This is just something that came up in my head, please don't hurt me. I get random ideas and the best thing I can do with write them out. I'm willing to continue the different chapters into full-length stories, but I'd need to know which ones would actually work for people.

Please note: This is unbeta'd

Harry Potter Exaltation thoughts:

Option the 1st:

Scene: First year, Mirror Chamber during the fight with Quirrel.

"Give it up, Potter. There's no way you can win." Quirrel had a mad gleam in his eye. His Master had given him an order and he was loath to disobey. He looked at the young boy responsible for his Master's current state and reached forward to grab him.

Harry couldn't effectively struggle during this time, being only 11 years old and being unable to effectively reach his wand to cast any spells. The second Quirrel's skin touched Harry's own, however, sent pain lancing through his world like none he'd ever felt before. His eyes blurred with the pain and his flesh felt like it was being seared off, but with a crack in his eyes as the pain receded almost instantly, he saw that Quirrel's flesh was actually turning to stone.

Not stopping to ask questions like "why" or "How" considering he'd spent the better part of the last year learning about honest-to-goodness MAGIC, Harry pressed his advantage and placed his own hands on QUirrel's face, heedless of the man's screams and the screams of the thing that identified itself as Lord Voldemort.

In that moment, Harry felt almost like everything that could be right in the world was, like every bit of warmth he had in him spread out and in doing so burned the foul creature of darkness that stood before him. Something in haryr's mind snapped into place. No longer was Harry holding onto a man's face, he was peering into the eyes of a being made of concepts and functions. He was looking into the Abyss and while it stared back at him, he was punching it in its conceptual throat, hurling it down towards the earth below screaming it's death throws as it fell.

When Harry's mind returned to the present, not a moment had passed, as he was still holding firm onto his former professor's face, watching it burn with a childlike glee.

In another world, harry would be horrified by what was happening, but not let go for fear of what Quirrel might do should he get another chance, even as the arms clawing at Harry's hands turned slowly into stone, breaking away into dust. But that is not this Harry. This Harry smiled and released the older man from what was to be his death only to spin around, extending his arm while placing one hand in his other to add structure to the next blow.

Harry landed his elbow in the reeling man's ribcage, hearing a satisfying crack as bone shattered and wisps of darkness escaped from the flesh of his opponent. The light of the room, formerly only candles was replaced by light comparable to the sun as Harry continued attacking, letting his blows stay long enough to burn flesh, but not long enough to truly kill his target.

It was only after Quirrel was dead and the adrenaline faded from Harry's mind that he realized something was wrong. Looking back to the Mirror of Erised, SOmethignwas off about the reflection.

Instead of just his family, for they were there still, surrounding him and lauding him with love in their eyes, Harry could see more of the world behind his family. A vast landscape of green pastures splayed out before a golden city with spires reaching the sky, gleaming in the sunlight as a sense of peace and tranquility took a hold of his mind, reflecting the ambient emotion of his kingdom.

Harry himself looked different. Instead of the slightly malnourished boy he had seen not a few moments ago in the mirror which supposedly reflected his deepest desires, he saw a boy in robes of purer-than-pure gold, on his brow sat a sunburst patter, which even in the dark of the room Harry could see easily splayed on the walls when he turned his head away from the mirror. The golden light coming from Harry's forehead filled him with a sense of righteous purpose and satisfaction at achieving victory, even over such a pitiful opponent as Quirrel.

When Headmaster Dumbledore arrived, it was not to a chours of screams, nor was it to the sight of Harry defeating his instructor and it was most disturbingly not to the sight of Voldemort's spectral form racing away from the school to find refuge elsewhere. It was to seeing Harry Potter Radiating a light like unto that of a new dawn, soft whites and golds flowed aorund his form and small flares of solar fire burst from places where the young boy's flesh almost came into contact with itself.

And then the light faded and so did Harry's consciousness. He would not wake up for several days, afterwhich many things would be different…

Now if only Dumbledore could figure out what was going on…

AN: Short, I know, but these aren't really supposed to be long, jsut little things tog et my mind away form school for a short while