I'm back, after a much-needed break. This chapter will go straight through the holidays and into the next term. I feel so bad for having made all of you wait, and I hope you can forgive me. There really is no excuse, other than the US Air Force tends to take up a lot of my time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sat in his room, absently stroking the soft white fur of Archimedes and looking out his window. The other students had left two hours ago on the train, and Harry was left alone in his dormitory. He was so lost in thought he didn't notice the figure enter the room and slink up behind him, watching him intently.
"Are you packed?" The silky voice made him jump, and he stood to face his uncle.
"Sir?" Harry asked him, trying with all his might to keep from looking at his shoes. He was surprised the man had come up at all, and was wondering now to what he was referring.
"Gather what you will need for the holidays and have a house elf bring it to your room downstairs. Then report to my study." With that, Snape whirled and exited, his black robes the only mark that the man was irate. Harry absently obeyed his uncle's request and soon, he found himself treading to the dungeons.
Carefully, he entered his uncle's rooms and made his way quietly to the study. The door was open, so he stood at the entrance, peering in at his uncle reading in his favorite chair.
"Come in," Harry was startled from his spot by the soft voice of his uncle, and he shuffled to the couch and sat gingerly on its edge, as if poised to flee. Snape shut the book and set it on the end table, steepling his fingers and gazing at the boy across from him.
"Professor?" Harry tried in a small voice, but his uncle raised his hand to stop him.
"The term is over, Harry," he offered, and Harry relaxed a little.
"Uncle Severus," Harry tried again, and smiled a little at his uncle's nod. "Why am I here?"
"What do you mean, Harry?"
"Well, sir," Harry swallowed and sat up a little straighter, "You said that I was to spend the holidays in the dormitories."
"I was…" Severus paused to collect his thoughts, "upset, I guess you could say."
"But I didn't mean what I said! Honest! And yesterday, I just said what I did to shut Malfoy up! I didn't know you heard that, and I'm really sorry, and –" Severus stood abruptly, silencing Harry's apology.
"Have you not been happy these last ten years?" The question was rather abrupt and Harry had to think a moment, sending his uncle the wrong signal. "If you were unhappy, it was your duty to tell me so. We could have found a more suitable place for you to live. I told Albus in the beginning I had no idea how to raise a child."
"Sir?" Harry recognized that his uncle was rambling.
"Harry," Severus perched himself on the edge of the chair next to his nephew. "I think it's time I explained a few things to you."
"Like what?"
"Like what happened the night your parents were killed." Severus inhaled deeply, knowing full well this could cost him everything. "Harry, do you remember what I told you about Death Eaters?"
"Yeah, they're the followers of the Dark Lord."
"Right, and do you remember when I told you that, while most of them are there voluntarily, some are forced into his service?" Harry nodded and gulped, not really liking where this was going. "Harry, I was a Death Eater." There, he'd said it; now all he had to do was wait for Harry to run.
"Who forced you to join him!" Harry leapt from his seat, but Severus put a calming hand on his shoulder.
"No one," he answered softly, and Harry sat back down in disbelief. "When I was young, not too much older than you, I joined a group here at Hogwarts. We were a secret society, bent on finishing school and then joining the Dark Lord. My father was so proud the day I took the mark. He had raised me by himself, as mother had died shortly after she gave birth to me." Harry nodded dumbly, having known about his grandparents from a prior conversation.
"Why?" The question came out strained and much more quiet than Harry had intended, but Severus heard it the same.
"Because I had to, because it was the only way anyone would pay attention to me, there are many reasons, Harry. But the most common and powerful reason is power. The Dark Lord offered me power, prestige, and money. To a Slytherin, that's very tempting; especially one who was always ignored by his peers, taunted by his enemies, and pressured by his father."
"So you were raised a Death Eater?" Harry ventured, feeling extremely uncomfortable about the topic, but glad that someone was actually talking to him about his parents, in a roundabout sort of way.
"Yes. But while I did many horrible things as a Death Eater, I soon realized that it was not what I wanted to do anymore. But one does not simply leave the Dark Lord's service, unless they are caught and thrown into Azkaban. So, when I came to Albus and confessed my sins, he offered an alternative to Azkaban."
"Which was?" Harry prodded.
"That does not concern you, nor do you need to know it. However, you must know that I am not a loyal follower of the Dark Lord anymore." Harry nodded vigorously. "And here's the trick, Harry; this is why you have to be careful around certain people. The Death Eaters who remained loyal to the Dark Lord after his downfall still believe me loyal, so you cannot breath a word of this to anyone. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, sir. I'm very good at keeping secrets. I have been living with a Slytherin for ten years." Severus chuckled lightly and smirked in annoyance. "What does any of this have to do with the night Mum and Dad died?"
"I was just getting to it, do not be impatient." Severus sighed, collecting his thoughts, and continued on. "That night, after the Dark Lord's downfall, the mark he had bestowed upon me burned for a moment, then faded almost completely. I came to tell Albus, and you were already here, in the arms of Fletcher and Moody." Harry nodded eagerly, ready to add to the conversation.
"And then the man from the Ministry came and read Mum and Dad's wills. You got her journal, read it, took me home, and here I am!" Harry grinned a little, and Severus could not stop himself from scoffing.
"If you are quite finished with your histrionics, Mr. Potter?" he said huffily.
"Sorry," Harry ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Got a little excited."
"Hmm," Severus returned. "In any case, you should know that I was not the only relative who could have taken you."
"What?" Harry was confused. How could he have relatives and not know about them?
"They are Muggles, Lily's sister, well, half-sister, Petunia. She married a man named Vernon Dursley a few years before you were born, and up until several years ago, they lived in Surrey."
"Muggles? They couldn't have taken me, could they?"
"Yes, if there had been nowhere else for you to go, you would have gone to live with them until you turned eleven."
"Wait, you said 'up until several years ago.' Where do they live now?" Severus took a deep breath and steeled himself for Harry's reaction.
"When you were five years old, we received a report of an attack on a Muggle family in Surrey. When the Ministry went to investigate, they found your aunt and cousin dead, and your uncle insane from the Cruciatus. He is currently in a department of St. Mungo's for Muggles attacked by wizards."
"So, they're dead? My aunt and cousin, I mean." Severus merely nodded as Harry took in the information. He had thought all his life that his uncle was his only relative, and he was fine with that. But now, knowing he had relatives and never got to know them, he was saddened, and perhaps a little angry.
"What were they like?" he found himself asking, before he let his anger get the best of him.
"I do not tend to speak ill of the dead, but they were not very pleasant. Petunia hated all wizarding kind, and hated your mother the most of all for being a witch. Envy, I suppose. And when she married Dursley, she poisoned his mind and turned him against wizards as well. I don't suppose either of us would have been welcome in their home." Severus felt that the truth was the best course at the moment, having hidden this from Harry for nearly six years.
"Can I go see him?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. Severus looked at the boy in shock and disbelief. "I just want to…to meet him, I guess."
"Perhaps," Severus managed after a few deep breaths. "But now we must focus on the holidays, and preparing for the return of the students."
"Uncle!" Harry laughed, "The holidays just began. Relax a little; I've never spent a holiday in the castle before. I expect it will be amazing."
"Yes, very festive," Severus said flatly. Harry stood and made for the door, but stopped and walked slowly back over to his uncle.
"Do you regret taking me in?" Severus' head snapped up and he gazed into the boy's emerald eyes. His mind raced back several years, and his breath caught in his throat.
An eight-year old Harry Potter raced through the kitchen to his stairs, tears streaming down his face. "You never let me do anything I want to do! If you didn't want me, you shouldn't have kept me!" he screamed back at his now-irate uncle who was trailing him.
"Then perhaps I should have sent you to an orphanage in the first place!" Severus yelled up the stairs after his nephew. He resisted the urge to follow him and curse the child into oblivion, and instead sat at his dining table, head in hands.
"Harry, I'll admit that we've not had an easy time of this," he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "but I would not have changed a day." He graced his nephew with an affectionate smile, something reserved for Harry alone, and the boy launched himself into the man's arms. Neither of them was any good at voicing what they wanted to say, but as Harry wrapped his arms around the man's neck, and he felt his uncle's protective embrace surround him, both knew their bond had been restored, perhaps stronger than ever.
"What do you say you start working on a Christmas list, young man," Severus said after a few moments, pulling away. Harry grinned and pulled a roll of parchment from his robe. "I should have known," Severus sighed.
"What are you reading?" Harry walked over and picked up his uncle's book from the table. "Poets of the Twentieth Century? You're reading a Muggle book?" Severus stood and swiped the book gracefully from Harry's hand.
"I'll have you know that poetry is relaxing and comforting. You can always find a poem, for any occasion." Harry smirked, dodging a cuff from his uncle. "Sit down, if you don't believe me." Harry smartly sat down in the chair, ignoring his uncle's mirthful glare. Instead of pulling another chair, Severus decided to sit in his chair, causing Harry to yelp in surprise and jump to one side, nearly on the arm rest.
"Hey!"
"If you want to sit in my chair, there will be consequences." Harry smiled cheekily and settled down, much to his uncle's annoyance.
"You were saying something about poems?" Harry asked haughtily.
"Brat," Severus whispered under his breath, but Harry heard him all the same. "Be quiet and listen." He flipped it to a rather worn-looking page, as if this particular poem had been read many times over the years. Severus wrapped his right arm about the boy's shoulders and cleared his throat. Slowly, he began to read, methodically and softly, intoning perfectly.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
Harry smiled, understanding that the last line was meant for him, and he jumped out of the chair. "Thanks, Uncle Severus. My life would have been a lot different without you." Harry gave him a brief hug and bolted out of the room, determined to finish his holiday homework by dinner.
*****
"I trust you've resolved everything, Severus?" Flitwick asked as the staff gathered for their holiday staff party. Begrudgingly, Severus reminded himself of the benefits of having missed so many Christmas' at Hogwarts: no staff parties.
"Yes, we had a long sit and discussed the problems." Severus managed a polite tone, though anyone within ten feet knew the man was not happy about being there.
"And where is Mr. Potter, hmm?" the diminutive wizard squeaked.
"He is currently owling his friends with their presents, I believe." Severus had had just enough conversation with the Head of Ravenclaw to last the rest of the break, and he quickly made an excuse to see Dumbledore, who was currently trying on one of the many hats that had emerged from the poppers.
"Ah, Severus," the old man beamed, "top hat?" Severus sneered at the proffered item and drew himself up.
"No, Headmaster. I believe I've fulfilled my duty of presence here. If I may be excused to my leisure, I have a promise to fulfill." Without waiting for a protest from Dumbledore, he swept out of the room and down to his rooms, where Harry was reading his Transfiguration text.
"Getting a head start on next term?" Severus asked approvingly. Harry only nodded, engrossed in the text. "Did you send your presents off?" Again, the boy nodded. "Would you like to go visit Mr. Dursley?" Harry slammed his book closed and leapt off the couch.
"Can we really?" he asked, more excited than he'd thought he'd be. At his uncle's nod, he walked swiftly to his room, knowing how his uncle hated running indoors, and grabbed his travel cloak. Seconds later, Harry emerged ready to go and waited patiently for his uncle. Finally, the man came out of his rooms and wordlessly walked out, Harry trailing silently behind him.
"We will be Flooing there," Severus stated matter-of-factly, knowing Harry didn't care how they got there. They left the castle after informing the Headmaster, and climbed into a carriage that would take them to Hogsmeade. After a short ride, they stepped down into the busy town, and Harry walked closely next to his uncle, not wanting to be lost in the Christmas crowd.
Shortly, they reached the Floo station, and Harry steeled himself for the rough ride. Christmas was always a bad time to Floo, what with all the traffic, and therefore it was usually rougher than normal.
"You will go first. When you reach your destination, stay put. I do not want to have to look for you, is that understood?" Harry nodded, knowing the tone of voice his uncle used was not to be disobeyed. After a short, balding man left for Wheatsheaf, Harry stepped up to the platform and grabbed a fistful of powder.
"St. Mungo's!" he called out clearly, and he vanished in a flash of fire. He emerged rather quickly in a large room, several groups of people scattered about. He stepped aside to allow his uncle to exit and looked around at the different people.
A small group of hags were cackling over in a corner, and one turned to gleam at him momentarily before turning back to her gaggle. Harry shook off a chill and turned his attention away from them. What looked like a family group was sitting on a couch on the far wall The little boy was apparently ill and had his head in his mother's lap and his feet in his father's. Both adults were looking worriedly at the child; then the mother brushed the bangs out of the small child's face and caressed his cheek lovingly. Harry's heart gave a familiar ache before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the knowing eyes of his uncle and he gave a small smile, feeling comforted by the man's touch.
"Come on, then," he heard his uncle say, and he smiled to himself as he remained in the safe half-embrace. They made there way to the entrance desk, where the Welcome Witch smiled at them politely.
"Wands, please and reason for visit." Severus removed his wand and peered at Harry, who looked at him quizzically.
"Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling his wand from its place and handing to the witch. "Not used to it," he shrugged sheepishly, and Severus hid a smirk.
"We're here to visit a Muggle, Vernon Dursley," Severus stated, and the witch nodded, waving her wand swiftly. They were each handed a purple badge with a large number 11 on it and sent on their way.
Harry's stomach flip-flopped as they entered Ward 11 and proceeded to Room 114. They stopped abruptly outside and Severus turned to Harry.
"Would you like to go in alone?" he asked softly, more for the benefit of Harry than the rules of the hospital. Shaking his head, he waited for his uncle to open the door before he walked in, feeling a little steadier for the man's presence behind him.
A large man lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His dinner lay untouched, and Severus knew the attendant would be in any moment to feed the Muggle.
"Harry, we must be quick. They will want to feed him dinner soon." Harry nodded, barely registering his uncle's words. Harry approached the bed cautiously, knowing the man didn't, and would never, recognize him.
"Mr. Dursley?" he said shakily, somehow it felt wrong to call this man "uncle." There was no response, and Harry's shoulders slumped.
"Harry, he can't respond," Severus whispered. Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the man in the bed. He took a few more steps until he was right next to him and took a shaky breath.
"Sir, I know you don't like wizards, but I am sorry that you lost your family." Harry whispered this, but it was loud enough for Severus to hear in the deathly silent room. Harry stayed for a few more moments before turning and walking into his uncle's open arms. He didn't cry, for some reason he could find no tears for the man lying comatose in the hospital bed. Guiltily, one thought kept running through Harry's mind as they made their way out and back to Hogwarts.
At least you got to know your family.
*****
Christmas morning came, and Harry scrambled out of bed at seven in the morning, disturbing Archimedes. The snow white cat let out a moan of agitation before settling back down in the covers. Harry ordered breakfast for his uncle and himself before tiptoeing carefully to the man's room. As he did every Christmas, he jumped on his uncle's bed, forgetting momentarily that they were not at the Manor, but in fact at school.
"Insolent brat!" he heard his uncle's muffled cry from within the confines of the blankets. Harry grinned widely and pulled on his uncle's arm until the man stood, glaring at the boy.
"Can't you sleep in, just once, at Christmas?" Harry shook his head violently, and raced out of the room, followed slowly by a lethargic potions master. He spelled his night robes into daily ones and sat down at breakfast, deliberately taking his time to annoy the bouncing eleven year old at the other end of the table.
"Come on, Uncle Severus!"
"Harry, you are a schooling wizard now and I expect you to behave as though you are not five years old!" he scolded. "Try to show some manners befitting a person of your class." Harry cast his eyes downward and apologized hastily, before making his way out of the dining room and into his room. He dressed quickly, stroking Archimedes' soft fur in an apology for jostling him before making his way out into the main room. His uncle was ready to join the others in the staff room, and Harry furrowed his brow.
"We will be opening presents with the rest of the staff, Harry. This is not like Christmas at the manor." Harry nodded in understanding and followed the man out and up to the staff room. Very few professors had stuck around for the holidays, and Harry smiled when he saw his Head of House and the Headmaster.
"Happy Christmas, Harry!" the venerable wizard greeted jovially. Harry couldn't help but beam back at the man and took his seat next to his uncle. Professor Flitwick levitated everyone's presents to them, and Harry was excited when his professor asked him to help.
As soon as everyone had their gifts, all eyes turned to Harry, who frantically grabbed the nearest gift and tore into it. It was a blue and gold scarf from his Head of House, who promptly added to Severus that every first year received one from him every Christmas. This made Harry feel better as he studied it, only to find that the embroidered eagles were flying around in their own little sections. He thanked his professor and grabbed another, only to be stopped by his uncle.
"It is someone else's turn, I believe," Severus said, looking up at the Headmaster.
"Oh Severus, it's Christmas," Professor McGonagall stated, "Let him enjoy." She graced Harry with a rare smile, which Harry shyly returned. Severus sighed and took his hand from Harry's shoulder.
"Very well, then. If you must." Harry's face split into a grin and he reached for Hermione's present. It was labeled "To be opened in private," and he quickly set it behind him, hoping his uncle wouldn't ask any questions. He didn't, thankfully, and Harry grabbed Colt's gift.
"Something better than the school issue, I think," Harry read the tag aloud, then tore into the blue wrapping. Excitedly, he pulled out Seeker gloves, embossed with his initials and a small blue eagle. He smiled and set them on top of the scarf, eagerly reaching for the next present. As he did, the Headmaster cleared his throat.
"Severus thought it would be terribly inappropriate for us to get you a Christmas gift, something about favorability or some nonsense," Harry smiled at the old man's twinkle. "But please come see me before you run off, Harry. I have something of your father's I would like to give you." Harry's ears perked up and he started at the Headmaster's words.
"M-my father's, sir?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes, dear boy. And as it is an inheritance, you are not required to relinquish it to anyone," the Headmaster seemed to point this comment more to Severus than Harry, and Severus' brow furrowed.
"Headmaster, what –"
"Nothing of importance, Severus. Just some of James' old school things." Severus seemed appeased by this answer, but Harry was just more confused. Puzzled, he grabbed one of the two remaining presents from his uncle and opened it.
"Perhaps a little something to read in your off time, rather than always in your texts?" Severus asked softly. Harry smiled at the poetry book and set it down in his lap, accepting the final present from his uncle. "I have read it many times, Harry," his uncle said as he unwrapped the leather journal. "Perhaps you can learn more of your mother from that, hmm?" Harry's eyes became warm with tears as he fingered his mother's journal. A small flower was stitched into the cover in the bottom right corner, and he carefully traced his fingers over it. Knowing it would not do to hug his uncle in front of his teachers (not to mention feeling incredibly embarrassed at the thought), he quickly gathered his things, placing Hermione's unopened present under the scarf, and stood.
"I think I'll go to my room and put my things away. Thank you, everyone." He waited for a nod from his uncle before departing, and as he made his way past the Great Hall, he peeked in, seeing the other students. Quickly, he deposited his things in the dungeon and raced back up, eager to join his classmates.
As he entered, he saw that all of the students were occupying one table, all of them huddled around a large bowl of eggnog and sharing gifts and notes. As he approached, a few of the older students eyed him with awe, while Ron gave him a small smile.
"Hi Harry," he greeted softly, still treading softly around the boy from their earlier encounter.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, and waited for the young boy to look at his brothers. Fred shrugged, and Ron grinned, nodding. Harry took a seat next to them and watched them finish a chess game.
"Wanna play?" Ron offered Harry as the board reset itself.
"Sure, but I'm not very good. My uncle tried to teach me once, but he always kept beating me, so I stopped." Harry watched as the final piece snapped itself into place, and Ron made the first move.
Thirty moves later, Harry was in checkmate, and his king waved a tiny fist at him as he fell over, defeated. "Well, that was fun," he commented dryly. "I have to go see the Headmaster," he said, standing up. "Thank you for letting me play."
"No problem, Harry," Ron said. "Anytime." Harry waved goodbye and trotted up the staircases to the staff room. Inside, he found his Head of House and a rather odd looking woman he'd never met.
"Excuse me," he said quietly, drawing his Head of House's attention. "I was told to see the Headmaster." Flitwick's eyes lit up and he politely, but hastily, excused himself from the woman's company.
"No matter, Filius," she replied wistfully, "I must return to the Tower and consult the Orb anyway. Good day." She glided out of the room and down the hallway. Harry shook his head and followed the Charms professor to a large stone gargoyle.
"Sugar Quills," he squeaked, and the gargoyle shifted to reveal a spiraling staircase. "He is expecting you, I believe. Just go to the top of the stairs and knock." Harry nodded and thanked the wizard before climbing the stairs. When he reached a large wooden door, he knocked twice.
"Come in, Harry," he heard the Headmaster's gentle voice drift through the door, and he carefully opened it a little and slipped inside. "Sit down, dear boy." Harry obeyed wordlessly, and his expression shifted to surprise when the Headmaster deposited a gift into his lap. He undid the ribbon carefully and pulled the paper away, revealing a stunning cloak.
"Wow," he whispered, "thank you, sir." Harry grasped the cloak as if he could know his father through it, and he imagined his father wearing it about his shoulders proudly.
"That is a special cloak, Harry. Use it well." With that, the Headmaster stood and disappeared into a back room, leaving Harry alone. Harry stood and tucked the cloak under his arm, for it would seem silly for him to walk around in a cloak much to large for him. He would wait to try it on once he was in the safety of his room. With that thought, he gathered the paper and threw it away before heading out the door and down the stairs. He paused for a moment to gaze at the magnificent gargoyle, but only for a moment as he raced back down the stairs and into the dungeons that housed his room.
Once inside, he shut his bedroom door and unfolded the cloak, admiring its sheen. He walked over to the mirror and draped the cloak over his shoulders, nearly falling over himself as he gazed in the mirror. He was invisible! His dad had left him an invisibility cloak!
After gasping aloud, he pulled it off, remembering the Headmaster's words. Use it well, he had said, but what did he mean? As Harry carefully folded the cloak and placed it at the bottom of his trunk, he remembered Hermione's present. Quickly, he grabbed the heavy rectangular object, knowing it was a book, and opened it.
"A Beginner's Guide to Becoming an Animagus," he read quietly, and grinned. He picked up the note she had written him and read it to himself.
Harry,
I sent another copy to Colt and kept one for myself. No sense in putting off the inevitable. I do hope you sorted things out with Professor Snape. I'll see you in a couple of weeks.
Hermione
He smiled and flipped through the book, a little intimidated at some of the diagrams shown, then placed it under his cloak. No sense in his uncle finding out; he'd be grounded until he graduated. He stood and made his way to his desk, determined to get his thank you letters done before his uncle nagged him about it. He ripped into a chocolate frog, pleased to see that he had gotten a card he didn't have: Dumbledore's. As he read the back of the card, one thought filled his head, and his thank you letters to Colt and Hermione soon turned into much more.
After he'd finished most of his letters, he stood and stretched, noting the time. It was well after his bedtime, and his uncle would be in to check on him soon. His eyes shifted from the wizard card to his trunk, and a small smile graced his lips. He scrambled under the covers and placed his glasses on the bedside table, shutting his eyes firmly. Seconds later, his door opened, and he heard his uncle sigh.
"Good night, Harry," Snape whispered, then shut the door. Harry waited moments before turning over and staring intently at the crack under his door. When it was completely dark, Harry counted to one hundred before getting out of bed and pulling out his cloak. Pulling it on, he admired himself in the mirror before he disappeared completely. Slowly, he made his way up and out of the dungeons, wandering around without the slightest worry of being caught by Filch or anyone else. He found himself in the library, and he quietly slipped to the Restricted Section, careful not to make a noise. Quickly, he sifted through the books on the shelf, looking for anything that would help him.
Suddenly, a small meow startled him. He turned to see Mrs. Norris, and he bolted, knowing Filch wouldn't be far behind. He headed back toward the dungeons, being as quiet as he could. He was about to round a corner when he heard his uncle's voice.
"We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie." Harry was surprised to see Quirrell on the receiving end of the cold sneer in his uncle's tone, and made to carefully move past them. As he did, Filch came up from the corridor.
"Professors," he seemed a little out of breath, "Someone's been in the restricted section. A student's out of bed." Without thinking, they took off toward the upper rooms of the castle, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He still had time to get back in bed.
He turned around and walked through a door he'd never seen before. Perhaps it's a short cut, he thought. He saw another door at the other side of the room, and he started for it, but a gleam pulled his attention.
A mirror stood in the corner of the room, alone, and Harry's curiosity got the better of him. He walked over, standing directly in front of the mirror, peering in. Slowly, two images faded in and he gasped.
"Mum? Dad?" he whispered. The woman with fiery red hair nodded, and the man who looked so much like him smiled. The woman smiled softly as well, placing her hand on his shoulder. To Harry's surprise, he felt it, as if she were really standing behind him.
Then remembering that the teachers were on the prowl, he stood and bolted, throwing one last look at the mirror, and knowing he'd be back.
*****
"Back again, Harry?" the boy started at the Headmaster's voice behind him, and he snapped his head around, remaining on the floor in front of the mirror.
"Headmaster, I –" The old wizard held up a hand and looked down at him.
"I do not need the use of cloaks to become invisible," the old man said, handing the boy the delicate cloak. "I expect that by now, you've discovered what the mirror does?"
"It shows us whatever we want?" Harry tried.
"Not quite, but let's try this. The happiest man in the world will look into it and see only himself."
"So it shows us our deepest desire," Harry whispered, turning back to gaze at the two people who he longed for all his life.
"Precisely," the Headmaster praised. "But tomorrow, the Mirror will be moved to its new home, and I must ask that you not go looking for it again." Harry nodded, his heart constricting painfully. He stood, feeling the arm of the Headmaster drape across his shoulders. "Let's get you back to bed. The term will start in a few days, and I suspect you'll want to get the most out of the last few days of the holidays." Harry smiled and bid the wizard goodnight, before pulling the cloak about him and dashing back to bed. Before he climbed under his covers, his eyes fell upon the two unfinished letters to Colt and Hermione. Quickly, he jotted down a sentence or two on each, sealed them for delivery tomorrow, and drifted off to dream about a life with two loving parents. As his parents pushed a five year old version of him on the swings, his little eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow standing in the distance, a small tear the only betrayal of its sadness.
*****
"So you think the Sorcerer's Stone is in the castle?" Colt asked quietly as they sat over their first Potions assignment of the term.
"No, I'm sure that's what's hidden in the castle. Remember what Hagrid said? Fluffy's guarding it!" Harry exclaimed. "But where would you keep a three-headed dog without anyone knowing?"
"The out of bounds area on the third floor," Hermione put in. "I can't believe I'm actually contributing to this conversation," she reprimanded herself.
"That's brilliant Hermione! But who's trying to get the Stone? And why?"
"Well, Harry…" Hermione started uncertainly, but stopped.
"What?"
"No, you won't like it!" she shook her head.
"Come on," he pleaded. "Anything will work."
"Alright, but you have to promise not to get upset," Harry nodded. "Your uncle did get injured that night on Halloween. And you said he was having an odd conversation with Quirrell about loyalties over the holidays." Harry nodded again, not liking where it was headed, but determined to work it out anyway. "What if he's trying to get to the Stone?"
Harry moved to shake his head, but he stopped as thoughts raced through his mind. It wasn't totally impossible, so he couldn't rule it out based on his relationship with the man.
"Maybe we should go to Hagrid," Colt offered, "Try and get more out of him. He does seem to slip up quite a bit."
"I don't know if I feel comfortable using him like that," Hermione said.
"So we won't," Harry said. "We'll just visit him, and strike up conversation. See what comes up." Hermione shook her head, muttering something about "Slytherins in hiding," as they put the final touches on their essays and headed off for dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How's that? Eleven pages in Word. Not much I know, but something at least. My muse finally came off his strike, so he's getting back to inspiring me.
On a more happy note for me, my PALACE CHASE was approved, and I'm transferring from Active Duty to the Air National Guard. I'll be moving back home to finish school and commission myself to be an officer in the Air Force. Much fun for me. Hopefully, this will give me a little more time to write, or it may cut out my time altogether. We'll see.
The next chapter will have a talk with Hagrid, baby Norbert, a stroll through the woods, and Harry's first (second) encounter with Voldemort. TTFN ~ Rickman's Girl