Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling, as such all rights, royalties, characters, and settings belong to her.
Author's Note: I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews, and it's interesting to see what you all think. Also… this is going to introduce a character I plan on using a lot in my Harry Potter works. I decided to take an opportunity to flesh out one of the background Slytherins a bit. Meet Tracey Davis.
The Son of Prongs and the Snitch and Stone
Chapter 12: Harry's Heart's Desire
It didn't take Harry long the next day, a Sunday, to find Professor Snape. Apparently Madam Pomfrey had set to work on the damage that Sirius had dealt and mended it fairly easily. Despite this Snape still hobbled a bit on his leg and Harry guessed something far worse than a sprain or twisted ankle was the cause.
He cornered the Professor in his office, a room dominated by a plain black desk and a couple shelves loaded full of potions ingredients. Snape looked up at him, a glower set on his face as one of the first years in his house, a Slytherin named Tracey Davis, looked up as well.
She was sitting in the chair before the desk looking nervous. She had circular wire frame glasses like he did and mousy brown hair. Her blue eyes glittered with intelligence as she watched him at the door.
"Potter... what do you want? As you can see I'm rather busy." Snape growled.
"I'm sorry sir. I wanted to apologize to you for my Godfather's behavior at the game." Harry said quietly.
"Hmmph... Remus was too busy to hold his leash?" Snape grumbled.
"I think he was trying to counter the curse on my broom, just as you were, sir."
Snape's expression grew cold and his dark eyes flashed toward the first year across from. "Miss Davis, I will speak with you later about your problems... I too know what it is like being in Slytherin as a half-blood. It seems Potter and I have more serious matters to discuss."
Davis nodded and bound out of the room, when the door shut Snape's glare hardened. "I would hope you had enough Slytherin in you to learn a bit of discretion."
"I understand that sir, but I am certain you can spin this as me groveling for a better potions grade." Harry smiled faintly as Snape gave a slight nod. "I... I'm worried Professor, whoever cursed my broom managed to beat both Remus and your own attempts to counter it. I probably would have fallen off much earlier if you hadn't intervened as it was."
"I see... Black was here before Minerva kicked him off the grounds to apologize as well. He mentioned you believed it was another member of the staff?" Snape said flatly.
"Quirrell, he looked straight at me right before the broom was cursed the second time. My scar also burned when he did... that's the second time I got a headache from that man." Harry said quickly. "I heard that you believe he made an attempt on the stone."
"You have been paying attention, good... Dumbledore no doubt hoped that the stone's presence could be kept secret, but I knew eventually word would get out to those that paid attention." Snape stated. "Like Miss Davis, who is no doubt listening just outside my door."
The clatter of shoes just outside the room on flagstone seemed to confirm that statement and Harry smiled faintly. "She's having problems?"
"Parkinson has been mocking her parentage... her mother is the only living member of her family and a muggleborn." Snape shrugged. "Quirrell never struck me as being a particularly gifted wizard, not until this year... I've seen him almost thoughtlessly use wandless magic. He left for a sabbatical for a year, supposedly went to Rumania for field experience... He came back babbling like an idiot but magically much stronger."
"Is it possible the stutter is fake, it sounds almost to severe to be real in class." Harry said.
"Of course it's fake Potter. One does not come back from a trip to Rumania spontaneously wielding wandless magic... no... He found something out there." Snape scowled as he rubbed his arm. "Even the blackest magics I know of would not grant him such power so quickly."
"What would he want with the stone?" Harry asked. "I mean... it just turns base metals into gold, I don't know if he has the skill to brew the Elixir of Life... Blimey, would he even know how to use it?"
"True... I hope it is just greed, but there is another possibility." Snape slowly leaned back in his chair. "Quirrell served as the school's professor for Muggle Studies for a number of years... he was not Dumbledore or my choice for the position. He is a pureblood wizard raised in the old ways, and was selected by the Board of Governors."
"So he's a pureblood... who thinks muggles are little more than animals?" Harry asked. "Bloody hell, who pushed for him?"
"He was selected by Lucius Malfoy." Snape said.
"Malfoy." Harry grumbled to himself. "So... what do we do?"
"You do nothing Potter but be on your guard, he's a master of wandless mage and holds a mastery in defense. I have no doubt that in a duel he would wipe the floor with you." Snape said flatly. "I will be watching him. Dumbledore is talking about improving the stone's protection as well."
"Alright, I just wanted to make sure you knew I... I didn't approve of what happened or anything Professor. I'd much prefer to get along with my teachers when possible." Harry said.
"Good, now... go bring Miss Davis back in, she is getting quite adept at charming her shoes to walk away without her." Snape said with a smug expression at the hiss of dismay that came from outside the door.
As November slipped into December, the temperature in the castle plummeted driving Harry, Hermione, and Ron to keeping a small glass jar filled with a magical fire close at hand. They huddled close to their cauldrons in the Potions classroom as steam wafted up trying to get warm. The chairs closest to the roaring fire in the common room always were occupied and Harry ended up wearing mittens when he setup his film projector. At least the ear splitting laughter that followed when he showed Gremlins that night gave him a bright smile.
Hagrid was forced to nurse Errol back to health after the old owl delivered a whole collection of letters and a howler for the twins. Among them was a note from his pen-pal of sorts, Ginny.
Dear Harry,
It's almost Christmas, I'm so excited... Mum, Dad, and I are going to Rumania to see my brother Charlie and Bill! I am kind of sad that Ron, Percy, and the Twins aren't coming along. They're staying at Hogwarts since they can't afford to take everyone.
It's been so long since I saw Bill! It's going to be great. Charlie's got a wicked job too, he works at a Dragon preserve there. I mean, wow, I'll get to see Dragons! This is so wicked.
Oh, can you get Ron to write me... Merlin's wand he still hasn't written me. It's been what, nearly three months? What is with him...? I mean without your letters I'd hardly know what was going on with him. I convinced Mum to get you a Christmas present or two. I think Dumbledore will be sending them along if you're going home since no one can send you anything without Hedwig.
Your friend... I think,
Ginny
The letter was far longer than Harry'd gotten from her before and he smiled at the excited ramble. "Sounds like fun." He muttered to himself.
"You got fan-mail again Potter?" Draco snapped from over Harry's shoulder.
"Maybe..." Harry said with a roll of his eyes as Ron red his letter. "You would too if you had friends outside this place."
"Well that's all you got Potter, just friends... no real family. They had to piss off the wrong people and die!"
"Shut up!" Harry shouted. "SHUT UP ABOUT THINGS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND." He stood and marched out, shaking with rage. As he slammed the door shut behind him the wood cracked and Harry could feel his magic build up.
Malfoy had attempted to bait and mock him almost daily, loudly talking about his delinquent guardians or how he should stay at the school since he didn't have a mum and dad to go home to.
Harry sometimes felt like breaking down when laughter followed those comments. Only a few seemed to understand what it really meant to him. It always hurt... and the only thing Harry could do was snap back at the little twit when it happened.
Tears followed. It was one thing to lose his parents, but another to hear how good of parents they were, how much they loved him from Remus and Sirius. He couldn't stand to see their deaths spoken of so cavalierly. Finally Harry leaned against the wall and shook.
There was a huge gaping hole in his heart from their deaths, even if he could only remember them in the occasional nightmare.
"Harry... are you okay?" Hermione asked timidly as she walked over to him.
"No..."
"You miss them, don't you..." Hermione said.
Harry's throat tightened. "I shouldn't... I don't even remember them, but... I do. Remus and Sirius told me stories all the time. I... I wish they didn't die like that, they gave their lives to save me... I... I can't let a twerp like Malfoy insult their memory."
"They died to save you?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded. "Dumbledore left a letter with me when he delivered me to the Dursleys... it said that my Mum..." His voice cracked and he felt tears fill his eyes. "My Mum invoked some ancient magic and... and she gave her life for mine. When Voldemort turned his wand on me... her sacrifice made his curse bounce back just... just leaving me with this scar."
"She loved you Harry... it's what Mums do." Hermione said quietly. "Come on... if you want to get back at him you'll need to pull yourself together."
He did, but still found himself fuming at each barb. Ron seemed confused by his reaction, not really understanding it at all. Still he carried on.
That night, after being utterly destroyed in chess for what was probably the hundredth time in a row, Harry introduced another game in the common room, pulling out a small library of books while unrolling a massive mat in the center of the room.
Hermione looked on rather curiously over her DADA textbook as Harry pulled out a sheet of parchment and tapped it with his wand, suddenly a whole statistical array of information appeared and Harry studied it for a moment.
Ron stared at one of the books looking confused. "What's 'Muggle and Mundane'?"
"It's... well," Harry chewed his lip for a moment. "It's a role-playing game that Remus got Sirius hooked on. Apparently a muggle studies professor here started it after coming across a muggle game about wizards and witches called Dungeons and Dragons. It started out just muggle stuff but it got popular so she added to it, I've got witch and wizard sourcebooks too."
"Really?" Hermione asked as she lowered her books. "I heard some kids at school talking about Dungeons and Dragons once... sounded wierd."
"So... what do we do?" Ron asked as he sat down beside Harry.
"First you create a character..." Soon he was explaining the whole process, skimming through books talking about feats, abilities, and other things. Hermione, being rather bookish got curious and started looking through the books.
"Ron, it's like making a character and then playing or reading a... well, a choose your own adventure story." Hermione said before looking over at Harry. "But, how is success and failure determined... I mean, there aren't dice or anything."
Harry grinned as he tapped his character sheet then the gaming mat. Instantly a figurine of his character appeared. He looked a bit like a pirate with a broad brimmed hat with a feather, loose shirt, and leather pants. In his figure's hands however were a sword and a wand.
"Wait mate... is this like Wizard's chess but with characters, characters we make?" Ron asked as he looked at the mat.
"Exactly."
That first gaming session dragged out until midnight as Harry explained all the rules. He'd called Sirius and Remus on his mirror and the two assumed the role of the Game Master, remotely creating the scenario with a battle mat of their own back at the house.
They quickly found themselves playing through an adventure much like Indiana Jones, but instead of an evil archaeologist looking for the Holy Grail backing the Nazis it turned out to be a Grindelwald wizard searching for a mythical gold dragon. Harry laughed when Ron's character tried to destroy a tank with a bludgeoning curse. It turned to giggles when Hermione's avatar ran up to him and fired off a blasting curse that tore the machine apart.
Soon they had an audience as the adventure wore on, and when it was far past curfew and the noise hadn't died down, Professor McGongall came by to investigate. She was fascinated after a few minutes and skimmed through one of the books that Harry hadn't bothered to use.
The game didn't end until she demanded they go to bed shortly after midnight, by which time the group was dodging Nazi planes and one very angry dragon.
They didn't notice the Professor walking out with a scroll of parchment covered in notes.
A few days later Harry found himself on the verge of throttling Malfoy after he called his parents morons for giving their lives to save such a worthless wizard. It wasn't until Snape called out "Twenty points from Gryffindor for fighting and twenty points from Slytherin for speaking ill of the dead."
Then Harry was able to finally regain control. Still, he was irritable from that point on despite Hermione's best efforts to calm him down. That night he couldn't sleep, so irritated and rather cold he slipped out of the portrait hole long after dark intent on burning off some steam. He transformed into Blaez as soon as he was out and padded through the halls, comfortable in the cold thanks to the shaggy coat he wore.
It wasn't long until he found his first target when the lamp like eyes of Mrs. Norris peered around one corner. With a howl that set Mr. Filch scrambling for his quarters he leapt toward the cat.
The dusty gray cat bolted immediately, shooting down the hallway as Harry gave chase. He was led through side passages and secret tunnels for what felt like miles. His legs burned and ached from the workout as he finally cornered the bane of Hogwarts pranksters before a set of doors.
Filch's cat slipped between a set of doors and shot across the floor before disappearing under a large oak desk. Harry slid to a stop and panted, his breath coming out in large puffs of condensation.
He had no idea where he was at that moment and he slowly backed away from the hissing Mrs. Norris before padding back out into the corridor. Glancing at the open doors he stopped as he saw a large mirror standing in the middle of one room amongst a clutter of desks, tables, and stacked paintings.
With a cock of his head he padded over to the mirror and stopped before it, his tongue hanging out. It was so cool to look in a mirror as a wolf and see his form, its black fur and bright green eyes, the white patch of fur shaped like a lightning bolt.
As he sat on his haunches before the mirror he froze as another creature appeared in the reflection. He could almost hear the clack of its hooves on the flagstone. A massive stag stood behind him. A moment later it was joined by a familiar black dog.
He didn't think of shifting back to his human form, he just did and a whimper slipped from his lips. As Harry stood, the stag transformed into a tall man wearing a sweater and circular glasses. His black mop of hair stuck up wildly and a smile sprung to his face. "Dad..." He whispered.
His heart clenched as the black dog transformed into the familiar sight of Sirius smirking behind him. A moment later a redheaded woman stepped up beside his father, and her glittering emerald eyes brought tears to his face. Remus appeared behind her smiling faintly, and then there were others in the background faint shadows of others he'd never known or seen. One seemed to have his and his father's knobby knees, another had his wild hair.
Harry couldn't help himself, the image that appeared before him tugged hard at his heart. He swore he could almost feel his mother's hand on his shoulder. Tears filled his eyes and he slumped on the ground. He sobbed.
"Mum..." He cried and looked up at her in the mirror, his heart shattering. "Dad... What, what is this?"
"Harry?" A cool voice called from behind him and he spun, desperately trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. There behind him stood Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. The old man lifted a wand from his sleeve and its tip brightened the room instantly. "I see that you have your own ways of making your way round the castle..."
"Professor..." Harry croaked quietly.
Dumbledore stepped to his side and nodded. "I was working on this particular item when I heard your claws on the flagstone. It is a most ancient artifact, and I thought I might have use of it in the castle's security." He glanced at Harry and his eyes crinkled above his beard in a smile. "I must say, to have mastered the Animagus transformation at such an age... it is an exceptional feat. Tell me, when did you manage it?"
"Early this summer," Harry said quietly. "It made it safer for me... with Remus's furry little problem and all. Werewolves don't hunt animals, so as a wolf... I'm safe around him."
"Fascinating..." Albus said before putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Tell me, what do you see in the mirror?"
"I..." Harry felt tears fill his eyes again as he looked up into the glass and saw his parents standing tall and proud behind him. Sirius and Remus stood to their sides grinning while others, with features like his own stood beyond them. "I see my Mum and Dad... their friends, and... my family." He finished in a whisper.
"I see... yes, that is a most moving image. Tell me, would you say that having your parents back is what you'd want more than anything else in the world?" Albus asked quietly. "The greatest desire in your heart?"
Harry sobbed and felt himself shake as more tears streamed down his cheeks. "Yes... it hurts, it hurts so much sometimes." He felt Dumbledore squeeze his shoulder.
"I know... tragedy is a heavy burden for anyone to bear." Dumbledore said sagely. "This young Harry is the mirror of erised. It will show in its reflection the greatest and most desperate desire of your heart. It is dangerous, and many have wasted away staring into the mirror..."
Harry nodded and looked away from the image. "You want to use it guard the stone?"
Dumbledore stared down at him in surprise. "Indeed, I will not ask how you managed to decipher the secret of what lies within the third floor corridor. I intend to use it as a defense, several others have assembled their own defenses for the stone... this will be the final one. I believe Minerva talked of upgrading hers after witnessing a rather interesting game in the Gryffindor Common Room."
"I... I don't want to look at it anymore." Harry said quietly. "It hurts."
"I know Harry." Dumbledore said quietly before stepping up to the mirror and tapping his wand to its frame. "Soon it'll be ready and moved to its final resting place. Promise me you won't go looking for it."
"I won't Professor." Harry said quietly.
"I suggest you return to your dorm, Harry or I will have to give you a detention." Dumbledore said with a slight smile.
"Yes sir." Harry said quietly before asking. "Professor, may I ask you a question?"
"You just have, but you may ask another." Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling.
"What... what do you see in the mirror?"
Dumbledore stared into the mirror for a long moment. "I see myself, holding a pair of large woolly socks. It gets quite cold in the castle, and I never seem to ever receive any socks... people insist on giving me books."
Harry shrugged. "Thank you Professor." Then his form morphed back into the black wolf. As he padded out he heard the Professor say something else under his breath, to faint to catch without Blaez's hearing.
"Arianna."
Then the door shut and he headed down the corridor back to his room and wondered what it meant before shoving the question aside. It had been a rather personal question after all.
Over the next few days the castle turned festive, lights, ornaments, and trees went up. As the weekend approached however, Harry found himself packing up some clothes and essentials in a duffel that Remus had slipped into his trunk.
Then after saying a quick goodbye to Ron, he and Hermione made their way to the set of horseless carriages and headed down to the train station to head home for the holidays.
