases Dudley}

Harry: {laughs}

Hagrid: Oh, um, I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone at Hogwarts about that. Strictly speaking, I'm not allowed to do magic.

Harry: {Nods} Okay.

Hagrid: {checks a clock} Ooh, we're a bit behind schedule. Best be off. Unless you'd rather stay, of course. Hmm? {Leaves}

Harry grins, looks back, and grins again.

Scene:

Streets of London. Hagrid and Harry are walking.

Harry: All students must be equipped with...one standard size two pewter cauldron and may bring if they desire either an owl, a cat or a toad. Can we find all this in London?

Hagrid: If you know where to go.

They go to a corner store and enter, The Leaky Cauldron.

{Music and talking}

Barkeep Tom: Ah, Hagrid! The usual, I presume?

Hagrid: No thanks, Tom. I'm on official Hogwarts business today. Just helping young Harry here buy his school supplies.

Tom: Bless my soul. It's Harry Potter.

The pub goes silent. A man comes up and shakes Harrys hand.

Man: Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back.

A witch comes up and shakes Harrys hand, as well.

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

A man in robes with a turban on his head appears. It is PROFESSOR QUIRRELL.

Quirrell: Harry P-potter. C-can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you.

Hagrid: Hello, Professor. I didn't see you there. Harry, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.

Harry: Oh, nice to meet you. {Puts out hand. Quirrell refuses}

Quirrell: F-fearfully fascinating subject. N-not that you need it, e-eh, Potter? Heheh.

Hagrid: Yes, well, must be going now. Lots to buy. Heh.

Harry: Good-bye.

The two leave into a back room winery in front of a brick wall.

Hagrid: See, Harry, you're famous!

Harry: But why am I famous, Hagrid? All those people back there, how is it they know who I am?

Hagrid: I'm not exactly sure I'm the right person to tell you that, Harry. {Taps the brick wall clockwise with his umbrella. The blocks shift and open up to reveal a hidden, busy street.}

Welcome, Harry, to Diagon Alley.

Harry grins broadly as they step into the street and walk down it. An owl screeches.

Hagrid: Here's where you'll get your quills and ink, and over there all your bits and bobs for doing your wizardry.

Harry is amazed as they pass by shops and owls and bats. The camera pans on a broom store, where a group of boys are crowded around a shiny broom.

Boy: It's a world class racing broom. Look at it, its the new Nimbus 2000! It's the fastest model yet.

Harry: But, Hagrid, how am I to pay for all this? I haven't any money.

Hagrid: Well there's your money, Harry. Gringotts, the Wizard Bank. T'aint no place safer, 'cept perhaps Hogwarts.

Inside the bank, they walk down the shiny aisle, passing tiny creatures working.

Harry: Uh, Hagrid, what exactly are those things?

Hagrid: They're goblins, Harry. Clever as they come goblins but not the most friendly of beasts. Best stick close to me. {Harry sticks to him.} {Hagrid clears his throat as they approach a counter with a goblin in it.} Mr. Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal.

The goblin looks up.

Goblin: And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?

Hagrid: Oh. Wait a minute. Got it here somewhere. Hah. Here's the little devil. Oh, and there's something else as well. Professor Dumbledore gave me this. It's about you-know-what in vault you-know-which. {Hands Goblin letter wrapped in string.}

Goblin: Very well.

Scene:

Racing down the depth caverns in a cartlike structure. The cart stops, a goblin, GRIPHOOK, clambers out.

Griphook: Vault 687. Lamp, please. {Hagrid hands him the lamp and he walks to the vault} Key please. {Hagrid hands him the key and he unlocks it}

The room is filled nearly top to bottom with coins. Harry is amazed.

Hagrid: Didn't think your mum and dad would leave you with nothing, now didja?

They continue on through the cavern.

Griphook: Vault 713.

Harry: What's in there, Hagrid?

Hagrid: Can't tell you, Harry. It's Hogwarts business. Very secret.

Griphook: Stand back. {Slides finger down the door. Clank. Clank. The vault opens to expose a small white stone package. Hagrid hurries in and scoops it up. The eerie light it was shining with disappears.}

Hagrid: Best not mention this to anyone, Harry.

Harry nods.

Scene: Outside in the street, walking.

Harry: I still need...a wand.

Hagrid: A wand? Well, you'll want Ollivanders. No place better. Run along there, but wait. I just got one more thing I got to do. Won't be long.

Harry goes into the store, quietly. He looks around. There are shelves of wands, but no people.

Harry: {Softly} Hello? Hello?

There is a thunk. A man appears on a ladder and looks at Harry. He smiles.

Ollivander: I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. {Picks a wand} Ah. Here we are. {Harry holds it but just stands} Well, give it a wave.

Harry: Oh! {waves. All the shelves come crashing down. Harry jumps and hurriedly puts the wand back on the counter.}

Ollivander: Apparently not. {Gets another wand.} Perhaps this. {Harry waves at a vase, which blows apart.} No, no, definitely not! No matter...{gets a wand} I wonder. {Hands wand to Harry. Harry glows under it.} Curious, very curious.

Harry: Sorry, but what's curious?

Ollivander: I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave one other feather, just one. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar. {Points to scar}

Harry: And...who owned that wand?

Ollivander: Oh, we do not speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It's not always clear why, but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things...terrible, yes, but great. {Hands Harry his wand.}

There is a knock on the window.

Hagrid: Harry! Harry! Happy birthday! {Has a snowy owl in a cage which hoots.}

Harry: Wow.

Scene: Later, eating supper. The two, Hagrid and Harry, are at a long table, eating soup.

Hagrid: You all right, Harry? You seem very quiet.

Harry: He killed my parents, didn't he? The one who gave me this. You know, Hagrid, I know you do.

Hagrid: {Sighs and pushes bowl away} First, and understand this, Harry, 'cause it's very important. Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago there was one wizard who went as bad as you can go. And his name was V-...his name was V-...

Harry: Maybe if you wrote it down?

Hagrid: No, I can't spell it. All right. His name was Voldemort.

Harry: Voldemort?

Hagrid: Shh!!

{Harry looks around}

A flashback ensues, consisting off a cloaked man walking towards a house, breaking in with his wand, and proceeding to terrorize. Hagrid narrates.

Hagrid: It was dark times, Harry, dark times. Voldemort started to gather some followers, brought 'em over to the dark side. Anyone that stood up to him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him, but nobody lived once he decided to kill 'em. {Harrys mother, LILY, screams as she is killed by Voldemorts wand} Nobody...not one. Except you. {close-up of baby Harry.}

Harry: Me? Voldemort tried to kill...me?

Hagrid: Yes. That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead, Harry. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse...and an evil curse at that.

Harry: What happened to Vo-...to You-Know-Who?

Hagrid: Some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's out there, still, too tired to go on. But one thing's absolutely certain. Something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous, Harry. That's why everbody knows your name. You're the boy who lived.

Scene: London Train Station. Up on a crossing bridge, Harry (with cart and owl) walk beside Hagrid.A couple look at Hagrid.Hagrid: What're you looking at? {Looks at watch} Blimey, is that the time?? Sorry, Harry, I'm gonna have to leave you. Dumbledore'll be wanting his...well, he'll be wanting to see me. Now, uh, your train leaves in 10 minutes. Here's your ticket. Stick to it, Harry that's very important. Stick to your ticket.Harry looks at his golden ticket.Harry: Platform 9 ¾? But Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This says Platform 9 ¾. There's no such thing...is there? {Harry looks up and Hagrid has vanished.}Scene: Harry is walking down lane between trains. A man rushes by.Man: Sorry.Harry sees a train master.Harry: Excuse me, excuse me.Trainmaster: {talking to woman and child} Right on your left, ma'am.Harry: Excuse me, Sir. Can you tell me where I might find Platform 9 ¾?Trainmaster: 9 ¾? Think youre being funny, do ya? {Leaves}A woman, daughter, and four boys walk by, pushing carts.Mrs. Weasley: It's the same year after year. Always packed with Muggles, of course.Harry: Muggles?Mrs. Weasley: Come on. Platform 9 ¾ this way! All right, Percy, you first.A tall boy with red hair comes forward and runs towards a brick wall. Amazingly, he disappears right into it. Harry is amazed.Mrs. Weasley: Fred, you next.George: He's not Fred, I am!Fred: Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother!Mrs. Weasley: Oh, I'm sorry, George.Fred: I'm only joking. I am Fred. {He runs through the wall, and is followed by his twin brother.}Harry shakes his head in disbelief.Harry: Excuse me! C-could you tell me how toMrs. Weasley: How to get on the platform? Yes, not to worry, dear. It's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well. {pan to a red haired boy who smiles} Now, all you've got to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Best do it at a bit of a run if youre nervous.Ginny (daughter): Good luck.Harry takes a breath and runs at the wall. He shuts his eyes and emerges on the other side a magnificent station with a red train and bundles of people. A whistle blows, and Harry sighs with relief.Scene: The train is traveling through unknown country. Pan to inside compartment, where Harry is sitting. The red headed boy, RON, appears, dirt on his nose.Ron: Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else is full.Harry: No, not at all.Ron: {sits across from Harry} I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.Harry: I'm Harry. Harry Potter.{Ron goes agape.}Ron: So-so it's true?! I mean, do you really have the...the...Harry: The what?Ron: {whispers} Scar...?Harry: Oh, yeah. {lifts up hair}Ron: Wicked.A trolley comes by the compartment, full of sweets.Woman: Anything off the trolley, dears?Ron: {Holds up mushed sandwiches} No, thanks, I'm all set. {smacks lips.}Harry: {pulls out coins} We'll take the lot!Ron: Whoa!Scene: Eating bundles of sweets.Ron's rat, Scabbers, is perched on Ron's knee, a box over its head.Harry: Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?Ron: They mean every flavour! There's chocolate and peppermint, and there's also spinach, liver and tripe. George sweared he got a bogey-flavoured one once!Harry quickly takes the bean he was chewing out of his mouth.Harry: {picks up blue and gold package} These aren't real chocolate frogs, are they?Ron: It's only a spell. Besides, it's the cards you want. Each pack's got a famous witch or wizard. I got about 500 meself.Frog: Ribbit. {The frog jumps onto the window and climbs up, then leaps out the window...disappearing.}Ron: Oh, that's rotten luck. They've only got one good jump in them to begin with.Harry: Hey, I got Dumbledore!Ron: I got about 6 of him.Harry: Hey, he's gone!Ron: Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day, can you? {Scabbers squeaks} This is Scabbers, by the way, pitiful, isn't he?Harry: Just a little bit.Ron: Fred gave me a spell as to turn him yellow. Want to see?Harry: Yeah!Ron: {clears throat} Ahem. Sun-A girl, HERMIONE GRANGER, with bushy brown hair appears at the doorway.Hermione: Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one.Ron: No.Hermione: Oh, are you doing

magic? Let's see then.Ron: Aghhhemm. Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!{Zap. Nothing happens. Ron shrugs.}Hermione: Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me. For example...{Hermione goes over and sits across from Harry. He points her hand at his glasses and Harry tenses} Oculus Reparo. {The glasses, which noseband is battered, are repaired. Harry takes them off, amazed.} That's better, isn't it? Holy Cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger...and you are...?Ron: {full mouth} I'm...Ron Weasley.Hermione: Pleasure. You two better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon. {Gets up and leaves, then comes back and looks at Ron.} You've got dirt, on your nose, by the way, did you know? Just there. {Points} {Ron scratches his nose, embarrassed.}Scene: Darkness, the train blows its whistle and pulls into an outdoor station. Hagrid walks along the side aisle, with a lantern. People begin pouring out of the train.Hagrid: Right, then! First years! This way, please! Come on, now, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!Harry and Ron walk up to Hagrid.Hagrid: Hello, Harry.Harry: Hey, Hagrid.Ron: Whoaa!Hagrid: Right then. This way to the boats! Come on, now, follow me.Scene:A number of boats are plugging across a vast lake, where up ahead a huge castle can be seen. People are in awe.Ron: Wicked.Scene: On a higher level, Professor McGonagall is waiting. She raps her fingers on a stone railing, and then goes to the top of the stairs to greet the newcomers.McGonagall: Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cupNEVILLE LONGBOTTOM, a scared looking boy, spots his toad sitting near McGonagall. He jumps forward.Neville: Trevor! {McGonagall stares down at him} Sorry. {He backs away.}McGonagall: The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily. {leaves}DRACO MALFOY, a slicked back evil looking boy speaks up.Draco: It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. {Students whisper, Harry Potter?} This is Crabbe, and Goyle {nods to thugs} and I'm Malfoy...Draco Malfoy. {Ron snickers at his name} Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. Well soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. Dont want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. {extends hand.}Harry: I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.Draco glares. McGonagall returns and smacks him on the shoulder with a paper. He retreats with one last glare.McGonagall: We're ready for you now.She leads everyone through two large doors and into the Great Hall, where there are four long tables with many kids, as well as floating candles. The roof appears to be the sky.Hermione: It's not real, the ceiling. It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.McGonagall: All right, will you wait along here, please? Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbldedore would like to say a few words.Dumbledore rises from the main table.Dumbledore: I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch {signals to ragged old man with a cat with red eyes} has asked me to remind you that the 3rd floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.McGonagall: When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will

be sorted into your houses. Hermione Granger.Hermione: Oh, no. Okay, relax. {She goes up}Ron: Mental that one, I'm telling you.Harry nods in agreement.Sorting Hat: Ah, right then...hmm...right. Okay...Gryffindor!!(Cheering)Hermione jumps off with a smile.McGonagall: Draco Malfoy.Draco saunters up proudly. The tattered hat nearly freaks before touching down on Dracos head.Sorting Hat: SLYTHERIN!Ron: There isn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasnt in Slytherin.McGonagall: Susan Bones.A small, redhead goes up.Harry looks around and spots a black haired, pale teacher, SEVERUS SNAPE, looking at him. His scar hurts.Harry: Ahh! {puts hand on forehead}Ron: Harry, what is it?Harry: Nothing...it's nothing, I'm fine.Sorting Hat: Let's see...I know...Hufflepuff!McGonagall: Ronald Weasley.Ron gulps and walks up. He sits down and the hat is put on.Sorting Hat: Ah! Another Weasley. I know just where to put you...Gryffindor!!Ron: {Sighs}(Cheering)McGonagall: Harry Potter.Everything goes silent. Harry walks up and sits down.Sorting Hat: Hmm...difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see, not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?Harry: {whispers} Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.Sorting Hat: Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. Its all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness! There's no doubt about that! No? {Harry whispers: Not Slytherin...anything but Slytherin} Well, if youre sure...better be...GRYFFINDOR!!There is an immense cheering and Harry goes to the Gryffindor table.Fred and George are also there, and cheer: We got Potter! We got Potter! Harry sits down.McGonagall: {dings on a cup} Your attention, please.Dumbledore: Let the feast...begin.Food magically appears on all the tables, and the hall is filled with awe and chatter.Harry: Wow.Draco looks at all the food, raises his eyebrows and digs in.Ron stuffs his face.SEAMUS FINNIGAN, a tiny boy, speaks.Seamus: I'm half and half. Me dad's a Muggle. Mam's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out.Neville laughs.Harry is sitting next to Percy. He leans over.Harry: Say, Percy, who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?Percy: Oh, that's Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house.Harry: What's he teach?Percy: Potions. But everyone knows it's the Dark Arts he fancies. He's been after Quirrells job for years.Ron, having just finished a chicken wing, reaches into the bowl for more, and a ghostly head, SIR NICHOLAS, pops out.Ron: Ahh!Nick: Hello! How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor.Numerous ghosts come pouring from the walls, sailing along.Hufflepuff ghost: Whoo-hoo-hoo!Girl: Look, its the Bloody Baron!Percy: Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?Nick: Dismal. Once again, my request to join the headless hunt has been denied. {Begins to leave}Ron: Hey, I know you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!Nick: I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind.Hermione: Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?Nick: Like this. {Grabs head and pulls it to the side. His head is hanging on just by a thread.}Ron: Ahh!Hermione: Eugh.Scene:Percy is leading the Gryffindors to the staircases.Percy: Gryffindors, follow me please. Keep up. Thank you.Boy: Ravenclaw, follow me. This way.Percy: This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases...they like to change.The camera pans up and we see a vast amount of staircases, people walking on them, and some switching places.Percy: Keep up, please, and follow me. Quickly now, come on. Come on. {They begin walking up the stairs}Neville: Seamus, that picture's moving!Ron: Look at that one, Harry!Harry: I think she fancies you.Girl: Oh, look! Look! Who's that girl?Man in painting: Welcome to Hogwarts.Girl: Who's that?Scene:Approaching the Gryffindor dorms. They come up to a large painting of a large woman in a pink dress.Woman: Password? Percy: Caput Draconis. {The woman nods and the painting opens to reveal a gape in the wall.} Follow me, everyone. Keep up, quickly, come on.Girl: Oh, wow.Percy:

{Inside common room} Gather 'round here. Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room. Boys' dormitories, upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find that your belongings have already been brought up.Scene: Mid-night. Harry is sitting by a window in his pj's, with his owl, Hedwig. He pets the owl and looks out the window, sighing with content.

Scene: Morning. Harry and Ron are running through the stone halls to their class. They rush in. In the class, a tabby cat is sitting on a desk.Ron: Whew, amazing, can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?The cat jumps off the desk and turns into Professor McGonagall. The two boys are amazed.Ron: That was bloody brilliant.McGonagall: Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Maybe if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocketwatch, maybe one of you would be on time.Harry: We got lost.McGonagall: Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats.Scene: Snape's potions class. The students are chattering, sitting near steaming cauldrons. The door slams open and Snape comes rushing in.Snape: There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few {looks at Draco, who smiles}, who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper {Draco looks on} in death. {Draco raises his eyebrows.} {Snape sees Harry, writing this down, in, his view, not paying attention.} Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention.Hermione nudges Harry in the ribs. He looks up.Snape: Mr. Potter. Our...new...celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? {Hermione's hand skyrockets. Harry shrugs.} You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar? {Hermione's hand shoots up again.}Harry: I don't know, Sir.Snape: And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?Harry: I don't know, Sir.Snape: Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?Scene: In the great hall, probably midday. The students are all working on homework.Seamus is trying a spell on a cup.Seamus: Eye of rabbit, harp string hum. Turn this water, into rum. {Looks in cup and shakes head.} Eye of rabbit, harp string hum...Harry: What's Seamus trying to do to that glass of water?Ron: Turn it into rum. Actually managed a weak tea yesterday, before...ZAPOOF! The cup explodes. There is laughter amongst the students. Suddenly, a flock of owls start coming into the hall from the rafters above.Ron: Ah. Mail's here!The owls soar by, dropping parcels to students. Harry gets nothing. He sees the newspaper Ron has put down.Harry: Can I borrow this? {Ron nods} Thanks.Neville is unwrapping a gift. It is a clear ball with gold around it.Seamus: Hey, look! Neville's got a Remembrall!Hermione: I've read about those. When the smoke turns red {the smoke turns red}, it means you've forgotten something.Neville: The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten.Harry: Hey, Ron, somebody broke into Gringotts. Listen, Believed to be the work of dark witches or wizards unknown, Gringotts goblins, while acknowledging the breach, insist that nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. That's odd. That's the vault Hagrid and I went to.Scene: Outside, flying practice. The students, Gryffindor and Slytherin, are lined up in two rows with brooms by their sides. The teacher, MADAM HOOCH, comes down the line. She has short hair and hawk yellow eyes.Hooch: Good afternoon, class.Class: Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.Hooch: Good afternoon, Amanda, good afternoon. {to class} Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, Up!Class: Up!Harry's broom flies into his hand.Harry: Whoa. {Hermione stares as the class continues.}Draco: Up! {broomstick flies up and Draco smugly grins.}Hooch: With feeling!Hermione: Up. Up. Up. Up.Ron: Up!! {His broom flies up and conks him on the nose} Ow!

{Harry laughs} Shut up, Harry. {laughs}Hooch: Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end. {Class mounts} When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle...3...2...{tweet!}Neville immediately lifts off. He looks quite frightened.Neville: Oh...Hooch: Mr. Longbottom.Girl: Neville, what are you doing?Students: Neville...Neville...Boy: We're not supposed to take off, yet.Hooch: {Neville begins soaring away} M-M-Mr. Longbottom Mr. Longbottom!Neville: AHH! Hooch: Mr. Longbottom!Neville: {soars away} Down! Down! Ahhhh!Harry: Neville! {shouting}Neville: Help!!!Hooch: Come back down this instant!Neville: AHH!He soars through the sky and hits a wall, conking along it and then swooping off. All the while, he is screaming. He begins to zoom back towards the group of students. Hooch holds out her wand to stop him.Neville: Help!Hooch: Mr. Longbottom! {Neville approaches. The students scatter and Hooch dives out of the way. Neville goes through the scatter and up a tower.}Neville: Ahhhh! Whoa! Ahhh! {zooms past a statue of a man with a sharp spear. Neville's cloak catches on it. He is flipped off the broom and hangs there.} Oh. Ah...help! {He wavers, then the cloak rips, and he falls, catching on a torch, but then slipping out and falling to the ground.} Ahh!Hooch: Everyone out of the way! {She runs through the group, and they scatter.} Come on, get up.Girl: Is he alright?Neville: Owowowow.Hooch: Oh, oh, oh, oh dear. It's a broken wrist. Tch, tch, tch. Good boy, come on now, up you get. {Draco reaches down and grabs Neville's Remembrall, which has fallen. Hooch begins to lead Neville away with her.} Everyone's to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say, Quidditch. {Exit.}Draco: {snickers} Did you see his face? Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat ass. {Laughs.}Harry: Give it here, Malfoy.Draco: No. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. {hops on broom and soars around group, then through.} How 'bout up on the roof?? {soars off and hovers high in the sky.} What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?Harry grabs his broom and runs to get on it. Hermione stops him.Hermione: Harry, no! You heard what Madam Hooch said! Besides, you don't even know how to fly. {Harry flies off.} What an idiot.Harry is now in the air, across from Draco.Harry: Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!Draco: Is that so? {Harry makes a dash for him, but Draco twirls around his broom in a 360.} Have it your way, then! {He throws the Remembrall into the air.}Harry zooms after the ball, speeding towards a tower. Just as he is about to hit a window, from which McGonagall is working/watching, he catches it, and then heads back to the group. The students all cheer and run to see him.Boy: Good job, Harry!Boy 2: Oh, that was wicked, Harry.McGonagall: {appears quickly} Harry Potter? Follow me. {Harry sullenly follows her. Draco and his goons laugh.}Scene: Professor Quirrells classroom. He is inside, teaching, holding an iguana.Quirrell: An iguana s-such as this is {McGonagall approaches the class and stops Harry: You wait here.} an essential in-gredientMcGonagall: Excuse me, excuse me, Professor Quirrell. Could I borrow Wood for a moment?Quirrell: Oh. Y-yes, of course. {a boy, OLIVER WOOD, gets up to leave and Quirrell continues.} And the vampire b-bat...{eerie roar.}McGonagall: Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I have found you a Seeker!Scene: Harry and Ron are walking through crowded halls. Sir Nicholas and a lady ghost float by.Nick: Have you heard? Harry Potter's the new Gryffindor Seeker. I always knew hed do well.Ron: Seeker? But first years never make their house teams! You must be the

youngest Quidditch player inHarry: A century, according to McGonagall.Fred and George approach and walk along with Ron and Harry.Fred: Hey, well done, Harry, Wood's just told us!Ron: Fred and George are on the team, too. Beaters.George: Our job is to make sure that you don't get bloodied up too bad. Can't make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch.Fred: Brutal. But no one's died in years. Someone will vanish occasionally... {They break off from Harry and Ron, who walk across a courtyard.George: But they'll turn up in a month or two!!Ron: Oh, go on, Harry, Quidditch is great. Best game there is! And you'll be great, too! {Hermione jumps up from her work and comes to join them.}Harry: But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?Hermione: You won't make a fool of yourself. It's in your blood.Scene: The three approach a trophy case. Hermione points at a plaque of Quidditch players. One lists Harry's father as a Seeker.Ron: Whoa. Harry, you never told me your father was a Seeker, too.Harry: I-I didn't know.

Scene: The three are walking up a staircase. A railing pulls in...Hermione looks, but continues walking.Ron: I'm telling you, it's spooky. She knows more about you than you do.Harry: Who doesn't?The staircase shudders and begins to move. The three grab the railings.Ron: Ahh!Hermione: {Gasps.}Harry: What's happening?Hermione: The staircases change, remember? {The staircase stops, in a new place.}Harry: {taps Ron} Let's go this way.Ron: Before the staircase moves again. {They all open a door and walk into a spooky, dark room.}Harry: Does anyone feel like...we shouldn't be here?Hermione: We're not supposed to be here. This is the 3rd floor. It's forbidden.Suddenly, a flame lights on a tall stone support. At that moment, the caretaker's cat, MRS. NORRIS, comes running in and meows. The group jumps.Harry: Let's go.{meow}Ron: It's Filch's cat!Harry: Run!The group runs. Flames are lit as they go. They get to the end of the corridor, to a door. Harry grabs the handle, but it's locked.Harry: It's locked!Ron: That's it, we're done for!Hermione: Oh, move over! {pushes through and pulls out wand} Alohomora. {The door opens.} Get in. {They bustle in.}Ron: Alohomora?Hermione: Standard book of spells, Chapter 7.Filch appears at the start of the corridor with a light. Mrs. Norris looks at him.Filch: Anyone here, my sweet? {meow} Come on. {exit.}Hermione: Filch is gone.Ron: Probably thinks this door's locked.Hermione: It was locked.Harry: And for good reason. {Ron and Hermione turn to stand with Harry. There is a massively huge three headed dog sleeping in front of them. The dog, FLUFFY, begins to wake. It growls, yawns, and growls more...noticing the intruders.}All: AHHHHHHH! {The three bolt, running out of the door. They turn quickly to shut the door and battle against the dog. They get the door shut and run.}Scene:Back in the Gryffindor room. They are breathless.Ron: What do they think they're doing?? Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school.Hermione: You don't use your eyes, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?Ron: I wasn't looking at its feet! I was a bit preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn't notice, there were three! {they begin to climb the stairs to the dorms.}Hermione: It was standing on a trap door. Which means it wasn't there by accident. It's guarding something.Harry: Guarding something?Hermione: That's right. Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed...or worse, expelled! {turns and leaves, shutting the door to her dorms.}Ron: She needs to sort out her priorities!Harry nods.Scene: Outside, day time. Oliver and Harry appear, carrying a trunk. They put it down.Oliver: Quidditch is easy enough to understand. Each time has seven players, 3 chasers, 2 beaters, 1 keeper and a seeker that's you. There are three kinds of balls. {picks up a red one} This one's called the Quaffle. Now, the chasers handle the Quaffle and try to put it through one of those three hoops. {Points to a faraway Quidditch pitch.} The keeper, that's me, defends the hoops. {throws ball to Harry.} With me so far?Harry: {throws back} I think so. What are those? {points to two squirming chained down balls.}Oliver: ...You better take this. {hands Harry a small bat. He bends down and releases one ball. With an angry growl, it flies off into the air. The two boys watch it.} Careful now, it's comin' back. {The balls comes whizzing down, and Harry cracks at it with the bat. The ball soars off through a statue.} Eh, not bad, Potter, you'd make a fair beater...Uh-oh. {The ball zooms down, and Oliver grabs it, wriggling to get it back in the box. He succeeds and is out of breath.} Bludger. Nasty little buggers. But the only ball I want you to worry about is this...the Golden Snitch. {hands Harry a walnut sized golden ball.}Harry: I like this ball.Oliver: Ah, you like it now. Just wait. It's wicked fast and damn near impossible to see.Harry: What do I do with it?Oliver: You catch it...before the other team's seeker. You catch this, the game is over. You catch this,

Potter, and we win.{The ball flutters out two delicate wings and jumps into the air. Harry keeps an eye on it.}Harry: Whoa.Scene: PROFESSOR FLITWICK's class. The teacher is very short, and is standing on a bunch of books.Flitwick: One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is levitation the ability to make objects fly. Uh, do you all have your feathers? {Hermione raises hers.} Good. Now, uh, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing, hmm? The swish and flick. Everyone. {All} The swish and flick. Good. And enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go then.Draco: Wingardium Levio-saaa.{All practice.}Ron: Wingardrium Leviosar. {whacks with wand numerous times.}Hermione: Stop, stop, stop. You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, youre saying it wrong. It's Leviosa, not Leviosar.Ron: You do it then if you're so clever. Go on, go on.Hermione straightens up and swishes her wand.Hermione: {crisply} Wingardium Leviosa. {The feather glows and lifts up. Ron puts his head on his books dejectedly.}Flitwick: Oh, well done! See here, everyone! Ms. Granger's done it! Oh, splendid!Seamus begins swishing at his feather.Seamus: Wingard Levosa. Wingard Levosa. {Flitwick to Hermione: Well done, dear.}BOOOM!!! Seamus' feather explodes. Flitwick gasps.Flitwick: Whooaaa! Ooh.Harry: I think we're going to need another feather over here, Professor.Scene: Neville, Harry, Ron and Seamus are walking through a courtyard with other students all around.Ron: It's Leviosa, not Leviosar. Honestly, she's a nightmare. No wonder she hasn't got any friends!Hermione bustles past, sniffling.Harry: I think she heard you.Scene: Night, in the great hall. It is Halloween. Everyone is eating candy, and Jack O'Lanterns are keeping the place lit. There is chatter.Harry: Where's Hermione?Neville: Parvati Patil said that she wouldn't come out of the girl's bathroom. She said that she'd been in there all afternoon...crying.{Ron and Harry exchange glances. Suddenly, Professor Quirrell comes flying into the room, screaming.}Quirrell: TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON! T-TROOLLL IN THE DUNGEON!! {stops and there is utter silence.} Thought you ought to know. {falls over in a dead faint.}The room is silent, and then everyone freaks, screaming and running.Dumbledore: SILLLLLEEENNNNCEEEEE! {Everyone stops.} Everyone will please, not panic. Now, Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons.Girl: Hufflepuff, this way!Boy: Stay together!Snape looks aghast, and he disappears through a doorway.Scene: Percy is leading the house down a hall.Percy: Gryffindors...keep up please. And stay alert!Harry: How could a troll get in?Ron: Not by itself. Trolls are really stupid. Probably people playing jokes. {Suddenly, Harry stops and pulls Ron aside.} What?Harry: Hermione! She doesn't know!The two run off, down corridors. They start running down a hall when they stop, because there is a grunting noise. Harry pulls Ron into a doorway and a large, ugly TROLL thunks by into a room.Harry: He's going into the Girl's Bathroom!Scene: In the bathroom, Hermione emerges from a stall, wiping her eyes. She stops when she sees something. The troll is standing there. Hermione backs up, into the stall just as the troll raises its club and smashes the top part of the stalls. Hermione screams. Harry and Ron come bursting in.Harry: Hermione, move!The troll smashes the remaining stalls.Hermione: Help! Help! {The boys start throwing wood pieces at the troll.}Ron: Hey, pea brain! {Ron throws wood and hits the troll on the head. Hermione escapes from the stalls to under a sink, but the troll sees her and goes to smash her. It cracks the sink and barely misses Hermione. Harry cringes.}Hermione: Ahhh! Help!Harry gets out his wand. He runs forward and grabs the troll's club, and is lifted up.Harry: Whooa! Whoa, whoa! {He lands on the troll's head, and is hurled forward, then back, and his wand goes up the troll's nose.}Ron: Ew.The troll snorts, and whips around.Harry: Whoa, whoa whoa!The troll gets Harry off its head and is holding him by one leg, upside

down. It gears up its club and swipes at Harry. He pulls himself up, then down. The troll swipes again.Harry: Do something! {swipe}Ron: What? {swipe}Harry: Anything! Hurry up!Ron grabs his wand. Under the sink, Hermione waves her hand.Hermione: Swish and flick!Ron: Wingardium Leviosa! {flick. The club is lifted out of the troll's hand and hovers above its head. The troll looks up, confused, just as the club comes crashing back down. (Ron: Cool.) It hits the troll's head and the troll wavers, then drops Harry, who crawls away, and comes crashing down, hard.Hermione approaches carefully.Hermione: Is it...dead?Harry: I don't think so. Just knocked out. {He grabs his wand...which is covered in goo.} Ew. Troll bogies.Suddenly, McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell come rushing in.They all gasp.McGonagall: Oh! Oh, my goodness! E-Explain yourselves, both of you!Ron and Harry: Well, what it is...Hermione: It's my fault, Professor McGonagall. {The teachers, and Ron and Harry, gape}McGonagall: Ms. Granger?Hermione: I went looking for the troll. I'd read about them and thought I could handle it. But I was wrong. If Harry and Ron hadn't come and found me...I'd probably be dead.McGonagall: Be that as it may...it was an extremely foolish thing to do. {Harry looks at Snape's leg...which has a large cut on it. Snape notices and covers it up, glaring at Harry.} I would have expected more rational behaviour on your part, Ms. Granger. 5 points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment. As for you two gentlemen I just hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many students could take on a full grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. 5 points...will be awarded to each of you. For sheer dumb luck. {Snape and McGonagall exit.}Quirrell: Perhaps you ought to go...M-might wake up...heh. {Exit Ron and Harry and Hermione.} {Troll roars.} Ahh! Hehe....Scene: The next morning, in the great hall. The gang is sitting, eating. Harry is twirling his food on a fork.Ron: Take a bit of toast, mate, go on.Hermione: Ron's right, Harry. You're gonna need your strength today.Harry: I'm not hungry.Snape appears.Snape: Good luck today, Potter. Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you...even if it is against Slytherin. {Leaves, limping.}Harry: That explains the blood.Hermione: Blood?Harry: Listen, last night, I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that 3 headed dog. But, he got himself bitten, that's why he's limping.Hermione: But why would anyone go near that dog?Harry: The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He said it was Hogwarts' business, very secret.Hermione: So you're saying...Harry: That's what the dog's guarding. That's what Snape wants.{An owl screeches. It is Hedwig. She is carrying a very large, long parcel. She drops it off.}Hermione: Bit early for mail, isn't it?Harry: But I-I never get mail.Ron: Let's open it.{They open it.}Harry: It's a broomstick! Ron: Thats not just any broomstick, Harry. It's a Nimbus 2000!Harry: But who...?{He sees Professor McGonagall up at the head table, stroking Hedwig. She smiles and Harry nods.}Scene: Inside a Quidditch tower. The Gryffindor team is marching towards the starting gate. They reach it and stop, behind a closed double door.OIiver: Scared, Harry?Harry: A little bit.Oliver: That's all right. I felt the same way before my first game.Harry: What happened? Oliver: Er, I don't really remember. I took a bludger to the head 2 minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later.Harry gulps and looks straight ahead as the doors open. They mount their brooms and zoom out onto the enormous pitch. There is cheering. The commentator, LEE JORDAN, is talking from a tower.Lee: Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game Slytherin versus Gryffindor!!!{Cheering. Close-up of Gryffindor students. They are cheering. Neville: Gryffindor!}The players take their positions in the air in a circle. Harry weaves in, highest

amongst. He looks down.Lee: The players take their positions as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game.Hooch: Now, I want a nice clean game...from all of you. {looks at Slytherin. She kicks the trunk, and the bludgers zoom out.}Lee: The bludgers are up...followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the snitch is worth 150 points. The seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game.The snitch zooms around each Seeker's head, then disappears. Hooch grabs the Quaffle.Lee: The Quaffle is released...and the game begins!Gryffindor takes possession of the ball and a chaser, ANGELINA JOHNSON, zooms past Slytherins towards their goal, and throws the ball, and scores! There is a ding.Lee: Angelina Johnson scores! 10 points for Gryffindor! {He presses a button and a 10 shows up beside a plaque with Gryffindors name.}Harry, in the air, claps.Harry: Yes! {a bludger zooms by him.} Whoa!In the stands, Gryffindor cheers.Hagrid: Well done!Lee: Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle. Bletchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint.Flint dodges people and throws for the Gryffindor hoops. Oliver appears and whacks the ball away with his broom. He smirks at Flint, who glares. Johnson and KATIE BELL pass the Quaffle back and forth as they strategize to score. Johnson takes it, throws, and once again scores!Ron and Seamus: Yay!Harry: Yes!Lee: Another 10 points to Gryffindor! {ding.}Gryffindors: Yay!The Slytherins decide to get messy. They dodge, kick, and try to score. Once again, Oliver blocks.Flint: Give me that! {he grabs a beaters bat from one and whacks a bludger right at Oliver. It hits Oliver in the stomach and he falls to the ground.}Crowd: {Booing}Harry is visibly upset.Slytherin laughs.The Slytherin members head off. One jumps over George (or Fred) and scores. Harry is upset again. Slytherin cheers.Flint: {to other members} Take that side!They box Johnson in and sent her into the capes covering one of the towers. She falls down in and is out. The crowd boos. Slytherin scores once again. Suddenly, Harry sees the Snitch. He starts to head off after it and then his broom starts bucking and turning.Harry: Whoa! Whooa!Hagrid: What's going on with Harry's broomstick?Hermione looks through binoculars at Harry, then at Snape, who is muttering something.Hermione: It's Snape! He's jinxing the broom!Ron: Jinxing the broom? What do we do?Hermione: Leave it to me. {She hands Ron her binoculars and leaves.}Harry is knocked around, then falls, dangling by one arm from the broom.Ron: Come on, Hermione!Hermione is hurrying up a tower. She appears underneath Snape and touches his cloak with her wand.Hermione: Lacarnum Inflamarae.A spark ignites and Snape's cloak catches fire. Hermione leaves.Man: Fire! You're on fire!Snape: What? Oh! {knocks the man back, who falls into Quirrell, who then also falls. Snape bats out the fire and acts as though nothing happened. The broom stop bucking, and Harry climbs back on. The Slytherin seeker is after the Snitch. Harry takes off.}Ron: Go!Hagrid: Go go go!Harry rams the Slytherin Seeker, then is butted out. He returns, smashing the Seeker again as the Snitch dives. The boys follow, but they approach the ground quickly. The Slytherin Seeker backs out, and Harry pulls up his broom as he follows the Snitch, feet above the ground. Harry stands up, and steps forward, trying to grab the ball. He goes too far, and topples off the broom with a yelp, tumbling on the ground. He gets up and lurches.The crowd gasps. Hermione appears beside a tower to see.Hagrid: Looks like he's gonna be sick!Harry lurches and the Snitch pops out of his mouth. It lands in his hands.Lee: He's got the Snitch! Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!Hooch: {Blows whistle} Gryffindor win!All: YAY!Draco: No!Hagrid: Yes!Hermione: Whoo-hoo!McGonagall: {Giggles happily}Harry raises the Snitch into the air and the crowd, and his team, cheers.Crowd: Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor!

Scene:

Harry, Hermione and Ron are walking along a path with Hagrid, talking.

Hagrid: Nonsense. Why would Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?

Harry: Who knows. Why was he trying to get past that 3 headed dog on Halloween?

Hagrid: Who told you 'bout Fluffy?

Ron: Fluffy? Hermione: That thing has a name?

Hagrid: Well, of course he's got a name. He's mine. I bought him off an Irish feller I met down at the pub last year. Then I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the

Harry: Yes?

Hagrid: Shouldn'ta said that. Don't ask any more questions. That's top secret, that is.

Harry: But Hagrid, whatever Fluffy's guarding, Snape's trying to steal it!

Hagrid: Codswallop. Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher.

Hermione: Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a curse when I see one. I've read all about them. You have to keep eye contact. And Snape wasn't blinking.

Harry: Exactly.

Hagrid: {sighs} Now, you listen to me, all three of you. You're meddlin' in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous. What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel.

Harry: Nicholas Flamel?

Hagrid: I shouldn't have said that. I should not have said that. I should not have said that. {Exit.}

Harry: Nicholas Flamel...Who's Nicholas Flamel?

Hermione: I don't know.

Scene: Christmas. The camera pans up to a snowy castle, then to Hagrid, who is bringing in a large tree. Inside the great hall, students are leaving and ghosts are singing (Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, ring the Hogwarts bell. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas...) Hermione approaches the empty tables, wheeling a cart. She goes to Ron and Harry, who are playing chess.

Harry: Knight to E-5.

A piece moves across the board.

Ron thinks for a moment.

Ron: Queen to E-5.

A queen walks over to E-5 and clinks the knight away.

Hermione: That's totally barbaric!

Ron: That's wizard's chess. I see you've packed.

Hermione: See you haven't.

Ron: Change of plans. My parents decided to go to Romania to visit my brother, Charlie. He's studying dragons there!

Hermione: Good. You can help Harry, then. He's going to go the library for information on Nicholas Flamel.

Ron: We've looked a hundred times!

Hermione: Not in the restricted section...Happy Christmas. {exits.}

Ron: I think we've had a bad influence on her.

Scene:

X-mas morning. Hedwig is perched in the boys' room, and Harry is asleep in bed.

Ron: {calling from downstairs} Harry, wake up! Come on Harry, wake up!

Harry gets up and runs to a balcony overlooking the common room, where Ron is standing next to a tree. He is wearing a sweater with an R on it.

Ron: Happy Christmas, Harry.

Harry: Happy Christmas, Ron. What are you wearing?

Ron: Oh, Mum made it for me. Looks like you've got one too!

Harry: I've got presents?

Ron: Yeah!

Harry: Oh! {Harry runs down the stairs.}

Ron: There they are. {Ron sits on a couch arm and eats jelly beans as Harry picks up a silver wrapped package. Harry takes out the card.}

Harry: "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well."

Harry opens the present. It is a cloak.

Ron: What is it?

Harry: Some kind of...cloak.

Ron: Well, let's see then. Put it on.

Harry puts the cloak on, and all of him disappears except for his head.

Ron: Whoa!

Harry: My body's gone!

Ron: I know what that is! That's an invisibility cloak!

Harry: I'm invisible??

Ron: {gets up} They're really rare. I wonder who gave it to you.

Harry: {comes over} There was no name. It just said, "Use it well."

Scene:

Late at night. A lantern and hand appear, but nothing else. The ensemble walk through the dark library and into the Restricted Section. The lamp is put down, and the cloak removed. Harry appears.

Harry: {Reading books} Famous fire eaters...15th Century Fiends...Flamel...Nicholas Flamel...where are you?

Harry picks up a book and opens it. A man's face appears.

Man: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Harry slams the book shuts and puts it back.

Filchs voice: Who's there?! {Harry whips around, grabbing his cloak. The lamp falls and shatters.} I know you're in there. You can't hide. {Harry puts on his cloak and creeps around Filch.} Who is it? Show yourself!

Harry runs from the room, breathing heavily. He gets into the hall, where Mrs. Norris is. The cat meows and begins to follow him. Harry runs around a corner, just as Snape and Quirrell appear. Snape pushes Quirrell into the wall.

Quirrell: Severus...I-I thought...

Snape: You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell.

Quirrell: W-what do you m-mean?

Snape: You know perfectly well what I mean. {Snape senses something. Harry stops breathing. Snape reaches out to grab something, but doesn't. He whips his finger back in front of Quirrell's face.} We'll have another chat soon...when you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie.

Filch appears, carrying the broken lamp.

Filch: Oh, Professors. I found this, in the Restricted Section. It's still hot. That means there's a student out of bed.

They all dart off. A door opens, and closes. On the other side, there is a vast, empty room that has a large mirror in the center. Harry appears and walks over to the mirror. In it, he sees two people appear.

Harry: Mum? {the woman nods and smiles} Dad? {nods and smiles. Harry reaches out to touch them, but only gets the mirror. Then, his mother puts her hand on his shoulder. He puts his own hand on his own shoulders, as if trying to feel her there.

Scene:

The boys' room. Harry comes whipping in, invisible.

Harry: Ron! You've really got to see this! Ron! You've got to see this! {pulls back covers. Ron wakes up.} Ron, Ron, come on. Get out of bed!

Ron: Why?

Harry: There's something you've got to see. Now, come on!

Scene:

Back in the mirror room. Harry and Ron appear as if magically and Harry runs to the mirror.

Harry: Come on. Come. Come look, it's my parents!

Ron: I only see me.

Harry: {moves over} Look in properly. Go on. Stand there. There. You see them, don't you? Thats my dad

Ron: That's me! Only, I'm head boy...and I'm holding the Quidditch cup! And bloody hell, I'm Quidditch Captain too! I look good. Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?

Harry: How can it? Both my parents are dead. {Harry smiles sadly.}

Scene:

Another night. Harry is sitting in front of the mirror. Dumbledore appears behind him.

Dumbledore: Back again, Harry? {Harry turns around and stands up.} I see that you, like so many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I trust by now you realize what it does. Let me give you a clue. The happiest man on earth would look into the mirror and see only himself, exactly as he is.

Harry: So, then it shows us what we want? Whatever we want?

Dumbledore: Yes...and no. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. Now you, who have never known your family, you see them standing beside you. But remember this, Harry. This mirror gives us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away in front of it, even gone mad. That is why tomorrow it will be moved to a new home, and I must ask you not to go looking for it again. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live. {Harry looks back at the mirror.}

Scene:

Daytime. It is all snowy. Harry is out in a main courtyard, bundled up, with Hedwig on his arm. He stops and she lifts off, soaring away into the sky. When she returns, it is spring time.

Scene:

In the library. Harry and Ron are seated, reading. Hermione comes up with a huge book. She thumps it onto the table. Harry jumps.

Hermione: I had you looking in the wrong section! How could I be so stupid? I checked this out a few weeks ago for a bit of light reading.

Ron: This is light?

Hermione: {glares} Of course! Here it is! "Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

Ron and Harry: The what?

Hermione: Honestly, don't you two read? "The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It will turn any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal."

Ron: Immortal?

Hermione: It means you'll never die.

Ron: I know what it means!

Harry: Shh!

Hermione: "The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist, who last year celebrated his 665th birthday!" That's what Fluffy's guarding on the 3rd floor. That's what's under the trapdoor...the Philosopher's Stone!

They all look at each other.

Scene:

Nighttime. Hermione, Ron and Harry are running across the wet ground to Hagrids hut. They knock on the door and it opens.

Harry: Hagrid!

Hagrid: {clad in oven mitts and an apron} Oh, hello. Sorry, don't wish to be rude, but I'm in no fit state to entertain today. {Closes door.}

All 3: We know about the Philosopher's Stone!

{Door reopens.}

Hagrid: Oh.

{They all come into Hagrid's small hut.}

Harry: We think Snape's trying to steal it.

Hagrid: Snape? Blimey, Harry, you're not still on about him, are you?

Harry: Hagrid, we know he's after the Stone. We just don't know why.

Hagrid: Snape is one of the teachers protecting the Stone! He's not about to steal it!

Harry: What?

Hagrid: You heard. Right. Come on, now, I'm a bit preoccupied today.

Harry: Wait a minute. {Ron and a big black boarhound, FANG, meet. Fang sniffs Ron.} One of the teachers? Hermione: {sitting in a large chair} Of course! There are other things defending the Stone, aren't there? Spells, enchantments.

Hagrid: That's right. Waste of bloody time, if you ask me.

{Hermione looks at Ron, who is being sniffed in the face by Fang. Ron shuffles away.} Ain't no one gonna get past Fluffy. Hehe, not a soul knows how. Except for me and Dumbledore. I shouldn't have told you that. I shouldn't have told you that. {A cauldron over a fire begins to rattle.} Oh! {Hagrid hurries over and grabs something} Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! {puts the thing, an egg, on the table. The group crowds around.}

Harry: Uh, Hagrid, what exactly is that?

Hagrid: That? It's a ... its um...

Ron: I know what that is! But Hagrid, how did you get one?

Hagrid: I won it. Off a stranger I met down at a pub. Seemed quite glad to be rid off it, as a matter of fact.

The egg rattles and cracks. Pieces fly off as a dragon emerges. It squeaks and slips on an egg piece.

Hermione: Is that...a dragon?

Ron: That's not just a dragon. That's a Norwegian Ridgeback! My brother Charlie works with these in Romania.

Hagrid: Isn't he beautiful? Oh. Bless him, look. He knows his mummy. Hehe. Hallo, Norbert. {The dragon squeaks as it looks at Hagrid.}

Harry: Norbert?

Hagrid: Yeah, well, he's got to have a name, doesn't he?

Ron: {laughs}

Hagrid: Don't you, Norbert? {raises fingers back and forth across Norberts chin} Dededede.

Norbert backs away, hiccups and blows a fireball of fire into Hagrid's beard.

Hagrid: Ohh! Oooh, ooh, ooh, well...he'll have to be trained up a bit, of course. {Norbert hiccups. Hagrid sees someone looking in the window.} Who's that? {The person scampers away.}

Harry: Malfoy.

Hagrid: Oh, dear.

Scene:

The three are walking back through a corridor. An owl screeches.

Harry: Hagrid always wanted a dragon. He told me so the first time I met him.

Ron: It's crazy. And worse, Malfoy knows.

Harry: I don't understand. Is that bad?

Ron: It's bad.

They stop as McGonagall, in her nightgown, appears.

McGonagall: Good evening.

Malfoy appears smugly beside her.

Scene:

McGonagall's classroom. The three accused are standing in front of McGonagall's desk, while Malfoy is feet away, smirking.

McGonagall: Nothing, I repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, 50 points will be taken.

Harry: 50?!

McGonagall: Each. And to ensure it doesn't happen again, all four of you will receive detention.

Malfoy nods, then his smile vanishes.

Draco: Excuse me, Professor. Perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said..."the four of us."

McGonagall: No, you heard me correctly, Mr. Malfoy. You see, as honorable as your intentions were, you too were out of bed after hours. You will serve detention with your classmates.

Harry, Ron and Hermione grin, and Draco sags.

Scene:

Outside, at night, the four students are being led to Hagrid's hut by Mr. Filch.

Filch: A pity they let the old punishments die. There was a time detention would find you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons. God, I miss the screaming. {Draco gulps, and Hermione rushes by.} You'll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight. He's got a little job to do inside the dark forest. {Hagrid appears with a crossbow. He sniffles.} A sorry lot this, Hagrid. Oh, good God, man, you're not still on about that bloody dragon, are you?

Hagrid: {sniffs and sighs} Norbert's gone. Dumbledore sent him off to Romania to live in a colony.

Hermione: Well, that's good, isn't it? He'll be with his own kind.

Hagrid: Yeah, but what if he don't like Romania? {Filch rolls eyes.} What if the other dragons are mean to him? He's only a baby, after all.

Filch: Oh, for Gods sake, pull yourself together, man. You're going into the forest, after all. Got to have your wits about you.

Draco: The forest? I thought that was a joke! We can't go in there. Students aren't allowed. And there are...{a howl sounds}...werewolves!

Filch: There's more than werewolves in those trees, lad. You can be sure of that. {Draco looks frightened.} Nighty-night. {Exit.}

Hagrid: Right. Let's go.

Scene: In the forest. The group walks along a path to a tree. Hagrid stops, bends down and dips his fingers in a silver puddle. He pulls out his fingers and rubs them together. A silver trail smears with his fingers.

Harry: Hagrid, what's that?

Hagrid: What we're here for. See that? That's unicorn's blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. Now, this one's been injured bad by something. {Harry suddenly sees a large cloaked figure walking through the trees. He looks at Hagrid.} So, it's our job to find the poor beast. Ron, Hermione, you'll come with me.

Ron: {weakly} Okay.

Hagrid: And Harry, you'll go with Malfoy. {Draco grimaces, and Harry nods.}

Draco: Okay. Then I get Fang!

Hagrid: Fine. Just so you know, he's a bloody coward. {Fang whines.}

Scene:

Harry and Draco are walking through the forest, Fang leading. Draco has the lamp.

Draco: You wait till my father hears about this. This is servant's stuff.

Harry: If I didn't know better, Draco, I'd say you were scared.

Draco: Scared, Potter?! {Scoffs} {howl} Did you hear that? Come on, Fang. Scared.

Scene:

The group approaches a flat ground with gnarled roots all over. Fang stops, then growls.

Harry: What is it, Fang?

Up ahead, a cloaked figure is crouched over a dead unicorn, drinking its blood. The figure raises its head, silver blood dripping from its mouth.

Harry gasps and grabs his scar, which is hurting.

Draco: {A look of pure fear} AHHHHHHHHH!!! AHHH! {runs away, with Fang} HELP!!!!!

Harry is left by himself. The figure slides over the unicorn and rises erect. It advances towards Harry, who backs up, but trips. He crawls backwards. Suddenly, there is the sound of hoofbeats. A figure leaps over Harry and lands near the cloaked figure. It is a silver centaur, FIRENZE. It rears, and the cloaked figure retreats, flying away.

Firenze: Harry Potter, you must leave. You are known to many creatures here. The forest is not safe at this time. Especially for you.

Harry: {rises} But what was that thing you saved me from?

Firenze: A monstrous creature. It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure that the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life.

Harry: But who would choose such a life?

Firenze: Can you think of no one?

Harry: Do you mean to say...that that thing that killed the unicorn...that was drinking its blood...that was Voldemort?

Firenze: Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?

Harry: The Philosopher's Stone.

Suddenly, a dog (Fang) barks. Harry looks up and sees Hagrid, Hermione, Ron and Draco appear.

Hermione: Harry!

Hagrid: Hello there, Firenze. I see you've met our young Mr. Potter. You all right there, Harry? {Harry nods}

Firenze: Harry Potter, this is where I leave you. You're safe now. Good luck.

{Close up on the dead unicorn.}

Scene:Gryffindor common room. Right after 'attack.' The group is around the fire. Hermione and Ron are seated, but Harry stands.Hermione: You mean, You-Know-Who's out there, right now, in the forest?Harry: But he's weak. He's living off the unicorns. Don't you see? We had it wrong. Snape doesn't want the stone for himself, he wants the stone for Voldemort. With the Elixir of Life, Voldemort will be strong again. He'll He'll come back. {Sits down.}Ron: But if he comes back, you don't think he'll try to kill you, do you?Harry: I think if he'd had the chance, he might have tried to kill me tonight.Ron: {Gulp} And to think, I've been worrying about my Potions final!Hermione: Hang on a minute. We're forgetting one thing. Who's the one wizard Voldemort always feared?{The boys shrug.} Dumbledore! As long as Dumbledore's around, you're safe. As long as Dumbledore's around, you can't be touched. {Harry smiles slightly.}Scene:Some time later. In the outdoor courtyard. The three are walking.Hermione: I've always heard Hogwarts' end of the year exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable.Ron: Speak for yourself. All right there, Harry?Harry: My scar. It keeps burning.Hermione: It's happened before.Harry: Not like this.Ron: Perhaps you should see the nurse.Harry: I think it's a warning. It means dangers coming. Uhh! {He rubs scar and then sees Hagrid across the field, at his hut.} Oh. Of course! {runs for hut.}Hermione: What is it?Harry: Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger shows up and just happens to have one? {They approach Hagrid, who is playing the Harry Potter theme on his flute.} I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets? Why didn't I see it before? Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg? {Hagrid stops playing.} What did he look like?Hagrid: I don't know. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up.Harry: The stranger, though, you and he must have talked.Hagrid: Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him. I said, "After Fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem."Harry: And did he seem interested in Fluffy?Hagrid: Well, of course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three headed dog, even if you're in the trade? But I told him. I said, "The trick with any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy, for example, just play him a bit of music and he falls straight to sleep."The three gape.Hagrid: I shouldn't have told you that. {The three take off.} Where you going?! Wait!Scene:McGonagall's classroom. The three come tearing in and run up the aisles between desks. They pass a ghost and stop at the desk.Harry: We have to see Professor Dumbledore, immediately!McGonagall: I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London.Harry: He's gone?! Now? But this is important! It's about...the Philosopher's Stone.McGonagall: {shocked} How do you knowHarry: Someone's going to try and steal it.McGonagall: I don't know how you three found out about the stone, but I can assure you it is perfectly well-protected. Now would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly. {They leave.}Scene:After exiting McGonagall's class, they walk down the hallway.Harry: That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village. It was Snape, which means he knows how to get past Fluffy.Hermione: And with Dumbledore gone{Snape suddenly appears behind them}Snape: Good afternoon. Now, what would three young Gryffindors such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?Hermione: Uh...we were just...Snape: You want to be careful. People will think you're {Harry glares madly at Snape, who looks shocked} up to something. {Exit.}Hermione: Now what do we do?Harry: We go down the trapdoor. Tonight.Scene: Nighttime. In the Gryffindor Common Room. The three friends come down the stairs and begin to walk across the floor. They stop when they hear croaking.Harry: Trevor.Ron: Trevor shh! Go, you shouldn't be here!Neville: {appears behind a chair} Neither should

you. You're sneaking out again, arent you?Harry: Now, Neville, listen. We wereNeville: No! I won't let you! {stands} You'll get Gryffindor in trouble again! I-I'll fight you. {holds out fists.}Hermione: Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this...{takes out wand} Petrificus Totalus.Neville is frozen and falls backwards onto the ground. Hermione puts her wand back.Ron: {Gulp} You're a little scary sometimes...you know that? Brilliant, but scary.Harry: Let's go. {Walks by Neville} Sorry.Hermione: Sorry.Ron: It's for your own good, you know. {Exit.}Scene: The three are under the Invisibility cloak, sneaking along the corridor.Hermione: Ow! You stood on my foot!Ron: Sorry. {A flame lights. Hermione draws out her wand and points it at the door.}Hermione: Alohomora.The door opens and they go in.Ron: Wait a minute...he's....{a blow of air, and the cape flutters off them.} Sleeping.Harry: Snape's already been here. He's put a spell on the harp. {They approach the sleeping dog.}Ron: Uh. It's got horrible breath!Harry: We have to move its paw.Ron: What?!Harry: Come on! {grabs paw, which is blocking the door.} Okay. Push! {They strain and move it. They open the door.} I'll go first. Don't follow until I give you a sign. {Fluffy's eyes open.} If something bad happens, get yourselves out...Does it seem a bit...quiet?Hermione: The harp. It stopped playing.Drool from one head comes down on Ron's shoulder.Ron: Ew! Yuck! Ugh. {All three kids look up and see Fluffy standing there. Fluffy barks and growls, thrashing. It breaks the harp and dives at the three.}Harry: Jump! Go! {They all jump through the trapdoor.}Ron: Ahh! {gasps as he lands on some mushy black ropelike vines.} Whoa. Lucky this plant-thing is here, really.Harry: Whoa! {The plant begins to move towards them.} Oh. Ahh! {The plant ties them up.}Hermione: Stop moving, both of you. This is Devil's Snare. You have to relax. If you don't, it will only kill you faster.Ron: Kill us faster?! Oh, now I can relax!Hermione manages a smile as she is sucked down below.Ron and Harry: Hermione!!Ron: Now what are we gonna do?!Hermione's voice: Just relax!Harry: Hermione! Where are you?!Hermione (from below): Do what I say. Trust me.Harry relaxes and is sucked through.Ron: Ahh! Harry!Harry falls through and lands on the hard ground. Hermione goes over to him and he stands up.Ron: Harry!Hermione: Are you okay?Harry: Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.Ron: Help!Hermione: He's not relaxing, is he?Harry: Apparently not.Ron: Help! Help me!Hermione: We've got to do something!Harry: What?Hermione: Uh! I remember reading something in Herbology. {Ron: Help!} Um Devil's Snare, Devil's Scare, {The snare shuts Ron's mouth} it's deadly fun...but will sulk in the sun! That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight! {takes out wand and points upwards.} Lumus Solem! {A beam of light shoots out. The Snare shrieks and recoils. Ron falls below.}Ron: Ahhh!Harry: Ron, are you okay?Ron: Yeah.Harry: Okay.Ron: {stands} Whew. Lucky we didn't panic!Harry: Lucky Hermione pays attention in Herbology.There is a sound.Hermione: What is that?Harry: I don't know. Sounds like wings.They enter into a room filled with golden "birds."Hermione: Curious. I've never seen birds like these.Harry: They're not birds, they're keys. And I'll bet one of them fits that door. {They come upon a broomstick, suspended in the air.}Hermione: What's this all about?Harry: I don't know. Strange.{Ron creeps over to the door and takes out his wand.}Ron: {rattles lock.} Alohomora! {Shrugs} Well, it was worth a try.Hermione: Ugh! What're we going to do? There must be 1000 keys up there!Ron: We're looking for a big old fashioned one. Probably rusty like the handle.Harry: There! I see it! {points} The one with the broken wing! {He looks at the broom.}Hermione: What's wrong, Harry?Harry: It's too simple.Ron: Oh, go on, Harry! If Snape can catch it on that old broomstick, you can! You're the youngest seeker in a century!Harry nods and grabs the broom. All the keys suddenly go one direction, right at Harry. He climbs on, swiping at them.Ron: This complicates things a

bit!Harry pushes off into the air. He flies off, after the key. The others follow him. Harry grabs the key.Harry: Catch the key!He zooms by and throws the key to Hermione, who catches it and heads for the lock while Harry distracts the other keys. Hermione puts it in the lock.Ron: Hurry up!The door opens, and Hermione and Ron rush through, followed by Harry. They shut the door just as the keys slam up against it.Scene:They enter a dark room, with broken pieces all around it.Hermione: I don't like this. I don't like this at all.Harry: Where are we? A graveyard.Ron: This is no graveyard. {sighs} It's a chessboard. {Walks out onto the marble board and flames light, illuminating the board and GIANT players. Harry and Hermione come up with him.}Harry: There's the door.They walk across the board, towards the door. Suddenly, as they reach a line of pawns, the pawns bring up their swords. The three jump and back up.Hermione: Now what do we do?Ron: It's obvious, isn't it? We've got to play our way across the room. All right. Harry, you take the Bishop's square. Hermione, you'll be the Queen's side castle. As for me, I'll be a knight. {They all take their places.}Hermione: What happens now?Ron: {aboard a horse.} Well, white moves first, and then...we play. {A pawn on the other side moves forward. Ron studies the game.}Hermione: Ron, you don't suppose this is going to be like...real wizard's chess, do you?Ron: You there! D-5! {A black pawn moves forward, diagonal to the white pawn. The white pawn raises its swords and smashes the black one. The three jump.} Yes, Hermione, I think this is going to be exactly like wizard's chess!The game continues. Pieces smash each other, boom! Boom!Ron: Castle to E-4! Smash! Ron: Pawn to C-3! Smash! Boom! The Queen turns, and smashes a piece! Harry, Ron and Hermione wince. The Queen turns again. Both Ron and Harry study the game.Harry: Wait a minute.Ron: You understand right, Harry. Once I make my move, the Queen will take me...then you'll be free to check the King.Harry: No, Ron! No!Hermione: What is it?Harry: He's going to sacrifice himself!Hermione: No, Ron, you can't! {Ron closes his eyes.} There must be another way!Ron: {turns to face Hermione.} Do you want to stop Snape or not? Harry, it's you that has to go on. I know it. Not me, not Hermione, you. {Harry nods.} Knight...to H-3.Ron's horse moves forward, slides and stops.Ron: Check.The Queen turns and advances. Ron breathes faster, clutching the steel reins. The Queen stops. SMASH! Ron goes flying off the horse and lands on the floor, unconscious.Ron: Ahhhh!Harry: RON! {Hermione starts walking to him.} NO! Don't move! Dont forget, we're still playing. {Hermione moves back. Harry walks the diagonal in front of the King.} Checkmate. {The Kings sword falls onto the ground victory. Harry breathes out and then the two run to Ron. They bend beside him.} Take care of Ron. Then, go to the owlery. Send a message to Dumbledore. Ron's right...I have to go on.Hermione: You'll be okay, Harry. You're a great wizard, you really are.Harry: Not as good as you.Hermione: {smile} Me? Books and cleverness? There are more important things. Friendship, and bravery. And Harry, just be careful.Harry nods and stands, walking away.

Scene:Harry walks down a long staircase to an empty room with pillars around it. The Mirror of Erised is in the middle of the room, and a man is standing before it. It is Quirrell. Harry yelps and grabs his scar.Harry: You? {Quirrell turns around.} No. It can't be...Snape. He was the oneQuirrell: Yes. He does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to me, who would suspect, "p-p-poor s-stuttering Professor Quirrell?"Harry: B-but, that day, during the Quidditch Match, Snape tried to kill me.Quirrell: No, dear boy. I tried to kill you! And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with Snape muttering his little counter-curse.Harry: Snape was trying to...save me?Quirrell: I knew you were a danger right from the off. Especially after Halloween.Harry: Th-then you let the troll in.Quirrell: Very good Potter, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. While everyone else was running to the dungeon, he went to the 3rd floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again. He rarely left me alone. {Quirrell turns back to the mirror and Harry's scar hurts.} But he doesn't understand. I'm never alone. Never. Now...what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the stone. But how do I get it?{A raspy voice, VOLDEMORT, calls.}: Use the boy.Quirrell: Come here, Potter, now!Harry walks forward shakily.Quirrell: Tell me. What do you see?Harry looks in the mirror. He sees himself. His mirror self brings his hand into his pocket and takes out a red stone! The mirror self winks and puts the stone back. Very subtly, Harry reaches to his pocket. There is a lump. He gasps.Quirrell: What is it?! What do you see?!Harry: I-I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the house cup.Voldemort's voice: He lies.Quirrell: Tell the truth! What do you see?!Voldemort's voice: Let me speak to him.Quirrell: Master, you are not strong enough.Voldemort's voice: I have strength enough for this. {Quirrell unwraps his turban and on the side opposite his face, another face is planted. It is Voldemort who appears kind of like a snake. He stretches out and faces Harry via the mirror.} Harry Potter. We meet again.Harry: Voldemort.Voldemort: Yes. You see what I have become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite. Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can. Something, that conveniently enough, lies in your pocket!Harry turns and runs.Voldemort: Stop him! {Quirrell snaps his fingers and fire erupts all around the room. Harry is stuck.} Don't be a fool! Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live?!Harry: {shakes his head} Never!Voldemort: Haha. Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together, we can bring them back. {In the mirror, Harrys parents faces appear.} All I ask for is something in return. {Harry takes the stone from his pocket.} That's it, Harry. There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just give me the stone! {Mother and father vanish.}Harry: You liar!Voldemort: Kill him!Quirrell soars into the air and smashes into Harry, one hand on Harrys throat. They fall to the steps. The stone falls out of Harry's reach as Quirrell chokes him. Harry strains and squeaks. Suddenly, Harry puts his hand on Quirrell's, trying to get him off. Smoke furls from under his hand.Quirrell: Ahh! Ahh! {backs up. His hand is crumbling into a mountain of black ash.} What is this magic? {hand dissipates.}Voldemort: Fool! Get the stone!Quirrell: {Walks forward, but Harry puts both hands on his face.} Ahhhhhhhhhh!Quirrell backs up, then his face, which is horrendously burned, crumbles as he walks forward. His whole body is ash. He falls to the floor. Harry gasps. He looks at his own hands and hurries over to the stone. He picks it up and sighs, when he hears something. Turning, Harry sees a dust clouds with Voldemort's face. The cloud rushes forward, right through

Harry!Voldemort: Arrrhhhhhh!Harry: Ahhhhhhhhh! {Voldemort flies away. Harry falls to the ground, unconscious. He holds the stone in an outstretched hand.}Scene:The hospital wing. Harry is bandaged, lying in bed. He awakens, puts on his glasses, and sits up. There are cards and candy all over. Dumbledore approaches him.Dumbledore: Good afternoon, Harry. Ah. Tokens from your admirers?Harry: Admirers?Dumbledore: What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. {Both smile.} Ah, I see your friend Ronald has saved you the trouble of opening your Chocolate Frogs.Harry: Ron was here? Is he all right? What about Hermione? Dumbledore: Fine. They're both just fine.Harry: But, what happened to the Stone?Dumbledore: Relax, dear boy. The stone has been destroyed. My friend Nicholas and I had a little chat and agreed it was best all around.Harry: But Flamel, he'll die, won't he?Dumbledore: {sits on the bed.} He has enough Elixir to set his affairs in order. But yes, he will die.Harry: How is it I got the Stone, sir? One minute I was staring in the mirror, and the next...Dumbledore: Ah. You see, only a person who wanted to find the Stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it. That is one of my more brilliant ideas. And between you and me thats saying something. {Smile both.}Harry: Does that mean, with the Stone gone, I mean, that Voldemort can never come back?Dumbledore: Ah, I'm afraid there are ways in which he can return. Harry, do you know why Professor Quirrell couldn't bear to have you touch him? {Harry shakes his head.} It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark. {Harry touches his scar.} No, no, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin.Harry: What is it?Dumbledore: Love, Harry, love. {Pats Harry's head and stands up.} Ah. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I have lost my liking for them. But I think I could be safe with a nice toffee...{takes brown bean and eats it.} Mm. Alas. Earwax.Scene:Harry approaches a room where up on a stairwell balcony Hermione and Ron are talking. They stop when they see Harry and lean over the railing.Harry: All right there, Ron?Ron: All right? You?Harry: {shrug} All right. Hermione?Hermione: {smile} Never better.Scene:In the great hall. All students are seated, and green banners with snakes on them are around the ceiling.Dumbledore, at the head table, nods to McGonagall.She dings her glass and the chatter stops. Dumbledore rises.Dumbledore: Another year gone. And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus. In fourth place, Gryffindor with 312 points. {Clapping. Harry and Hermione hide their heads.} Third place, Hufflepuff, with 352 points. {Clapping.} In second place, Ravenclaw, with 426 points. {Clapping.} And in first place, with 472 points, Slytherin House.There is immense cheering.Students: Whoo! Yeah!Draco: Nice one, Mate! {sees Ron looking at him and sneers.}Dumbledore: Yes, yes, well done Slytherin, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last minute points to award. {The Gryffindor students look up.} To Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool intellect when others were in great peril, 50 points. {Applause.}Harry: {Pats} Good job.Dumbledore: Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess {Ron looks at Harry and mouths, 'Me?' Harry nods, and mouths, 'You!'} that Hogwarts has seen these many years...50 points. {Applause} And third, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 60 points. {Immense cheering.}Hermione: We're tied with Slytherin!Dumbledore: And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points to Neville Longbottom.Immense cheering erupts. Neville is unbelieving, and sits there while cheering

gets louder. Draco is downfallen.Dumbledore: Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe that a change of direction is in order. {Claps. The green banners change to Gryffindor red and yellow.} Gryffindor wins the House Cup!Cheering.Hagrid: Yes! {grins}All students stand and throw their hats into the air, except Draco, who smashes his down onto the table.Seamus: Neville! {Shakes his hand.}All rub each other's hair and jump around, cheering and laughing.Lee: Yeah! We won!! {Jumps with Harry, who looks back and grins very widely.}Scene:The outdoor train station. Students are walking around, getting in the train.Hagrid: Come on now, hurry up. You'll be late. Train's leaving. Go on. Go on. Come on. Hurry up.Harry hands Hedwig to a train man, and walks to an open door of the train with Hermione. Hermione waves to Hagrid, who waves back. Hermione gets in the train.Hermione: Come on, Harry.Harry: One minute. {He walks over to Hagrid.}Hagrid: Thought you were leaving without saying good-bye, didja? {Hagrid takes a red album out of his coat pocket and hands it to Harry.} This is for you.Harry opens the album and sees a picture, moving, of him as a baby with his parents. They are all smiling and waving. Harry smiles.Harry: Thanks, Hagrid. {Shakes Hagrid's hand, then hugs him tightly.}Hagrid: Oh. Go on...on with you. {Harry lets go.} Oh, listen, Harry, if that dolt of a cousin of yours, Dudley, gives you any grief, you could always, um, threaten him with a nice pair of ears to go with that tail of his.Harry: But Hagrid, we're not allowed to do magic away from Hogwarts. You know that.Hagrid: I do. But your cousin don't, do he? Eh? {chuckle} Off you go.Harry walks away, back to the train door where Hermione and Ron are waiting.Hermione: Feels strange to be going home, doesn't it?Harry: I'm not going home. Not really.The train whistles and they climb aboard. As the train starts to leave and the camera pans up over the whole scene, Harry waves out the window to Hagrid, who waves back and then waves more to other students as the camera pans far back, then the credits begin.

omg. everyone is going to hate me for flooding the dash. i KNOW i’m gonna lose a follower from this. but yknow what? harry potter is love and harry potter is life.

#gel’s letterbox #anon.letters #draco pls hmu #ily

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