Hellooooo?
You still alive out there? I am sorry this took a while, but as I said, I've been on holiday. Had a marvellous time, and decided that tonight I would finish this chapter, no matter how long it would take. So I've been sitting writing for pretty much three hours straight. I might fall asleep any minute...

Anyway. It feels good to have got this chapter up here now, and I hope you all like it. If you spot any spelling mistakes or other faults, please tell me and I will correct them. I've been up since seven, so I'm a bit mental at the moment.

In some ways this chapter was kicking my arse. Not sure if I like Snape here, but I will wait and see what you think. What do you think of Harry's insistent wandering? ;) He's curious, what can I say.

Enjoy!

Ivy

Harry gave the professor a suspicious look but did as he was told and sat down on the couch. Snape seemed to be struggling with how to begin, and Harry itched to ask him what this was all about. He didn't, however, as he didn't like the mood Snape seemed to be in and he wasn't sure if he was off the hook for earlier yet. He sat on his hands and banged his heels noiselessly on the legs of the piece of furniture while he waited apprehensively for the Professor to start speaking.

"We need to get a few things… sorted out," professor Snape eventually said, looking at the boy with a slightly furrowed brow.

"Okay," Harry said timidly, not actually sure he should have answered at all.

"Do you remember that I told you before to forget everything your relatives had said to you?" Snape asked. Harry did remember, but didn't quite see the logic. If he went back, he'd have to hear it all over again, so what was the point, really?

"Yes," he nodded anyway, feeling more and more curious by the second. Snape cleared his throat quietly, and didn't look the same as he used to. His face was softer, almost. Well, that was the only way Harry could think of describing it.

"I meant that."

"Okay..." Harry already knew this. Snape didn't seem like a man who said things he didn't mean.

"Professor Dumbledore… And several other people," he added, including himself silently, "Believe that you need to be moved." Why am I speaking of the child like he's an object? Snape asked himself.

"Moved?" Harry asked with confusion in his young voice.

"It is obvious you are not… living comfortably with your relatives, and it was never the intention of the Headmaster to have you staying with people who didn't want you." The forehead of the small boy creased. "Of course, if you want to stay with your aunt, no one can-"

"No!" Harry interrupted, disregarding all manners. "No, I won't go back, I won't!" In his exasperation he stood up, his glasses ending up askew on his nose.

"You don't have to," Snape replied. "Now sit down." The order was firm, and Harry immediately dropped back onto the couch, completely deflated.

"I don't?" He said weakly.

"No," Snape said, shaking his head ever so slightly. "It is quite clear you were not being taken care of properly, and something will be done about it." Harry thought for a moment.

"But I haven't a family," he pointed out. "I have nowhere to go." Now he got scared. So he was allowed to leave the Dursley's. But Snape obviously didn't know he didn't have any other family. He had nowhere to live, nowhere at all!

"We are aware of this, Mr Potter," Snape said curtly. "But other arrangements have been made. We will take your opinion into account, of course, but it is for the… best." Snape had trouble convincing the boy of this, as he was yet to be completely convinced himself.

"Oh…" Harry didn't fully understand, but was so glad he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursley's he broke into a small smile. Snape frowned.

"What are you smirking about?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing… Sir," he added at Snape's glare. The dour professor didn't seem entirely convinced but apparently didn't think it was worth dwelling upon.

"Conniving lies may have worked with your Uncle, young man, but do not insult me by trying to do the same to me." Harry turned a light pink and didn't answer. "You should know that it is the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, that has decided what should be done in this situation." Harry fidgeted in his seat and frowned a bit, scrunching up his pale forehead. Snape's way of speaking was strange. He seemed often to go on for a while, and then in the end not actually having said what he wanted. To make sure Snape knew he was actually listening, Harry gave a small nod.

"As you are only eight years old, it-"

"Almost nine," Harry couldn't help but put in.

"I beg your pardon?" The boy flushed.

"I'm almost nine," he repeated, in an even lower voice.

"I am perfectly aware of your age, boy," Snape hissed. "Now stop your insolent interruptions and let me speak." Harry sat silently, staring down at his tightly clasped hands. Stop it, he whined at himself. You dealt with the Dursleys, and Snape isn't that bad. Letting out a wavering breath he felt his body relax a bit.

"It has been decided," Snape began again, and this time he looked a bit thoughtful himself, but still with the same rigid posture as before. Harry was sure he never relaxed completely. Did he sleep sitting up? "Are you listening?" Harry's head snapped up to meet the professor, whose eyes were stormy and menacing again.

"Yes, sir," he hurried to say. Snape seemed to doubt this, but said no more.

"It has been decided – by the Headmaster – that you will live with me." Harry heard these words as if through a tube, and for a moment he didn't know at all what to do. "Don't give me that look, Mr Potter," Snape chided immediately. "If you prefer, you can always go back to-"

"No!" he interrupted desperately. "No, no I don't want to go to them again! I won't, I won't!"

"Calm down, you impudent child," Snape said sharply, demanding immediate obedience. "You have no objections?" Harry frowned for a moment, quite unsure of what to say. After a mere few seconds, though, he shook his head.

"No, it's okay," he said, feeling rather surprised that his opinion had been asked at all.

"Very well," Snape said, as if that completely settled the matter. "I have another thing I feel is… imperative we discuss." Harry felt it would be rude to point out that they never "discussed"; even though he'd only known Snape for a very short time, he had noticed that with him – Harry – Snape only held monologues. It was a bit strange, he thought, the way Snape had immediately dropped the subject of his living with him. It seemed, to Harry, that they should speak more of it. "I am aware that you were not treated… fairly at your Aunt and Uncle's." Harry blushed a bit. "However, I do not know in what way they mistreated you. No one is forcing you to talk about it, but I also want you to be well aware that there will be rules here." Harry hadn't doubted this for a moment, especially since Snape had been very firm when he'd said he wouldn't accept any "disrespect or disobedience".

"Okay…" he said slowly, as Snape was looking at him like he was expecting some sort of acknowledgement of Harry's understanding.

"First of all," Snape began, straightening in his chair and assuming what Harry would later call his lecturing-stance. "You will be polite and civil towards everyone in this castle. I will be very displeased if any of the staff here at Hogwarts should ever inform me of you being disrespectful in any way." Harry supposed that was fair, though the prospect unnerved him a bit. He didn't know exactly what Snape considered to be disrespectful, and hoped sincerely he would not slip up with this rule.

"While we are here at Hogwarts, you will not wander around the castle or the grounds. There are a lot of places where you could get either lost or hurt, and I haven't the time to run around looking for you every day." He gave Harry a pointed look, and the boy looked down with slight shame on his face. The professor went on, carefully covering everything; giving Harry a bedtime (eight!), telling him where he could be at certain times, telling him he was never, ever allowed in Snape's room or his potions lab, and should he ever be found in there he would most certainly not like the consequences. He spoke of how they should lay out their everyday lives, and of how Harry had to tell him if he needed anything or if he saw anything strange and so on. Harry had no idea how the man could think everything, but he grew more and more agitated as Snape continued to pretty much prohibit anything that would list under the category fun.

"Apart from that I want you to get up at seven thirty every day, have a shower and come for breakfast. No pyjamas at the table, I expect to see you fully dressed." Harry fidgeted and tried not to sigh with impatience. "You will not be permitted to eat those vile buns for breakfast. As a growing boy you need to eat properly, understood?" Harry nodded, picking at a loose thread on his trousers. "We might add to the list as we go along," he said finally, and Harry relaxed visibly, causing the man to raise an eyebrow.

"There is another matter of which we need to speak." Harry looked expectantly into Severus' dark eyes. "A lot of supposed experts would disagree with me… us, telling you this, but the Headmaster wants you to know of it as early as possible." He paused, regarding the boy for a moment. "You know your mother and father were killed." Harry felt sadness well up into his stomach and he bit the inside of his cheek, nodding. "The dark wizard who did it also tried to kill you." Harry's eyebrows shot up under his fringe, and the sadness in his eyes mingled with confusion. "Your… mother…" Snape faltered slightly, and for a moment Harry felt the urge to try and comfort him. It was the strangest sensation: that he, as a child, would feel compelled to comfort a fully grown man. It was only a split second later, though, that he regained composure and continued. "Your mother gave her life for you."

"What-"

"It means that she died to protect you," Snape said quickly. "When the Dark Lord tried to kill you with the curse, she stood in between. Because of her sacrifice, he could not murder you as well." Harry had no idea what to think. It was advanced magic explained in a simple way, which might've made it even more confusing. "The scar you have on your head…" Harry touched it absentmindedly. "It is the only visible mark you have of this attempt at murder. It is possible that is has certain… abilities, let's say, but that is yet to be seen." Harry scratched at the back of his hand, thinking of the Dursleys explanation of the scar. That he'd hit his head on something in the car crash. He felt so… so angry with them, and didn't know what to do with the emotion. It would hardly do to lose control completely with Snape there.

"You will notice, as time goes, that most wizards and witches you meet will know who you are."

"How?" he asked simply in a quiet and, in his opinion, pathetic voice.

"What happened that night killed the Dark Lord," Snape said, though he felt the words hitch in his throat as it was a slight lie.

"He's not here anymore?" Harry said, feeling some sort of pride at this.

"Not at the moment," Snape answered mysteriously. "A lot of people are under the impression that you defeated him."

"I did?" This was truly astonishing.

"Not exactly. It is a bit complicated, and I think we will leave it at that." Harry nodded, not at all content with this brief account, but decided to ask Snape more about it later. And maybe Professor Dumbledore as well, at some point. "Are you all right?" The question was forced, but Harry wasn't sure if it was actual concern he could hear in his voice.

"Yes, I'm all right," he answered. "Fine…" Snape frowned a bit, but shook his head.

"Now then." He stood suddenly, and Harry stared up at him, the surprise quite evident in his eyes. "Before we do anything else, you really need to meet the rest of the staff at the school." This made the boy brighten up considerably, and he stood up without hesitation. "Come along." Snape strode straight for the door, and Harry scampered after him, feeling very excited to meet more wizards and witches.

"Well, Mr Harry Potter." Inside the first door stood an old woman, quite tall and with a rather strict expression. Her mouth looked almost as if she'd got a mouthful of lemon juice in it and she was forcing herself not to grimace. She had small glasses perched on her nose, encircling her greenish grey eyes. The grey brown hair under her pointy hat was pulled into a bun at the base of her neck and she was wearing a long, heavy-looking dress in dark blue and black. "I see nothing could hold you away from this wonderful school." She smiled, and it changed her face completely. "I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House," he said, holding out a nimble and slightly wrinkled hand. Harry took it shyly and shook it once before she let go.

"I felt he should meet the staff," Snape said, and Harry noted instantly that Snape had adopted a rather chilled voice, one he had only heard when he had first met the professor. It scared him a little bit, but he looked at Professor McGonagall instead.

"That is probably wise," the woman answered, her voice also a bit different from before. The boy frowned, wondering why the two seemed to be so hostile towards each other. Then she turned to Harry again, and smiled warmly. "You look very much like your father, young man," she said with equal warmth and Harry turned a bit pink with pleasure. He had yet to see any picture of his father, but he was glad that he looked like him. "Except your eyes, of course." Harry felt Snape stiffen next to him, but he kept staring at the older witch. "They're just like your mother's," she continued softly, and threw a quick glance at Snape.

"Really?" he squeaked. She nodded.

"Really. How are you finding Hogwarts?" she asked him, and Harry was so struck by her actually talking to him that it took him a moment to remember how to speak. It wasn't until Snape nudged him slightly that he blinked and realised she had asked him a question.

"Sorry… It's amazing," he said with shining eyes. "I went out before and…" He fell quiet when he realised he had just brought up the last time he had ended up in Professor Snape's bad books and didn't feel like he could continue. Fortunately, McGonagall didn't seem to mind.

"Yes it is quite astonishing. It shall be interesting to see what House you will be placed in when you start studying here." Harry beamed up at her, and couldn't stop smiling even when they left in search for the others.

"What did she mean by what House I'll be in?" Harry asked Snape as they made their way towards the next professor on Snape's mental list.

"All students are sorted into Houses," Snape explained, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be annoyed by all questions the boy posed. "There are four; Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Depending on what you are like as a person, you will end up in one of them."

"But why?" Harry asked with his forehead creased as he did very often lately. Snape sighed.

"To ensure that all students are in an environment where they will meet and be close to people who are somewhat similar to them. Each House has a Common room and a set of dorms. It is a place for students to relax." That was where the explanation stopped, and Harry was still not completely sure he understood. It didn't matter though, as they had reached another door, on which Snape placed three rapid knocks. It soon opened, and Harry was surprised to stand face to face with an old man who was just about as tall as him.

"Harry, this is Professor Filius Flitwick." The man smiled up at him.

"Harry Potter! Well this is certainly an honour. As Professor Snape said, Filius Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw and Charms professor." Harry shook his hand, mesmerised by the man's expressive face and miniature clothes.

"Hello," he said after a moment. Flitwick gave Snape a strange look, and the taller of the two twitched slightly with his head, to which the older and shorter man nodded once.

"Well, how old are you now young man? Nine, ten?"

"Eight, but almost nine," Harry replied quietly.

"Ah. Two more years then. It certainly will be very interesting to see you walking these corridors as a student. Your parents were both fine wizards. Quite gifted, I must say." It was thrilling Harry immensely to hear these professors speak so warmly of his late parents.

They continued their walk, and met Professors Sprout (who offered Harry a chocolate biscuit which he gladly nibbled on, even though Snape declined the offer and looked thoroughly displeased while Harry ate his), Trelawney (who shrieked when she saw Harry and seemed to tremble during their entire visit, while Snape couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes behind her back), Sinistra, Grubblyplank and last, but by accident, and he wasn't a professor, Rubeus Hagrid.

"Harry? Harry Potter! Well I never. I haven' seen you since you was this small," he said, holding his giant hands about a foot apart. "Tiny you was. Took you from Godric's Hollow to yer relatives. Terrible that was. And why are you with Snape?" he asked eventually, only then realising the dour professor standing right next to Harry.

"There have been certain changes in Harry's living arrangements," Snape said in that same cold voice he had used with McGonagall. Harry frowned, getting a bit annoyed with all their strange relationships. Hagrid's eyes grew big.

"He's livin' with you? No! No, Dumbledore wouldn't-"

"The Headmaster was the one who suggested it," Snape interrupted, clamping a hand down on Harry's bony shoulder. "Actually, he insisted on it. I can't say I was overly thrilled at first by the prospect of having James Potter's whelp living under my roof, but what is there to do?" This was the first time Harry had heard Snape speaking like this about Harry's father, and he realised later that it was a mistake on Snape's part. He had never intended to let Harry know of his dislike towards James, as however much he liked to think differently, he didn't want the boy to hate him. He'd had enough of that before.

"I've met you before?" Harry asked, cocking his head to one side and looking up at the fuzzy beard covering the half-giant's face.

"Oh, yes you 'ave," Hagrid beamed. "Almos' eight years ago, mind, but yeah." Harry smiled, too, already liking this person. He was the complete opposite of Snape, and he hoped he would see a lot of him while he lived with Snape.

The hand on his shoulder tightened and began steering Harry back towards the stairs to the dungeons.

"We must be going," Snape said firmly.

"Bye, Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, finding somewhere the courage to say goodbye. Hagrid was still smiling as he waved at the boy.

"Waste of time," Snape growled as the continued leading the boy back down to the cold of the dungeons. He was pushed into Snape's quarters and the door was almost slammed behind him. Snape was, for some reason, in a rather foul mood, and Harry kept very quiet as the man rummaged about for something or other. Catching Harry's eye, he pointed at the couch, and Harry scurried over and sat down.

"I will need to go and work soon," Snape informed him. "I don't want you destroying all my possessions while I am gone, understood?" Harry nodded.

"Yes, sir." This was the standard answer with Snape. Harry didn't mind; it was easy to remember and say quickly, and Snape always seemed pleased with it.

"Go on in to your room," he said then, yet again with a different kind of tone. This one was quiet, almost bordering on soft, and Harry came to recognise it as one where he was thinking of something else. Glad to be alone for a bit, he jumped off the couch and strolled into what had become his room and sat on the bed, his legs folded up under him. His head full of the new information, he began thinking of the rules Snape had spoken of only hours earlier. It didn't seem like they were anything like the ridiculous and impossible ones the Dursleys had set for him, but he felt a tad nervous anyway. Snape had said nothing more than that failing to follow the rules would have consequences. Harry hadn't dared to ask what they'd be, but he couldn't help his wondering. Of course, his new guardian's recent rebuke was a slight hint, but Harry had no experience with this kind of authority. With his relatives, he'd just try to stay out of their way, and run and hide should they be angry with him for some reason.

The rules had, in any case, made him realise two things. Firstly, they'd made the whole thing real. He wasn't going back to his relatives (muggles, Snape had called them and Harry had sniggered under his breath), ever, and Snape would adopt him. The boy had a vague idea of what this ultimately meant and felt slightly warm inside at the thought of it. Secondly, they had made him aware of the fact that even though Snape had been kind enough to rescue him (a great rescue and a relieving escape was what it was to Harry), he was obviously a busy and, perhaps more importantly for Harry, strict man. It was clear that he wouldn't like any silliness or fooling about on Harry's part (and probably not on anyone else's part either).

Harry bit his lower lip and furrowed his brow in deep concentration as he tried to make sense of it all. Snape had also said something like "creating a routine" for everyday life. To a boy of almost nine years, this seemed terribly much like being put in a cage. At the Dursleys, he'd had practically no freedom at all, and for some reason he had thought it would change for the better now. It was better, of course, but he was most likely going to be kept on a shorter lead than he would like.

As he thought of these particular depressing pictures, there was a sharp rap on the door before it swung open. In strode Professor Snape, obviously, looking dark and a bit menacing as always. This was the first time Harry realised that the professor liked a bit like a bat. But his hooked nose was definitely more like a bird's beak. This extracted a small giggle from him, and Snape raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"And what is it you find so amusing?" Harry straightened up and did his best to look placid.

"Nothing," he said quietly, glancing pleadingly up at the man through his fringe.

"Keep in mind, young man, that I do not care for dishonesty." He doesn't like anything that begins with the letters dis, Harry thought pensively, before nodding vigorously at the professor's ominous words.

"Yes, sir." Snape snorted before he spoke again.

"As I said, I have work I need to attend to," he announced. "For a while, you will have to be alone when I work. In time, I will find someone to watch you." Harry grimaced ever so slightly at the mention of a babysitter, but checked himself in a split second. He doubted Snape liked grimacing and pouting. Come to think of it, there wasn't much at all that Snape liked. Not even chocolate biscuits!

"I want you to stay here and not cause any trouble. You may go into the living room if you wish, but stay out of my rooms, remember? You have toys to play with and books to read, so it shouldn't be a problem. If you really need me…" He fished out a silver chain on which there was a small, silver oval plate, engraved with an S. "Press the plate between your thumb and index finger." He put the chain around the boy's wrist and made sure it was securely fastened. "And I mean it when I say to use it if you really need me. Emergencies only. Understood?" Harry nodded and shook his hand so he could see the S, the silver glinting in the scant light from the lantern on the wall. Snape pulled out his pocket watch.

"I really must go. So stay here and out of trouble. Is that perfectly clear?" Harry nodded, still looking at the chain around his wrist. Seconds later, he felt cold, slim fingers under his chin, forcing him to look up at his guardian.

"I said, is that clear?" Snape repeated in a lot, stern voice.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied automatically, not able to enforce his understanding with a nod as the professor was still holding his chin in place.

"Good boy," Snape said, and Harry raised his eyebrows at the praise. The man acknowledged nothing of this gesture, but just turned around and strode out of the room. The child sighed and flung back onto the bed, staring straight up without really registering what he was seeing. It was quite surprising, he thought, how quickly he was getting used to everything. And he hasn't questioned any of it, for several reasons: Snape would probably not like it, he didn't mind leaving the Dursleys (at all), he wasn't sure what to question, and so on. For a moment, he pictured Snape as his dad. They might live in a small house somewhere, with a garden. Maybe they could have a dog to take for walks. And go to cricket and rugby matches like Dudley and Uncle Vernon did sometimes. Or did wizards do that? He'd have to look into it.

After he'd let these pleasant thoughts circulate in his head for a while, he changed course unconsciously. Thinking about what kind of person Snape was, he didn't think it was likely that they'd live in a nice house, with a playful dog and a pretty garden. Harry liked gardens. When he'd been gardening at his relatives, he was all alone and could play all he wanted. Quietly and carefully, of course, but still. They rarely ever came into the garden, and so it had become his very own playground. Winters were usually a horror, as the bitter weather would keep him inside and hide away his lawn and flowerbeds until the spring.

Huffing a bit, he sat up and got off the bed, looking around. It was the first time he'd been left all on his own, and he felt a bit lost. What would he do? Just a few moments later he decided he would look around in Snape's quarters. Though he supposed they were sort of his now, too. It felt nice to have somewhere that might actually feel like home after he'd settled in. He wondered fleetingly if they would live there all the time, and found himself not really minding. Hogwarts' grounds seemed amazing, and he was certain he would be able to explore for years before he knew all of it. Then again, considering the size of the place, it was probable that he would never know all of it.

All these things went through his head as he wandered out of his room and into the living area. Everything was still in there, and the silence felt incredibly heavy, pressing on his ears. He looked around at all the paintings. Upon looking at the wall opposite him, he spotted a photograph. He could see it was of a person, and that is was moving, but that was it. The small size and the fact that it was the only photo he's seen in the room caught his attention. He trotted over to it and looked carefully at it. As the paintings all moved, he wasn't too surprised that the photos did too.

It was of a young woman, sitting on the ground and leaning against the thick trunk of a tree. She looked to be about fifteen or sixteen and was wearing a school uniform of some sort, with the top buttons undone and the tie loosened lazily. Her hair was a startling red, pulled back from her face by a hair band. She was looking right at the camera, her green eyes bright in the sunshine, and she was laughing and waving, sometimes tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear in a nervous and self-conscious sort of way. In a kind of trance Harry waved at her. Unlike the paintings he'd seen, she didn't wave back, didn't seem to see him at all. For some reason, he felt a pang of sadness at this. The look on her face held something familiar in it, something he couldn't place. He forced himself to look away and quickly settled with Tales of Beedle the Bard on the couch.

An hour later, it had got a bit darker in the room and Harry finally looked up from the book, a rather dazed look in his eyes. It felt almost as if he had, for a while, forgotten where he was. With a few blinks he was brought back to reality, and he put the book face down on the sofa. He was tired of reading, and felt no desire to play with the toys he had recently been given. Along with his boredom came the question of where Snape was. He'd said he had to work, but Harry thought he had been away an awfully long time. Didn't he know that it was horrible to play on your own, if you had people nearby who might be able to play with you? Maybe he doesn't, Harry thought. Snape obviously had no idea of what it was like to be almost nine years old.

He swung his legs a bit, and the toes of his shoes brushed against the worn rug. Curiosity had joined his other feelings, and it itched in him to go and look around the castle. Maybe he could find and talk to Professor Dumbledore. Or visit Hagrid, or see if Professor Sprout had any more of those chocolate biscuits… But Snape had told him to stay, and the last time Harry had wandered, he – Snape – hasn't been very pleased. Quite the opposite. Harry blushed a bit even though he was all alone. On the other hand, his brain said, he wouldn't have to know.

But he always knows.

Not if you're careful.

I was careful last time.

Maybe you shouldn't go outside this time.

What if the other professors see me and tell Snape then?

Just don't let anyone see you.

Could I manage that?

Of course you could.

Maybe… I s'pose I could try.

Exactly, that's the spirit!

After this short, internal debate, he sighed, hopped off the couch and tried to stroll casually towards the door. Looking around him, as if he expected Snape to jump out of the fireplace, he then tried the door handle. It wasn't locked (what were the odds?), so he opened it quietly and nipped out, carefully shutting the door behind him.

The dark corridor was quiet, and Harry, remembering the way up, headed straight for the stairs. Nervousness chewed the inside of his stomach, but it was the exciting kind, and his eyes shone as he walked cautiously up the steps.

He saw no one as he got to the top, and started walking without any final destination. All he knew was that he wanted to get to the "entrance place" first and then continue up. As the school was a castle, it was bound to have several towers, the boy concluded as he reached the Entrance Hall. Hiding behind a suit of armour, he peered around the corner. The large area was completely devoid of people. He waited a few more seconds just to be sure and then walked forwards, letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. The place was rather breathtaking when you got a good look at it, and Harry stared around him, mesmerised. Across from him, he noticed for the first time a set of enormous double doors. They were almost the size of the front doors, and Harry could hardly fathom how he had missed them previously. After all, this was where they'd bumped into Hagrid, so he had seen the place a few times.

He didn't actually walk over there consciously, but before he knew it he was two feet away from the monstrous things, and had to crane his neck terribly to see the top of them, almost toppling over in the process. He wondered what on Earth they might hide, and again, that nuisance curiosity flared up inside him. His only worry was that there might be people in there. The size of the doors made them look important, which made them if possible even more intriguing and intimidating.

Making a snap decision, he almost smiled to himself as he reached out and up to grasp the massive iron handle of the left hand door. One would have thought opening the door would have been impossible for such a small and slight child, but Harry only had to pull lightly and it opened a crack. His heart thumping loudly (he was almost surprised people didn't come running, what with it beating so hard and noisily), he stuck his head through the gap.

Inside was the biggest room he had ever seen. The biggest room he could have possibly imagined, really. It was long and rectangular, the walls practically made of glass with the vast amount of large, beautiful windows covering them. Four long tables stretched from a few feet in front him all the way to the other end of the room. At the far end, at the other short side, was an elevated platform on which another table stood. The chairs were facing the room, and in the middle stood a magnificent throne-like piece of furniture, with elaborate decorations on the back and armrests.

It looked like an abnormally large dining room; Harry supposed the school must house an impressive amount of students, considering the size of pretty much everything. Once again he found himself longing for the day he would start Hogwarts, and thought of in what House he might be. He made a mental note to ask Snape what House he had been in, and what kind of people were in what House. It was still two years away, but for something that seemed so spectacular, he was willing to wait. Pulling his gaze firmly away from the splendid sight, he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

As he wandered slowly up the stairs, thinking about where to go next, he again felt like someone was watching him. He spun around looking into all corners visible, but seeing no one. It unnerved him quite a bit, and he suddenly became extremely apprehensive. The last time he'd felt this, he'd found himself suddenly being dragged back to the dungeons by an irate Professor Snape. Losing all will to investigate the castle further, he turned and ran down the stairs back into the Entrance Hall.

Before he could stop, he ran through what looked like a transparent silhouette of a person, and he felt very chilled for a moment, a most uncomfortable feeling spreading through his body. When it stopped, he turned around sharply, and yelled aloud at what he saw.

Floating in mid-air in front of him was a greyish and, yes, transparent person.

"Harry Potter. So nice to meet you," he said as Harry continued to gawk.