A.N. Howdy all. Alrightythen, I'm glad you liked my last chapter! As for HPDM-AV, I took it down ON PURPOSE, because I really wasn't interested in writing it anymore. Don't worry, I haven't completely deleted it. Anyway, on the 16th of July I will be leaving on a trip to Hawaii, and won't be back until the 5th of August. So don't expect any updates. Besides, most of you have grown accustomed to waiting for me to update. *grins * Please Review!

Mal

*** Flashback ****

Remus Lupin sat at his desk, flicking through a few notes he had written down for his incoming class of first years. He brushed back his graying hair, staring intently at his notes on common defensive jinxes, when-

"Lupin!" There was a sharp bark from somewhere in the room. Remus jumped, papers flying everywhere, and looked around wildly for the owner of the voice. A minute later he spotted Severus Snape's head sitting in the middle of the fire.

"Jumpy, aren't we Lupin?" Snape said, smirking up at the werewolf. "We're wanted for a faculty meeting. Something about the incoming brats this year."

"They're called 'students' Severus," Lupin said, smirking back. Snape rolled his eyes and his face disappeared from the flames.

Minutes later all of the professors were situated in the staff room, sitting in the miss-matched chairs and chatting lightly about the new students.

"I just hope those Weasley twins don't misbehave as much this year…. Honestly, last year was only their second year and they nearly destroyed the Astronomy tower."

"Yes, well they caused enough mayhem in my class. Honestly, how do you explain to a parent that their student grew horns on their behinds and are no longer able to sit down…"

The room suddenly became silent as Albus Dumbledore swept in, wearing robes of deep purple. The professors looked expectantly up at Dumbledore, who just sat down and smiled merrily at the group, his eyes twinkling.

"Well Albus, what have you called us here for?" Professor McGonnogal finally asked.

Still smiling, Dumbledore said, "Why just to see all of your smiling faces. Did you have fun over vacation Minerva?"

Professor McGonnogal snorted at stared at the table.

"Headmaster, what is the real reason that you have called us here?" Snape asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Dumbledore grew serious and sat down in one of the chairs. "The reason that I have asked you all here is because we have a very important student will be coming to this school. I, however, do not want you to treat him as such. You will treat him as any other of your students. You must teach him discipline. You must teach him control. You must teach him everything he must learn for the trials ahead of him. But you must treat him as any other student."

"And who would this student be?" Snape drawled, looking quite bored.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Son of Frank and Alice?" Professor McGonnogal exclaimed. "The poor dears… but… why is Neville Longbottom so special?"

"Neville might be the only person who could defeat Lord Voldemort… permanently."

***** End Flashback *****

It was June, about two weeks before school was let out, and Remus Lupin was staring down at the boy that Albus Dumbledore had spoken about at the meeting before the beginning of the school year. That 11 year-old Gryffindor was now caught in one of the trick staircases, begging several passing students to help him out.

"Hannah? Can you help me for an-ow! Please don't step on my hand! Could someone please help- ow!" Neville exclaimed as his leg sunk even deeper into the step. Coming up behind Neville Remus grabbed Neville under the arms and hoisted him out of the step.

Neville squealed as he was unexpectedly lifted from the step, and nearly toppled over as he was set down on the lower step.

"Are you alright Neville," Remus asked when Neville had turned around.

"Yes," Neville squeaked. "Yes, quite… thank you Professor Lupin."

"Don't worry about it," Remus said, smiling. "Just remember to be more careful."

Neville gave a small laugh. "I'll try Professor."

"Well, best get to class," Lupin said. "Only have a few minutes."

"Yes sir." Neville started up the stairs again, and promptly stepped back into the trick staircase.

Giving a small sigh, Remus pulled Neville out again and sent him on his way, vaguely wondering if he should follow the young Gryffindor in case he came across any other dangerous staircases.

Remus thought back to that past staff meeting, and wondered whether or not there had been some mistake. Neville Longbottom tried hard; you could give him that. Perhaps it was growing up around his formidable grandmother, or perhaps it was because he was just naturally clumsy, but the boy left destruction nearly where ever he went. He was almost as bad as the Weasley twins, although he didn't cause devastation on purpose. Possibly the only way that Neville Longbottom could defeat Voldemort, if he were to rise again, would be to try and curse him, miss and hit a chandelier and crush the Dark Lord when the chandelier came crashing down. Oddly enough, Neville had almost caused this to happen during one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.

Severus could often be heard muttering about 'that incompetent waste of space' after his Gryffindor and Slytherin first year classes, and it was common knowledge that a cauldron almost always exploded when Neville got near it. This boy, defeat You-Know-Who? Dumbledore must believe in miracles…

~*~

Harry was sitting in one of the cold metal chairs, alongside several other young witches and wizards. Unfortunately for him he was the youngest of them all, at only 11 years old. All of the other witches and wizards were 15 or 16. Harry looked as old as all of the others, after taking an Aging Potion just for this occasion. He had also dyed his hair, gotten contacts, and Cam covered up Harry's scar with some of her mother's make-up (much to Harry's disgust). The reason for all of this was so Harry could take his Ordinary Wizarding Level exams.

That's what Harry was waiting for. He was waiting for his "name" to be called. Of course he was under an alias, as he couldn't very well walk in and say, "Hello, I'm Harry Potter, the boy who's been missing for a decade, and I've decided to take my O.W.L's." They would never let him do that! Also, he was far too young. Eleven year-olds were never allowed to take O.W.L's, even if they had been studying magic since they were five. Even Sirius was amazed that Harry had gotten this far in his magical studies. And for that very reason was why he had risked his own freedom in getting Harry to the Ministry of Magic, so he could take his O.W.L's. The two of them were staying in a Muggle hotel at the time, while the testing commenced, both of them prepared to leave as soon as the exams were over. They had given Carrison's address as a place to send the O.W.L. results.

Harry gulped and looked around at all of the other students who were waiting for their names to be called. They were in the middle of the Practical tests, and now all of the students were waiting for the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. All of them were nervous. This was the only real time that Harry had been around other student witches and wizards, besides Cam. Most of the students were either re-taking their exams, because they were ill or they were home-schooled and unable to take the exams like the students at the normal wizarding schools. The other students were hastily going over flash cards, and flipping through books in an attempt to get in any last studying. Harry wondered briefly why he hadn't thought to bring any reading material, when-

"Hoffmon, Raffi," An elderly witch called, from the now ajar door. Harry's ears pricked, and he remembered that that was his "name."

"Coming!" Harry said hoarsely, jumping to his feet and taking out his wand.

~*~

"It wasn't so hard to sneak into this blasted school," thought the young man who was now walking, invisible, down the hallway. It was late in the afternoon; most of the students were on break between classes, and spending their time lounging around outside.

*Quirrell, we must get into position*

The young man winced at the sound of that voice, his master's voice, rolling around in his head. Of course, it wasn't much better when his master spoke. He would unconsciously shiver whenever he heard that voice.

"Yes Master," Quirrell thought, readjusting the hood of the invisibility cloak that covered both him and his turban, which covered his master. He strode down the deserted hallways, faster than ever, until he reached the third floor corridor…

* This is it Quirrell…* his Master's voice hissed. *This is what we've all been waiting for. What I've been waiting for… Now we have all that we need in order to get to the Sorcerer's Stone… except for a few select clues… but we have enough to get far… but we have all the time we need. Dumbledore is at the Ministry now… far, far away from us… *

Suddenly a girl came shooting around the corner of the hallway, and ran straight into Quirrell. Quirrell fell back, his hood falling off, leaving a disembodied head floating in the middle of the hallway.

"Who are you!" The girl shrieked down at him, while Quirrell struggled to get up. The girl started fumbling around for her wand. "I warn you, I'm Head Girl! I'll-"

There was a flash, and the girl fell to the ground, Stunned.

"Shall I modify her memory, Master?" Quirrell thought.

* No… bring her with us… she might prove to be useful. *

~*~

"I think I did really, really good on the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam," Harry said excitedly to Sirius. "At least an Exceeds Expectations."

"That's wonderful Harry," Sirius said, grinning over at his godson as they walked down the sidewalk. Sirius had just met Harry outside of the Ministry, and they were making their way back to the hotel where they were staying. "How many more exams do you have left?"

"Just my practical exams in Charms, Potions, and Ancient Runes," Harry recited. Sirius was surprised that Harry had actually taken up the Ancient Runes course. Originally it had just been a hobby…

"Did you walk Wilbur today?" Harry asked, abruptly changing the subject.
"Yes, don't worry, your pig isn't at home about to explode. But I am never walking him again. I got so many odd looks… and we've been trying not to attract attention."

"I'm sure that after 10 years of looking for you and not finding anything, the Ministry has better things to do."

~*~

"Enervate."

Morgan McClain, 7th year Hufflepuff and Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry blearily opened her eyes. She was lying on the cold floor of a large chamber that she had never seen before. Morgan thought back, trying to remember how she had gotten there… She had been running down the hall, late for a meeting with her boyfriend when… that head…

Morgan tried to stand up, but found that she was tied up, painfully tight. She rolled a bit, trying to see some way out.

There was a mirror in the center of the chamber. There was something written at the top. Morgan squinted to read it: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Then she saw the man, who had only once appeared as a head to her. He had a large, purple turban wrapped around his head, and he was leaning very close to the mirror, his nose almost touching the glass.

"I see myself… I have the stone…" The man was muttering. "But how do I get it!?"

The man was clearly mad. Morgan watched in horror, as a voice answered back, although there was no one in the room but the two of them.

"The girl…"

The next thing Morgan knew, she was untied and being hurriedly pulled from the ground and thrust before the mirror.

"What do you see?" The man spat, his arm painfully tight on her arm.

"Please-you're hurting me-"

"Shut up and tell me what you see!"

Morgan gave a whimper and looked into the mirror. She saw herself, her hair mussed and a terrified look on her face. Then, she saw her reflection smile, and reach into its pocket. It extracted a blood-red stone, and then promptly put it back in its pocket. At that instant Morgan felt something heavy fall into her own pocket. She gave a little squeal, and grabbed her side, trying to feel what it was. She pulled out the rock, and held it before her. It was instantly snatched away by the turbaned man.

The man smiled down at her, a cruel, mirthless smile. "Thank you. My Master will be pleased."

~*~

Severus Snape strode down the hallway, glaring menacingly at any student he recognized as a non-Slytherin, as well as a few of the incompetent Slytherins as well.

"Severus!" Came a voice from behind him. Severus turned sharply to see Professor Sprout jogging to catch up with him.

"Severus," She panted. "Have you, by any chance, seen Morgan McClain?"

Severus vaguely remembered her being the Head Girl, and being rather good at potions.

"No," Severus said shortly. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"No one has seen her all evening," Sprout continued, wringing her hands. "She was supposed to meet her boyfriend at four o'clock, but she never shown up. No one has seen hide or hair of her."

"Well, do tell me how the search goes."

"Minerva wishes that every staff member helps in the search for her."

Severus cursed under his breath. "Fine! Fine! Let's go search for the silly girl. Probably just had another boy catch her interest and she's off with him right now…"

~*~

Harry and Sirius were in the hotel room. Sirius was scanning over a copy of the Daily Prophet that he had bought while on a risky trip to Diagon Alley while Harry was taking exams. It was filled with the usual blather of the rising price of Dragon Livers, and which member of a famous band was caught with an illegal magic carpet. Harry was sitting on the bed, flicking through channels on the television, something he usually only watched while visiting Cam.

Harry had switched to a dish cleaning commercial, when-

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed, clapping his head to his forehead. His scar had just given a nasty twinge.

"Is something wrong Harry?" Sirius asked, looking up from his newspaper.

"No… just a headache." Another pain shot through his scar.

"I'll get you some water. Maybe that will help." While Sirius went into the small kitchen in their hotel room, Harry slumped to the floor, his hand clasped over his scar.

~*~

Morgan was too scared to scream. She was too scared to do anything. She was tied up again, and had fallen again to the floor. She was staring up at the turbaned man, who had just conjured up a goblet of water.

"It is almost time Master…" the man whispered. "In mere moments you will have your body. You will have returned."

"Hurry up Quirrell…" said that voice that seemed to come from Quirrell himself. "Do it."

Quirrell took the blood-red stone and put it into the goblet. Then he set the goblet aside, and reached for his turban, beginning to unravel it. Morgan watched in horror as the turban fell away, and Quirrell turned around to pick up the goblet. Only then did she start to scream.

There was a face- a face in the back of Quirrell's head. It was horrible, undoubtedly the most terrifying thing that she had ever seen. White as snow, with burning red eyes and snakelike nostrils… surely she was going to die from fright. Out of the corner of her mind she saw Quirrell take a long drink from the goblet, and the next thing she knew, the terrible face was right in front of her.

The face was smirking down at her, now separated from Quirrell's body, and just floating in midair above her. Then, a swirling black fog appeared. It filled the room, covering everything and making it impossible to see. Morgan continued to scream.

There was a cruel laugh that echoed around the room. The laugh was cold and purely evil. Then the fog lifted, and standing before her was a tall, thin man, with huge hands, like spiders.

"Hello," the man said. Morgan continued to shriek, tears of fear running down her face as she tried to move. "I am Lord Voldemort. Goodbye."

Then there was a flash of green light, and Morgan stopped screaming. She was dead.

~*~


"Harry! Harry!" Sirius yelled, shaking his violently twitching godson. Harry was moaning, rolling around and clutching his scar. "Harry snap out of it! Come on Harry!"

He had never seen Harry like his. Something must have happened, but what? What had caused this episode?
All of a sudden, Harry sat up, nearly colliding with Sirius's head, still panting hard and clutching his scar.

"Sirius-"

"Are you okay!"

"Sirius-"

"What's wrong?"

"Sirius... He's back."