AN: Still updating this one though definitely not my first priority. There's a time jump here to the end of Harry's first year. I will be going back and forth in future chapters. So, if you're more interested in Harry's life pre-Hogwarts or earlier on in the first year I'll be adding scenes as well. Note, this Harry is a bit different from cannon Harry he has a different parentage than cannon Harry. And quite honestly, I can't see the child of Feyre and Rhys acting like Cannon Harry. Again appreciate any adds and reviews I get to this one.

Chapter One: Near Death Experience

Eleven Years Later: Hogwarts Castle, Middle of Nowhere Scotland

Harry Potter was not a normal boy.

He was told this from a very young age via Dursleys.

By all accounts he looked normal enough. Maybe a little bit on the scrawny side, with hair that never seemed to lay down flat, and ears that might've been just a tad bit on the pointy side.

One of the few things he got from Lily Potter besides her infamous green eyes. Or freakish eyes as Aunt Petunia called them. The wizarding world at least had a better opinion of Lily, or at least they didn't talk about her the way Aunt Petunia did.

As for James Potter, people said he looked like him, but honestly other than similar coloring and hair that didn't lay quite flat, Harry didn't really see it. He guessed people would see what they wanted to see though.

Perhaps, that's why everyone was so shocked when he was sorted in Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor—which was his parents' house. Harry wasn't too surprise though. He liked to learn. The hat knew that, ergo Ravenclaw. Though, it did seriously consider Slytherin.

"You could be great, you know." He remembered the hat telling him. "It's all in you, but there is always a deepest desire is knowledge, isn't it, Mr. Potter?"

Harry enjoyed his house, while Ravenclaws weren't as loud and bold as Gryffindors or as aggressive and ambitious as Slytherins, there was something quietly powerful about the house of knowledge. Besides, everyone knew that their common room was by far the best with its airy layout, great views complete with skylights, and single room dormitories.

Plus, it allowed him to have friends from other houses without having to worry about ridiculous house rivalries. Although, right now he could sort of understand his Slytherin friends' desire to strangle Gryffindors.

Hermione Grange had seemed like a good person to be friends with. While the girl did seem to be a bit of a know it all, she did know her stuff and she was sort of like a sad puppy at the beginning of the year. Her housemates had clearly ostracized her for being overly aggressive in class. Harry didn't like bullies, so naturally he took her under wing.

Of course, her isolation in Gryffindor changed after Halloween. Harry frowned as he thought about that stupid troll. He should've let that monster club Ron Weasley. But instead, he ended up saving their asses and in the process Ron became a tag-a-long friend whenever he hung out with Hermione who usually complained about the fact that the two of them studied.

If Ron asked him if he wanted to play chess one more bloody time he'd shove that stupid pawn up his ass.

He didn't know why he had such an adverse reaction to Ron Weasley—maybe it was his reaction to him on the train. He wanted nothing to do with Harry until he was his scar and then he wanted to be his best buddy. He oddly reminded him of Draco Malfoy, though he knew the redhead would blanch at the comparison. So would Draco.

Funny, how much they'd get along save for the fact that one was in the house of the snakes and the other was a lion.

Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zambini—his friends in Slytherin—found it hilarious too.

Despite the fact that he tried to make himself out to be the quintessential Slytherin, his own house wasn't amused with him.

Or at least the Slytherins worth talking to. He wished Hermione would've saw as clearly as Daphne and Blaise did to Ron's stupidity as they did with Malfoy's. Alas, though, him trying to save her life endeared him to her—although, she still got annoyed with the redhead's poor studying skills.

However, that didn't prevent her from getting involved in his shenanigans like the Philosopher's Stone business. Which was why Harry was risking his life right now, to save her ass.

He had told her this was a fucking stupid idea, but noooo she believed the evidence that Ron Weasley had pointed out to her. And had decided to confront that blasted three headed dog, not thinking to conjure some sort of musical instrument with her after the anvil size hint that great oaf Hagrid had given them awhile back.

Harry knew he shouldn't think so poorly of the gamekeeper, the man did try to be nice (when he wasn't kissing the headmaster's arse), but the gamekeeper clearly lacked brains. Also, seriously, buying a dragon's egg? How was that smart? Unlike, Hermione and Ron, at least he had enough common sense to tell a staff member.

Professor Flitwick seemed just as annoyed as Harry did about Norbert. Ron, was annoyed that Harry, had tattled. Apparently, that wasn't something that the Boy Who Lived did.

Boy Who Lived.

He was still getting used to that moniker. He hated it. Hated how the wizarding world had this big idea that he was some foolish Gryffindor.

"It's probably the Harry Potter books." Daphne had told him when he complained about it earlier. "You really need to hire a solicitor, Potter. You're missing out on a lot of royalties. Might I recommend my mother."

He did take her up on that advice. And Mrs. Greengrass had been making a lot of headway getting those God-awful books pulled, but that still didn't effect how people viewed him like Ron Weasley.

And it was only because of Hermione that he was in this hot mess.

He didn't know why he was a good friend.

Probably because you had no friends before this year, a voice in the back of his head said. He inwardly cringed as he thought about his childhood at the Dursleys. Needless to say, being raised by Petunia and Vernon hadn't given him a lot of friendship opportunities and he had thought Hermione was a pretty good friend.

However, this really was the final straw, he thought as he muttered a charm to play the harp someone had apparently conjured—he wasn't guessing Hermione or that moronic redhead since they had both standing there about to be Fluffy chow.

"Seriously, Hermione." He snapped at her.

The girl looked at him, "Oh, thank Merlin, Harry. I forgot the charm to get the harp to play. I think Fluffy took me by more surprised than I originally thought. I know I've read about Cerberus's before, but it's so different in real life. You know."

He ignored inwardly cringing at the three-headed dog's name. It had three heads. It should've had three names as far as Harry was concerned, but schematics. "You're going back to your house now."

"No, Harry," Hermione said. "Snape is after the stone. Someone clearly conjured the harp here. We have to stop him."

"We can tell a responsible adult." Harry said, "You don't want to get another detention, do you, Hermione?"

He knew that had to sting. The whole Norbert debacle had cost her and Ron fifty points each from Gryffindor house, costing them the lead in the house cup. This in particular, made Daphne and Blaise both giddy. Personally, Harry thought the house cup was a bit idiotic, but didn't say anything. He was just glad (again) that he is in a neutral house.

Though, Hermione wouldn't talk to him for a week afterwards since he had apparently snitched on her to Professor Flitwick.

Harry didn't see it as snitching though, just not wanting the gamekeeper to lose his home by a fire-breathing dragon. But again, schematics.

"We don't have time, Harry." Weasley said. "We have to get the stone now. Hermione and I are going, and you're not going to snitch on us."

Harry rolled his eyes. "There's snitching, and then there's just doing the right thing. Meaning, not being an idiot. I'd prefer not to be an idiot, but hey by all means go through that trap door and die. I did my part saving you from the…"

"Petrificus Totalis."'

Fucking Ron Weasley, he thought as he had been hit with the petrifaction curse. Though, as much as he was cursing Ron he was equally cursing himself. He should've known better and had his guard up, but there he was lying down on the floor next to the drooling three headed dog.

"I'm sorry, mate." Ron said, "But we got to stop Snape. I can't have you snitching."

"Ronald, was that really necessary?"

God, he hoped Hermione would stun the bastard.

But of course she didn't. Instead, she brought up the shit Ron said. Harry was really going to have to rethink being her friend. He knew people could make some stupid choices—but come on.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Hermione finally said after berating Ron. "But we need to find out what's going on with the stone. You'll be fine."

She then headed down the hole where Ron had stepped down into minutes before where Ron was yelling about being trapped.

It was Devil's Snare he soon heard from their voices as he struggled with his current position.

Being trapped here like this gave him flashbacks of his childhood of being locked in the cupboard. Trapped.

How Harry had hated being locked in that tiny, dark room. It wasn't the darkness that bothered him. Harry actually liked the dark. There was something unnaturally comforting about darkness. However, being locked in a little room, not being able to move, it reminded him too much of his fucking cupboard.

Fucking Dursleys.

As an eleven-year-old, he knew he probably used that word too much. If Aunt Petunia had ever heard him say it, he'd get hit with the fryer pan for sure. However, sometimes an expletive served a purpose such as now.

He tried to remember what he could recall about full body binds. Obviously, the spell didn't require much if an imbecile like Weasley was able to cast it. Therefore, it should be easy to break.

After all, it was the very basics of magical theory: magic is only as strong as the caster. Of course there were caveats that could make a spell stronger—familiar magic, runes, aids through potions, or through the seasonal cycles. But this was just a simple jinx.

A jinx casted by an idiot.

Harry knew he should be able to break it. He knew the counter curse, but it wasn't like he could cast it…well, at least in the traditional way.

Magical theory said with enough free will, one could be able to break most spells. Of course, there were caveats. The killing curse, for example, was something you couldn't really will away. But the imperius curse was. A simple curse like a body bind, Harry thought he should be able to will away if the drive was there.

And Merlin knows, he wanted to break free. Still, as much as Harry tried to say the incantation in his head, he wasn't having much luck. He shouldn't have been too surprised. He had found that magic, in general, worked different for him than his other peers. Wands were supposed to be a way to channel and focus magic, but Harry found his wand to be a hindrance if anything. While he could perform spells with his stick, it just felt wrong. Much like the incantations. He felt like he shouldn't need to say them. That his powers, well, his powers usually relied much more on his intent and emotions.

Maybe that was the problem.

Maybe he was thinking about the incantation too much and not the intent. He had a similar problem in Transfiguration earlier this year.

A few seconds later, her found the body bind loosening as he heard a scream.

Hermione!

Harry then did something he shouldn't have done, he ran and jumped down that trapped door.

The Devil's Snare was gone, or it hadn't grown back yet from when Hermione had destroyed it with a fire spell earlier.

Harry was sort of annoyed with himself for being so rash, but he ignored it. As annoyed as he was with Hermione, she was still his friend and if she was in real danger, he might not have time to find Flitwick or someone responsible.

Besides, he sort of wanted to curse Ron Weasley when he saw him. If that idiot called him mate one more time…

He was thinking this when he opened the door and saw what laid in front of him there seemed to be several enchanted keys above him and on the ground laid Ron Weasley—who seemed to have idiotically gotten on a broomstick and ended up with a key or keys in the back and was unconscious due to crashing on the hard stone ground. He was still breathing—Harry was slightly upset about this.

Of course, this was what had caused Hermione to start screaming.

Harry shook his head as he saw her, "Seriously?"

"How?" She asked.

"How did I get out of your idiot friend's body bind?" Harry said, "Simple wandless magic. If you spent as much time reading magical theory as you did reading Hogwarts A History, you'd understand that magic can be casted wandlessly."

"I have read magical theory books you know that…" Hermione shut up getting the hint, "I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. Obviously."

"Yes, obviously." Harry said. "How did Weasley end up bludgeoned."

"It was awful," Hermione said. "He grabbed one of those brooms to grab the key and he ended up hurt."

"Did he grab the key?" Harry asked.

"No," She said. "The keys attacked him before he was able too. I should've known he wouldn't have been able to do it. He did okay in our flying lessons, but he isn't as good as he says he is. Can you fly a broom, Harry?"

Yes, he could fly. Madam Hooch said he was a natural and should join the school team next year, but honestly Harry felt inhibited when it came to flying with a broom. Which was ridiculous. But he didn't tell this to Hermione instead he said, "I think the brooms are a red herring."

"A red herring, really?"

"Ever heard of the summoning charm?" Harry asked.

"That's a fourth year charm," Hermione said.

"And this is an obstacle course that is suppose to prevent a thief from taking a priceless artifact. I doubt that they care if a couple of first years would be able to handle a summoning charm."

"Well, that's bullocks then, we can't stop the stone from being stolen."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I really think someone is trying to take the stone, Harry." Hermione said, "I know you're arguments are sound but…"

"Regardless, we're going to have to move forward with this charade." Harry said, "Especially since he's bleeding. Enchanted harp playing or not, I do not like our chances with a Cerberus when it can smell blood."

Hermione gulped. "So, how are you planning on getting the key then?"

Harry frowned, "I've actually practiced ahead a little."

He then muttered the summoning charm and one of the keys that was lodged in Ron's back flew into his hand.

"Ew," He said as he muttered a quick cleaning charm. "That was nasty."

Hermione's response was that she vomited on the floor. "We have to help him. Harry do you know any healing charms?"

"Can't say I do," Harry said. "But we should be able to fasten some sort of tourniquet to stop the bleeding until we can get help."

"Oh God," Hermione said, "A tourniquet, I think I remember that. Yes, Mum and Dad made sure I took a First Aid class. I even know CPR."

"That's good," Harry said inwardly noting she might need to use it on Weasley. "The key was quite bloody. Quite frankly, he wasn't sure how much good the tourniquet was going to do him at this point. "Get him set up and then catch up with me. I figure the faster we figure out this mess of an obstacle course the quicker we can get help."

Hermione nodded, as Harry proceeded to see the next task in front of him which was a life sized chess board of all things.

Obviously, he was meant to play.

Harry had no time to waste. So, he did it the fast way. The challenge was obviously McGonogall's, so he merely cancelled the transfiguration spells on the chess pieces. Leaving it to be a regular chess set that was ridiculously smaller.

He rolled his eyes, wondering what sort of challenge this was. Anyone who knew basic transfiguration should be able to how to undo the enchantments. It was after all one of the basic rules of transfiguration, what can be transfigured can be reverted to its natural form.

As soon as he made it across the room he noticed it. The pungent smell. He had only smelt that smell once before on Halloween: a troll.

Well, that explained the random troll in the dungeon episode, he thought, as he tried to figure out where the beast was.

He found out soon enough, the troll seemed to be knocked out already. So, someone was down here. That was surprising.

He had really thought this whole thing was bullshit. However, someone besides Ron and Hermione had bought this whole Philosopher's Stone rubbish. He frowned not knowing who he was going to deal with. He doubted it was Professor Snape. For one thing, he knew his cantankerous Potions teacher enough to know that he would've just outright killed the troll rather than knocking him out. And for that matter, Snape would've covered his tracks. Not left an unconscious troll in the hallway. Regardless, Harry hurried past the beast wanting to get to the next challenge.

Which was Snape's.

And it was as dumb as the rest. A freaking riddle to pick up a potion so you could walk through fire. Obviously, Snape didn't realize you could cast the same charm on you that all those witches did during the witch trials and be fine.

At least that's what Harry did. Which lead him to yet another room without an exit.

The only thing in this room was a mirror. Harry recognized that mirror enough; he had seen it around Christmas.

He remembered he encountered the headmaster when he saw said mirror in what he was more than sure what a setup.

"Ah, I see you have found the Mirror of Erised, my boy."

There something distinctly creepy about the headmaster. Harry didn't know what it was exactly about Dumbledore that bothered him. He had barely interacted with the man, and he seemed nice enough. He guessed. But there was just something off putting about him.

And Harry always had a headache whenever he was around him, much like he had a headache when Snape was around him.

"Is that what the mirror is?" Harry asked since he guessed he was supposed to have some sort of reaction. It was obvious Dumbledore was prying for something. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know that.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "Tell me, Harry, what do you see when you look at the mirror?"

"A malnourished eleven-year-old." He snapped.

"You haven't looked in the mirror then?" Dumbledore said ignoring Harry's self-assessment of his physical health.

It was true though. The Dursleys didn't really provide him with adequate meals. Or really adequate anything, really. Not that anyone cared to ask him about his home life. The fact that Dumbledore was obvious to his comments was a testament to this.

"No," Harry said, "Should I? Obviously, you're keen on having a conversation about it."

"I would advise you not to look at said mirror," Dumbledore said. "I believe that looking in it would cause you too much pain."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The mirror shows us our deepest desires," Dumbledore said, "I see myself with socks."

"Socks?" Harry said, "Socks are your deepest desire?"

He sense that that was a lie. Okay, he knew that was a lie. Whose deepest desire was fucking socks?

"Every year for Christmas I hope I get socks and no one…"

Harry tuned out the obvious lie as he glanced in the mirror. He had never seen even a photograph of his parents, and was interested in seeing at least how they looked. He really didn't care about Dumbledore's warning. The man obviously had planned this meeting.

Harry was surprised though, when he didn't see the image he thought of when he thought of his parents. Rather, than a red haired woman with brilliant green eyes, he saw a dark blonde woman with fearsome looking gray eyes wearing a long flowing gown. There was something familiar about the way she looked, Harry could quite pinpoint what it was. He did notice that her ears were like his. Next to her was a handsome dark headed man with startling violet eyes. Like the woman, there was something familiar that he couldn't quit pinpoint. Harry couldn't focus on them for too long though, because Dumbledore soon ended his rant and Harry knew he better not be caught looking in the mirror.

"Now, that you know what the mirror does, I can't have you tempted. I'll be moving it shortly." Dumbledore said.

Whatever. Like Harry cared. Instead, he wondered who the couple was in the mirror. He wanted to see his parents, but the man and woman in the mirror clearly weren't Lily or Jams Potter.

Or at least he hadn't cared too much until now coming face to face with the mirror again.

He supposed there had to be some sort of riddle to all of this. His deepest desire though right now was to get out of here in one piece alive. He knew whoever had knocked out the troll had to be around here somewhere.

"So you we.. ..were interested in the stone after all?"

"Professor Quirrell?"

Now that actually caught Harry off guard.

He hadn't really given much thought to his bumbling seemingly moronic Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had made him do what he thought was impossible—hate garlic. Also, he made Defense Against the Dark Arts almost as boring as History of Magic.

"Let me guess, you thought I'd be Professor Snape?" The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor asked surprisingly not stuttering for once. Maybe the stuttering was an act. It wouldn't surprise Harry at this point.

"No," Harry said, "Snape would be smart enough to dispose of the troll properly. It will wake up at some point and probably club you and me."

"He does have a point," A voice said from the back of Quirrell's turban.

"Merlin, you're possessed." Harry said, "This day keeps getting better and better."

"I am not p….pp…possessed." Quirrell said. "I am merely sharing my body with my lord."

"Sounds like possession to me," Harry said, "You do realize you'll likely die or have some sort of serious damage once said entity leaves you? It's feeding on your magical core to stay alive. That's not a good thing, professor. Obviously, you did not study magical theory and you call yourself a Ravenclaw."

Harry inwardly grimaced. He usually wasn't loquacious. But he was just trying to buy himself some time to figure out something.

Like maybe the magical mirror would open up and take him out of here.

Well, no. Dumbledore just said the mirror was an illusion. Like now, he was seeing those strangers in the mirror again. That man and the woman dressed in those strange outfits, while seeing them again peeked his interest it wasn't helping matters.

The only way either of those people would be any use to him is if they were here to stop whatever Quirrell was planning on doing to him—which based on how he was acting probably was going to be something worse than the troll.

"Let me speak to him, Quirrell." The entity said.

"Master, you're not strong enough!" Quirrell said but eventually relented since he was peeling his turban off a minute later. As he was distracted, Harry aimed a stunning spell, but Quirrell managed to step aside right in the knick of time as he turned around to reveal his other face.

"We meet again at last, Harry Potter." The entity said.

Harry frowned as he looked at the face. There was nothing recognizable about it, and it was definitely a face he would recognize. From the red eyes to the snake like nose, the face was definitely not human. "Harry Potter," It Hissed, "See what I've become because of you."

It didn't take long to put two and two together. The entity was obviously Voldemort.

"I thought you were dead," Harry stated.

"Obviously, you weren't told how powerful I am." The entity said. "You're not what I expected."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Besides one night where you killed my parents and tried to kill me, we never met. So, I don't see how you could really have that much in terms of expectations."

"Quirrell does tell me some about his lessons," Voldemort said. "I find it interesting you weren't sorted into Gryffindor like both your foolish parents."

"I like to read. So what?"

Voldemort ignored him, "You are very studious. Quiet. I almost expected you not to come. What changed?"

"Fortune and glory?" Harry said quoting a muggle movie about some archeologist that Dudley loved. A movie he was pretty sure Voldmort had never seen (hopefully).

"Sorry, I'm not convinced." Voldemort said before he added, "Yet, I can't see into your mind which is very unfortunate. Such intense skills for one so young. Especially for one who grew up with filthy muggles."

Harry inwardly frowned; he didn't know what Voldemort was talking about. He wasn't going to act confused though. Let Vodemort think he was powerful; maybe he could use it to escape.

"You're not going to tell me how you learned occulumency, Potter?"

Occulumency. Note, if he lived he needed to look that up.

"Care to tell me how you got stuck on the backside of Quirrell's head. I'd imagine you'd get motion sickness seeing everything backwards."

Voldemort didn't seem to be amused, "I'll show you how I deal with cheek, Potter. Crucio!"

An intense pain came over Harry. He had never felt anything like this. Not even when his aunt had hit him with the frying pan and he had seen stars for days afterwards. Not even after Dudley and all of his friends beat him into a bloody pulp. Not even that one time where Uncle Vernon had threw him in the cupboard and his body slammed against the wall. This was something else. This pain was intense, like knives were being thrown at his body and simultaneously hitting him at the same time. At one point, it felt like he was having an almost out of body experience. He could hear himself screaming, but his screams didn't feel like his. All through it, he begged for someone help him and then he knew no more.

Chapter 2 Preview: I currently have a Rhys POV written up but it will likely be heavily revised. Its likely going to cover the following the fall out from having his bond with Feyre irrevocably broken, the state of things in the Fae world, and a possible heir bond. Stay tuned.