I Own Nothing! This is set just after Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback in the first book. This is just setting the scene. :) Thankyou to Hermionewiz27 who is the beta for this story :)

An eleven year old Harry Potter strode through the dark corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry feeling absolutely terrible. On his own, he was wandering around the school at 11 o'clock at night trying not to cry because everything had gone drastically wrong. He had tried to go to sleep in his dormitory bed, but the week's events had kept him up. Practically the whole school now hated him, Neville and Hermione because of their previous 'jaunt' to the astronomy tower, which ended up losing Gryffindor house 150 points towards the house cup. Because of them the Slytherins were going to win again.

Professor McGonagall had assigned them all a detention too, and Harry was feeling very down trodden. He still felt that the 150 point and a detention was a bit too much for the prank she had expected them to pull. Ron had agreed with him, calling the Professor a few names that made Hermione gasp. Hermione on the other hand, was absolutely terrified of going to transfiguration now; she had been so upset by her Professor's words that Lavender grumpily told Dean she'd kept them awake the entire night with her incessant weeping. Hermione seemed to think that they'd deserved the punishment, and she continued to punish herself in Harry's opinion, what with all of the extra work she was doing. She took on extra work from all of the classes, except transfiguration, because neither Hermione nor Harry had any inclination to ever look their head of house in the eye again. In her words, she had been 'disgusted' with their behaviour and was likely still furious. She was not the only one.

The only people who would now talk to him were Ron and Hermione, and even his entire Quidditch team who once adored him for being their most talented seeker yet, now only referred to him as 'the seeker' when they needed to. It was awful. But he understood their anger, because the Slytherin's were now strutting about the school as if they owned it, and every time they saw him they would call out thanks which turned the other houses on him with renewed hatred. Even worse, however, was the guilt Harry felt for getting Neville involved. Both he and Hermione were better off than Harry himself, because they were less well-known, but Neville's tormentors had increased week by week, and Hermione herself was teased every time she put up her hand, and had eventually stopped doing so in class. Harry more than once ending up tripping over a student's foot, and Hermione regularly came into the common room with muddy robes. The other students hated them, and they were miserable. It's not as if we even did anything wrong. Harry thought bitterly, and he felt quite a strong sense of irritation for both McGonagall and Malfoy.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't notice the brick wall until he had walked face first into it. Getting back up, he looked more closely, surprised that he'd never seen it before. He was sure that this wall hadn't ever been there before because this was the corridor he usually took to get to potions if he was running late. The wall itself was plain and dusty, but halfway down it there was a little door, so small only a child could crawl through with ease. It was thin and wooden, and had at some point long ago been painted to blend in with the rest of the wall. The whole structure looked ancient, older than even the school's walls and Harry wondered why he hadn't heard about it before. He also wondered why there was a now very weak glamour charm covering the whole thing, so that a few steps back you wouldn't be able to see the tiny door. Someone didn't want anyone to find it. Harry was just about to reach and turn the handle of the door, when he noticed the keyhole. Looking around, he couldn't see anywhere where the key would be hidden, and Harry found himself frustrated. He was curious about the door, and wanted to know what was behind it. He turned the handle anyway, expecting the extra force he put in to make the door open regardless, but was surprised when it didn't. This made him surer than ever that someone didn't want him to go through. Maybe it is Professor Flitwick's. He thought with some amusement. Or… Maybe it has something to do with Nicholas Flamel. But at the mention of that name again Harry remembered his current situation, and the shame and guilt bubbled up anew. He had sworn off of being nosy, and this door would just have to stay closed. Walking firmly away, Harry tried to forget where he had found it, but the unmistakeable image of its golden handle wouldn't leave his mind.

Eventually, he would crack.

I watched the little boy leave with a sense of satisfaction. He seemed so lost, so unhappy. So very vulnerable. A feral grin unfurled on my face as I licked my lips in anticipation. Turning gracefully I began humming a tune as I set to work on creating my newest doll in his honour. I would be finished just in time for him to wake up. As I set about working I remembered his green eyes. Such beautiful eyes they were, full of all kinds of emotion. It looked like I had found my newest pupil. I briefly wondered whether he had any more friends like him, and vowed to keep a look out, after all two children was always better than one. My heart ached, and so did my stomach. But for now I knew that I had to wait and watch. After all I would need a form to make better, and I would need to know much about the child…Harry.