NOTES: Portions of the text below were lines of dialogue from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" by JRK and are therefore NOT mine. More comments below.

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*****

CHAPTER VIII: Harry Through the Looking Glass

*****

"So Mum and Dad are taking us all to Romania for Christmas to see Charlie," Ron said happily.

Hermione, busy color coordinating her notes with various inks looked up. "Just our regular Christmas at home for me. But it will be nice to see my parents again. I've missed them. What about you Harry?"

Harry looked up from the book he was flipping through, Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century. On the library table before him sat Alchemy: 1800-1950, Notable Magical Names of Our Time, The Search from Lead to Gold: Volume 1, and Important Modern Magical Discoveries.

Padfoot hadn't recognized the name Nicolas Flamel. He said it had sounded familiar but he couldn't remember from where. Armed with determination and the Hogwart's library Harry was making his search for the elusive Mr. Flamel to discover what exactly he had invented that was worth breaking into Gringotts and Hogwarts for. Once he knew that, maybe he could figure out who could be after the mysterious object in the first place.

He'd told Padfoot, Hermione, and Ron that it was a follow up to something out of Professor Binns lectures in History of Magic. Not even Hermione wanted to help him there, though she was the only one who managed to always pay attention the ghost's class.

"Going home as well," Harry said with a smile. "Christmas is always a little crazy at Moor House."

Ron leaned forward eager to hear more about living with the Sirius Black. Harry didn't quite understand the interest in his godfather but didn't mind as the attention wasn't of the spiteful, fearful kind Padfoot faced every time he went out in public.

So Harry abandoned his search-- Nicholas Flamel suddenly unimportant --and in a soft voice he told them about snowball fights and Quidditch in the snow. He spoke about decorating the whole house and waking up the portraits in the forgotten hallways. He told them about the magic lights Sirius insisted they put up all over the outside of the house. He told them about making snow animals instead of snow wizards: dogs, wolves, hawks, and stags. There was Christmas dinner and Christmas crackers and stocking that were emptied on Christmas Eve, presents opened on Christmas morning. And he told them how there was always a present just for him under the tree.

The others listened and shared a look. They'd never seen Harry's green eyes glow with such happiness unless he was flying. When Harry grew embarrassed by their rapt expressions they shared their own stories-- Ron talking about how incredible it would be to see Charlie, his favorite older brother, again and watch him work with dragons. Hermione spoke of how all her relatives, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents would come over and how out of all of them she was the only witch. She told them about how proud her parents were even if they didn't tell the extended family what exactly Hermione was studying at the prestigious boarding school she'd been invited to attend.

Suddenly the holidays seemed so much closer and they joined the eager ranks of students counting down the days until the winter break.

Classes ended in what seemed like a rush and suddenly they were all packed and on the train heading for King's Cross Station.

*****

Harry practically fell out of the car under the tide of students behind him. Hogwarts had released its charges and they were most happy to be free. Harry tucked his gold and red scarf a little tighter against the cold. He'd had not time to change out of his uniform on the train being so caught up in a rousing game of Exploding Snap.

"Ron! Fred! George! Percy!" A warm redheaded woman descended amid the swarming students and grabbed the Weasley boys tight, bestowing embarrassing (though secretly loved) noisy kisses on each.

"Aw Mum!" Ron complained getting free and wiping his cheek off in disgust as Hermione fought to hide her laugher by heading to the baggage car to get her trunk.

Grinning Harry ignored Ron's look of false misery and tried to peer around taller people for any sight of his godfather or Moony.

"Now everyone gather your things! Don't forget anything." Mrs. Weasley took charge of the chaos shepherding her boys and Harry to their trunks.

Ron tugged on his mum's sleeve, wanting to introduce his friends. Desperate to avoid the scene that would occur at the sight of him, Harry ducked out of the redhead reunion and hurried to join Hermione.

He grabbed his trunk, lightened with a charm and placed Hedwig's cage atop of it. He helped Hermione gather her own belongings, only half listening to her speak as he scanned the platform anxiously for his own guardians.

"Harry. Harry!"

The black-haired boy whirled around to see Hermione giving him an exasperated look.

"You aren't listening at all!"

Blushing, Harry began to mutter excuses when hands grabbed him from behind causing him to almost jump out of his skin. He found himself whirled around and facing the Weasley matriarch.

"Mum, this is Hermione," Ron said. "And this is Harry."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and shook Hermione's hand and then turned to stare at Harry.

Harry fought the urge to brush down his hair over his forehead.

Her face softened at the sight of him and she patted his shoulder maternally. "So nice to meet you, Harry dear. Ron's told me all about you in his letters." She gestured at the chaos on the platform. "This place is a madhouse. Families everywhere-- Fred stop pestering and help Percy with his trunk! --porters only letting out a few students at a time, apparation platform clogged, and some maniac came flying in on a great black motorcycle!"

Harry's heart leapt and her words. Not caring about politeness, he let out a piercing whistle that was more akin to a bird's cry than anything human that cut through the din sharply.

A sea of faces turned to face him, but for the first time Harry was completely oblivious to them. His attention was squarely fixed on the black barking blur that plunged through the crowd straight for him.

Screeching, Mrs. Weasley yanked Ron and a baffled Hermione aside. Harry dodged her arms and allowed himself to be bowled over by the giant overenthusiastic puppy.

"Harry!"

"Hey, You all right!?"

"Sweet Merlin, that's a huge dog!"

"Get off him! Harry! Harry!"

But Harry wasn't listening to his friends or the rest of the Weasleys. He was trying in vain to fight down laughter as a wet tongue tickled him unmercifully. Sitting up, Harry threw his arms around the giant dog's neck.

"Er . . . Harry?" Ron asked tentatively discovering his best friend was not crying out in pain at being eaten alive.

The dog stopped and turned to regard the watching Weasleys and Hermione. Dismissing them as unimportant he began to dig his black nose into his prey's unprotected underbelly causing Harry to squeak and bat him away.

"Sirius!" Harry protested, laughing.

With a sudden pop, there was no longer a massive grim-like dog but a black haired man crouched beside the wizarding savior, his hands on Harry's slight shoulders.

"Sirius!" Harry threw his arms back around his godfather's neck, hugging him tight in greeting. The man pulled back and smiled down at the boy.

"Hello Harry! Miss me?"

Harry nodded feverently.

"Good," Sirius said firmly. "Got everything?" he asked as they both stood.

"My trunk and Hedwig," Harry said pointing to his belongings.

"Hedwig can fly home I think," Sirius said opening the cage for the snowy owl to fly off. He then shrunk the luggage and placed them in his robe pocket. He then eyed Harry carefully. "I think we won't shrink you," Sirius said with a smile sweeping a startled but delighted Harry up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Sirius then turned, all business and shook Mrs. Weasley's hand. "Please excuse us," he said causally.

Sirius strode through the crowd away from his stunned audience. Harry waved at his friends over Sirius's shoulder.

"Bye Ron, Bye Hermione!" he called cheerfully. "Bye Percy, Bye George and Fred. It was very nice to meet you Mrs. Weasley! Happy Christmas!"

Stunned, only Fred vaguely managed to wave back.

"That's Harry's godfather?" Hermione asked in amazement. "The Sirius Black?"

The roar of an engine started and the group watched as the Christmas crowd scattered as a black motorcycle accelerated forward with a squeal of rubber. Harry was sitting in front of Sirius, hands on the handlebars. One of the man's arms was wrapped tightly around his godson's waist, the other on the handlebars of the bike. They watched as the machine rose into the air and shivered then vanished as the invisibility spell took effect.

"Well! That's a fine garden of gnomes, no mistake!" Mrs. Weasley huffed, finding her voice at last. "Riding a flying motorcycle with a little boy, no helmets, no safety spells."

"Brilliant!" Ron breathed.

"Yeah, imagine what our car would be like," George said with shining eyes.

Mrs. Weasley grabbed his ear. "George Weasley! Don't you even think about flying that car!"

*****

The clouds parted and Harry leaned over staring down, down, down at Moor House far below.

"Home," Harry murmured happily.

He felt Sirius press a kiss to his hair with a smile. "Going down."

They descended rapidly, landing with barely a thump and rolled into the garage. Both got off the bike and hurried inside the warm house. In the foyer Sirius helped Harry unwind his scarf, hanging it up and let Harry balance by holding onto his hands as his godson toed off his boots. Sirius slipped off the boy's outer robe further mussing his wild hair.

"How's my Harry?" he asked warmly.

"Good," Harry said after a moment.

Padfoot smiled, tapping Harry's red nose with a finger, laughing as his godson went cross eyes for a moment.

Sweeping Harry back up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes he strode like the conquering hero into the house. "Moony!" he called playfully. "I'm hooome!"

Harry smothered his glee in Padfoot's robes.

Remus emerged from his study, eyes widening at the sight of the two of them.

"So you're back are you?" he asked, crossing his arms, leaning against the door jam.

"Yes, the mighty hunter Sirius has returned, as successful as his namesake. See what I caught? He was just all alone, a little hawk, standing in the snow just waiting to be snatched up."

Remus leaned over and winked his greeting at Harry, playing along as he straightened back up. "All alone you say? This little bird? You are very lucky to get a hold of such a rare creature Mr. Padfoot. They are very fierce."

"Oh, I know Mr. Moony," Sirius agreed as they turned and began making their way up the stairs. "These little hawks are very hard to come by."

"So what do you intend to do with him Mr. Padfoot?"

Sirius paused on the landing before nodding decisively. "I'm going to tame him."

"Tame him? Tame this fearsome bird?" Remus poked Harry in the side, prompting protests and laughter from the boy.

"Hmm, it will be difficult, but I refuse to give up. I've already caught him with promises of Christmas dinner and I have managed to lure him into our quite cozy den. Now we must make him comfortable and hope he nests."

"Nests?" Harry squeaked.

"Excellent idea Mr. Padfoot," Lupin said heading down the hall to Harry's room.

"Thank you, Mr. Moony. I do my best."

They entered the room with a flourish, Remus casting a spell for light, Sirius digging absently into his pocket for the shrunk trunk and cage for Remus to unshrink. The black haired Marauder then dropped Harry onto his bed with a bounce.

"A little Harry hawk in his nest," Sirius aid fondly staring down at the boy. He then collapsed onto the bed himself with a thump. He crossed his arms behind his head and sighed in utter relaxation on his old bed. "I think he'll be convinced to stay. It's quite comfortable."

Remus sat cross-legged at the bottom of the bed leaning back with a wriggle against the carved bed post, pillowed by the curtains. "Hmmm, yes. We might just have us a permanent Harry hawk in the house. I think I might just move in here too."

The boy sat up against the headboard. "Mr. Talons has decided to stay," Harry announced.

"Wonderful!" Sirius said, blue eyes looking up and green. "I'm glad you're staying."

Remus looked out of the big bay windows and shook his head. "Dark already. I guess I got a bit caught up in my writing." The werewolf's stomach grumbled in agreement.

Harry reached out and held Moony's ink stained hands in his.

"How's the book coming?" he asked.

"Very well."

"Can I read it?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Sure," Moony said smoothing down the boy's wild hair.

Harry turned and patted Sirius on the head. "What about your job? How is it going?"

"Yes Padfoot, how is your mysterious job going? You're volunteering somewhere right?" Lupin asked very much interested as to where Sirius disappeared to at odd hours of the day. "Gone early in the morning. Sometimes," he confided to Harry "he returns soaking wet, other days muddy beyond belief. He refuses to tell me what exactly he is up to. Me, a fellow marauder. I ask you, is that fair? Perhaps you can get it out of him, Mr. Talons."

Harry turned expectantly, curiosity peeked by the mystery.

"Oh, no!" Sirius said with a laugh. "Trust me Harry, it's very boring. It's just a job."

"Doing what?" Harry asked.

"Oh nothing much," Sirius said vaguely, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. Those eyes would get him if he wasn't careful. Lily used to pull the same trick on James to find out top secret Marauder information and James would always caved. Pathetic really. Sirius was going to be strong. It didn't matter that this was his adorable little godson, with wide green eyes and earnest, innocent looking features. He would be strong.

"Just stuff, Harry," he said, voice nearly cracking for the first time since he was about 14, much to his embarrassment, and Moony's vocal glee. "Really. It's going fine. A little weather never hurt anyone." Obviously desperate for a change of subject he jumped up off the bed. Must avoid eyes, must avoid eyes. "Come on, lets get some dinner, hmm? Padfoot's famous lamb curry is all ready and waiting. We don't want to keep Mr. Moony waiting now do we Young Mr. Talons?"

*****

Something cold and wet touched the back of his neck. Harry jumped and realizing what it was burrowed deeper beneath the covers.

There was a faint popping sound, then: "Harry. Wake up."

"S'morning?" he mumbled into the pillow.

Sirius laughed quietly, rubbing his back through the duvet. "Yes, it's morning, Christmas morning."

Green eyes snapped open. "Christmas?" Harry asked turning to stare at his godfather sitting on his bed.

Sirius nodded.

Blinking sleepily in the morning light, Harry rubbed his eyes. Sirius plucked glasses off the bedside table and placed them carefully on Harry's nose, pushing them gently into place.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow and hugged his godfather with one arm. "Happy Christmas, Padfoot."

"Happy Christmas. Now come on, presents, breakfast, and more presents."

*****

Harry flew high above the Quidditch pitch, searching for the snitch so that the practice game could end and the frozen Gryffindor players could head back inside. Though with the new lined winter cloak from Remus at Christmas as well as the surprise gift of a jumper from Ron's mother kept him from freezing.

Christmas had also meant a hand carved flute from Hagrid, new custom made gloves and wrist guards from Padfoot as well as several first edition books on rare spells and hexes for duelers, and a book on the Founders of Hogwarts, a secret passion. Harry loved reading about ancient history in the magical world, he just wished Professor Binns wasn't so bigoted against goblins so that they could discuss something, anything else in History of Magic.

Christmas has also meant finding a package on his pillow in his dorm room when he got back, the note written in a familiar hand.

You might remember this. Your father left this in my possession before he died. I have kept it since. It is time it was returned to you.

Use It Well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

Thoughts, possibilities, various warnings, and threats had flashed through his mind at reading it. It left him feeling very funny, like someone had reached into his chest and took hold of his heart in a giant hand. He remembered this from long ago when Moony had snuck into Sirius's hotel room. But Harry hadn't know that it was his father's invisibility cloak, now coming to him with instructions in the Headmaster's hand.

Absently, he reach out and caught the snitch ending practice.

The Gryffindor team landed, some nursing minor hurts from the rigorous practice, others nearly frozen stiff despite the constant activity. Picking up their equipment after wrestling the two Bludgers to the ground they headed back inside.

"Harry." Oliver stopped him just as he was leaving. "I've just heard. Snape will be refereeing our game against Hufflepuff next week."

Harry blinked. Snape. On a broom. Forget the worry about having the Professor so close to him while flying after the jinxed broom during his first match, this was Snape. On a broom. In his mind he pictured a bat with Snape's face on it flapping above the Quidditch pitch, and tried very had not to laugh in Oliver's face.

"It's up to you to catch the snitch as fast as possible, otherwise our dear potion's professor will favor Hufflepuff right into the Quidditch final!" Oliver explained as he steered them both back inside the castle.

Harry nodded. He could very well see Professor Snape (Snape on a broom? What was the world coming to?) giving Hufflepuff every advantage over Gryffindor. No doubt his pride still smarted after Gryffindor had flattened his House last time.

Ron did not take the news well. As a Quidditch aficionado he got all the latest Quidditch gossip not only from Gryffindor's team but all the other Houses as well, even, despite their mutual loathing for each other, Slytherin. The youngest Weasley boy was dead set against Harry playing, claiming that the Potion Master would use this as an opportunity to send Harry falling to his doom. He was, for Harry's benefit, concocting ways in which Harry could temporarily incapacitate himself for the game.

Hermione thought Ron had gone totally mad. And told him so. Often.

Harry, however, was determined to play. Sirius had been ecstatic over his first win and had sent him a congratulatory card which had showered Gryffindor table with gold and red confetti the morning after the November match.

Poor Hedwig, tired from an all night round trip had nevertheless been smugly perched on Harry's shoulder for all of breakfast, preening her boy's hair like he was one of her owlets, wearing as proud an expression as is possible for an owl. Harry thought she was just showing off to the Slytherin owls that glowered at Harry much the way their masters and mistresses did.

It only helped Ron's belief that Snape was out to kill him when Potions took on near torturous qualities for Harry. The man stood right behind him as the Gryffindor tried to prepare potions. Every class was a battle not to freeze in fright, to stop his hands from desperately shaking, from letting the world slip sideways and the hated memory of his aunt's shrill voice and his uncle's booming rage filling his ears like a roar. To make matters worse the dark shape of the Professor began to hovered around every corner, practically stalking Harry around Hogwarts.

Over the next week Harry struggled to find time to search for Nicholas Flamel without being watched. He didn't want Professor Snape to catch him. Ron and Hermione were growing suspicious about his "project" as well, but Harry desperately wanted to keep them away from his search for fear they would get hurt.

Abandoning sleep, he took to slipping on the silvery, near liquid cloak and heading to the library in the dead of night. For hours he read, even venturing into the Restricted Section reading from books he could trust not to give him away to Flitch and Mrs. Norris. He was on Volume 17 of The Search from Lead to Gold which incidentally was written entirely in a bastardized form of French and Latin, which meant he had to carry around several massive dictionaries just to read the thing, and still there was no mention of Nicholas Flamel's great invention.

Practice only intensified, class work grew. Harry developed shadows under his eyes.

*****

Harry wandered down the corridor at night, brushing his fingers along the rough hewn walls as he walked, eyes closed. His feet knew the way to the library well enough now. He pushed open the door in silence and taking two steps forward bumped into a desk. Steadying both it and himself before he fell, Harry opened his eyes and blinked about the dusty space of the classroom in mild surprise. He had no idea where he was, only that somehow the castle had lead him here instead of the library.

Checking around to make sure that there was no one there, Harry made sure the door wouldn't lock behind him before closing it softly.

He pulled off his father's cloak and stared at the large sheen surface of the mirror that stood reaching the ceiling of the small classroom.

It was a golden framed with intricate carvings. Across the top was carved the words erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

It was like no language Harry had ever seen.

He stepped closer cautiously.

But any thoughts of worry and fear seemed strangely far away right now. It was as if this room was sealed from the rest of the world, silent, calm. The castle hummed with night energy and curiosity drove Harry closer. He stepped in front of it and whirled around with a cry.

The classroom was empty behind him.

Breathing very fast, he turned back slowly, eyes wide as he took in the scene in front of him.

There was Padfoot and Moony, but they looked so young and they were beaming at him like they had a secret to share. And they did. They pulled two other people into Harry's view.

The woman had red hair, bright green eyes and was smiling, smiling, so happy. She was crying, laughing and crying, she reached out to touch him--

Harry knew her.

He'd never seen a single picture, never managed to work up the nerve to ask, too afraid of upsetting Padfoot and Moony, but he knew.

"Mum," Harry whispered, standing close to the mirror now, hands pressed against the glass as if he could fall in and just hold her.

And the man beside her, with his wild hair and oh so familiar features. Harry had met a James Potter once before in the other world, a bitter, broken man, but this man, this man . . .

This was his father.

"Dad," he said softly, smiling.

They were alive.

And Sirius was messing up his father's hair who batted his friend away, laughing. And Remus had dug out a handkerchief for his mother, and they were all waving and smiling. Harry stared and stared; he couldn't get enough of seeing the four of them, seeing the way they were together. There was this ache in his chest, and he had to fight to breath, like he was about to cry, but he never cried, he never--

Remus seemed so confident and at ease like a wolf that finally had his pack about him, complete at last. Sirius was pure joy, playing, pranking, happy, so so happy, no longer tinged with the slightly manic edge left over from Azkaban. The shadows were gone from both of them. Harry could see the difference between his guardians and it was so striking his body shook.

His mum placed a concerned hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Harry gasped, his skin tingling as if he really felt her hand there. His father's eyes shone with pride, not distant anger or regret; he was everything he'd been told Prongs was. There was love in his eyes, love and safety and warmth.

And he didn't know how long he stood there, nose practically pressed up against the glass watching them, smiling as they waved, Remus lounged on a couch comfortable in his own skin grinning at his friend's son through the glass, his mother blew him a kiss . . .

"Harry."

. . . Padfoot brushed a gentle, familiar hand through his hair, Prongs had reached around him to hug him from behind, Harry could swear he felt the warmth and strength of those arms. He wanted to lean back against his father's strong chest and close his eyes and let all of his worries go, let every fear vanish in the safety he provided, but that would mean not seeing, not seeing their faces, and he couldn't look away, would never look away; he was safe, safe, safe--

"Harry, come away. Come away now."

Someone dragged him away, and the image faded. "No--!"

He scrambled for a moment, trying to pull free, get back in front of the mirror—they couldn't be gone, they just couldn't! --but that hand was immensely powerful.

"Harry, Harry!"

Someone was calling his name, the voice was familiar. Harry managed to look up. Shocked, Harry gasped and stopped fighting.

It was Professor Dumbledore.

The Headmaster led him from the mirror gently as if he were the one made of glass.

Blinking, Harry stared around the sunlit classroom. It was morning.

"W-what?" he managed in bewilderment.

A hand on his chin forced him to focus on the Professor. "I am so sorry Harry. I had placed wards around this room to prevent students from finding the Mirror of Erised, but somehow this old castle let you through."

"Mirror of Erised?" Harry could only echo, trying to being some semblance of order to his thoughts. He could still feel his father's arms around him, see his mother's--

"Yes, Harry that is what it is called. I had not taken into account Hogwart's own . . . independence in this matter. This mirror has caused people to waste away in front of it, driving some mad with what it shows."

"Mad?" Harry asked in disbelief. Who could be driven mad when faced with such a wonderful picture?

"It shows us the most desperate desire of our innermost heart. It gives neither knowledge or truth," the Headmaster explained quietly.

Harry looked back at the framed mirror now, eyes no longer caught on the image in the glass but the words at the top. I show not your face but your hearts desire.

"It wasn't real," he said quietly. "It never was and it never will be."

"Harry, once again I must apologize. With your . . . personal history, this mirror is more dangerous to you than most. I should have realized that Hogwarts would bring you here with you working yourself into exhaustion." The old wizard rubbed Harry's shoulder comfortingly. "Such tired eyes, my boy. What is it that you have been scouring the library for night after night?"

Harry bit his lip and wondered if he should tell. "Nicholas Flamel's great invention, sir," he admitted.

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "You have been doing this properly haven't you? What volume are you on in Search from Lead to Gold if I may ask?"

"I just finished volume 17, sir."

"One wonders when you find the time for such simple things such as sleep and eating," Dumbledore scolded gently. "Neither your godfather, nor your professors or classmates, nor I would have you wasting away before our eyes due to the mirror or your own actions. Let the library be for a few days. And when you do visit, perhaps do so before curfew, hmmm? Take some time to rest, to sleep. I believe you have Quidditch game coming up tomorrow."

The two of them made their way to the door; Harry had to fight not to turn around and get one last glimpse of the mirror.

"The mirror will be moved," Dumbledore said gently, guiding the boy into the corridor and closing the door behind him with a finality that shook Harry. "I ask you not to go looking for it again for the castle seems only too happy to aid you in your searches."

Harry blushed, and ducked his head. "Yes sir. I-I'm sorry I--"

The Headmaster raised a hand to stop him. "Do not apologize, my boy. Its call is most potent; I should have taken greater precaution." Out of thin air he pulled out a note. "I believe that you have missed breakfast and Professor Snape is missing you from his class."

Harry stared at the letter and paled.

"I don't think you should spend the time going back up to the tower for your books," Dumbledore said with amusement as he placed Harry's bag over his shoulder. "Professor Snape seemed most anxious about your absence when he informed me you were not in class this morning."

Shocked, Harry could only accepted his school bag and grip the excuse note pressed into his hand. Stammering his goodbyes and thanks to the Headmaster he bolted for the Potion classroom.

*****

That night Harry slept fitfully. Nightmares formed of the dreaded green light stealing away his parents amid a high pitched laugh. Dementors stalked his dreams like dark shapes pulling a dull eyed Sirius into the black with them. Remus changed, screaming in the pain of the transformation, clawing and biting and injuring himself until blood matted his fur and he shuddered and lay still.

It was Ron who came and shook him from his sleep, rescuing him from his dreams, who sat with him as he clutched at his blankets with white knuckled hands, teeth clenched trying not to scream.

It was Hedwig who woke him in the morning, her wings brushing against his face. Blinking, Harry sat up finding himself tangled amid his sheets in one tiny corner of his bed, Ron sprawled across the covers taking up the rest of the room. Smiling softly, he brushed Hedwig's feathers in good morning and getting up made sure to cover Ron before heading for the bathroom.

Harry, having avoided Ron's well meaning attempts to injure him, dressed in his uniform, grabbed his broom and headed out with the rest of the team to face Hufflepuff. Knowing his friends were prepared for the worst, bringing their wands along for the game made him smile even in the face of potential death.

He mounted up, trying not to stare too hard at Professor Snape, (Snape! on a broom!) for fear that he would fall off laughing and save whoever was trying to kill him the trouble. Harry began to search the skies for the snitch.

Lee Jordan announced the first plays loudly, and Harry kept an ear on what was going on, his eyes searching for gold or the whooshing black shape of the Bludgers careening about. As per Oliver's tactics, Harry stayed far above the Chaser play to prevent tricks from knocking him out of the game.

Watching the first skirmishes as Fred and George swooped about, he head Professor Snape's voice cut through the cheering and Lee's announcements, calling out a penalty against Gryffindor.

Oliver was right, he had to finish this match quickly.

Harry rose and stared down at the Quidditch play swirling below him, gold and black, scarlet and yellow. Suddenly a flutter of shining light caught Harry's eye.

Like a shot Harry went into a spectacular dive, shooting straight down--

--so fast he brushed passed the chasers knocking the Quaffle into Gryffindor possession and nearly causing a four person midair accident and then--

"Foul Gryffindor!"

--Lee was screaming that--

"--ook at him go!"

--he flew past the stunned Potion Professor, nothing more than a blur, missing him by mere inches practically knocking the man off his Comet--

The ground was rushing towards him.

"He's seen the-"

Reaching out lighting fast he snatched the snitch.

"Harry Potter catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, shouts, and whistles. No one could remember the snitch being caught so fast, ending the game so quickly.

Letting the golden winged ball flutter faintly in his palm, Harry grinned. He looked up and saw the Professor staring down at him, barely hanging onto his broom with a bitter snarl on his face.

"Harry!" Katie yelled, waving as she flew over to him along with the rest of the team. He was nearly knocked off his Nimbus by Oliver's pounding on his back, the crushing hugs, the deafening excited screams.

"Go Go Gryffindor! Go Go Gryffindor!" their housemates cheered, waving red and gold flags excitedly.

They descended to earth in a pile of brooms and arms and legs, but Harry soon found himself hoisted up on the twin's shoulders. He blushed red and with embarrassment causing Fred and George to laugh, but they wouldn't let him down no matter how much he pleaded.

He stared down at the students and caught sight of Hermione and a bloodied Ron supporting a collapsed Neville who were waving at him, yelling their heads off.

The night and its horrors seemed very far away now.

They'd won, they'd won!

For the first time in years Gryffindor had the chance of meeting Slytherin in the finals and winning.

*****

There was talk of another party in the Gryffindor tower to celebrate. Harry wanted nothing more than to beg off, knowing he'd be the center of attention. Using the need for a shower as an excuse he escaped to the locker room to change, finding he indeed had a locker with a spare set of school robes hanging neatly, waiting to be used. Carrying his broom over his shoulder, he headed back out onto the grounds, relieved to find the crowds had disappeared.

He was just about to head back inside and brave the Gryffindor common room before Ron, no doubt, came to look for him, when he saw a cloaked figure hurry out across the grounds. He'd recognize that prowling stride anywhere.

Professor Snape.

The Potion Master was headed into the Forbidden Forest.

Without a second thought, Harry mounting his Nimbus 2000 and took off after him, silently following behind, dodging tree limbs and branches as he kept the man in his sights.

In a dark clearing, the Professor at last stopped, but he wasn't alone.

"I-I d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus . . ."

It was Professor Quirrell, Harry realized, moving as close as he dared.

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone after all."

The Philosopher's Stone? Was that what Nicholas Flamel created? And what was that about students? Did the Professor know he was watching?

Realizing he'd missed a bit of the conversation, Harry leaned forward.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I--"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell."

"I don't know what you--"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

"B-but I d--don't--"

"We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie."

Professor Snape then left the clearing. Stunned, Harry could only hover in the growing darkness eyes drawn to the unmoving form of Quirrell who looked as if he'd been turned to stone. A sudden burning pain on his forehead had Harry gasping in pain. Quickly, before he was heard he flew back out of the Forest.

The pain began to fade as he approached Hogwarts. He landed and stared up at the magically lit castle. What had that conversation meant? Harry hadn't thought that Snape could be after this Philosopher's Stone, whatever it was. Maybe he was preventing other people from getting it? Dumbledore trusted him, had known he'd gone to the Third Floor corridor during the troll attack. Filch had bandaged the wound himself.

But if Professor Snape had gone up there on the Headmaster's orders why didn't he go to Madam Pomfrey to be healed? a voice whispered worriedly in his mind.

The Potion Master also wanted to know how to get past the three headed dog, and didn't want students like Harry figuring things out. If he was helping protect this Philosopher's Stone under Dumbledore's orders then how come he didn't know himself?

But the Headmaster wouldn't let someone he didn't trust in the school, would he?

Professor Dumbledore isn't perfect, the voice whispered again. He's human, he makes mistakes.

Was that what the note on the invisibility cloak meant?

Use It Well.

What was going on? Harry felt as if he was missing something key, something crucial and this whole mess would make sense and he would finally, finally know why he was supposed to be here at Hogwarts at all.

Taking a deep breath and filled with new resolve, Harry hurried up the steps and into the library and over to the shelf on Alchemy. He'd kept out as per Dumbledore's request, but the Quidditch match was over, and surely this was important enough to do a little bit of research before attending the party in the common room.

He stared up at The Search from Lead to Gold volumes 1 through 34 and wished for the hundredth time for an index or that he could risk asking Hermione and Ron for help. Despite what Ron had said at Halloween about Gryffindor's sticking up for each other, protecting one another, Harry couldn't bear the thought of them being hurt because of what he must do.

It was bad enough the last time he'd had a dream so powerful, that he couldn't prevent Padfoot and Moony being dragged into the adventure with him.

Where Padfoot had been so horribly tortured.

No, he steeled himself. Professor Snape might be bad, but he was right about one thing.

Harry's own risk taking would only get others killed. If he was going to be a "foolhardy" Gryffindor he would risk himself and no one else.

No more blood on my hands, he thought to himself, clenching his fists tight. No more.

Dragging a chair over from one of the study tables he perched nimbly on its back and reached for the top shelf for Volume 18. He must have been more tired than he thought because he lost his balance and fell with a thump on the stone floor. A good half a dozen books fell on top of him and Harry rubbed his head ruefully, hissing under his breath at the pain.

He stared up at the massive bookshelf and scowled. He'd never fell before. Sighing, he sorted through the mess of books his eyes caught on very words he'd been looking for: Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone.

He picked up the book and stared at the spine.

Volume 19.

It figured.

But then what was it that Professor Dumbledore had said? "The castle seems only too happy to aid you in your searches."

Harry reached out and patted the cold floor stones of the library in thanks; it was worth the bruises to not have to slog through Volume 18. He read through the entry quickly realizing that the Elixir of Life was something so powerful that most anyone would want it. Immortality and unlimited gold, wasn't that what everyone wished for in the stories?

But that widened the field of potential suspects greatly and made the situation much more dangerous.

The Elixir of Life was so valuable that anyone crazy enough to break into Gringotts and Hogwarts to get it wouldn't hesitate to kill for it.

Unlimited personal gain and the unlimited life to enjoy it with. That was valuable enough that perhaps some of the Hogwarts' staff couldn't help wanting it for themselves.

Including Professor Snape

Replacing the books he headed up to the Gryffindor tower, deep in thought.

Seamus grabbed him the second he entered through the portrait hole, shoving a glass of punch into his hand. "Where have you been? We can't have a party without you! We're in the finals!"

"Yeah and I managed to give Malfoy a black eye," Ron said smugly, joining the two of them, his nose still slightly swollen from its earlier bleeding. "Neville took on Crabbe and Goyle single handedly. He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey said he'd be all right. Bravest thing, really." The redhead caught the look on Harry's face and frowned. "Harry, what is it?"

The green eyed boy shook his head and forced a smile. "Nothing, Ron."

*****

Like the last chapter this one covered quite a long period of time and a number of events. It feels kind of jumpy, but it will calm down plot wise next chapter all the way to the end. First book is like that thought, it is a series of stories and individual events leading up to the end of the year. The other books have a much more cohesive story arch, not that I mind if you guys don't. grin

Harry's solving a lot of this mystery on his own even after sort of promising Ron and Hermione he wouldn't. That is going to cause some tension when the truth comes out! ;) But Snape really did a number on him at the end of last chapter. I hope you guys like how Snape is turning out. I don't want him going soft, neutral was very firm about that.

And I hope you guys also liked the Mirror scene. I wasn't sure if it worked, but what I really loved about the book was how Harry really gets caught up in the mirror and even Ron tells him not to keep going back, but Harry can barely think during the day, his every thought consumed by the mirror. I hope I did that part justice.

So review please and let me know what you thought of Snape and the Mirror, Christmas and Quidditch.

Recommendations: I would recommend "Never alone, Never again" by Bored Beyond Belief to be read but that would be like recommending you guys to breathe. You'd be fools not to go read it. So I shall also recommend another wonderful story and in keeping with the Snape discussion above it is a Serveritus (I hope I spelled that right) Challenge fic called "How Soon the Rain" by Artemisu. The first chapter kind of threw me, but give it time and keep reading. This story is rich in detail, and starts in sixth year, hinting at the battles Harry fought in fifth year. An AU with very interesting takes on all of our favorite character as well as some new ones that are unobtrusive and supporting minor characters only that in no way detract from the tale. Lots of stuff about Slytherin, some parselmouth moments, and some great details about school life at Hogwarts. Sometimes writers and readers tend to forget that this is a SCHOOL! If there are those of you who don't like to read Serveritus Challenge fics, check out "Old and Ancient Magic" by Angel of the North. You've got to focus when reading this one, as it feels like you've come in during the middle of a film at the cinema. But some wonderful Narnia references and it starts with a most unexpected death and goes from there.

Review Comments: Thanks to all of you who reviewed!

Athenakitty- Harry got the Quidditch Through the Ages book back from Snape at the end of the last chapter. As for a potion to help with the neglect and abuse he suffered as a child, I don't think such a fix all exists. Harry suffered a lot in Western Stars which has had a permanent effect. For all the powers of magic, some things time heals and as the Sorting Hat said earlier, some things never heal.

Liara- having an all powerful hero is boring. Harry is powerful, but even he has his limits plus, a lot of what he knows is theory only. Remember first chapter. He can do things on instinct, but sometimes it is careful thought that is needed. School isn't in any way wasted on Harry educationally or socially.

Bored Beyond Belief - aiiiiieee! You. Reviewed. My. Story. THANK YOU! You and neutral were the first Harry Potter FF that I ever read. You inspired me! And now you review. Yay! I love your fic, (see the rec above, see? See?) As for this being a ff of a ff, I've never heard that term. In other fandoms it was called "playing in someone else's sandbox" which sounds much better to me. grin I'm glad you approve of my take on WS Harry; he is very difficult to write. As for Sirius and Remus, I have such fun writing those two. They are great characters with a lot of emotional baggage you can play around with in stories. As for Dumbledore, I'm glad you think I managed to capture his spirit. I love him in your fic too. I think it is too easy to just paint him manipulative or crazy. Thank you for your comments. I have struggled to make this more than a rewrite of 1st year. I am glad you think I succeeded.

NightSpear- Canon Snape is a must. I love his character. Dumbledore's conversation with Harry worked on so many levels, I am glad you enjoyed it. I didn't want to give much away, but you can tell there are things being said and things being said between the two of them. As for what happened with the AU Dumbledore, I've given you all I've got: the man was afraid and wary of Harry's power at age eight and took ruthless advantage of it for his own world's benefit, uncaring of the boy himself. For more, go bug neutral. Grin

me- I totally understand how that could happen. Harry has quite a bit of power and is very focuses. This first year he attended Hogwarts mostly because of his dream and premonitions. And no, your criticism was not rude. Trust me I've heard rude, people telling me never to write again, and more rude personal comments—you were polite, explanatory and honest. Thank you. Hermione and Ron are being left out of the loop, that was something neutral and I discussed before I started writing. I've tried my best to explain Harry's motivation for doing so. Is he wrong for doing so? Yes as he will find out. He needs them, but as they are the first children he's met his own age since Dudley, he is just learning. He was ready to tell them quite a bit in the troll chapter before his conversations first with Dumbledore and more importantly Snape. If you chose to continue to read, you will see what happens when those two find out what Harry has been keeping from them which will be over the next few chapters. If you choose not to read anymore, please feel free to check out the recommend fics. Thank you again for your valid criticisms.

Darcel- what happened in the other world? See Nightspear's comment above, she had the same question. Thanks for the review. And no I don't mind the link.

Von- Snape's words did isolate Harry, playing on a very real fear for the boy. But was Snape doing it in some twisted way of being kind? Hmm the age old question of the real Severus Snape. As for the Nimbus 2001, thanks for the reminder, I can picture the scene now . . . "Sirius what are you doing?" "Buying a broom." "Another one? Harry has TWO brooms!" But Moony! This is a Nimbus 2001, he needs the best broom to play Quidditch." "Ah so you ARE letting him go back to Hogwarts next year!" sputters "I-I said nothing of the sort. It's dangerous!" "Then put the broom down. Put it down! Bad Padfoot! Drop the broom!"

Lia Santana- I have my first squealing (squealing? Squeaking is much more dignified) fan girl! Ha ha ha ha haaa ha! Harry is darker at age 11. Clawtracks had some powerful effects on the boy. I'm a huge Draco and Harry fan too! I'm glad you liked them. I want their interactions to be more than just bullying, that I believe is a misuse of Draco's great character. Sirius and Remus come to teach at Hogwarts after second year.