Title: Time Warp: Year One
Author: Laen
Chapter: (3) The Philosopher's Stone
Summary: Midnight battle, bumps into Fluffy... Harry makes a little slip about his feelings to Hermione. And a bit of Quidditch.
Disclaimer: All characters below belong to Joanne K. Rowling; the idea of Harry going back in time came from Back to the Future.
Author's Note: I hope you guys like this chapter... and please, REVIEW!
*****
"Potter!" Harry turned around to see Draco Malfoy glaring at him angrily, with Crabbe and Goyle by his side as body guards.
"Yes? Draco?" Harry asked as he threw Malfoy a dirty look.
"Re-match! This time, without a large audience! Trophy room, midnight. Be there Gryffindor, or you'll regret the day you messed with a Malfoy—"
"I already regret it, after all I had to see your ugly face. Causing my eyes to nearly go blind." Harry said sarcastically as Ron burst out laughing, and Hermione tried to hide her smile.
"What are you laughing at Weasel? And you—Granger—wipe that smile off your face you mudbl—" Before Draco could finish the sentence, Harry had grabbed him by the collar of his robes, and slammed him into the nearest wall angrily.
"One more word Malfoy—just one more word, and I swear, I'll land you into the hospital wing faster then you can say 'ouch'. That's a promise—and if I ever hear you call any other student by that nickname, I'll personally break your face." Harry threatened in a cold tone as Draco's face paled even more.
"Midnight. Trophy Room. Prove your case there. Now get your dirty hands off me." Draco snarled as Harry let him go immediately.
"See you there then Malfoy—and you'd better be prepared—because that duel we just had—that was nothing compared to what I can do." Harry stated as Draco sneered before turning around and walking away.
When the Slytherins had disappeared, Hermione spoke up.
"Harry, you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lost Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really selfish of you."
"And it's really none of your business." snapped Ron angrily. "Good bye."
Hermione stood standing there, and Harry sighed, not knowing what to say.
"I have to go tonight—"
"Why? Just because Malfoy told you too—"
"Because he insulted you!" Harry shouted in reply, causing Hermione to shut up.
Harry realized his slip immediately, and easily covered the tracks with the easiest comment.
"He insulted all muggle borns, and that includes my mom. I can't take this lying down. I have to do something." Harry whispered before he too, turned around, and headed towards the common rooms.
That night, at half-past eleven, Ron snuck up and placed their dressing-gowns on—Harry, who was wearing a pair of dark blue pants, a blue t-shirt and a blue jacket, didn't bother to change—before picking up their wands, and tiptoeing down to the common room.
They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."
Harry sighed as a lamp flickered on, revealing the speaker to them. It was Hermione granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown.
"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"
"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped. "Percy—he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."
Harry couldn't believe it; no matter how hard he tried history seemed to just follow the same path.
"Come on," he said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.
Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.
"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells—"
"You weren't the only one who knew the answers! Harry knew too!" Ron cut in.
"But—"
"Go away."
"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so—"
Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.
"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.
"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go; we're going to be late."
They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.
"I'm going with you," she said.
"You are not"
"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up."
"You've got some nerve—" said Ron loudly.
"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something"
It was a sort of snuffling.
"Mrs Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.
It wasn't Mrs Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.
"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours. I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."
"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig Snout' but it won't help you now; the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."
"How's your arm?" asked Harry.
"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."
"Good—well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later—"
"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone; the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."
Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.
"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learnt that Curse of the Bogie Quirrell told us about and used it on you."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry gave her a stern look that told her to shut up. The eleven year old first year closed her mouth, and didn't speak again for the rest of the trip.
After a few minutes, the four Gryffindors found themselves inside the Trophy room waiting for the Slytherins. The waited for quite a while, and when Harry noticed Hermione was shivering from the cold, he took his blue, warm jacket off and placed it upon her.
She was quite surprised at first when she realized she was suddenly feeling a bit warmer, but a simple smile from Harry told her what he had done.
"Thanks." She mouthed to him as he merely smiled back at her.
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.
Then a noice in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak—and it wasn't Malfoy.
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."
It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.
"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."
"This way." Harry mouthed to the other and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run—he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour.
The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.
"RUN!" Harry cried and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following—they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, knowing exactly where he was leading them, but continued to anyways. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent down, wheezing and spluttering.
"I—told—you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. "I—told—you."
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."
"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realise that, don't you?—"
"I knew all along." Harry whispered to her, and Hermione stopped talking.
"Let's go." Harry muttered as he began walking.
But the trip back to Gryffindor wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.
It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.
"Shut up, Peeves—please—you'll get us thrown out."
Peeves cackled.
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."
"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."
"Get out—"
Harry held Ron back quickly, and looked up at Peeves.
"I thought you hated Filch. If you told him we were out, you'd be helping him." Harry said as Peeves frowned.
"How about this, we run into that classroom up there—" Harry said as he pointed towards the entrance to the Philosopher's stone.
"Perfect!" Peeves grinned evilly, and Harry nodded his head.
"Okay then, shout anytime you want, we're gonna start running though." Harry said as he began heading for the door.
He was merely a few feet from the door when he heard Peeve's yelling.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUPIDS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
"The door's locked! We're done for! This is the end!" Ron moaned as they pushed helplessly at the door.
They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves' shouts.
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock and whispered, "Alohomora!" at the exact same time Harry did.
The lock clicked and the door swung open—they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening, not bothering to look at the contents.
"Where way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."
"Say 'please'."
"Don't mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go?"
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice.
"All right—please."
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha!" Haaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.
"He thinks this door is lock," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be OK—get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's t-shirt for the last minute. "What?"
Harry turned around, and suddenly remembered his situation. In front of him, Fluffy, the three headed dog sat staring at them with saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.
He reached for the doorknob and opened it, causing the four students to fall backwards. Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, back down the corridor.
And they didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.
"Never mind that—pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common-room and collapsed, trembling into armchairs.
It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed looked like he'd never speak again.
"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."
Hermione had got both her breath, and her bad temper back again.
"You don't have eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."
"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trap door. It's obviously guarding something."
She stood up, glaring at them.
"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed—or worse, expelled. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
Ron stared at her, his mouth open.
"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"
But Harry was no longer listening to him, he was watching Hermione walk away, and as she did, Harry noticed a warm feeling within him. So, this is what love truly is.
*****
Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection—although Harry already knew.
"It's either really valuable or really dangerous." Said Ron.
"Or both," said Harry.
Their conversation continued that way as the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry just smiled, knowing that it was his Nimbus 2000. When the parcel was dropped upon him, everyone looked at him in surprise. A letter was also there, although Harry knew what it was, he ripped it open and read it anyways.
Harry barely looked through it before crumbling it into a ball, and stuffing it into his robes.
"Come on." Harry said to Ron as he got up to leave the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first lesson, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy attempted to seize the package from Harry with a lot of difficulty, but in the end failed.
"That's a broomstick," he said as he gave Harry a look of jealousy and spite. "You'll be for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allow them."
"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."
"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."
Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.
"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances , Potter. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry as he smiled at Malfoy. "And it's really thanks to Draco here that I've got it. Thanks a lot."
Harry and Ron headed upstairs smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.
"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."
"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.
"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.
"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."
Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.
For the rest of the day, Harry had trouble keeping his mind on his lessons. When the last period of the day was over, he and Ron bolted up the stairs without even making a trip to the Great Hall to get their dinner.
"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled on to Harry's bedspread.
'I missed flying with this broom.' Harry thought to himself as he picked it up.
"Let's go try it out now!" Ron said as Harry nodded.
"Hang on—I asked Neville if I could borrow his Remembrall, don't ask me why, you'll see when we get to the Quidditch field." Harry said as he walked over to Neville's bed stand and picked the Remembrall up.
Harry and Ron ran the whole way to the Quidditch Pitch, and Harry barely had time to apologize to Hermione as he and Ron smashed into her on their way. When they arrived there, all Harry could do was smile.
He hadn't placed any quidditch since Umbridge had placed that lifelong ban on him, and he was quite eager to fly. Before Ron could say anything, Harry had already kicked off the ground, and was zooming around the field.
When he was around fifty feet above the ground, Harry reached into his robes, and pulled the Remembrall out, before throwing it towards the sky. He watched as the small ball slowly fell, and waited a few seconds before speeding after it. He had caught it around five feet from the ground, but pulled out of the dive easily.
For the next hour or so, Harry and Ron both flew around the broom, enjoying themselves. They didn't even notice when Wood appeared to watch Harry's diving.
"Hey, Potter, come down!" Wood had finally decided to cut in on Harry's 'warm-up'.
Harry dove towards the ground, and pulled up just before he crashed, and jumped off his broom to run towards the Gryffindor team captain.
"I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural." Wood said with a grin.
"It's in my blood, I know everything I should know about Quidditch. All the rules, all the moves. Everything. I just haven't flew for a while, otherwise I'd be doing a bit better." Harry said as Wood frowned at him.
"How do you—"
"Books." Harry lied as Wood nodded his head.
"But—"
"My dad taught me when I was only a baby—I still remember." Harry lied as Wood nodded again.
"Well… since you know so much about Quidditch, we might as well begin—"
"Wood, do you think we can use an actual snitch? I'm sure I can catch it." Harry said as wood frowned.
"But it's getting dark and—"
"Lumos Activito!" Harry shouted as he swished his wand towards the stadium.
Suddenly, bright light appeared from all around them, and every part of the stadium was visible.
"Well, guess you solved that problem—"
"Is it possible?" Harry asked as Wood nodded.
"Should I let one of the Bludgers out? Or do you not—"
"Sure, let both of them out." Harry said as Wood frowned.
"Potter—you'd better not be kidding around with me—"
"I'm not Oliver. I'm not." Harry cut in as Oliver Wood nodded.
"Fine. Get up there. I'll release both the bludgers and the snitch, after three minutes you can attempt to find it, I'll time you." Wood said as he opened the trunk that he had with him, and let the two black bludgers fly off.
"Get up there." He commanded as he let the snitch out.
Harry zoomed up towards the air, and dodged the bludgers that came flying at him, after three minutes, Wood signalled him, and Harry began to search for the snitch.
He saw it within the next minute, and zoomed off towards it quickly, within seconds, he had the snitch in his hands, Ron cheering like crazy, and Wood staring at him in awe.
"Let the snitch go Potter, I think that was just a fluke. Get down here and talk to Weasley for a while before you start searching again." Wood said as Harry flew down to Ron.
*****
Perhaps it was because he was so busy now, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realised that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months.
His homework, was still as easy as ever, since he had already learned everything. Percy had begun following him around, and Harry had to watch out for him, to make sure that he wouldn't do anything stupid.
On Hallowe'en morning they woke up to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something that they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom all around the classroom.
Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan, and Ron was with Hermione. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived, and personally, Harry was going through hell because of the cold shoulder.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practising!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."
The spell was quite simple for Harry, for he got it on his first try easily. Professor Flitwick hadn't noticed, but Harry didn't really care. Seamus was having a hard time, and Harry helped him patiently, and didn't even freak out when Seamus set fire to his feather.
Ron, on the other hand, was having a very hard time.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.
"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."
"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping." Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"
"That's nothing, if you look up the at the ceiling, you'd see that Harry's feather's been there for a while." Seamus said as everyone's head looked up. Indeed, Harry's feather was up there.
"Oops, didn't notice that. Sorry professor." Harry said as he slowly brought the feather down to the height of Hermione's feather.
"Ten points to Gryffindor, for Mr Potter and Miss Granger."
Ron was in a very bad temper by the end of the class.
"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly—"
"No she's not Ron!" Harry snapped, but he felt someone knock into him as they hurried past him. It was Hermione.
"Damn it—she heard you!" Harry said angrily as Ron frowned.
"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends."
"Then what am I Ron? A dummy?" Harry asked as he shook his head and sighed.
Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great hall for the Hallowe'en feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' toilets and wanted to be left alone.
Ron looked pretty awkward, and the angry expression on Harry's face didn't help at all. But the moment they had entered the Great Hall, the Hallowe'en decorations caused Hermione to disappear from his mind.
A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceilings while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkin stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start of term banquet.
Harry was in no mood to eat, and waited impatiently for the explosions Professor Quirrell was about to cause. And he was right, a few seconds later, the defence against the dark arts teacher came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped again the table and gasped, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know."
He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.
There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.
"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Percy was in his element.
"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"
"Hermione!" Harry said as he grabbed Ron's arm.
"What about her?" Ron asked as Harry began to pull him in the other direction.
"She doesn't know about the troll."
Ron bit his lip.
"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."
Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor and hurried off towards the girls' toilets. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.
"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin.
Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He cross the corridor and disappeared from view.
"Can you smell something?" Harry asked as he heard a low grunting and the shuffling footfall of gigantic feet. Ron point: at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving towards them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.
The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.
"The key's in the lock," Ron muttered. "We could lock it in."
"Bad idea, that's the girl's bathroom!" Harry said as he ran forward, ignoring Ron's shouts. A high, petrified scream was heard just as Harry ran into the room.
Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.
"Damn!" Harry shouted as he ran forward and slid through the troll's legs, stopped right in front of Hermione, and got up to stand in front of her.
"Impedimental!" Harry yelled as he pulled his wand out and pointed it at the troll.
It did no use.
"Bull!" Harry said angrily.
"Accio sink!" Harry shouted as he pointed at a nearby broken sink, which came flying towards him, Harry moved his wand at the last second, causing the sink to smash into the troll's head.
"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ron instead, giving Harry time to throw a few more spells at it.
"Stupefy! Furnunculus! Densaugeo! Diffindo! Reducto!" Harry listed off, remembering the spell he had used against Malfoy during their duel.
A few of the spells shot off towards the troll's eyes, and temporarily blinded him, causing the troll to scream and groan in pain. It began to swing its bat around, trying to hurt its attacker.
"Look out Hermione!" Harry shouted as he grabbed the eleven year old and pulled her away from danger.
"Ron—do something!" Harry yelled as he realized he and Hermione were both cornered.
There wasn't anything Harry could do anymore, and he realized that Ron was the one who was supposed to finish the troll off.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron shouted as the club flew suddenly out of the troll's head, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over—and dropped, with a sickening crack, on to its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.
"Is it—dead?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think it's just knocked out—Hermione are you alright?"
Harry's attention was now completely on Hermione Granger, as if his life depended on the fact that she was perfectly fine.
"I think." Hermione replied as Harry gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"Thank God." Harry whispered as he heard a suddenly slamming and loud footsteps approach them.
Harry separated himself from Hermione, and took a few steps towards the door, waiting for the teacher to arrive.
A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape; with Quirrell bring up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his head.
Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her so angry. Her lips were white.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.
Then a small voice came out of the shadows.
"Please, Professor McGonagall—they were looking for me."
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.
"I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could deal with it on my own—you know, because I've read all about them."
Ron dropped his wand in shock. Hermione was telling a lie to a teacher?
"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry used a few spells to blind to temporarily, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."
Ron was trying hard to looked as though this story wasn't new to them, but Harry's expression was unreadable.
"Well—in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"
Hermione hung her head in false disgrace.
"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses."
Hermione nodded, before leaving; and Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.
"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."
They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.
"We should have got more than ten points," Ron grumbled.
"Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."
"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."
"She might not have needed saving if you hadn't insulted her in the first place." Harry reminded him.
They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Pig snout," they said and entered.
The common-room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks", and hurried off to get plates.
But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.
*****
As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves and enormous beaver skin boots.
The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.
Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing seeker leaked out somehow, and Harry always groaned when people approached him, no matter what they had said.
Harry had spent the last few weeks doing most of his homework with Ron and Hermione. Hermione obviously had everything done ahead of time—practically like him, and they would always compare homework to see whose was better. Ron on the other hand, never did his homework until the last minute, and always waited until Harry and Hermione bullied him into it.
The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire which could be carried around in a jam jar they were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed.
Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.
"What's that you've got there, Potter?" he asked as Harry showed him a book.
"Quidditch through the Ages. By the way Professor, I've been meaning to ask you about something. Flamel's rock—you know?" Harry asked as Snape's expression darkened.
"How did you know about that?" he asked.
"I can see into the future." Harry said with a grin as Snape frowned.
"I'll see you around Potter." Snape muttered before he turned to leave.
"What was that about?" Ron asked after the Potions master left.
"Nothing. Let's just say I saw something in the future—and it's not pretty." Harry said darkly with a sigh.
"Harry—are you a seer?" Hermione asked as Harry looked over at her beautiful face.
"No... At least... I don't think so." Harry smiled slightly before he sighed, and went back to reading Quidditch through the Ages.
*****
The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.
"You've got to eat some breakfast."
"I don't want anything."
"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.
"Fine." Harry said as he stuff a piece of bread into his mouth.
"Oh, so you listen to her and not me eh?" Ron asked as Harry ignored him and chew away at the piece of toast.
At eleven o'clock, the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Before Hermione had a chance to join Neville and Ron, Harry pulled her aside to talk to her.
"'Mione, no matter what happens out there today on the field—don't attack Snape. Don't approach him, don't do anything. Just understand that I'll be able to handle it." Harry said as Hermione frowned at him.
"Why? And when did you start calling me by this new nickname 'Mione?" Hermione asked as Harry rolled his eyes.
"Who's supposed to be asking the questions? Just promise me you won't do anything." Harry said as Hermione sighed and nodded her head, before running off.
Harry headed towards the changing rooms, and changed into his scarlet Quidditch robes; before waiting for Wood's speech.
"OK, men," he said.
"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.
"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."
"The big one," said Fred Weasley.
"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.
"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry. "We were on the team last year."
"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."
He glared at them as if to say, "Or else."
"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."
Harry followed Fred and George out of the changing room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way from excitement, walked on to the pitch to loud cheers.
Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the pitch waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said as Harry reached into his robe pocket to make sure his wand was still there.
Good. It was.
"Mount your brooms, please."
Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
"And she's really belting along up there, a near pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve—back to Johnson and—no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes—Flint flying like an eagle up there—he's going to sc—no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle—there's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and—OUCH—that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger—Quaffle taken by Slytherin—that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goal post, but he's blocked by a second Bludger—sent his way by Red or George Weasley, can't tell which—nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyways, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead an off she goes—she's really flying—dodges a speeding Bludger—the goal posts are ahead—come on, now, Angelina—Keeper Bletchley dives—misses—GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.
"Budge up there, move along."
"Hagrid!"
Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.
"Bin watchin from me hut," said Hagrid, putting a large pair of binoculars round his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"
"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."
"Keep outta trouble, though, that's something," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skywards at the speck that was Harry.
Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the snitch.
"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."
When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannon ball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.
"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the bludger furiously towards Marcus Flint.
"Slytherins in possession," Lee Jordan was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasley and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the—wait a moment—was that the Snitch?"
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downwards after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it too. Neck and neck they hurtled towards the Snitch—all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to watch.
Harry was faster than Higgs—he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead—he put on an extra spurt of speed—
WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below—Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose and Harry's broom span off course, Harry holding on for dear life.
"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.
Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.
Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"
"This isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him. "You can't send people off in Quidditch—wand what's a red card?"
But Hagrid was on Dean's side.
"They oughta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."
Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.
"So—after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"
"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"
"Jordan, I'm warning you—"
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindors still in possession."
It was as Harry dodged another Bludger which went spinning dangerously past his head that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.
It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back towards the Gryffindor goal posts; he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time out—and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zig-zagging through the air and every now and then making violent swishing movements which almost unseated him.
Lee was still commentating.
"Anyways—Slytherin in possession—Flint with the Quaffle—passes to Spinnet—passes Bell—hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it breaks his nose—only joking, Professor—Slytherin score—oh no..."
The Slytherins were now cheering, no one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.
"Dunno what Harry think he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared though his binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."
Suddenly, people were point up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.
"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.
"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic—no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."
At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.
"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced.
"I knew it," Hermione gasped. "Snape—look."
Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.
"He's doing something—jinxing the broom," said Hermione.
"What should we do?"
"Nothing! Harry made me promise I wouldn't do anything. He knew this was going to happen!" Hermione said as tears began to form in her eyes.
"What if he dies?" Hermione whispered, and not even seconds after she had said those words, Harry fell from his broom.
Screaming could be heard from the crowds, and Hermione gasped, Harry was over a hundred feet up in the air—a fall like that could kill him. But then—suddenly—something happened.
Hermione grabbed Hagrid's binoculars and watched as Harry pulled his wand out, and summoned his broomstick to him. He had quickly taken control over it around twenty feet above the ground, and pulled himself out of a dangerous fall as cheering could be heard from the crowd.
Then something weird happened—Harry clapped his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick—he sped towards the ground and landed on all fours—coughing like crazy—and something gold fell into his hand.
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.
"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it!" Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference—Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result—Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione.
"It was Snape," Ron was explaining. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing you broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stand. "Why would Snape do something like that?"
'Exactly—and he wasn't muttering a curse—he was muttering a counter curse.' Harry thought as he looked over at Hermione, who was sitting next to him. She still had some tears in her eyes and Harry felt his heart tug at him.
"Come on Hermione—I'm okay. I'm not dead!" Harry said, but this only caused Hermione to cry harder.
"For Merlin's sake Hermione, calm down." Harry muttered as he placed his arm around Hermione and gave her a hug.
"It's ok. Stop crying will you? You'll going to look like an idiot with puffy eyes." Harry joked as Hermione stopped crying and frowned at him.
'A beautiful idiot.' Harry thought to himself as he patted her on the head.
"There we go, finally." Harry said as Ron laughed and Hermione blushed with embarrassment.
"You think it has anything to do with that three headed dog Harry?" Ron asked suddenly.
"What do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked as he dropped the teapot.
"Fluffy?"
"Yeah—he's mind—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year—I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"
"Yes?" Hermione and Ron both said eagerly.
"Now, don't ask me any more," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."
"But Hagrid, Snape's trying to steal it."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid again.
"Exactly," Harry cut in, "if you're going to accuse anyone, accuse Quirrell—"
"Don't accuse either of them! Quirrell and Snape are both Hogwarts teachers, they'd do nothin' of the sort."
"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione as she burst into tears again.
"Oh not again." Harry groaned as he placed his arm around her, and placed her head onto his shoulder.
"Stop crying will you? I know for a fact it's not Snape—don't ask me how I know—I just do!" Harry said as he gave Hermione a look.
"But I know a jinx when I see one, Harry, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blink at all, I saw him!"
"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong! Yer shoul' all listen to Harry here." Said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh—yer meddlin' in things that don' conern yeh—"
"It concerns me when Voldemort's the one who's out to get me again." Harry muttered under his breathe, but only Hermione heard.
"—You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel—"
"Aha!" said Ron. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"
Hagrid looked furious with himself, and kicked them all out of his hut before he told them anything else he would regret.
Harry mere smiled at his reactions, but didn't really care. He already knew the situation. Inside and out. And personally, he didn't care.
*****
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly again.
No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common-room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worse of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.
Harry had invited the Weasley twins and Ron to number four Privet Drive, after sending Hedwig to Dudley with a letter asking before doing so. The Dursley had accepted, although they were in a way scared. Dudley was absolutely okay with it, and he missed his cousin quite a lot.
The three Weasleys were happy to accept the invitation, after sending a letter to their parents to inform them where they were going. Harry had no idea where the Weasleys were going to stay, but he was sure it was going to be his room.
The eleven year old Harry Potter longed to get into another 'fight' with his cousin Dudley, it seemed like he had weakened over the first few months of school, and needed to begin practicing his karate moves in Hogwarts again.
A few days before Christmas, Harry had made a trip to Professor Dumbledore, with a simple question...
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said as he knocked on the door slowly.
"Come in." the headmaster's voice said as Harry opened the door, and stepped inside the office.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, of what pleasure do I owe due to your visit?" Dumbledore asked as he signaled Harry to sit down.
"Well Professor—you know how the Weasleys are staying at my house—well, I was just wondering, are we allowed to use magic during the winter holidays at home?" Harry questioned.
"Why do you ask that?"
"Well, I'll have to expand my room and summon some more beds for the Weasleys and—"
"Harry that is very advanced magic— you're not supposed to learn that until you're in your fifth or sixth year. How would you be able to do that?" Dumbledore cut in as Harry paused.
"Um... I..."
"And there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about—even Mr. Percy Weasley approached me about the situation. Some of the spells you used during that duel with Mr. Malfoy a few weeks back—how did you know about them?" the headmaster questioned as Harry gulped.
He knew he shouldn't have used such advanced magic. Now he seemed suspicious.
"I um... I..."
"And according to Oliver Wood, you knew all the rules of Quidditch already. Something about you remembering the lessons you father taught you when you were young? Harry, I know you're lying. James never taught you how to fly at such a young age. Lily wouldn't allow it." Dumbledore said as Harry frowned.
"I—I don't know how to explain this... you'll probably kick me out of Hogwarts if I tell you. Or give me this major lecture about time travel and—"
"Time travel?" Dumbledore cut in as Harry mentally yelled at himself for letting that slip.
"Well... you see... I'm not exactly from this time." Harry began, and he suddenly noticed that Dumbledore looked like he had just aged ten years older.
"Continue." The headmaster whispered as Harry sighed.
"Well—I'm supposed to be going into my sixth year—but... death eaters attacked on my birthday and—"
"Death Eater?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well... yes... you see... Voldemort comes back in my fourth ye—"
"Harry, you must keep this information to yourself." Dumbledore stated in a seriously whisper.
"I know—right now, other then me, only you know." Harry muttered.
"Harry, I must know—in your time. Did you go back to the Dursleys for Christmas? Or Easter Break? At all?" Dumbledore asked as Harry shook his head.
"We must keep it that way. We can't change anything. It can cause the future to change immensely." Dumbledore noted as Harry sighed.
"But—Dudley and I are friends now—I know, I shouldn't have done that—but—there are some things that I know I have to change. I won't let Voldemort come back to power until he's supposed to—but in the meantime, can't I make sure that my life outside of Hogwarts isn't crazy?" Harry asked.
"Is that why you were so prepared? During that Quidditch match? When you were knocked off your broom?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes. I know who was trying to kill me. I won't tell you who, but it wasn't Snape. I know that for sure. It's someone else—someone who's working for Voldemort—I know about the Philosopher's Stone, Professor Dumbledore." Harry said as the headmaster closed his eyes and frowned.
"Harry, you must understand that even the slightest thing can cause everything to go wrong." The old wizards whispered gravely.
"But—"
"No buts, you and the Weasleys will stay here this winter. I will write an owl to your aunt and uncle to tell them that you're getting some extra help in... potions class this holiday and—"
"Of all the courses, why potions? Can't it be transfiguration?" Harry asked in shock.
"Don't worry, I do not plan on making you work this winter Harry. You will be able to enjoy your winter as you please. But you must understand, it is merely an excuse." Dumbledore explained.
"I understand."
"Good, now, if I'm not mistaken, Hagrid is currently lecturing Ron and Hermione about keeping their nose out of the Philosopher's Stone business. You should probably get down to the library to help them." Dumbledore said as Harry nodded slightly.
"I'll see you around Professor." Harry mumbled, before he turned around, and walked out of the office.
*****
A/N: Hope you liked this chapter... replies to your comments are below, and please review! Thanks!
*****
swordmaster mage-I presume this chapter answered all of your questions.
Draken Smythe-It's all out of the book, I'm practically re-typing it, adding in a few things, and taking out a few things.
Jade-Psh, like he can do anything unless he had proof. Now that Dumbledore knows the situation, Harry will most likely be able to get away with any minor slip ups.
Pablo5280-Don't worry, I plan on doing so
Acorn on the cob-What can I say? He noticed it alright...
TatraMegami-I've been thinking about that lately... so far, the only people who will find out about this will be Harry and Dumbledore... in the first year anyways... I'm thinking of letting Hermione find out during the third year—oh yea, the third year... it'll be completely DIFFERENT! A little hint... Harry won't go on the Knight Bus... he'll spend the rest of his summer with his god-father... anyways... back to Percy being a main character—I would make him a main character—but if he knew that Harry was reliving the first five years of his life at Hogwarts, he would probably make sure that Harry didn't participate in the twi-wizard cup, since he already knew everything...
gallandro-83-Harsh, but true words. I will be changing things around. Heck, I've even taken your advice and got Harry to tell Dumbledore.
Franky-that scares me you know that? But thx for the review ^^ Don't worry, I will be continuing. I don't update daily, if I did, I'd be spending more time writing then I would be in school. It takes around 6 hours to write one chapter, not to mention going back and editing. I thank you for the compliment about having talent, but trust me, most of it came from reading tons of fanfic work from genius like MoonWolf, and Rubuski... I forgot how to spell the guy's pen name… T.T anyways... if I hadn't read half their work, I doubt I would've been able to pick up the 'talent'.
Also, Thanks to: Zhan Black, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, kokaina, NeoSeeker, lost angel92, TopQuark, Lady Phoenix Slytherin, Spiffycool, Nightwing 509, Nicoletta
P.S. REVIEW!!