Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Because not only would that be plagiarizing, that would also be illegal. Owning other people is frowned upon in most countries, for those who weren't aware.

The Other Sorcerer's Stone

What if it had all been different, if Harry had gone evil, right from the beginning?...

Chapter 1

It was his birthday. July 31. A day like any other . . . but not for Harry.

Today was the day that Harry had found out that he was a wizard.

As he pondered the amazingness of it all, he stood in front of a brick wall, watching Hagrid touch seemingly random bricks with the tip of his large, pink umbrella. And then it opened up, and Harry was amazed again - for the third time that day. First when Hagrid had barged in, second when he had told Harry he was a wizard, and third, right now.

The bricks opened up to form a beautiful, perfect arch. He glanced over his shoulder - how could no one be noticing this? But no one inside the Leaky Cauldron seemed to mind the fact that a brick wall had opened up by itself and revealed a whole new world.

Harry stared around him, soaking up the sights and sounds. Little shops lined the broad cobblestone street, and people in the same strange style of clothing as those in the Leaky Cauldron walked the street, talking amongst themselves happily. Harry heard one angry woman - no, witch, he reminded himself - muttering something like "Newt eye prices, up so high . . ." as she marched out of the Apothecary.

"Better stop here first," Hagrid said casually. Apparently he didn't mind the fact that there was a whole new world back here either.

"Does everyone know about this place?" Harry asked in wonder.

"Diagon Alley? No. On'y wizards can get back here. And witches," he added quickly as a passing witch gave him a pointed glare. "Sorry, Madame Higgle!" he called after her. "She's real feminist, ya know," Hagrid informed Harry. Then, louder, he said, "Come on, Harry!"

People stared. Mutters filled the air of Diagon Alley - "Harry? Harry Potter? Is he here?" They peered at him closely, staring at his forehead. Harry ducked his head and tried to hide behind Hagrid and his huge overcoat.

"Oh," Hagrid said just before they could take refuge inside the dingy Apothecary. "Ya need money, dontcha?" He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and propelled him forward. "We'll need t' go t' Gringotts."

"What's Gringotts?" Harry asked quietly. He still refused to look up, for fear of seeing all the people watching him. It was creepy, honestly.

"That there is Gringotts," Hagrid said, tilting Harry's face up forcibly. Harry almost complained, but then he realized what he was seeing. He gasped. On the corner of an intersection of a few small alleyways, right beside the rest of the dingy little shops, was a giant, pure white building. In gold letters was inscribed, "Gringotts Wizard Bank."

"Wow," Harry breathed.

"Yep, purty neat. Plus, its run by goblins," Hagrid added excitedly.

"Goblins?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ah, yeh'll see." Hagrid pulled him across the intersection, up the white marble steps, and into the bank. Inside, little creatures sat behind high desks and led clients around the lobby, mostly through a door into someplace Harry couldn't see into, no matter how hard he tried. The creatures were humanoid, but their faces had different features and they had long fingers and feet. And of course, they were about half the size of Harry, who, besides the goblins, was the smallest one there.

"Yeh don't wanna mess with goblins," Hagrid warned Harry. "See that there?" He pointed to an inscription on the wall, and Harry read it. It was a poem, warning people of the dangers of stealing from the bank. It was rather intimidating.

Hagrid led Harry up to one of the high desks. Harry could not see over, and a goblin with a long nose and beady, mean-looking eyes peered over at him.

"We'd like ter open Harry Potter's vault," Hagrid said politely.

"Harry Potter," the goblin breathed softly. "The Boy Who Lived." His eyes seemed to be drilling through Harry's forehead, and Harry pushed his hair out of the way of his scar. The goblin admired it.

"Griphook, the key, please?" Hagrid asked, less polite of a tone this time. Griphook, the goblin, tore his eyes away from Harry and retrieved the key quickly.

"Anything else?" he asked coolly.

"Oh. Yeah. Erm, I need to open vault 713," Hagrid said. "Hogwarts business."

Griphook nodded and retrieved the second key. "Ready now!" Hagrid told him.

Griphook nodded again and disappeared. He reappeared moments later at Harry's side.

"Follow me, Potter. Hagrid," he added. Harry glanced nervously at Hagrid, but he was shoved forward. They passed through the door Harry had noticed before into a dark place, much less fancy and professional than the lobby. "Step in," Griphook commanded. He gestured at a small, unstable-looking cart that had just rattled up on a track of its own accord.

Harry's eyes went wide. He glanced at Hagrid frantically. Hagrid nodded encouragingly, and Harry stepped gingerly into the cart.

Nothing happened. He was fine. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

But then Hagrid got in, followed by Griphook. The cart took off, going from 0 to 60 miles per hour within less than 20 seconds. They raced down steep hills and made sharp turns, flashing past doors and mysterious passageways. Once, Harry caught sight of some flames. He wondered if it was a dragon.

Turning to Hagrid curiously, ready to ask, Harry opened his mouth. But Hagrid shook his head. "I shouldn' be openin' my mouth righ' now," he shouted over the loud wind.

A/N: Sorry if that was boring. I needed to lead up to the main event, y'see. Move along to the next chapter, now! Or you could review first...