That August morning was quiet while everyone in Little Whining slept except a young, black haired boy named Harry Potter. The previous day he had returned from Diagon Alley and this morning he woke early from excitement. School didn't start until September 1st but he couldn't keep his mind off the coming year where he would learn magic. Magic of all things.
He rolled out of bed to search for clean clothes amongst the mess of his new bedroom but was distracted by a pile of books on his nightstand. At the bookstore in Diagon Alley he had bought all his school books and eyed some books on curses eagerly but these didn't look like anything he had seen. They were mugglish in fact. The top book had a red dust cover and, he stared at this, his name. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and on down to the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallow. If Hogwarts was all a prank this would be worse. It couldn't all be a prank though. He had seen Diagon Alley with his own eyes. Did all Hogwarts students get books like these? Had an owl delivered them? Hedwig was sleeping comfortably on her stand and provided no answers.
He picked up the first book and opened the well-worn cover, letting his fingers linger on the bent spine noticing the small rip in the dust cover and eyeing the smudged finger prints around the edges. By the end of chapter two he was enthralled with the exact story of his life down to the spiders in the cupboard. He finished the first book that day and started the next.
Although receiving above average marks at school Harry had never considered himself a reader. Sitting down with a book was not his idea of fun. Nevertheless, five days later Harry put down Deathly Hallows and dropped his face to the pillow. He would see his school nearly destroyed and his father's friends dead. His godfather and favorite professor would die and, while sad, he wasn't sure what to feel. He hadn't known the men had existed until a few days ago. He would have friends though.
If this was a joke people would laugh at him so his best option was to ignore it. Pretend they didn't fool him. If it was some sort of magic (time travel perhaps). . . he wasn't sure what to do. His best option was to go to school and see just how real it was. The Dursleys' were studiously ignoring him now so he took the opportunity to go to Uncle Vernon's shed and find a piece of plywood. He measured the interior of the trunk and used a hand saw to cut a piece that fit inside as exactly as he could. The edge was wavy in parts but he kept some scrap pieces in case he learned to fix it with magic. The difference in wood was obvious but it was the best he could do. He nailed other pieces of scrap in each corner then lay the plywood carefully on top. His false bottom fit snuggly and there was room for the books underneath. Hopefully curious students wouldn't look for muggle hiding techniques. Not that he had a choice because he knew no magical methods.
Every night that summer he dreamed of a castle aflame and a green skull hovering over the Little Whining. He might, if this wasn't an elaborate prank, be able to save his friends.
In King's Cross he met the Weasleys' and the journey to Hogwarts was exactly as depicted in the book which strengthened his belief that it was all real. Even pranks couldn't go this far. He was sorted into Gryffindor and fell asleep quickly with the books safely hidden in his trunk.
Hushed voices rustled through the library as students studied, goofed off, flirted, and were quieted periodically by Madame Prince. Harry, Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus huddled around a table working through transfiguration worksheets. All of Harry's foreknowledge didn't include homework. Based on the books he had to fight Death Eaters (he didn't particularly like that) and knew he must learn magic beyond what school taught. This resolve kept him working more than he perhaps would but not as much as he felt he should. Worrying about dying could only motivate him so long.
Lavender sat down at their table. "Have any of you done the potions essay yet? We're stuck."
"Why don't you ask Hermione? I bet she's done it already." Lavender rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she has but who wants to talk to her." Harry pulled back at her ugly tone.
Undecided if he should try to alter things this early. Nothing could go wrong by being friendly though. "She's not that bad Lavender. She just takes school seriously."
"Oooh somebody's got a cruuush" came the sing-song chant from the blonde. Harry blushed but managed to deny and insist Hermione was only taking school seriously. This resulted only in his friends laughing at him. Discouraged he got up and approached Hermione. "Umm Hermione? Have you done the potions work yet?"
"Of course I have."
He paused waiting for her to continue but she kept her head down and her quill never stopped.
"Would you mind letting me look it over? I'd like to have a better idea of where to start."
Her head snapped up and Harry saw her red eyes. "You think because I'm not too bad you can beg work off of me?"
Harry blushed. He hadn't realized she could hear them and now wished he had been more forthright but it was too late.
Hermione grabbed her books and sprinted for the door. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot and back again. Making up his mind he followed and called her name but she ignored him until she ended up in the first floor girl's bathroom. Harry stopped and looked around at the place he would fight the troll. His first great adventure with his friends. A group of older students came around the corner and this was not the time to follow her inside. He meandered back to the library disconsolately.
The weeks passed with Harry applying himself to class and having fun with Ron. Flying lessons were as fantastic as he'd imagined and he had been made Seeker just like in the books. So far the books hadn't been wrong.
Halloween day came and Ron sent Hermione crying as he'd expected. Now he had to save her and they could research the philosopher's stone together. He was too keyed up to eat at dinner but no one noticed amidst the festivities. Finally there came a cry of "Troll! Troll in the dungeon! Thought you ought to know." After the initial panic Harry grabbed Ron and they took off for the first floor girl's lavatory. He peaked around the corner but the hallway was quiet. Harry sprinted to the door and knocked on it. "Hermione. Come on there's a troll. We've got to go." Instead of the expected argument he heard only silence.
"Harry what are we doing here?"
"We're looking for Hermione."
"I know but what are we doing here? Parvati said she's in the 2nd floor lavatory."
He stared at Ron aghast at his mistake. He slammed open the bathroom door and shouted her name. "Hermione. Hermione." He threw open every stall door but they were empty. Something heavy settled in his stomach and he looked back at Ron. "Run. Go!"
They sprinted down halls and took the stairs two at a time. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to yell his friend's name but didn't have the breath. Far ahead he heard a scream, then a roar. Redoubling his pace he raced on to save his friend. The scream came again then stopped. He gasped for breath and forced himself to speed up around the final turn. In front of him stood a troll. He had a club in one hand and a doll in the other. Hermione. Bloody Hermione. Helpless to do anything except watch, the troll lifted the girl and took another bite eating flesh and clothes indiscriminately. He raised his wand to cast the killing curse but couldn't form the words. He struggled, breath harsh and ragged, to bring forth some magic but his mind was flat.
From the far end of the corridor came a whispered WORD. Almost lower than he could hear but so deep and so resonant with power that his bones echoed in sympathy. The troll fell boneless and dead revealing Dumbledore, wand raised and blue eyes shining with unrestrained power. "Harry, my child what are you doing here?"
"We wanted to help her. She wasn't at the feast." He paused and swallowed. The pounding in his head increased and his breath came in gasps. "Parvati said she was crying in the bathroom so we came for her but . . ." He paused and closed his eyes gathering himself. The wrong bathroom. What had he done? This wasn't in the books. This wasn't supposed to happen. "I messed up" but Harry didn't think anybody heard him.
On Christmas morning Harry woke up to find his invisibility cloak waiting for him. Thankful that he hadn't broken things too far, Harry explored the castle that night. He knew all about the Philosopher's Stone and so had no need to enter the restricted section. Tempting fate with Snape and Filch wasn't worth it. Instead he searched for the Mirror of Erised. After Halloween he had stayed up late to reread the books. He wanted to know they by heart and the Mirror of Erised chapter was well known to him. He started at the library and fled as if being chased. From there he wandered. Through the lonely castle he explored moving from moonlight to shadow and back again. His muggle, rubber soled shoes made no sound on the cold stone floor. He peered through a gap in the frosty windows. Moonlight reflected off the snow covered courtyard and lit walls from the ground. Finally, down a long corridor, lined with abandoned classrooms, one door was cracked open.
Harry stood in front of the Mirror of Erised and dropped his cloak unsure of what he'd see. Ever since Halloween he had been uncertain how to proceed. Not all the excitement of Hogwarts and the Books nor the terror of the troll had driven from his heart the desire for the love of his family.
The mirror was blank for one moment and then it changed. He was older now and taller and stronger too. In one hand he held a long thin wand, the elder wand, and in the other a stone while from his shoulders flowed the silver invisibility cloak. His older self spoke and called forth the resurrected dead. This world was a corrupted place with power he could make so many things right.
The mirror shifted again. Around him stood a crowd of people; black hair and red. His parents were behind him and his siblings beside. Behind them waved a crowd of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents but best of all were his friends. Hermione, Ron, and Neville intermingled with his siblings. Also two girls stood there. One blonde and the other a redhead. He had only briefly seen Ginny at King's Cross and never Luna but he knew them instantly.
Once more the mirror shifted. He was sprawled on the living floor and watching TV with Dudley when Petunia called. "Supper's ready. Come on you two." He and Dudley raced to the dining room . . .
Harry was older now. He stood beside Dumbledore as the headmaster guided him through the mysteries of magic and ancient powers that would help him in the war to come. His mentor lectured him and watched with pride as Harry succeeded.
A hand on his shoulder pulled him back. "Harry. Harry." His knees locked up and he collapsed on the ground. The ceiling spun and he closed eyes briefly then opened them again to find Dumbledore looking at him. "Are you all right?"
He closed his eyes again and sunk into the floor. His whole body ached but he answered. "Yes I'm fine. I just. . . The mirror. I got pulled in." He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. He turned his head away not daring to look at the mirror.
"You have been here for some time. Have you discovered what it does?"
He knew the answer but that hadn't saved him. All the foreknowledge had not saved him from succumbing to the enchantment. How much control did he really have? "Does it show the future? Your destiny?" He desperately, achingly wished this were true.
"No though many have wished it were so. The mirror provides no divination or guidance."
"Dreams then. It shows dreams and desire."
"That is correct. It is named the Mirror of Erised and it provides neither wisdom nor hope. I will move the mirror Harry. I must ask you not to go searching for it."
"No sir. I won't." and he meant it. He struggled to his feet and walked into the sunlit hallway. The night had passed away in a delirium of joy but he had nothing except an aching body to show for it.
"Harry?"
"Yes sir?"
"You're late for Herbology. I suggest you hurry."
On the third floor, Harry settled down to wait. The school year was almost over and Dumbledore had left for the Ministry so Quirrel's time had come. Dumbledore could see through the cloak and Voldemort might be able to as well so in addition to his invisibility cloak he sat around the corner from the locked entrance putting a stone wall between himself and the Dark Lord. He had considered ignoring the man since he didn't get past the mirror but given time Voldemort might find a way and that was too great a risk. If he deviated from the books too much Voldemort might succeed and the books would become useless.
He could hear the other kids playing pick-up Quidditch through the open windows. The evening passed slowly and sunlight faded into darkness. The Dursleys had taught him to sit and be quiet so he did. Rays of sunshine marked time on the wall until they disappeared then the night crept on one heartbeat at a time. Finally he heard a scuffed footstep. He gripped his wand and stood silently. He never heard 'alohamora' but the lock clicked and the hinged squeaked.
Harry knew what he had to do. He didn't want Voldemort's searing flesh to burn him into unconsciousness which left one option. He waited until harp music wafted down the hallway then crept to the door. He cast the unlocking charm with a whisper and eased it open. Inside Fluffy slept while Quirrel stood above the open trap door. A whispered wingardium leviosa lifted the harp gently off the ground then it fell with a crash. Quirrel spun to look at the harp but the dog opened one eye and looked at Quirrel. The professor locked eyes with Harry, raised his wand, and flew towards him. Fluffy snatched and missed. Then Harry pulled the door shut. He could feel someone pulling it from the other side so he braced his foot on the wall and held on. On the other side of the door Quirrel yelled and Fluffy barked. Then there was a scream. Harry let go of the door and fled down the hallway and through a secret passage. Then up a stairwell and blindly down another hall. Finally he slowed to an inconspicuous walk and tried to control his breath. He returned to the tower and collapsed onto his bed not daring to think of what the morning might bring.
Surprisingly the morning brought nothing. Defense class was cancelled but no one approached him. He and Ron played chess and gobstones and procrastinated studying for finals. Slowly he settled into a suspenseful wait but nothing happened. The year ended without a visit from the aurors and Harry said good bye to Ron.
Now he had to decide how to handle the diary.