Shortly after Harry Potter was released from the Hospital Wing after defeating Professor Quirrell, and his passenger Lord Voldemort, found the boy in a pure panic. He had respectfully and politely asked Professor Dumbledore to let him stay at the school during the summer break only to be told no. Harry couldn't bear the thought of returning to his so-called home.
"The Dursley residence is that just. A residence. It is not my home," the boy said with pure venomous emotion. Unnoticed by the headmaster and unknown to the young boy, three instruments in the headmaster's office went from churning out chipper blue smoke to a dreary grey as their purpose ended unceremoniously. The headmaster never noticed the change, since he only looked closely enough at the instruments to see if they were still puffing away.
Harry blindly ran with all the emotion of a scared and abused 11 year old. He found himself in a disused portion of the 7th floor corridor before he ran out of steam.
"I need a plan; I need a place to hide. I need a plan; I need a place to hide. I need a plan; I need a place to hide," the upset boy chanted to himself.
He almost fell over in surprise when a door suddenly appeared across from the screwy tapestry of some daft wizard trying to teach trolls ballet. Harry stared at the door for a moment, before looking around cautiously. He approached and opened the door. He gasped in surprise when he went inside.
Inside the strangely appearing door was a lovely flat. Harry walked around, exploring the strange place. There was a sitting room, a fully stocked eat-in kitchen, a bedroom with an ensuite, and a lovely library with a desk all set up for a budding wizard to study within. It was inside the library that he found his next surprise.
There was a rolling chalkboard with a few bullet points written underneath the header: The Plan. The first bullet point read, "Welcome to the haven for desperate wizards and witches. This location cannot be found except for by those in most dire and genuine need. To find this place easily again, just pace three times in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Think Haven and be free." Harry gaped at the message.
"This place is for me?" He asked, incredulous. The chalkboard flipped round and something wrote "Yes" on the board.
"Is there someone in here? A ghost, maybe?" Harry asked, perturbed.
Something responded by writing, "No. I'm just a room."
"A sentient room?" Harry asked, excitedly.
"Mostly, yes. I've the mind of Hogwarts within me," the chalk wrote.
"Brilliant! Can I stay here this summer? Please?" Asked the boy, desperately.
"Yes," the room responded. "On one condition …"
"What?" the boy asked, "Anything!"
"There is a cursed object in another iteration of this room. You must remove it and disinfect it. I will help you."
"Okay," said Harry. "How do I disinfect it? What is it?"
"It is the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. It has been infected with evil magic. So are you, by the way. I can help you with that."
"I'll do anything. Just show me where it is." The room provided a smaller chalkboard that was hand held.
"Take this with you and step back outside." Harry did as the room asked. Once he was back in the hallway, he spoke.
"Now what?" Harry asked. He felt silly talking to nothing. Haven wrote on the chalkboard in his hands.
"Pace back and forth three times. Say 'Show me the room of lost things.'" Harry did as the room asked. The door reappeared and Harry stepped inside.
"Wow," the boy said, staring around the room in awe. Some might have called the room a pile of junk but it was a pile of treasures to an 11 year old boy. Haven wrote on the chalkboard again. It gave directions through the maze of stuff to a busted looking cabinet with an ugly bust wearing an even uglier crown on top.
"Use the accio spell to bring a null box to you," Haven wrote.
"I don't know the accio spell," Harry said, forlornly. Haven took the time to instruct the boy on how to cast the spell. It was a great teacher and in less than a half of an hour, the boy had the spell down pat. He also had a pocket full of jewels, including one very special jewel that had been thrown in the room that very morning by an infuriating headmaster. The jewel was the philosopher's stone.
"I've seen this before!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yes," Haven responded. "It's the philosopher's stone. You might need the extra funds. Best to keep it since you found it in the first place. Now, call a magic null box to yourself."
Harry did as Haven asked. A large stone box came swiftly to his waiting hands.
"Use the levitation spell to put the diadem inside. DO NOT TOUCH IT," Haven instructed. Harry did as he was asked.
"Very good. Now, shrink the cabinet and take it with you."
"Er, I don't know that spell either," the boy said in a small voice. The very patient room took the next quarter hour to teach the boy the spell. The room was pleased he was a quick one. Haven had been designed by Rowena Ravenclaw, afterall. They both appreciated a quick wit.
Once the deed was done and the cabinet was shrunk and inside the boy's pocket, he left the room.
"Can I come back and look through this stuff later?" Harry asked, looking at all the lost treasures with longing.
"Of course. You'll have all summer to do many things Hogwarts would like to see done. For now, please come back to Haven." Harry did as the room asked.
Once he was back inside the room, he went back to the library. There was a strange new addition to the room. A large sarcophagus with Egyptian hieroglyphs etched all around the outside.
"Levitate the diadem inside of the sarcophagus and shut the lid," Haven instructed. Harry complied. Within a few moments, a scream the likes of which he had only heard once before screeched loudly into the room. It was the exact sound Quirrell made as he died. The sound stopped abruptly.
"What was that?" Harry asked, alarmed.
"That was the taint leaving the diadem. It is now merely a relick to assist with learning and deep thoughts once more. Please place it on the desk and climb inside yourself."
Harry gulped and backed away from the sarcophagus.
"You don't want to remain infected with Tom Riddle's soul, do you?" Haven asked, reprovingly.
Harry gasped. "What? I'm infected with a soul? Does that mean I'm possessed?"
"No," the room responded. "But you could be unless you are disinfected. Please, climb inside."
"Who's Tom Riddle?" Harry asked.
The name Tom Marvolo Riddle wrote itself on the chalkboard. The letters moved around until they spelled out 'I am Lord Voldemort'. Harry was stunned. He was infected with a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul!
Harry took a deep breath and called upon his Gryffindor courage. He moved the ugly crown out of the box and sat it on the desk. He climbed inside the sarcophagus and steeled himself before lying down. The lid was hard to shut from this position but Harry managed it with a little help from the room, unbeknownst to him. It was dark and scary inside.
At first, nothing happened. Then a sudden white hot bolt of pain hit his scar. He felt nauseous and dizzy. The world felt like it was toppling head over feet down a very long flight of stairs. That's when Harry heard the screaming begin. He couldn't help but join in. That's when he lost consciousness.
Harry awoke an indeterminate amount of time later. He struggled with the lid for a few moments before it started to slide to the side, like a well oiled hinge. The boy sat up and wretched. He lost his breakfast onto the floor.
The mess disappeared almost instantly. A small table appeared with some fizzy, mint flavored water in a cup on the top. Harry heard the chalkboard scratching with writing.
"Drink," the chalkboard said. Harry didn't hesitate. He gingerly sipped the fizzy water. It settled his stomach immediately. He sighed in relief.
"What happened?" Harry asked, groggily.
"You've been disinfected. The taint is gone. You're free. Wash your face." Haven replied. A cloth set in a cool bowl of water appeared on the small table. Harry wiped his face. Black, tacky goo came away from his forehead. It took several passes for the space to be cleaned. Harry felt his forehead. His scar was still there.
"I thought my scar might be gone," Harry said in relief. It was one of the things he liked best about his appearance.
"No, the scar is a curse scar. It will always remain. Good thing, too. No one must know that you cleared the taint. Dumbledore wouldn't like it. When all the taint has been cleared from the world, we can tell him together," Haven reassured the boy. "Now, it's almost time for dinner. You must go."
Harry was disappointed to be leaving Haven. He felt safe here.
"You can take the handheld chalkboard with you so we may communicate but you must go. You'll be missed if you don't. The leaving feast is tonight. Tomorrow you must ride the train back to London. I have a plan for you then. Send a letter to your relatives tonight. Tell them you won't be coming back, ever."
Harry grinned around the room. "I like the sound of that," he replied.
Harry stood up, dusted himself off, and left the room.
oooOOOoooOOOooo