based on material written by J.K. Rowling. Only my characters are my own, others are property of J.K. Rowling and just being borrowed for my procrastination and your enjoyment.
The large black dog crept quietly down the deserted hallway, expertly avoiding the stray beams of moonlight that entered through the windows. Even though the hallway was empty and quiet, one never knew when a stray child or staff person would stumble across and interrupt his mission. It was some early hour of the morning, after the last runners had gone to bed, but before the early risers would be about, and Grim had a job to do.
Grim easily crossed the simple wards of the 'forbidden' corridor on the third floor without disturbing them. Obsidian had given perfect instructions about what to expect: a series of traps laid out by various staff members. The first would be Hagrid's, but after that Obsidian could give no hints except his own was a Potions puzzle. He reached the door, where more simple wards lay and he slipped past those without disturbing them. They were obviously keyed to specific people, and his presence was not expected, even though he was using special equipment designed for crossing wards undetected. He turned back into his human self and bypassed the Cerberus with an Everplay Harp. Designed for children, it played a simple lullaby for three hours without having to be reset. Within a minute the three-headed dog was asleep.
Next Grim entered the trap door, and fell into the Devil's Snare that lay underneath. He burned it up with a quick flick of the wrist and dropped the Poison Oak seeds he had with him. They were engineered to be extra potent and grow within a few hours. The area would be unpassable by mid-morning, and because the vines didn't move, no wizard trying to 'sneak' in would think that the inoffensive and soft leaves posed a threat. Most dangerous magical plants moved angrily when disturbed, and plants that did not move were not dangerous to touch for any wizard competent in healing spells. Grim only hoped that the would-be thief was not an Herbology expert, but even in that event once the thief knew it was Poison Oak it would likely be too late.
Moving into the next room, he simply summoned the proper key and moved forward. He added an anti-summon spell to all the keys, added teeth to the keys as a defense mechanism and took the broom with him, shrinking it down to his pocket. The next room was a giant chess set. He simply transfigured the pieces into logs and crossed to the other side. He then transfigured the chessboard into a swimming pool filled with water. His expert Transfiguration skills came in handy once more as he transformed the former chess pieces into small biting fish and jellyfish.
The next room contained a sleeping troll who remained asleep thanks to Obsidian working earlier in the day to slip the troll a powerful sleeping potion. Grim moved into the next room and quickly summoned the potion to get past the flames. He then vanished the clue, took out the flames and pulled out the multiple vials of 'mystery potion' Obsidian had brewed for this particular purpose. He did not want to know what the mysterious potions master had brewed that was 'worse than poison'.
Finally the last door opened, and there sat the stone on a pedestal, looking very much like a prize at the end of a contest. The room felt unfinished somehow, and Grim thanked his luck that whatever the Headmaster had planned for this challenge went unfinished. True to form, there was an alternative exit, which Grim planned on using to full advantage. He planted the fake stone after taking the real one, and exited the passageway.
Doubling back, he planted several new wards and a double powered age line, with an alarm tied to his hideout on the grounds, as well as several other key places where if an unsuspecting child were to try and enter the corridor and the rooms enough trustworthy people would be alerted in order to preserve that child's life. His work finished he slipped out of the castle the same way he had come into it, and went to bed for a well deserved lie in.
Grim smiled in spite of himself. The Stone was safe!
March 15
The Spring Equinox was mere days away, and everybody was in high spirits. All of Harry's 'extra' classes had been canceled for the week, since the latest round of 15 year olds had to be trained for their new duties regarding the Equinox rites. Ever the Ravenclaw, Harry spent this extra time in the library, reading History books and taking meticulous notes. He knew that his family library had many more books on Wizard History, since the library at Hogwarts hadn't been updated on the subject since Binns became a ghost. However, there were still some rare and unique items at Hogwarts.
Harry had been so engrossed in his studies that he was shocked when the warning bell sounded for early curfew, which was specific to First and Second years. Thankfully this bell gave him 45 minutes with which to scurry off to his dorm in time for First and Second year curfew. He gathered his belongings and noted, that except for a few OWL and NEWT level Claws he was pretty much alone in the library. The thought barely processed as he walked out of the library and toward his dorm.
Harry had made it halfway when he noticed strange sounds in the hallway with him. Since the hall was pretty much deserted hearing the strange sounds kind of freaked him out. He would walk, and it sounded like somebody was walking with him, but when he turned around there was naught a person to see, and the walking stopped. He proceeded like this for a few minutes, and finally stopped quickly and turned around, catching a flash of red that ducked into shadow.
"Hey Gryffindor! Why are you following me?" Harry surmised that the flash of red was from a Gryffindor uniform.
"You're up to something!" Ron Weasley removed himself from the shadows and walked towards Harry.
"OF COURSE I'm up to something! It's called going to my dorm in time for curfew." Harry sighed. "Why do you keep following me?"
"Because you're sneaking around and always in the library! It ain't natural!"
Harry rolled his eyes and turned back around to continue his walk. "Fine, follow me then, just don't go complaining to folks when you're late and lose points because you were clear across the castle following a Ravenclaw to their dorm. They might question your sanity."
Harry heard a rustle behind him, and instantly shifted leftward as an odd colored spell shot past him. He turned around and got his wand ready, with just the tip poking out of his robe sleeve.
"What are you ON?" Harry looked at the red-haired boy, who was turning red.
"You won't even LISTEN to me! I've embarrassed myself this whole year boasting about how we were best friends and you won't even pay me the time of DAY! Instead you hang out with that squib Neville and all your Death Eater friends!"
Harry fought hard to control his temper. It flared up every now and again, and here was this red-haired menace, impeding his progress towards bed and sanity, where nothing would bother him until DADA in the afternoon. "Neville Longbottom is worth 10,000 of you. He doesn't go about attempting to hex random blokes in the hallways half an hour till curfew, and he's a good friend to boot. Something you would know if you bothered to speak to the boy rather than teasing him because he's not like you." This time Harry saw Weasley preparing the spell and dodged what he knew was a mispronounced and miscast bat bogey hex.
"I'm far more important than Longbottom! Just you see!" Ron shouted and then prepared to shoot off another spell. Harry dodged this one too, a sickly green colored spell with an incantation that sounded off to Harry.
"Why do you keep shooting spells at me?" Harry queried, as Ron glared at him for not falling victim to his latest attempt at spell casting.
"We're gonna duel! We're gonna duel and I'm gonna win and then you'll apologize for pissing me off and we'll be best blokes!" Ron shot off another spell, and this one Harry ducked.
Harry, knowing that this was possibly the worst thing ever, a pissed off boy with a wand he couldn't seem to use properly. So he did the best thing he could think of. He ran. He tore down the hallway to the sound of Weasley's pursuit, and used his speed advantage to quickly dive down a corridor and into an empty classroom. Ron had been right behind him, but a quick locking charm on the door kept him out. Harry figured he could wait ten minutes and be back to his dorm, or at least in the corridor where his dorm entrance was, and not get into too much trouble. He turned around, prepared to wait the Gryffindor out and saw it. It was a strange mirror sitting in one corner of the overly dusty classroom. He had seen it before, in one of the books he had been reading.
"Mirror of Erised." Harry recalled. He walked over to it and his breath caught in his throat.
He was standing, fully-grown and without glasses, in proper Wizengamot robes with Blaise and Theo, smiling and laughing. He was holding a piece of parchment, but could not figure out what it was. It almost looked like the three of them had completed their Mastery, from the way they kept holding up the rolls and cheering. His Aunt Cassi and Uncle Orion were there, as well as Dru and the twins and Ori Jr. But there was also a red haired woman and a guy who looked like him, although they looked older. He recognized them as his parents, and they were smiling out of the mirror at him. The scene shifted slightly and he was still standing there, but he was holding a blonde haired baby and smiling down at it. His robes looked very refined, and had symbols on them he barely remembered from Civics class. They looked like high government robes, in any case.
The bell sounded, and it tore Harry from his reflection. He realized with a panic that he had missed curfew, and could only hope to make it back without being caught by Prefect patrols as he tried to make it back in time. With a fleeting glance to his reflection, he left his family behind.
Fifteen minutes and a few close calls later, Harry made it back to his dorm and up to bed. He drifted off to sleep wondering what that parchment said, and who's little blonde baby he had been holding.
Springtime came to Hogwarts, and the last big event before finals was the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quiddich match. It was the match of the season, literally. The winner of this match would likely win the House Cup. The points between Ravenclaw and Slytherin were very close, and the bonus that winning the Quiddich Cup brought would be the difference.
The match was mid April, which was delightfully warm and breezy. The entire week had been perfect for being outside, and spring fever had settled in. The stands were packed with students, even the most bookish Ravenclaw and disinterested Hufflepuff came out just to enjoy being in the stands. Harry happily seated himself near Theo, with Daphne in between and Christophe on other side as the two teams made their way onto the pitch.
Meanwhile, one person was absent from the final game, begging off with a headache, and after begrudgingly accepting a potion from Professor Snape told his colleagues he would go 'sleep it off.' He instead headed towards the third floor corridor.
Professor Quirrell was not the most competent professor at Hogwarts. At one time he had been a great man, the perfect instructor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had graduated from Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Class of '70, a prefect and apprentice to Casper Alio, the last man to teach at Hogwarts with an actual mastery in the Defensive Arts. Alio and Quirrell had been among the earliest to flee during the rise of Lord Voldemort. When Alio died before Quirrell could earn his Mastery from him, Quirrell hired himself out as a tutor. He spent many years teaching both English and French children until an opportunity to teach for a very rich family in Russia. Most of his other pupils had aged out, and the others he could floo to visit.
Teaching in Russia brought it's own challenges, but he also got to do a lot of research. It was amazing how much information he learned just by being in a different area of the world. By 1987 all of his charges had grown up, but he had made enough money to research to his heart's content. However, it was in Albania that he found what would have been his life's work.
Strange happenings had plagued a rural part of Albania for years, not like there was a particularly busy part of Albania, but the rate of magical creatures that had vanished. There were also 'dark happenings' that drew him to the area. He was hoping to discover a new creature that fed on the other creatures, but in particular light creatures like the Albanian Unicorn. Unlike its English counterpart, they came in shades of blue and purple. Once a flourishing population, they had been hunted to near extinction, even within the heavily warded preserves designed to protect them for 'humane harvesting' of hair and replaceable body parts.
When he was attacked he didn't even realize it for a few weeks. That first few months was hard on him, but he managed. Then he was contacted through an old acquaintance about the perpetual need of a DA teacher at Hogwarts, his old Alma Mater. Apparently the willingness of competent teachers to fill the post was dwindling, and only the insane, desperate or incompetent were filling the spots. His friend thought he would be perfect, since he was actually qualified. Of course the added rumor that he would be the first teacher to officially teach Harry Potter DADA sweetened the pot. His master agreed.
He had been fighting hard to stay alive, since they had moved the remaining 300 or so Albanian unicorns to another preserve, down from a herd of more than 4,000. He had managed, but with the promise of a fresh crop of unicorns to hunt, and the rumors that Albus Dumbledore had been entrusted to protect a 'rare artifact' he packed his bags and left for Hogwarts.
At orientation he found out that the school was protecting the Philosopher's Stone, in order to preserve the lives, ironically enough, of the Flamels. They had enough tonic to last the year, according to Dumbledore. His master laughed in his head, and the plot to take the stone and use it to separate his master from himself was hatched. The troll was to be a distraction, but the night had been an epic disaster. Now, with Dumbledore out of the castle on ICW business and the rest of the school at the Quiddich Cup, the castle would be empty of interlopers.
Quirrell made his way down to the third floor corridor after ditching the headache potion behind a statue. He unshrunk a harp and let the cerebus fall asleep. He didn't know what the other protections were, or what order they were in, so he descended into the trap door with caution.
The plant he found was thick, but soft and only mildly irritating. Figuring it was choke weed he let himself slide through and to the next room, only feeling mildly aggravated from the leaves he had just passed through.
The second room was full of floating keys, which swarmed and attacked him as soon as he entered. Figuring out quickly that these were keys to the next door he attempted to summon the key and failed. The charmed keys continued to swarm and bite at him, as the irritation on his exposed skin continued to grow. Finally the combined irritation of biting keys and itchy skin got to him and he blasted his way to the next room to find a pool of water and a school of what looked like baby sharks. An invisible force pushed him into the water and that was when he realized that the floating clouds were highly poisonous jellyfish, which swarmed him because of the little bites and the little bit of bleeding he had begun to feel from the keys.
He swam across as fast as he could, even though he could already feel the poison working through his veins. In the next room he found his troll, which he battled, pushing the poison through his system faster. The next room contained vials, which he tested by smelling and tasting. He found one that seemed to work, but by now his mind was very foggy and his brain was full of cement. It turned out that this vial only made the flames hotter. The potion also made him very thirsty, and ignoring the protests of his master he drank every potion in sight trying to quench his thirst. His skin was on fire from a rapidly spreading rash, and his blood boiled from the combination of jellyfish poison and the ill effects of the potions he had drank.
Unable to rid the room of flames, and unable to go back Quirrell was running out of ideas. The flames were magical and could not hurt him, so he thought. It was more his body's unconscious response against being burned than anything.
At this point Quirrell's blood felt like it was on fire and freezing at the same time. His head swam, his vision was blurred and his skin felt like it was roasting. He was also certain that quite a number of things he was seeing were not actually present, but his brain could not figure out which was which. He heard multiple voices in his head, all telling him to do different things involving the blue fire that may or may not have been in front of him. He couldn't tell from heat, as his own body was giving off it's own heat. His eyes were blurry, and he was at least partially certain that fish did not swim in flames, so maybe it was a fish tank he was looking at?
Suddenly, blinding hot searing pain flashed through his brain, muting for a moment all the other pain his body was feeling, and then he felt his body slip blissfully into the cooling effects of unconsciousness, where the pain and confusion could not reach.
That was where he was found an hour later, mid Quiddich match, by Croaker and an assistant who had been summoned by Grim when the alarms first began to ring. The shade, his "master', was long gone, but it was obvious during the subsequent examination that Quirrell had been possessed by a malevolent entity. The trio stood over the still unconscious body and discussed fate.
"You have done good work, Grim." Croaker looked at the shaking, mangled body of Quirrell, and the Stone which sat on a nearby pillow.
Grim simply shrugged. "Your orders were that Emerald nor the other should be put in danger by the Stone. I saw to it that only the target ever got a chance to do so. Nick and Penny?"
"On their way to retrieve the Stone. After this incident they feel that keeping the stone is worth it, at least for a little while longer. They say that they have much knowledge that should be shared, but that the 'timing' has never been right."
Grim looked oddly at Croaker. "Trade secets?"
Croaker shook his head. "Not really, but information the likes of which would keep our department busy for years decoding, not to mention how they have had centuries to research whatever topic they so choose. And they operate outside of the Ministry. They probably have enough books full of information the Ministry would like hidden to fill ten libraries the size of Hogwarts."
Grim's eyes widened. "Is that another reason they were a target?"
Croaker looked down at Quirrell and cast a spell at the man. He then moved away to a corner of the room and bid Grim to follow.
A second and third privacy spell later and Croaker spoke. "Bee had the power to protect the stone and Nick and Penny without taking it from their custody. They have the rare distinction of being older than him. Not a lot of British wizards can say that. Even if they collected five books a year that have subsequently been banned, or the magic within them banned, since they married and began working on the Philosopher's Stone⦠they've been alive for around four hundred years. And I happen to know that Penny is an avid collector of books and rarities."
Grim actually felt the ground drop from beneath his feet. The person who was placed in charge of an estate that large could literally control history and the future. Especially if the Flamels had any information on magic that had been since banned by the ministry like Necromancy and Blood Runes. There were people in a position of power had killed off no telling how many other branches of magic.
"You have done good work. We can protect Nick and Penny now, and keep them safe until they can once again share their knowledge with others. Go home, we will keep you posted on your next assignment. For this we might even consider keeping you on after your term of repayment is completed.
Grim nodded, and left by Floo to his temporary home, while Shining Star entered from another room.
"This is better than we can have imagined. The mists still shroud the future, but the next couple of years have become unveiled. Grim is not out of danger, and Templeton must be captured before we can release Grim."
Croaker nodded, and then cracked a rare smile. "Yes, this much we know. The Bee is still very active and will try to make our work difficult. The Stone is safe, and the rightful owners will be returning for it shortly. It is good that the original course of events have changed. Much of the chaos of the original timeline was caused by the Stone falling into the wrong hands."
Star Shine smiled. "We will be successful. We have recruited well, even if it was by pure chance."
Croaker agreed. "Yes. What shall we do about Quirrell?"
Star Shine shrugged. "We have the means to use Polyjuice until the end of the term, and then we can leave peacefully. Everybody knows the position is cursed. It is excepted."
Croaker nodded. "Yes. You can do that. It will give you a chance to read Emerald more closely, it might help clear the mists to pose as one of his professors for even these last two months. You have the materials?"
Star Shine smiled. "I am prepared."
The Slytherins were unbearable those last two months, given that they won the Quiddich Cup for an 8th straight year. The Ravenclaw Seeker, a second year girl named Cho was in danger of losing her position, and this fact was well known among the other Ravenclaws.
"You should try out next year, Harry." Theo poked at his lamb stew and looked at the raven haired boy across the table from him.
Harry shrugged. "I might. It all depends."
Daphne shook her head. "You saw the same game I did. I might not be as obsessed with the sport as the rest of you lot but we had that game in the bag if not for Chang."
"That doesn't mean that I'll get a spot on the team."
"That's a load of bollocks. I've seen you fly Harry. You'll fly circles around the competition." Theo supplied.
Harry simply shrugged again and continued to work on his own stew. "I guess. I just feel like right now I need to work on my Practicals. If I score high enough in Transfiguration I will be added to the advanced syllabus for the upcoming term."
"I'm more concerned about my abyssimal performance in Potions. I might not even get an O this term!" Daphne sighed. "It's so horrible! I can't imagine getting a lower score than Parkinson!"
"She's good?" Theo looked confused.
"She's got Draco tutoring her, and he's good, and not just because his godfather is the professor." Daphne supplied.
Harry smiled. "Well then I'll just have to tutor you. I pulled Neville Longbottom up to an EE in Potions. Getting you to maintain an O will be a breeze in comparison."
Daphne sighed. "Well I would hope so. Longbottom is a decent enough bloke, but he's a bundle of nerves."
Harry scowled. "Well part of it isn't his fault. His housemates are louses. They tease him so horribly that it's no wonder he can't concentrate on the information that's in his brain. It's a wonder anybody in Gryffindor gets decent marks."
The group scowled towards the Gryffindor table, where the subject of their conversation was stuffing his face with every edible item within reach.
"Parvati says it's an absolute horror. All her roommates ever do is gossip and even if she wanted to study she also wants to keep good relations with them, lest she end up in the same position as Neville. " Padma supplied. "She'll be in tutoring all summer just to catch herself back up!"
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He would be in classes this summer too, but more towards things he was not learning at Hogwarts. He knew that he would spend two days a week at Malfoy Manor studying account management with Draco. Being the heir of such impressive holdings meant that he had to know how to manage them properly. He was not looking forward to spending an entire summer taking classes with just Draco, but the boy was his cousin, and his equal socially. Some things could not be avoided.
He would also be learning other subjects, as well as taking the Durmstang Summer Curriculum, a tradition among Black family members. It would make him a more well-rounded wizard. That he did look forward to, as he was taking the classes alone. The term was ending rather nicely. Even DADA had improved, as the professor seemed to finally have lost his stutter and didn't reek of garlic as badly. oHis headaches during the class, while infrequent even when they did occur, were non-existent now. Maybe he would try out for Quiddich.
Dumbledore sighed as he sat watching the end of term feast. He could glare with the best of them when he wanted to, but he was more disappointed than anything. Not once, not even once, did Harry even raise an eyebrow at the bait he threw out. There the boy sat now, amongst his friends in Ravenclaw, but the fact that he also conversed with the Slytherins who sat directly behind him was not lost on him. Not a care in the world except for the upcoming summer hoidays. No cautions glances towards his direction, cautious and hopeful that the Headmaster would rescue him from his horrid relatives.
Instead, Harry looked excited about the prospect of going home, where he had his own suite and private tutors for the entire summer. He didn't look concerned that the fate of the Wizarding World was on his shoulders. Dumbledore was unsure how to instill in Harry the need to take matters into his own hands. Harry seemed unconcerned with anybody other than his closest friends. Even when directly confronted, as Dumbledore had urged young Ron Weasley to do, the boy did not rise to the bait. He was strongly protective of Neville Longbottom, which could prove handy. The risk of angering Augusta Longbottom and the other surviving Longbottom clan was very high should a hair on Neville head be injured in one of his 'schemes' as the unsympathetic called them, but sometimes measures must be taken. Dumbledore put it out of his mind that the whole reason Tom Riddle had turned out the way he had was because Dumbledore figured that leaving him at the orphanage would temper his anti-Muggle sentiments rather than turn them into a full blown fanaticism.
Dumbledore also ignored the fact that many people had tried to adopt young Mr. Riddle, individuals and families whose other children spoke about how talented Mr. Riddle had been and how disturbing his 'home' life was, but Dumbledore had blocked the efforts through his ties at the Ministry. Never once did it occur to Dumbledore that forcing Harry to remain living with the Dursleys might have eventually produced the same effects.
No, all Dumbledore could do was shake his head at how Harry failed to go on any type of 'adventure' this year, and more importantly, failed to recover the Stone for him. Quirrell seemed better, but Dumbledore knew it was not the original Quirrell. Some outside force had intervened, and if Harry was to become the person Dumbledore needed him to be in order to fix his fifty-year-old mistake, that outside force had to be stopped before the new term began.
Harry laughed, and Dumbledore felt that not even lemon sherbert drops or even that Muggle candy Mars Bars could make him feel better about the boy's blissful happiness.
Term is over! Upcoming: Summer Lessons and probably the start of Year 2. Thanks for my reviewers/readers! Sorry this took so long but school has kicked up full swing. Some of you had questions that rather than answer them in a review, prompt me to add details to my story. Enjoy!
