Harry Potter awoke feeling energized and happy.
It was his birthday after all, and Ms. Cole said that someone had come to see him. He wondered if for his eighth birthday he might get adopted. It would be the perfect gift. But, if he was being honest with himself he doubted that it would be adoption. He wasn't good with people. He just couldn't understand them. He never seemed to have the same interests as the other kids. That wasn't his fault though! Learning about electrons and the way they transferred across mediums was fun! He'd come to accept that he would never be able to understand people, it never seemed to work. He couldn't stop himself from hoping though, that someday he'd have a family of his own.
The banging on the door broke him from his introspection. "Get up Harry! Stop being lazy you have an important visitor today, it wouldn't do to leave him waiting."
With the warning given from Ms. Cole, he left his bed and made his way into the nearest bathroom, the sound of it closing behind him serving to give him a sense of realism.
At Hogwarts
Albus Dumbledore felt anxious, for the first time in the last 5 years. He was to visit Harry Potter today, along with Severus. He had been given reports on the boy from Ms. Cole, a squib. One who was kind enough to take Harry into her orphanage. The reports she gave painted the picture of a young child who was very intelligent in science and math, nothing else, however. In fact that prodigious talent seemed to disappear when it came to dealing with others, he seemed to care for nothing else except the aforementioned subjects. The intelligence gave him reminders of Tom, though the social incompetence was something Tom never had, quite the opposite really. It seemed that Harry was Tom's equal, at least when it came to their living circumstances.
Sybil's prophecy mentioned Harry being his equal, perhaps their childhood? Harry seems to be living much like a young Tom Riddle I can only pray it's not so insidious, but fate has a way making all into fools
The intelligence Harry had would help him when he became a student; he wondered what subjects Harry would like, perhaps transfiguration. It was his own favorite after all.
Severus entered his office quite unexpectedly with a rare look of worry. "Headmaster, are you certain I should go with you to see the boy. I…. caused the death of his parents, to deceive him into thinking I'm not the reason for his being an orphan, disagrees with me."
Well, it seemed Severus was truly worried about this, seeing as how he didn't even offer a greeting. Quite rarely had he seen Severus shaken.
"Severus, I can empathize, but you will help the boy will you not? You'll find yourself teaching the boy, protecting him, if, no when Tom shall return. Harry's parents may be gone, but at the least, he has you and I are to protect him, most others don't have such, if you'll allow me to be prideful competent care."
The look of worry lessened. "Headmaster, thank you. I apologize for entering without permission."
Albus let a laugh escape. "Severus, you should know by now my door is always open to you, is there anything else I might be of assistance?" At Severus's shaking of his head, Dumbledore dismissed him.
Yes, Mister Potter shall be in fine hands, here at Hogwarts.
Harry stared at his unruly hair. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tame the crow's nest on his head. I hope whoever comes won't mind. With his last attempt failing, he made his way down to the living room. Ms. Cole was there giving instructions to the other kids on their chores, luckily he had none today. He waited for Ms. Cole to finish giving her instructions before speaking with her. "Ms. Cole, when am I to meet the people coming today?"
She looked down to him. "The headmaster and professor shall be here in 15 minutes, wait in the third room to the right."
He nodded his understanding and made his way into the room.
It wasn't an opulent room like the Queen's room he saw in an encyclopedia once, no it was a normal looking room he chairs were placed around a table, all a shade of light brown. The table had magazines on it, ones he had never heard of. The wallpaper was a nice velvet blue and didn't make his eyes hurt like the wallpaper found in some of the other rooms. There were a few paintings as well. He saw one of a lighthouse in front of a coast. Another was one was of who he thought was Richard the Lionheart, he couldn't be sure, however.
He sat down on the chair next to the painting of the man, facing the door. He felt himself get lost in his thoughts again. Ms. Cole mentioned a headmaster and professor, that means teachers right? So maybe it's a school? Maybe they want me to go there? I have no money though, and the orphanage doesn't have enough to send someone to school. He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard the door open.
The first to step in was an old man. He had light blue eyes covered by glasses. His elderly face was covered with a beard that went down to his stomach. Its color reminded him of snow. I wonder how long it took him to get it that long? Will I ever have a beard like that?
The old man smiled at him before taking a seat across from him. Behind him was a man, not nearly as old as the bearded one. He was in many ways, the inverse of the old man. He had ear length black hair that shone with what he assumed was grease, dark brown eyes that bordered on black. He had no facial hair though, and he wore an uncomfortable expression that even Harry could discern. He took the seat perpendicular to Harry. Once he sat down, the elder man spoke.
"Hello young Harry, I am headmaster Dumbledore, and this is my friend Professor Severus Snape. We are from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Witchcraft and Wizardry, this has to be a joke, but it would explain a lot.
The young boy looked up to meet the old man's eyes and spoke. "I don't believe you. I need proof." The old man released a loud laugh. "I see that you aren't a fool Harry, look at my hand."
Listening to the old man's words, he looked. What he saw left him speechless. For, above the elderly man's hands, slowly took form a lion.
The lion itself wasn't particularly large, but it was ever so detailed. The mane was well defined and the fur shone. When it finished taking shape in the man's hand it let out a roar. It wasn't a loud roar, no, in fact, it was more like the yawning of a cat. Nevertheless, however, there was a lion in the palm of this old man when there had been nothing before.
Harry's eyes met the blue of the wizard's, he tried to convey all he felt.
The old man let out a laugh. Harry pouted. That old man laughing at me! It's not my fault he just did something I never thought possible!
"Harry, I'm told that you are a boy who appreciates science, would that observation be correct?"
The bearded wizard's words had him at a loss. 'Science what does science have to do with any of this?'
"Yes, sir. But what does science have to do with… with what you just did?" Harry looked to the where the small lion stood in the hand of the elderly man.
Albus smiled. How long had it been since he showed the potential of magic to children? How long since he was able to see their wonder first hand? 'Too long
It reminded him of why he chose to become a teacher. The smiles of children, the imparting of knowledge, and watching the new overtake the old, it was to him an experience that he loved above all else. Watching Harry so shocked was one of those great experiences. Though to be fair even the average adult would be astounded. Afterall, conjuration without a wand wasn't something just anyone could do. No, sadly those kinds of feats required an understanding of magic that most never achieved.
"Harry my boy, science, and the philosophy behind it are but a lens. A lens to view life through, magic included. The vaunted scientific method is something that even magic benefits from."
He watched the boy look away from his hand a meet his eyes. A burst of emotions became known to him. Emotions he knew were Harry's. Wonder and fascination seemed to be the most prevalent.
The mind is an interesting thing, biologically and psychologically. It stood to reason that any forms of magic associated with the mind would in turn also be of an interesting nature. Legilimency happened to be one of those arts.
To use it one must first understand their own mind and be able to clear it with occlumency. Using their understanding of their own mind the wizard would then delve into the mind of another. This, of course, was by no means a perfect technique. Entering a mind was only possible if it was human in nature and not too, well insane for lack of a better word.
Once mastery was attained, some control was lost. Meeting the eyes of a person would forever give him a rudimentary understanding of their emotions.
Which is why Harry's emotions were so open to him now.
"Tell me, have you ever done things. Things of course out of the ordinary?"
He watched the boy's face light up with memories.
"Yes, sir. I've done odd things all my life, I never thought it was magic though."
"Would you be opposed to telling me what magic you've done, young Harry?" When the boy shook his head he let a smile come to his face.
"I've at times seemingly teleported when scared. It hurt, it was like swimming at the bottom of the lake. If I want it bad enough I can make things move."
To prove his point the boy held his hand out towards the table, with a look of concentration. Slowly but surely one of the magazines on the table rose. It moved through the air into the outstretched hand of Harry.
Well, that was impressive. Magic without a wand or even incantations was rare. Rare enough that only adult wizards that were powerful, who had the willpower and understanding to do things like that. For a child to do so, without understanding the nature of what he was even doing, well that was even rarer. In fact, he only knew of three that were able to do what Mr. Potter was. Tom Riddle, Grindelwald, and himself were those three. 'Though I suppose that Mr. Potter is the fourth.
His introspection was cut by Harry.
"It's not all I can do. I can make this light on fire if I want it enough."
Once again he demonstrated his claims. The magazine that Harry held levitated to eye level, had promptly burst into flames.
"I can stop fires too." With that said the boy let the fires die down, revealing a magazine heavily burnt and blackened. The smell of burnt paper hit his nostrils with a powerful kick. It harkened him back to worse days. It seems Mr. Potter has more power than sense. A dangerous combination, it seems I shall have to keep a very close eye on him. That kind of power in the hands of a child was dangerous, the world could attest to that.
At Hogwarts
The warm cup of tea was soothing to Severus, drinking it was even more so. Taking a sip he let it calm him and his raging thoughts.
Harry Potter. That name brought up so much in him.
He was bullied during his tenure at Hogwarts as a student. By the boy's father James Potter and his cohorts. He made the mistake of letting his past dictate his future and he fell in with those that accepted him when his only friend had left him, the mother. 'Though I suppose that it was my fault.
Calling Lily a mudblood out of anger was one of the worst mistakes he had ever made. It was a defining moment that shattered their already tenuous friendship. All of which led him into the Dark Lord's hands even faster. By the time he had come to realize his mistakes all of which he loved was dead, along with his will to live.
The headmaster had been quick to take control of his reins when the Dark Lord had fallen. Though he supposed that Albus Dumbledore was a much better man to be under compared to the Dark Lord.
He had seven years to mull over his choices. Choices which he ultimately regretted now. He regretted letting the darks arts became his haven when he was bullied, letting it seduce him with promises of retribution. He regretted falling in with the unsavory members of his house, letting them twist his mind against his best friend, the only person he loved. He regretted calling her that awful word. He regretted serving the Dark Lord, telling him of that prophecy. A prophecy that seemed to be playing out before his very eyes.
He had gone with the headmaster to visit the boy that was the remains of all that he cared for. What he saw terrified him. The boy wasn't evil, he wasn't sadistic. No, he was a young, intelligent and socially awkward boy. One who was capable of magic far beyond his years. That's what worried Severus.
The boy had more power than any child ought. Harry may not have been conjuring an army out of thin air, or some other ridiculous feat but that potential was there. It was like watching a new legend start out. As far as he knew only Dumbledore and the Dark Lord had such a grasp of magic at that age. To see another with the potential to become a sorcerer was, well terrifying.
The Dark Lord had brought utter fear to the Wizards of Europe. Enough that only a few even uttered his name. Even with his taboo gone.
What might Harry Potter be? The prophecy he had heard from Trelawny all those years ago came to the forefront of his mind. It brought a shiver down his spine.
An insidious thought came to him. Perhaps he will follow the Dark Lord's footsteps and become one himself. The boy had no friends to his knowledge. Would that loneliness turn to hate? It had in the case of Severus Snape.
He prayed Harry Potter would be better than him. The world had enough children grow bitter from their childhoods.
A gasp tore through his thoughts.
"Headmaster is it true!?" The words of Minerva McGonagall made his teacup vibrate, the feeling of it pulling him out of his introspective gaze even more.
A sigh pervaded the room.
"Yes Minerva, Mr. Potter does indeed seem to have an unusually strong grasp on magic."
Flitwick coughed into his hands. "I suppose that we were called on so that if the boy happens to be in any of our houses we would keep a better eye on him?"
Severus's eyes roamed across the room the room to meet the eyes of the other heads of houses. It seemed the headmaster really wanted to keep an eye on the boy. 'Good.'
The headmaster nodded. "Yes, I would like all of you to keep a close eye on the boy, and make sure he doesn't veer off onto a… unsavory path. The boy has much potential. Why he reminds me of myself. My teachers saw my potential. When I became bored with the material and started looking at things a boy my age wasn't ready for they kept me from veering into such things. I believe that Harry will need such guidance."
That was a startling thought. A young Albus Dumbledore seduced by the dark arts. What would such a man look like? What havoc would that man wreck on the world? Severus didn't want the answer.
The shortest among them spoke. "I understand headmaster. If the boy comes to Ravenclaw you have my promise, I shall do my best."
Minerva spoke next. "I concur, Mr. Potter is a child who needs guidance. It is our duty, as those who shall be his teachers to give him the proper guidance."
The headmaster looked at him, his eyes had that piercing look, legilimency. Not for the first time, he decided was an abhorrent art. "Yes, if Mr. Potter gets sorted into Slytherin I shall endeavor to take take care of him of to the best of my ability."
The headmaster let a smile arise.
"I find myself relieved to have my fears dispelled. Now to speak of something not so worrying, I have relieved myself of the post the of chief warlock, which leaves me with much more time on my hands than expected. I have taken it upon myself to fix up the castle, and as a surprise for the students I have created new brooms for them to use."
Severus's eyes widened. The headmaster resigning as the chief warlock, despite himself Severus could understand the reasoning behind it. The headmaster would want to protect the stone himself, not to mention his very presence would dissuade many from attempting a robbery.
It seemed that the coming year would be very busy indeed
He took another sip of his tea to quench his suddenly parched throat.
Harry sat on the foot of his bed mind ablaze with thoughts of magic. The headmaster had shown him something so wondrous that he simply couldn't get it out of his head.
He could still vividly see the small lion come into existence at the behest of the old man. With a fire in his chest, he decided. He would learn to create it as that old man had. The books on science he had hadn't talked about that kind of stuff at all. If those scientists didn't know about magic then what else might they not know?
How much of what people took for granted as scientific fact was incorrect? How much was unknown?
It was sad Harry thought.
To not know of how the world and reality worked. No matter he'd learn it all one day, and discover the truth for himself.
It was starting. His plan was taking place and he'd see if it would pay off. Eons ago he'd traveled out, outside of the dream. That moment had opened his mind to the truth of the dream. Now he needed one of them to learn of that truth as well and become what he failed to become... The Dreamer.