Title: AU: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Author: Artemis Luna Diana

E-Mail: artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

Rating: PG-13 (cursing)

Pairing: none

Time: begins the night of James and Lily's deaths and continues through Harry's first year of school

Summary: Harry grows up under the watchful eyes of Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Arabella Figg.  When Harry was still little, he had a nightmare and woke up screaming.  When his guardians arrived in his bedroom, he told them that he would be coming back.  Knowing instinctively who Harry was referring too, the three resolved to train Harry to defend himself before he left for Hogwarts.  They figured that everyone would dismiss Harry's vision as a simple nightmare.  So they kept the whole matter a secret.  Now it's time for Harry's first year of Hogwarts.  He's been trained in secret to be cunning, strong, and quick-thinking.  So where does he end up: Slytherin.

Disclaimer: I own not a thing.  Due to the fact that this story covers one of the years already written, the majority of the events and some of the dialogue comes straight from the book. 

Thanks to: the folks at the HP Lexicon, I looked up info on students and dates to make sure I was correct in what I remembered, and to snapeysnapesnape for the excellent beta

Chapter Five: If man had been meant to fly, he'd have been born with wings.

Harry woke to the creeping feeling across his skin that let him know that his proximity warning charm had been activated.  He sat up abruptly, wand ready, and pulled back the curtains to find Blaise about to do the same.

"Good, you're awake," Blaise said, not realizing that Harry had been prepared to hex him if he'd been Malfoy or one of his cronies.  "We've got just enough time to shower and dress to make it to breakfast early."

"Why do we want to go early?" Harry asked smiling slightly.

Blaise grinned and didn't reply.  Harry knew what he was talking about.  It was better to be there first so you could watch those who were coming in.  Harry hopped out of bed and followed after Blaise to take a shower.

Two freshly washed and dressed Slytherin boys appeared just as the Great Hall doors opened for breakfast.  They were the first Slytherins in the hall.  They sat down side-by-side to watch those coming in.  They ate in the same manner.  It wasn't until after they were done that they began talking.

Harry had already liked his fellow Slytherin, but after they began talking, he realized that he had definitely made a good choice in his friend.  They had similar interests and opinions, along with similar personalities, which at their age meant the beginning of a beautiful friendship.  Besides, they were the only Slytherin first-year boys that didn't have Death Eater connections.

Marcus Flint came in after awhile and passed out their schedules.  The two boys began studying it, wondering if there were going to be any problems.  Their first lesson would be Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Then they'd have Transfiguration and afterward break for lunch.  After lunch they'd have Charms followed by Double Potions with the Gryffindors. 

"We see them last," Blaise sighed.  "House rivalries here we come."

Harry smiled slightly and continued studying his schedule.  That was their classes for three days of the week.  Except for the Double Potions, which became just Potions without the Gryffindors on Friday and wasn't as long.  On the other two week days, they had Herbology with the Ravenclaws, History of Magic, Magic Theory with the Hufflepuffs, and Astronomy, though not in that order.  Thankfully, they didn't have any classes with the Gryffindors on those two days.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a joke, but that didn't bother Harry too much.  It gave him a class to doze in. Transfiguration was just as easy as he thought it would be.  He realized that this came easy to him because he'd already learned so much about magic and specifically about transfiguration as well as having done a few simple transfigurations. 

Their first class was to turn a match into a needle.  Figuring it wouldn't be a good idea to be able to do it automatically, Harry waited until the class was nearly over before successfully completely the transfiguration.  Other than him only Malfoy's had changed; his had become silvery and pointy.  Professor McGonagall sent Harry a rather shocked look, followed immediately by a suspicious one, but she nodded to Malfoy.

Charms was simple for both him and Blaise.  Apparently this is what his parents had been teaching him.  Just like Arabella had when she began, Blaise knew fourth-level charms and hexes.

Harry was practically bouncing down the hall on their way to Potions.  Blaise was laughing at his enthusiasm.  He didn't see what all the fuss was about.  They knew that Professor Snape favored the Slytherins, but neither was very sure of how Snape would react to having Harry Potter in his class even if he was a Slytherin.  Harry was hoping that his skill in potions would help persuade the Potions Master to like him.  They were the first to arrive in the class, thanks to Harry, and they chose seats at the very front.  Harry continued to fidget in his seat, unable to contain his excitement. 

After awhile, the rest of the students arrived.  It wasn't too long after that, that the door to the classroom banged open and Professor Snape swept into the classroom.  He glared at the students for a bit before he began by calling roll.  He paused at Harry's name.  "Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter.  Our new – celebrity."  Draco Malfoy and his cronies sniggered, as did a few of the Gryffindors.  Harry didn't allow this to disturb him. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began.  He spoke in barely a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.  "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.  I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry noticed Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.  He bit back a smile.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly.  "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Granger's hand shot up while Harry paused to think.  "It would make the Draught of Living Death," he answered.  Granger dropped her hand.

"Amazing," Snape said dryly.  "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"It's a stone taken from the stomach of a goat.  It will save you from most poisons," Harry replied before Granger could even put her hand up.

Snape frowned slightly.  "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Granger's hand shot back up, but Harry had that answer too.  "There is no difference; they're the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

"Thirty points to Slytherin," Snape said smiling, slightly maliciously.  "It appears the Sorting Hat was correct to place you in my house."  Snape glanced around at the other students.  "Well?  Why aren't you all copying that down?"  There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.  Over the noise, Snape said, "I look forward to seeing if you can continue to impress me, Potter."

Harry flashed a grin at Blaise.  Perhaps, things would be okay after all.

***

Harry was extremely pleased with school and said so in the letter he sent home with Hedwig.  He was wondering what the reply back would say.  He had said he was in Slytherin and mentioned Blaise.  He figured that Sirius would probably immediately begin checking into the Zabini family.  He'd want to make sure his Godson wasn't consorting with a Death Eater family.  As far as Harry knew, Blaise's family hadn't fought on the side of Voldemort.  He wasn't sure if they had fought on the side of Dumbledore, though.  They might have been one of the neutral families.

He worked hard in all of his classes and was soon winning over his teachers, who had been prepared to dislike him for the simple reason he was a Slytherin, even if he was the Boy-Who-Lived.  His favorite class was Potions.  Arabella was a wonderful teacher, but she wasn't a Master.  Severus Snape was a Potions Master.  Harry would have been content to take Potions all day long.  Unfortunately, he couldn't, and he didn't think that Snape was ready to see him haunting the Potions Classroom yet.

A few days later things were only getting better.  Blaise dragged him over to the wall in the Slytherin Common Room where notices were posted.  Flying Lessons started on Thursday.

"First lesson's with the Gryffindors," Blaise said, pointing out the one flaw to the notice.  After the first lesson was done, all the first-years would be taught together.

"Yeah," Harry sighed.  He had been correct, his tenuous friendship with Ron hadn't lasted two days.  He'd overestimated Ron apparently: he'd been figuring a week.  "Oh, well.  We shouldn't let that bother us."

When it was time for the lessons, the duo trooped out to the Quidditch pitch in high spirits.  The day was clear with only a slight wind every now and then: perfect day for flying.  Harry and Blaise were some of the first students to arrive, the others of course also being Slytherin.  There were about twenty brooms lined up in the grass.  Harry sighed; they were all rather decrepit looking.  He chose one of the few somewhat decent brooms and stood by it.  Blaise, not one who particularly cared about Quidditch or flying, chose the broom next to him, even though it was in very poor shape. 

All the Slytherins had arrived by the time the first of the Gryffindors showed up.  Unfortunately, Madam Hooch, the flying teacher, arrived last so none of them lost points for being late.  Of course, the idiot Gryffindors were just standing around in groups instead of by their brooms, so Madam Hooch had to order them to the brooms.

Madam Hooch began instructing them on how to call their brooms and then ordered them to yell 'Up!' which they did.  Harry's broom instantly hit his palm with a soft smack.  His was one of the few who did so.  Blaise's broom shuddered a bit but stayed put, and Granger's rolled over.  He was delighted to see it take Malfoy three times to successfully call his broom.  The arrogant brat had been bragging on his flying abilities since the notice had been posted.  Harry hadn't said a word.  He didn't believe in excessive modesty, but he also didn't believe in bragging.  He knew he was damn good on a broom; Sirius called him a natural.  He was an excellent Quidditch player as well, his favorite position being seeker, but he was just as good handling the bludgers.  He was indifferent to the remaining positions: chaser and keeper.

Once everyone managed to summon their brooms, Madam Hooch instructed on mounting, positioning, and gripping.  He was once more thrilled to hear the woman correct Malfoy on his grip.  Hooch smiled at Harry's practiced grip.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch.  "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly.  On my whistle – three – two –"

Harry was startled slightly when one of the Gryffindor boys began rising before Hooch could even bring the whistle to her lips.  He must have pushed off hard because he was rising fast and not stopping.  Harry took one look at his scared pale face and realized that the boy had done it completely by accident and was absolutely terrified with no clue how to stop or come back down.  He glanced at Hooch who was yelling for the boy to come back down.  Harry looked back up in time to see the boy pale further and gasp.  He'd looked down.  Harry let out a soft gasp of his own as the boy slid sideways and fell.

Before he could react, the boy smashed into the ground.  He could hear the sickening crack of breaking bones upon impact.  Hooch rushed to his side and turned him over.  Harry recognized the boy as Neville Longbottom: the boy who had lost his toad on the train.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter.  "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."  She turned to the rest of the class.  "No one is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!  You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'  Come on, dear."

Longbottom hobbled off with Hooch's aid.  The two were barely out of earshot when Malfoy began laughing.  Harry barely kept from rolling his eyes. 

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" 

Malfoy's cronies: Goyle, Crabbe, Nott, Greengrass, and Parkinson joined in.  Bulstrode, Davis, Moon, Zabini, and he were silent.  His estimation of Millicent went up a notch, as did his opinions of Tracey and Olivia.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped one of the Gryffindor girls.  Patil?

"Sticking up for Longbottom?" said Parkinson.  "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass.  "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

Harry recognized a Remembrall glittering in Malfoy's hand.

"Give that to me, Malfoy!" Ron yelled.  Everyone stopped talking at the shout, turning to watch.

"I think not, Weasley," Malfoy smirked.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. 

Malfoy smiled nastily.  "Sticking up for Gryffindors, Potter?"  He smirked and threw the Rememball in the air and caught it.  "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

"Give it here!"  Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.  He hadn't been lying, he could fly well.  Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"Harry," Blaise stopped him.  Harry raised a brow.  Blaise stared at him a moment before coming to a decision.  He grinned.

Harry grinned back and started to mount his broom.

"No!" shouted Granger.  "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her.  He mounted the broom and pushed off with the ease of long practice.  His flying was sure and graceful; up he flew towards Malfoy.  He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair.  Malfoy looked stunned.  Harry knew exactly how good he was on a broom.  Malfoy had every reason to be scared.

"Give it here," he called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry charged towards him; Malfoy only just managed to get out of the way in time.  Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady.  "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall.  He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of the people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight.  He pulled up on it, bringing the broom to a halt and got off.

"HARRY POTTER!"

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived.  Professor McGonagall was running toward them.  He lifted his chin, but remained silent.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –"  Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flickered furiously, "—how dare you – might have broken your neck –"

Blaise started to come to his defense, but a look from Harry stopped him, and he remained silent.  The Gryffindors weren't going to say anything in defense of a Slytherin, and the Slytherins who weren't followers of Malfoy weren't going to speak unless he gave them some indication that he wanted them to.  And if they did, he'd be in their debt, something he didn't want.

Professor McGonagall glared at him, seemingly at her wits' end.  "Potter, follow me, now."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied solemnly.  He started to walk forwards but then remembered he still held the Rememball.  He turned and walked to Hermione Granger.  He held up the ball.  "Make sure Longbottom gets this back."

"We didn't need your help, Potter," Ron said lowly.

Harry only raised a brow.  He walked back to McGonagall who was now looking at him oddly.  He ignored Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking along in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode towards the castle.  He kept silent, wondering where she was going to take him.

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and she hadn't said a word to him.  She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting along behind her.  He realized she wasn't taking him to Dumbledore as she began walking down to the dungeons.  Which could only meant one thing.  Snape.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside the Potions classroom.  She opened the door and poked her head inside.  She straightened and walked into the room.  Harry followed her in.  She walked towards the door to Snape's office and gave a quick rap on the wood.  They waited a moment and then the door was wrenched open.  Snape stared at the two of them.  He glanced from McGonagall's angry face to Harry's impassive look.  He stepped back and allowed them to enter.

McGonagall directed him towards the chair in front of Snape's desk.  Harry sat down.  Snape sat behind his desk and stared at Harry.  He didn't take his eyes off of him as he began to speak.  "What did he do?"

McGonagall explained in clipped tones of Harry's disobedience, though she left out the matter of giving the Rememball to Granger.  Harry didn't speak and remained an emotionless mask during the telling.  Snape watched without comment. Snape finally took his eyes off of Harry to glare at McGonagall.  She took the hint and left the room.  Snape stared at him a moment longer.  He leaned forward slightly and rested his elbows on his desk.  "Why don't you tell me the whole story?" he prompted.

Harry fought back his surprise.  From the stories his guardians had told him, save Arabella of course, and the rumors running around school, he had expected Snape to drag him up to the Headmaster's office and demand his expulsion.

Harry stared at him pensively before nodding.  He explained the boy's fall, and Madam Hooch leaving the class to their own devices.  He hesitated a moment, and Snape narrowed his eyes. 

"The boy lost his Rememball when he fell and another student picked it up," Harry said, deciding not to reveal who had picked it up.  "with the intention of either keeping it or damaging it.  Some of the others weren't too pleased.  The student flew off with the Rememball, and as the boy's friends weren't going to go after the student.  I decided to do so.  Once the student realized that I was better on a broom, the student threw the Rememball and then landed.  I caught the Rememball before it could smash into the ground."

Snape watched him a moment in silent reflection.  "Yes or no.  Was the student a fellow Slytherin?"

Harry considered.  "Yes," he finally replied.

"And the boy and his friends, they were Gryffindors?"

"Yes."

Snape leaned back.  "How far off the ground were you when you caught the Rememball?  Don't exaggerate."

Harry shrugged.  "A foot or so."

Snape blinked, but quickly recovered.  "Why did you stick up for a Gryffindor?"

"I don't believe in picking on the weak or defenseless," Harry said condescendingly.

Snape sneered.  "Even Gryffindors?"

Harry raised a brow.  "Even Hufflepuffs."

Snape smirked.  "Ten points to Slytherin for standing up to a bully."  He picked up a quill and wrote two brief notes.  He folded the papers and handed the first to Harry.  "Give that to Marcus Flint.  He's in Charms at the moment."  He handed Harry the second note.  "Give this one to Professor Flitwick."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said with a slight smile.

"Go on, Potter."

"Thank you, sir."

***

Harry knocked on the door to the Charms Classroom and then entered.  He handed Professor Flitwick the note from Snape and started to walk towards Marcus Flint, when Flitwick spoke.  He'd already read the note.  "Mr. Flint.  Please step outside into the hallway with Mr. Potter a moment."

Flint got up and followed Harry out of the classroom.  Harry handed him the note.  Flint glanced over it and then looked up at Harry.  He skimmed over Harry's figure much to Harry's surprise. 

Flint gave an unconscious nod.  "Meet me out on the Quidditch pitch after dinner tonight."

Harry frowned slightly.  "Alright."

Flint walked back into the classroom.  Harry stood there a moment.  'What was that all about?'

***

Harry found out when he reached the Quidditch pitch.  Flint and Snape were waiting for him.  Harry walked to them calmly, and as he got closer he spotted a trunk that looked similar to the ones that held Quidditch balls on the ground in between them.  Then he realized that Flint was holding two brooms in one hand.  Suddenly it all fitted together.  One problem though: he was a first year.

Flint had him play a bit in every position while Snape watched.  After about two hours worth of practice, they stopped.  Flint and Snape stepped away from him to confer a bit and then returned to where he stood. 

"You're on the team: seeker," Flint said.

Harry raised a brow.  "I'm a first-year."

"I've already spoken to the Headmaster, he's agreed to bend the rule," Snape replied. 

Harry nodded and began to smile.  "Alright."

"Good," Flint said.

"Have you got a broom?" Snape asked.

"A Nimbus 2000."

Flint looked gleeful.  "Great.  Write home for it."

Snape nodded then focused on Harry.  "Don't forget to get the notes from someone about the Astronomy class you missed."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, and Snape walked off.

The two boys stood there a moment watching their teacher walk off before turning to each other.  "Grab one end," Flint instructed.  Harry leaned down to help Flint carry the box of Quidditch balls back to the broom shed.  They were each carrying a broom.

"What can you tell me about the team?" Harry asked.

"We haven't had a good seeker in three years, been making do with Terence Higgs.  Our keeper is good.  Unfortunately, he's not as good as the Gryffindor keeper, Wood, and he's a seventh-year, so we'll lose him next year.  Our beaters are Bole and Derrick.  They're good when they use their brains, but they have off-days.  Our chasers are myself, Warrington, and Montague.  The three of us are the only reason why we've managed not to come in last place.  We score so much, by the time someone catches the Snitch, we've still won the game."

"So what are our chances for the cup?"

Flint shot him a look and then smirked.  "We're going to win, no question."

***

TBC…

A/N:

On Slytherin students:

As I said in my thanks, I looked up some info on the HP Lexicon and found ???someone??? Greengrass and Tracey Davis listed as Slytherin witches of Harry's year.  Moon and Nott I knew from the HP and the Sorcerer's Stone though I wasn't sure on the houses.  The Lexicon confirmed that no one knew where they were sorted.  So since I needed students in the Slytherins, I threw them in with the lot.  We've no first names for them either so I came up with those as well.

Marcus Flint's character isn't developed at all so I decided how I wanted him to act to his fellow Slytherins and his fellow team-mates.  You see the second in this chapter and you'll see the first a bit later on.

I haven't really gone in-depth with Goyle and Crabbe yet, but since I'm discussing Slytherin students I might as well mention it here.  I personally don't think they are as stupid as everyone makes out.  After all, Slytherin is a house that prizes cunning and ambition.  If they were as slow and slug-like as everyone thinks, I don't think they'd have been sorted into Slytherin even if they were evil and liked to pick on people.  Slytherin isn't inherently evil, ya know.

~Artemis Luna Diana~