HPDBZ and the Sorcerers' Stone

by KlosetAuthor

What if Harry hadn't been given to the Dursleys, but had been taken to live with the Worlds Strongest Martial Artist. I saw a few crossovers with this idea, but most were poorly written or abandoned. I thought there was potential, so here's my attempt.

6. Who Dares to Love Forever?

Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone

See Chapter 1 because I only own Harry Potter and Dragon Ball Z when I look into the Mirror of Erised.

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Chapter 6: Who Dares to Love Forever?

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The next day Hermione was antsy to get her answers. Harry had to promise her he'd find a place they could talk after dinner before she would even let them go down to breakfast. Once they were in the great hall eating breakfast she had begged to do it during lunch, but Harry told her it might take too long. She eventually gave in, but Harry was sure he'd be having the same discussion at lunch, especially after seeing how uncharacteristically distracted she was during class. She didn't even raise her hand once during transfiguration. Professor McGonagall looked worried. It was almost enough to make Harry decide to skip lunch. But Hermione would probably just spend lunch tracking him down and he'd just be hungry during class.

Harry didn't think Hermione would have eaten anything for dinner if he hadn't insisted he wasn't going to tell her anything before he'd finished his own. As it was she mostly just moved the food around on her plate until Harry decided it was time to go.

He took Hermione and Ron to an old classroom a little ways off from the path most Gryffindors took to get back to the tower. Hermione started shifting back and forth and biting her lip as soon as they got there, but Harry decided it would be best to just explain from the beginning before she could start in on her questions.

"Please sit down Hermione," Harry gestured toward the chairs in the room as he grabbed one and turned it to face everyone. He started his lecture as soon as he sat down. "Now, Every living thing has an energy field: trees, grass, animals, even people. Now the secret to Kame-senin is learning to use that energy to make yourself stronger and faster, exceeding your body's natural limits."

"Are you talking about adrenalin?" Hermione asked. "Because if you found a way to constantly make your body produce adrenalin that's dangerous."

"No it isn't some way to control adrenalin." Harry tried to sooth his new friend. "We control the energy that every living thing has. A while back scientists were using special cameras to take pictures of that energy.

"You mean the Kirlian aura cameras?" Hermione asked, but continued on before Harry could answer. "But no one's ever been able to prove that they can control that energy. Everyone that's ever tried turned out to be a hoax."

Harry wanted to remind Hermione that she was currently attending a school for witchcraft and wizardry. But he didn't want to start an argument and he could see that Ron looked lost.

"Maybe it would be better if I showed you," Harry decided. Standing up he gestured with his hands and the chairs around him were pushed back. Hermione looked on skeptically as Harry moved his feet farther apart, crouched down and bowed his head. Harry breathed in deeply and balled his hands into fists. Then he bent his elbows and brought his fists to his sides.

Ron looked on expectantly, trying not to miss anything as Harry started to growl softly. And as he did his robes began to rustle in a nonexistent breeze. Hermione's expression began to change from skeptical to awed. Harry's growl began to get louder and his robes began to billow even more violently. Even his hair began to sway. After a couple of seconds Harry's body began to glow until Harry screamed and his body was encased in a billowing blue tinted white aura. When he was done both Ron and Hermione could feel a warm breeze blowing out from him.

Hermione's eyes had gone wide. She stood up and walked dumbly toward Harry and reached out to try and touch him. "It doesn't burn," she commented as her hand entered into the swirling white nimbus around Harry's body. "But I can feel it pushing my hand back."

"Yes," Harry replied. "You should be able to touch me if you push a little harder." Hermione did. Then after a couple of quiet seconds, realized what she was doing and jerked her hand back.

"So all of us have this energy inside us?" Ron asked.

"Yes, everything that is alive does, but usually not so much. Part of the training is to strengthen our energy, making more of it."

"Make more of it?" Hermione asked. "Some people claim that the aura is part of our soul. It shouldn't be possible to make more." Hermione seemed to have taken a complete turn around on her ideas about modern mysticism now that she'd seen Harry's aura.

"I don't know if it's a part of the soul, but once you start using the energy to strengthen yourself you start to use it up making you tiered. And when you rest it regenerates. And like muscles the more you use it the more your body or soul creates. I suspect magical energy is the same. But most people almost never use their ki, so it stays pretty much the same only getting a little stronger as they grow."

"So this is different than magical energy?" Hermione asked, her face screwed up in thought, finally showing she was getting back to her analytical self.

"I think so." Harry replied hesitantly. "My brother has tons more ki that I do, but he can't do magic at all. It's one of the things I'd hoped t learn more about, but the teachers mostly talk about the how and not the why, and I haven't found much about the nature of magical or living energies in the library yet."

At the mention of research Hermione's eyes started to sparkle in a way that Harry would have thought meant mischief on anyone else. "Look I'm trying to keep my abilities as secret as possible. I already get gawked at enough as it is and I really don't want to be some scientist or wizard's research subject. So please don't tell anyone about this or talk about it where anyone can hear you. And Hermione if you want to study about this in the library that would be great and I'd appreciate the help, but please be sure to be low key about it so no one gets suspicious."

Hermione nodded and was about to ask a question, but Ron beat her to it. "Do you reckon that this was what saved you from the killing curse?"

"I don't think so Ron. I had to train very hard to get this much power and I didn't start that until I was five years old. My energy might be able to protect me from the killing curse now, but I really don't want to test it out if you know what I mean."

Ron nodded sagely at Harry's response. Hermione however had been getting hyper during the exchange and was now bouncing back and fort between her feet and biting her lip again. "Do you think you could teach us?"

Harry should have known Hermione would be excited by the prospect of learning anything. "I don't know." Harry replied hesitantly. "I'm really not sure how all of this does or doesn't relate to magic and how it might affect you learning magic. And I'm not sure I'd be allowed to."

Hermione looked disappointed so Harry tried to discourage her with another track. "Are you really sure you'd want to. The training isn't like learning magic. You would have to do constant physical training harder than anything you've ever done before. For the first few months you'd be tiered all day every day. And when you finally started to use your ki the workouts would get even more grueling."

Hermione looked even more disappointed after that and let the conversation be steered away from Harry teaching them. But Harry could tell that there was still a spark inside Hermione that wanted to learn this new skill.

From there the conversation drifted into various aspects of Harry's power and skills. Harry demonstrated his speed by running across the room so fast that he appeared to disappear and reappear somewhere else. He even demonstrated leaving an after image. He demonstrated his strength by having Ron sit on a chair with Hermione on his lap and then lifting the chair with both of them on it. It was an hour before they finally left back to the dorm room.

Few things can bring people as close together as a shared life or death experience, but it seemed that sharing a secret was one of them. As November began to bring on winter's chill Harry found that wherever he went Ron and Hermione were almost always near by. Harry hadn't realized the toll hiding his powers from everyone had taken on him. He felt so light and free now that he had someone to confide in. Against his better judgment he even told them about his early morning training and his desire to find a way out of the castle so he could have more space to train. They insisted on seeing the secret room, but they didn't try to join him when he trained.

The quidditch season started in November and that Saturday Harry would be playing in his first game after only a few weeks of training. Harry was nervous. He'd never played a team sport before unless major league butt kicking had become a sport. And all of Wood's talk about Harry being their secret weapon made Harry feel he'd have to do very well to live up to Wood's expectations.

And Wood didn't just talk about Harry being their secret weapon. He did his best to ensure Harry stayed secret. He made the team do their best to avoid him, though he couldn't keep Fred and George away. He even made Harry keep his bright cherry colored broom wrapped up when he carried around and all but had Harry sneak onto the pitch.

But despite all of Wood's crazy plans the secret leaked out. It wasn't long before it seemed that Harry's position on the Gryffindor team was the most popular subject for discussion. One girl from Slytherin had teased him, offering to run beneath him with a mattress. Harry hadn't been able to contain himself and just laughed at her hysterically. He could fly at speeds beyond the speed of sound; of all his concerns about the game falling wasn't one of them.

For some reason it caught on and soon most of slithering and a smattering of smart-alecks from the other houses were offering to carry mattresses for him. Malfoy had been the most gracious however, as he offered to have the entire pitch padded. Fred and George apologized that because they would be playing too they wouldn't be able to catch him if he fell. It was so funny that he didn't worry much about disappointing everyone who expressed their faith in his abilities.

Now Harry was no stranger to intense studying, but being friends with Hermione was a lifesaver. With Wood scheduling extra practices nearly every night, his own personal training, and the work his mother sent him, Harry didn't think he get all his schoolwork done if it weren't for Hermione's help. He tried to return the favor by tutoring her in math, but she insisted on doing as much of it as she could on her own, though she would ask for his help when she needed it now. Harry didn't know if it was her pride or if she was just being gracious about his schedule.

Hermione had also become far less strict about the rules. Harry suspected it might have something to do with having had her life saved because people were willing to break them. She didn't stop him from looking for secret passages at night, though she didn't help; not that Harry had time to do that lately.

On the day before the quidditch match the three of them were standing out in the freezing cold courtyard during their break. To stay warm Hermione had conjured a bright blue flame that she kept in a glass jar. Harry was reading a book titled The Arte of War & Daring Duel.

The book discussed the evolution of magical combat from the use of massively powerful and destructive spells to curses and the modern dueling system. It sounded like a lot of propaganda to Harry. When Harry had mentioned that to Hermione, she'd been affronted that he would accuse any book of containing anything less than the absolute truth.

The book constantly praised the elegance and precision of modern dueling technique and all of its advantages, but never mentioned the obvious, to Harry at least, advantages of conjuring massive balls of fire and rock or any of the other incredible feats the book mentioned had been used historically. The book seemed to only grudgingly mention in passing that the old elemental spells required special spells to block them depending on the attack. Then it went on to praise the fact that curses could be blocked with deft wand motions that allowed you to keep your wand pointed at your opponent. The book discussed dueling techniques in depth and even had a few useful curses in it, but it didn't mention how to do even one of the old spells.

The main thing the book had against the old spells was that they were exhausting and claimed that it was the invention of curses that allowed weaker witches and wizards to defend themselves. It constantly mentioned how magically draining the older methods were and mentioned a couple wizards that had died from magical exhaustion after using them to destroy their enemies and one wizard that had unleashed one of the spells right next to himself destroying both himself and the witches attacking his family.

This was the first time Harry had heard anyone mention that Magical exhaustion could be fatal. But it certainly explained why Professor Flitwick had seemed so adamant about avoiding magical exhaustion during that first levitation class.

Hermione however wasn't particularly happy about Harry's reading habits. "Why do you always read about fighting? Violence never solved anything."

"Oh really?" Harry asked angrily. "Do you think you could have convinced Vold…eh you-know-who or Grindlewald to stop killing people or trying to take over the world by talking to them?" When Hermione couldn't answer Harry continued. "Hermione there are people in this world that words alone won't stop. And when that happens violence becomes the only answer."

"Well you can't go beating up everyone you don't like," Hermione replied defensively

"Just because a person can do something, doesn't mean that they will. I haven't beaten up Malfoy or Professor Snape yet have I? You saw what I did to the troll, what do you think I could do to Malfoy? And I didn't even kill the troll."

Hermione made a noise in her throat, but didn't seem to know what to say for a moment. "But why do you need to keep getting stronger. You're already strong enough."

"Hermione," Harry answered. "Before I came here I was one of the weakest people I knew. Most of the evil people I've ever met were stronger than me at the time. I just don't want to lose anyone else I love, because I didn't have the power to protect them." Harry's voice was so full of emotion that Hermione couldn't say anything.

Professor Snape wasn't so moved. "And just what are you three doing out here in the cold?" The three of them had been so involved in their conversation that they hadn't sensed Snape's approach. Luckily Snape had been too distracted by their conversation to notice the blue fire burning in the jar behind them. It was certainly an infraction of the rules.

"Having a philosophical debate," Hermione replied slightly heatedly. Ron and Harry looked at Hermione in shock that she'd speak to a professor that way. She seemed to be shocked that she'd done it too and now looked abashed.

Snape however didn't take it with as much good humor. Glaring at them his eyes raked them over before locking on Harry's book. "What's that you've got there, Potter?"

"Just a book sir," Harry replied not wanting to let Snape know what he was reading about.

"Lets see it then," Snape said holding out his hand.

"It's my book professor." Harry said defiantly.

"Five points for cheek Potter. Now show me the book." Snape's eyes dared Harry to let him take any more points.

Harry showed him the book and Snape immediately snatched it out of his hands and turned around. "And detention with me tomorrow morning for stealing a book out of the restricted section," Snape called as he limped away.

"It's my book not the library's," Harry yelled back. But Snape didn't even look back. So he didn't see Harry seething with his fists clenched and his feet rooted in the ground as his robes billowed around him.

Harry was upset the rest of the day. Harry couldn't concentrate on his charms homework that evening. Hermione was helping them with it. Though Ron would have been much happier if she'd let him copy hers, but she wouldn't. How would they learn if she let them do that?

It just galled Harry that a teacher could take one of his own books, he'd bought it from flourish and blots when his mother had sent him for extra books, and give him detention claiming he'd stolen it from the library. Harry had just about worked himself up enough to go find Snape and give piece of his mind when Professor McGonagall stormed into the common room.

"Mr. Potter! What is this I hear about you stealing a book out of the restricted section? And getting detention the day before a quidditch match!" McGonagall stared at Harry with her arms crossed in front of her, reminding Harry once again of his mother.

But she wasn't his mother, and Harry was already angry about the situation. "It was my book and not the library's." Harry growled back.

McGonagall lifted her eyes in shock. "Then why didn't you tell him that?"

Harry was taking a deep breath to yell at his head of house when Ron interrupted him. "But he did professor."

"Please Professor," Hermione pleaded. "He told Professor Snape twice."

"Very well, we'll see about this. Come with me Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall turned and started to stalk out of the room.

Harry followed her, his anger simmering until they reached the staff room. Professor McGonagall went in first. And when Harry stepped in behind her he could see Professor Snape had one leg on a stool with his robe pulled back showing mangled flesh below the knee. Filch was handing him bandages. "Mangey beast," Snape complained. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry couldn't see Professor McGonagall trying to use hand signals to tell Snape to be quiet. And apparently neither did Snape. Harry however couldn't help himself. Were all wizards this weak? Against a human you had to watch two arms and two legs and their head, and he had problems with just three heads? Harry snickered.

Snape's head jerked to the side and his face contorted in rage. "Potter!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. And when Harry didn't so much as flinch he continued. "Get out! Get out!"

Snape was reaching for his wand when McGonagall stepped forward and called his name sternly. "Severus Snape, young Mr. Potter is with me."

Snape put his wand away and glared daggers and McGonagall. McGonagall stared back at him like he was a naughty child, but Snape didn't relent. Harry just stood there and watched with all the enthusiasm of a spectator at a sports match. He was half tempted to start cheering for his team when Professor McGonagall spoke up.

"Mr. Potter tells me that the book you confiscated was not one of the library's."

"So he claims," Snape sneered.

"And I presume you had a look at it?" McGonagall stated smoothly, though she didn't look happy about Professor Snape's attitude.

Harry thought this was better than the staring match.

"It was titled the Art of War, It obviously belonged in the restricted section." Snape replied.

Professor McGonagall quirked an eyebrow. "I was not asking about the books content, but whether or not it belonged to the library."

"What would a first year be doing with a book like that if he didn't steal it from the restricted section?" Snape replied.

McGonagall just sighed at this. "Where is the book?" she asked.

Snape limped a couple of steps toward one of the shelves and picked it up, showing its cover to her.

"Alright, let me see it then," McGonagall took a step forward and reached out her hand. Snape hesitated. "That wasn't a request Severus," McGonagall voice was steely.

Snape looked like he was about to refuse. Harry almost hoped that he would, just so he could see what McGonagall would do. But he handed it over.

Professor McGonagall checked the inside flaps and didn't find the pocket, the Library's card or the list of students that had checked the book out. Nor was there the distinctive stamp that all of Hogwarts' library books received. "It doesn't appear to be one of ours," she declared.

"Here is your book Mr. Potter," McGonagall seemed to be making a dignified show of handing it to him. "You will not be required to attend detention tomorrow as it appears Professor Snape was mistaken. You may go now."

But Harry didn't move. "What about the points?" Harry asked.

"I didn't see any points taken for the supposed theft of a restricted book," McGonagall looked at Harry sternly.

"When I said the book was mine he took five points for cheek," Harry replied through gritted teeth.

"He refused to show me the book," Snape sneered. "The points stay regardless."

"Next time a Professor asks to see one of your books you will respect their authority and show it to them," McGonagall replied.

Harry knew he wouldn't get anywhere so he left when he was dismissed this time. He had mixed emotions about the encounter, but when he could hear Snape's yelling when he closed the door he couldn't help but smile and jogged back to the tower.

He'd been excited to tell Ron and Hermione about the confrontation between Professor Snape and McGonagall but got distracted when he got to the part about seeing Snape's lacerated leg.

"What could have cut his leg up so badly?" Hermione asked.

"The three headed dog," Harry replied. "He was complaining about not being able to keep track of all of its heads.

Hermione had been about to retort until Harry had continued. Then she looked surprised that Snape had admitted it.

"That must have been where he was going when we passed him on Halloween." Ron said excitedly.

"You passed a professor and didn't tell him where I was?" Hermione asked.

"We couldn't risk him forcing us to go back and leave you there," Harry responded.

"Harry," Hermione started to speak in her lecturing tone. "Professor Snape may not be very nice, but surely he wouldn't have left a student in danger."

"Are you willing to bet your life on that?" Harry responded.

"Harry, you have to trust the professors."

"I trust the other professors," Harry responded. "They've never attacked me or tried to steal from me."

"Do you reckon he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding?" Ron asked trying to deflect the argument.

It was the wrong thing to say. "Snape would never try and steal something if Professor Dumbledore was guarding it."

"Their teachers not saints, Hermione," Ron replied.

"No, Hermione's right" Harry replied. "Bullies like Snape don't usually have the guts to go against people that they know are stronger than them."

Hermione had started to smile when Harry had first spoken, but the look soured. That hadn't been what she'd meant at all.

"What if whatever's down there would make him more powerful than Dumbledore," Ron seemed to be thinking out loud. "He already had the troll for a distraction."

"You don't think he let the troll in as a distraction, do you?" Harry asked back.

Hermione all but exploded. "Maybe he realized someone had let it in as a distraction and went to check on it."

"She has a point there," Harry admitted. Ron didn't seem to want to admit it, but agreed. "But what's down there that someone could want it so badly?"

"It must be really important. We already know that whoever is after it is willing to set a troll loose in a school filled with children." Ron responded.

"But if we knew what it was, we might be able to tell who was after it." Harry said with finality.

That mystery and all the others that went along with it tumbled around in Harry's head as he went to sleep. They had discussed the possibilities the rest of the night, but since all they really knew or suspected was a limit of how big it could be to fit in the bag Hagrid had taken out of Gringotts. They just didn't have enough information to figure it out. And so it took Harry a while to drift restlessly off into sleep.

The next day dawned bright and early; too early for Harry, who skipped his normal workout. He didn't want to be tired for the match and he hadn't slept as well as he would have liked. He didn't eat much when he got to breakfast, which for him meant he only ate enough for one person. Hermione was torn between convincing him to eat like he usually did and satisfaction that he'd finally started eating like a normal person.

By eleven o'clock nearly the entirety of the Hogwarts population and a fair amount of their families were packed into the stands around the pitch. This was the first quidditch game the boy-who-lived was in after all. No one wanted to miss it.

Hermione and Ron met up with Dean, Seamus and Neville at the top of one of the stands. As a surprise for Harry they'd made a banner out of some ruined sheets that read: Potter for President. Dean had painted a lion on it and Hermione had charmed it to change colors.

They were setting up the banner when Hagrid came tromping up to them. "Look a' the scallywag I caught tryin' to sneak into the Gryffindor changin' room. This here is Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather." Hagrid gestured to a handsome looking man with a roguish face. "An' this here is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, you won' often find Harry with ou' them around."

"Pleased to meet you," Sirius grinned widely. "Now Ron you wouldn't be Arthur Weasley's boy would you?"

"Yes sir," Ron replied sullenly. He was tired of being somebody's brother or Arthur's son. But every time he met someone, they always saw him as someone's brother or son.

"Hey," Sirius rebuffed. "None of this sir business, I'm just Sirius. But I should have known. I thought I recognized you're mum at Madam Malkin's that day, but I hadn't seen her since the war.

"When did you see mum at Madam Malkins?" Ron asked, not sure where this was going

"When we was takin' Harry to get his school things o'course." Hagrid replied.

"That's when Harry saw you," Sirius smirked. "I was telling Harry about how I met his dad on the Hogwarts Express when he suddenly looked at the door. So I look over and a second later the door opens and in steps you're little sister with your mum dragging the rest of you behind. It was like Harry could tell she was coming." Sirius laughed at the expression on Ron's face

"Well I'm sure he just heard them or something," Hermione interrupted before Sirius could continue to wind Ron up. "He seems to always know when someone is coming. I don't know quite how he does it." Now that she thought about it Hermione wondered if it might have something to do with his crazy martial arts training.

You know you're dad caught me with my enchanted motorcycle," Sirius continued. "He scared the heck out of me, I thought I was in serious trouble. I'm just glad he wasn't mad at me."

"But my dad never gets mad," Ron replied not quite believing Sirius.

"Oh, it's not easy to make your dad angry, but during the war a couple of You-know-who's death eaters found out how. And then they learned why hurting people your dad cared about is a bad idea. That's why I was worried when you're dad caught me with my enchanted motorbike. He took that job with the ministry so he could protect muggles from the types of witches and wizards we fought during the war. But in the end we ended up taking it apart and talking about his family and how I enchanted my bike to fly. Then he made me put a muggle repelling charm and an invisibility booster on it."

"You're the one that showed my dad how to make a car fly?" Ron asked surprised.

While Sirius was getting to know Harry's friends Harry had already finished changing into his bright red quidditch robes and was waiting with the rest of the team to head out onto the pitch. Harry didn't think he'd been this nervous since his first battle. He reminded himself that no one was going to die today it was just a game. But he wasn't worried about dieing; he was worried about letting everyone down. This was the first time he'd put his new skills to the test. He'd come a long way since the six-year-old boy that had been asked to fight to help save the world. But now matter what he did, he felt as nervous as he did back then.

"Okay, men," Wood's voice brought Harry out of his reverie.

"And women," Angelina Johnson, one of their chasers added indignantly.

"And women," Wood nodded. "This is it."

"The big one," Fred said.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George continued.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," Wood, but didn't sound too upset at their ribbing. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." But the effect of his inspiring statements was ruined by the glare he gave everyone, daring them to prove him wrong. Then suddenly it was gone.

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you." And with that Wood walked out onto the pitch with his broom carried over his shoulder.

Harry followed Fred and George onto the field toward the center where Madam Hooch stood holding her broom. She would be the referee for this match. Harry tried to ignore the tumultuous cheering as he walked.

"Now I want a nice fair game," Madam Hooch said as soon as they were all gathered around her. But she seemed to be looking at the Slytherin team captain, Marcus Flint. He was big, even for a sixth year. Where Crabbe and Goyle looked like gorillas, Flint somehow resembled the troll he'd faced in the girl's bathroom. A brute that liked to cheat and throw his considerable weight around, that was more along the lines of what Harry was used to.

Harry smirked at Flint, but a flashing banner caught his eye. Underneath it he saw Hagrid and Sirius next to Ron and Hermione and his smile grew even bigger. He winked at them, and then when Madam Hooch blew his whistle he hovered slowly into the air when everyone kicked off. Then he leaned back bringing the nose of his broom to point up he shot forward at maximum speed straight through the middle of the Slytherin team.

Fred and George's friend Lee Jordan began the commentary. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor who flies straight through the gap Potter's insane flying just made in the Slytherin formation…what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too…"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall sat right next to him to keep him in line.

"Sorry, Professor…And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve…back to Johnson and score! The Slytherins didn't know what hit them that time."

The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers while the Slytherins just moaned.

Harry got to the top of his climb well ahead of the Slytherin seeker, Terence Higgs. As soon as he was at his desired altitude he zipped across the field looking down for any sign of the snitch. The move seemed to confuse Higgs, who just stopped to watch for a moment before he started to circle the pitch at a more sedate pace.

Harry alternated between zipping back and forth across the filed to lazily circling it like his Slytherin counterpart was doing. He kept his eyes open, unblinking the entire time just like Piccolo had taught him so long ago.

Wood's game plan called for Harry to stay up out of the way looking for the snitch, which would hopefully keep him from being a target for bludgers or fouls. Harry wasn't worried. He'd offered to fly in the thick of it to take some of the pressure off the chasers, but Wood wouldn't hear of it. And Harry had pushed his luck trying to convince Wood that he would still be able to spot the snitch when he was flying at high speeds. He'd had to demonstrate three times before Wood relented and let him search for the snitch his own way.

So here Harry was floating high above the action, bored. He'd flown a couple of huge high-speed loop-the-loops and a corkscrew to show his support when the team scored and to give him some new angles to search from. So far though wherever the snitch was hiding, it was doing a good job of avoiding him. He'd caught a glimpse of gold once, but it had turned out to be the reflection from George's watch. And later a bludgers came barreling at him, but he'd avoided it easily and Fred came up chasing it asking if Harry was alright before belting the bludgers back toward Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan called out, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the…wait a moment…was that the Snitch?"

Harry had seen it too. The flash of gold had almost hit Pucey in the face, which was probably why he dropped the Quaffle. Higgs had seen it too, but it didn't matter. Due to Harry's broom's superior speed and Harry's absolute lack of fear Harry was quickly leaving the Slytherin seeker behind.

The game seemed to stop for everyone else. The seekers didn't even dive to catch the Quaffle as they watched Harry weave through them so fast that he had to throw himself all over his broom to avoid them. Some would later say that it had been a life changing experience seeing Harry having to forcefully over-steer his broom just to keep from hitting them at the speed he was going.

Harry had narrowed his concentration down to just the snitch as he avoided the last player between him and it. He was almost on top of it when something hit him. He didn't see what he'd hit until leaned back to try and reach the snitch as he'd passed it. Flint had been sent of spinning out of control. Harry felt the flapping of the snitches wings against his finger for a moment as he shot past it, but he had been knocked too far off course and it was just barely out of his reach.

Looking forward Harry pulled the top of his broom up and kicked the bottom down to reverse himself, but by the time he was facing back the snitch was gone.

The crowd let out a collective gasp and all but went silent. Even Lee Jordan just sat with his mouth open. Everyone seemed to be shocked silent except for Hermione who was yelling: "FMA you moron!"

"What?" Ron, Hagrid and Sirius asked together.

"It means that the Force of impact will be equal to how massive, or heavy the object or person is times how fast their moving." Dean, who, like Hermione had a muggle education explained.

"So if Flint was three times bigger than Harry," Hermione continued the explanation, "it wouldn't matter because Harry was going ten times as fast."

"So Flint was lucky Harry didn't fly through him like he was made of tissue paper at the speed he was going." Dean smirked.

Ron was slightly dizzy not from the explanation but from looking back and forth between Dean and Hermione, who sat on either side of him.

Flint had complained to Madam Hooch claiming Harry had magicked him to knock him out of the way. But by the time everyone on Hermione's row had finished listening to the explanation Hooch had told Flint an even more dumbed down version of the same thing and awarded Gryffindor a penalty shot for Flint's fouling Harry.

Lee Jordan was ecstatic about the turn of events. "So, maybe that will teach him to think twice before he cheats next time!"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul backfired…"

"Jordan, I'm warning you…"

"All right, all right…Flint nearly got killed when he flew in front of 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, Gryffindor still in possession."

Harry lazily ducked his head to avoid a bludgers when his broom suddenly lurched. He'd been flying it for nearly two months and it had never done something like that. It was only a prototype, but it shouldn't be moving like that on its own, should it?

The broom lurched again and again. It seemed to be trying to buck him off. That was when Harry knew that it wasn't the broom. The motions were too regular and too calculated to throw him off to be accidental. He tried to turn around and get Wood to call a time out when he found out that he had no control of the broom. It started zigzagging through the air and randomly swishing side to side to throw him off. Harry tried to manhandle the broom, thinking that if someone had somehow taken over steering the broom he could physically throw it in the direction he wanted. But it didn't work whatever had the broom had it in a vice like grip I the air. Harry couldn't budge it.

Due to the crazy stunt flying Harry had been doing the whole game it took everyone a moment to realize that Harry wasn't showing off his flying skills, but had lost control of his broom. Flint had just scored another point for Slytherin when everyone in the stands was suddenly pointing at Harry in shock. His broom was spinning and then gave a massive jerk to throw him off.

Harry was hanging on with one hand. It looked considerably scarier to everyone else than it did for Harry, who was lazily gripping the handle knowing that take a lot more than that to break his grip.

Down in the stands Sirius wasn't so calm. "That git told me that broom worked just as good as a production model. It was supposed to just be too fast!"

"Then sommat must ah interfered with it," Hagrid replied, looking worriedly through his binoculars.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"No," Sirius replied. "It would take a lot more than a jolt to interfere with a fully functional broom. It would take powerful magic."

"And dark magic that," Hagrid added lowering his binoculars.

Hermione grabbed them and immediately started searching the crowd. "What are you doing?" Ron asked nervously.

His bushy haired friend didn't answer immediately. "I knew it," she growled. "Look at Snape," she commanded, thrusting the binoculars in Ron's face.

When everything came into focus Ron could see Snape sitting straight across from them. He was staring at Harry and his lips were moving nonstop.

"He's jinxing the broom," Hermione said.

"What should we do?" Ron was ashen.

"Leave it to me." Hermione said and immediately disappeared from view.

Not sure what he could do, Ron took the binoculars and pointed them at Harry. His broom was shaking rapidly and Harry was hanging from it upside down. Ron's brothers had tried to fly up to Harry to get him of the wild broom, but every time they did the broom went higher until they gave up and started circling below him, apparently to catch him if he fell. In the confusion Flint grabbed the Quaffle and scored five more times before anyone noticed what he was doing and stopped him.

Hermione ran as fast as she could through the stands heedless of anyone else. She didn't even apologize to Professor Quirell when she knocked him over onto the row in front of him, nearly on top of Snape. She drew her wand and began to mutter a few choice words when she looked up and saw that she was too late. Harry was plummeting head first toward the ground!

Fred and George were circling below Harry trying to be there to catch him if he fell. But they'd never expected Harry to scrunch up on his broom, plant his feet and actually leap off. He jumped so far to the side that neither of them could catch him. The broom gave a few more jerks before it started to fall straight down.

They dived right after him but they were tool late. They could tell Harry was going to hit the ground before they got to him. Fred managed to catch Harry's broom.

Harry's body rolled when he hit the ground. And to everyone's surprise after a couple of yards he pushed himself onto his feet and continued to skid to a stop; his feet digging a deep furrow into the ground. His quidditch robes were now grass stained green and covered in dirt, but Harry looked fine.

Smiling to the silent crowd Harry waved his right hand over his head, the hand that held the snitch! "Harry Potter managed to catch the snitch on the way down!" Lee Jordan yelled

"Gryffindor wins!" Finally the crowd got over its shock and erupted in cheers. "180 to 60," Jordan called out.

The crowd was hysterical, and when the stopped cheering Harry was all they could talk about. He started the game with a move they'd never seen before that directly let to Gryffindor scoring and he'd ended it with something even more spectacular. But Harry didn't hear any of it, because before even the team had come to their senses Sirius had dragged Harry to the hospital wing.

Harry tried to argue but Sirius wouldn't budge and then Hagrid, Hermione and Ron had shown up and sided with Sirius. So he was trapped in the Hospital wing until Flint distracted the matron, Madam Pomphry enough for him to escape. Apparently Flint had been more hurt when Harry ran into him than he let on. He'd glared at Harry when he came in and Harry just smirked back at him. He arrived after Sirius left, because he'd spent the last twenty minutes arguing with whoever would listen that Harry hadn't been on his broom when he caught the snitch, so it shouldn't count and that he must have cheated and used magic to keep from dieing in that fall.

Harry walked back toward Hagrid's hut to meet with Ron & Hermione who Hagrid had offered tea while they waited for Harry to get out. That had let Harry spend some time getting to know Sirius and to ask about secret passages out of the castle. Sirius had known about seven, but was sure that Filch knew some of them.

Sirius had then wanted to know what mischief he had gotten in to. He wasn't sure what he wanted but told him a mostly unedited version of what had happened with the troll. He still had Ron knocking the troll out in the end. Sirius had been impressed and regaled him with a couple tales of daring pranks that he and his dad and a couple of other friends had done. It was obvious that for some reason Sirius was on the outs with this Wormtail person. And as a parting gift when he left Harry in the hospital wing, though he had at least tried to argue Madam Pomfrey out of keeping him there over night, he'd told Harry about a map of the entire school that was probably still in Filch's office.

Harry walked in on an awkward moment when he got to Hagrid's hut. They'd quickly asked him why had taken him so long. So he told them about the magical bruise reducing poultice that Madam Pomfrey had placed all the way from his shoulders to his butt. He was glad Flint hadn't arrived while she was applying that.

Then he'd complained about how tyrannical Madam Pomfrey was trying to keep him overnight for a bruise. Hermione had wanted to argue that after Harry's fall he could have other injuries, but Hagrid had agreed with them and started talking about some of his minor injuries from tending animals and how Madam Pomfrey had dealt with them. It had been an interesting conversation. Harry learned a lot about what magical healing could do and he talked about some of the injuries he'd received when training.

Ron and Hermione didn't seem to enjoy the conversation as much. They had both gone white. Either they didn't agree with Hagrid and Harry on what constituted a minor injury or they were disturbed by the rate Harry had eaten the generally considered inedible rock cakes Hagrid had provided them.

It wasn't until dinnertime that they left Hagrids and Ron and Hermione told him about what had happened before he'd arrived. How they had seen Snape jinx Harry's broom and more importantly their clue Hagrid had let slip about what the three headed dog, named fluffy was guarding: Nicholas Flamel.

---

Harry was surprised when Hermione hadn't wanted to go to the library that night. Instead she'd just scheduled when they'd be able to search and planned how they could most effectively go about doing it.

The next day after dinner she had them searching the library for anything that might mention Nicholas Flamel. She sent Harry to look through books on recent achievements in magic and Ron to look through books on recent events. But they couldn't find anything, even after a couple of weeks of skimming through books whenever they had a free moment.

After two weeks, Harry was starting to get discouraged. If only wizards had something like computers and the Internet. He'd probably be able to find something about Nicholas Flamel that would at least tell him where to look. He was starting to think they were looking in the wrong place. And he was standing next to the rope barrier that separated him from the section he was suspicious had what he needed. After all, whatever they were looking for would have to be a powerful artifact if Snape wanted to steal it from Dumbledore. The more he thought about it the more he was sure that whatever they were looking for would be in the restricted section.

"What are you looking for boy?" Madam Pince the library's stern mistress asked Harry.

"I'm looking for a book on the various political systems and the major differences in the laws between the various magical governments." Harry decided to tell her about the most tame and obvious thing that he'd planned on looking up before the end of the year.

"You won't find that over here," Madam Pince said suspiciously.

Harry did his best to look abashed. "One of my professor's said something I was doing would cause magical exhaustion, so I'm looking for something to tell me what magical exhaustion is, what causes it, how to avoid it and really the nature of magical energy in the body, that kind of stuff."

"Did this professor tell you what book to look at?" Madam Pince asked suspiciously.

"Well I wanted to find out which book had the best information about it, especially the nature of what magical energy is and how it affects the body, normally and when depleted, before talking to Professor Flitwick about it."

In response Madam Pince just looked him up and down as if measuring him up and then walked away.

"We're supposed to be looking for Nicholas Flamel, not our own research projects." Hermione whispered angrily in Harry's ear.

"Yes, but I couldn't tell her than now could I?" Harry whispered back.

"Then why did you ask her for help?" Hermione hissed.

"She thought I was trying to sneak into the restricted section, I had to say something."

Before Hermione could reply Madam Pince started walking back toward them with a book in one hand and a piece of parchment in the other. "This book explains the formation of the International Confederation of Wizards and most of the magical governments and the biggest differences in their laws. For a more practical listing of legal differences you'll want to buy a tour guide at a book shop." Madam Pince handed Harry the piece of parchment she was carrying. "That book is the best description of how magical energies work in the body, but you'll have to have one of your professors sign for it if you want to read it."

Without another word or relinquishing the book in her arms the stern librarian turned around and began to walk away. Harry didn't know what to make of it until she turned around. "Are you going to check it out or not, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," Harry answered and left Hermione before she could continue to berate him.

Once he'd checked out the book he stood at the librarian's desk not sure what to do. "Was there anything else you needed, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"No," Harry shook his head, unable to think up an excuse to stay and continue his illicit search.

"Then you may go."

Recognizing the dismissal and not wanting to get caught by the stern librarian Harry left the Library. Hermione was going to be mad.

---

Harry had been right about Hermione. He'd spent the last two hours reading his new book about the founding of the various magical governments. He had intended to only skim through it and read it later, but he'd gotten too interested in it to take a nap like he'd planned. Then just at curfew Hermione came stomping in. Harry found Hermione's ability to leave the Library and arrive exactly at curfew mildly frightening.

"So we still couldn't find anything?" Harry asked when Hermione stomped up to the chair he was sitting in.

"No we didn't," Hermione huffed. "No thanks to you."

"Madam Pince was already suspicious when she found me by the restricted section, I couldn't stay or she might have caught us."

"So that's why you were skulking around there, you wanted an excuse to leave." Hermione pointed at him accusingly.

"No, that's not it at all, she just caught me while I was standing there thinking." Harry waved his hands in front of himself.

"Then why were you there in the first place?" Hermione's tone made it clear she didn't believe him.

"I was trying to think of other places we might be able to find Flamel."

"Oh, and you think it'll be in the restricted section do you?" Hermione seemed to think that was awfully convenient.

"Where else would you put information about a powerful magical object that people would be willing to try and steal from a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Well even if it is, we can't go in there, so we'll have to find it somewhere else." That seemed to be as close as Hermione was going to come to agreeing with him.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan," Harry smirked.

"One that'll get us into all sorts of trouble no doubt," Hermione muttered as she turned around and left. "Tell me about it in the morning," she called as she walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

"I think she's really mad at you mate," Ron spoke up for the first time.

"I know," Harry replied softly.

Harry spent the rest of the night reading his new library book until the common room was finally empty. He'd had to beg off playing chess with Ron, who had then convinced two upperclassmen to play with him. They lost just like everyone else.

Once Harry was sure no one would come down he closed his library book and made himself invisible. It was another talent he'd learned in the forests of Yonzabit Heights. It had worked fairly well against predators if they didn't spend the time trying to sniff him out, but Piccolo was always able to sense where he was.

Moving quickly and silently Harry left through the portrait hole and down the winding corridors and stairways toward the library. He smirked widely as he floated several feet over Mrs. Norris. The cat seemed to smell something, but never even bothered to look up.

Once in the library Harry glided over the ropes that cordoned off the restricted section and began to look around. He didn't have a lamp, so he created a small ball of energy above his hand to give him light. It didn't help much. The books all looked old and many of the ones that had titles were written in characters he couldn't recognize. Still others were cracked and falling apart with their lettering peeling or already peeled off. One of them even had what appeared to be a blood stain on it obscuring the title.

Not sure where to start Harry picked up a black one with silver letting and ignored the strange whispering sounds that seemed to be coming from the books themselves. It had to be his nerves, or so he thought. But when he opened the book he'd selected it let out a wailing scream.

Harry slammed the book shut immediately, but it didn't stop even when he put it back on the shelf. Sensing someone coming Harry doused his light and became invisible once again. He silently leapt over Filch's head to get out of the library and ran.

He didn't pay attention to where he ran as long as it took him away from Filch's energy. This had two unforeseen consequences. First, Harry was lost. And second, Harry had concentrated so hard on avoiding Filch that he had nearly plowed through Snape. Filch had been using his knowledge of the secret passages to good affect an in his brief flight it seemed that Filch was always just one step behind him. Now it seemed Harry knew why. Filch was looking for Snape. In retrospect Harry realized he'd made a rooky mistake. He hoped Mr. Piccolo didn't find out.

Unfortunately the ceilings weren't vaulted in this area of the castle so he couldn't just fly up to the ceiling and when Filch came panting out from behind a tapestry Harry had to move quickly before either of the two men bumped into him.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section." Harry heard Filch say as he vaulted back over Snape and took off down the hall to hide around a corner.

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them." Harry heard Snape's voice begin to move toward him. Desperately he looked for some place to hide and seeing an open door next to a solitary suit of armor Harry dove into the room as silently as he could before Snape and Filch could catch up to him.

Harry stood in the corner and waited for the voices to pass. Breathing easier once he could no longer hear their voices Harry finally took a good look at the room he'd chosen to hide in. It appeared to be an unused classroom with desks and chairs stacked up against one of the walls. He'd seen several rooms like this through out the castle, but what stood out about this room was what was standing propped up against the wall like some one had left it here to keep it out of the way. It was a beautiful full length mirror that reached nearly to the ceiling. It had a gold frame. And on the top of it was inscribed: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Harry couldn't see anything but the room's reflection in the mirror until he stood right in front of it. Then suddenly the mirror showed the room crowded with several people. Harry was about to jump away from where the mirror revealed his reflection when he suddenly recognized one of the people in the mirror. Whirling around Harry stared at the spot where his father had been standing, but no one was there. Just like Harry should have known there wasn't. He could recognize his dad's energy anywhere and it wasn't in this room, or even on this planet. Nor could Harry sense anyone else in the room.

He looked at the mirror to make sure he wasn't making a mistake and sure enough there was his dad wearing his red uniform smiling happily at Harry just like he had done when he was still alive. One of his dad's arms was resting on his mum's shoulder. She looked very pregnant, but Harry knew she wasn't here either. He could sense her. Her energy was very close to Gohan's on the other side of the world. But the mirror showed Gohan standing next to their mum. And behind them stood Harry's grandpa and Mr. Piccolo and Krillen and Yamcha and most of his dad's friends including Bulma holding baby trunks.

They were all standing behind Harry's own reflection on his right. On the other side he could see several people he didn't know. In the front was a woman with beautiful red hair and almost super-saiyan green eyes. If you didn't know better you could say they looked like his dad's and his brother's when they transformed, just like people always said about his. But Harry could see the slight differences, just like his eyes. This woman had his eyes and despite her smile she was crying.

The man next to her put his hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her and then at Harry. That was when Harry first noticed this man's face; or more significantly his own face. People always mentioned how much Harry looked like his dad and his brother and always seemed surprised if they mentioned he was adopted. But this man looked almost exactly like him. He had the same hair and face, except his eyes were dark and he was a little lankier than Harry was. Could he be his birth father: And was the woman his birth mother? They had to be.

And they weren't alone. Sirius and another man who seemed to be prematurely graying stood with them. And behind them there was another man with grey hair that stood up in every which way like a saiyan's or like his and his biological dad's. And next to that man stood a woman with graying red hair. These must have been his birth father's parents; Sirius had teased him about red heads, because both his birth father and his father married red headed women. And behind his birth mother was another couple that must be her parents, his grandparents.

Harry's heart ached, filled half with joy and half terrible sorrow. He didn't know how long he stood memorizing not just the faces of his lost family but how they moved and silently interacted, but he suddenly realized he was ignoring half of the people in the mirror. When he looked over at his current family they smiled and waved at him as if they were unaware of his previous neglect.

Unbidden memories of his family and all of the things they'd done for him and all the fun and happy moments they'd shared filled his mind. Harry felt guilty. His father had died so he could live and here he was forgetting about him and his family, but the more he looked at the mirror, the more he realized that he didn't want to part with either of them. Was he greedy for wanting all of them to love him?

He didn't know how long he stayed after that, but it was nearing morning when noises in the castle prompted Harry to escape back to Gryffindor tower and his bed.

Without much sleep that night, Harry was tired all day the next day. Hermione accused him of faking it to get out of searching for Nicholas Flamel until he told her that he'd snuck into the restricted section.

"Did you find anything?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"No," Harry struggled with whether or not to admit what he'd really been doing all night. "The first book I looked at screamed when I opened it. I had to run away from Filch and hide in an unused classroom."

"But why did that take you so long?" Hermione asked. "It's not like they'd have stayed right outside the door."

"It's what I found in there," Harry said excitedly. "There was this mirror…and when I looked at it I could see my family."

"How will that help us find Nicolas Flamel?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

Harry made a brief sound and bowed his head embarrassedly. "I've never seen my birth parents before."

Hermione was about to retort but suddenly stopped herself suddenly. "Oh, Harry," Hermione suddenly seemed like she wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure if it was ok.

"Would you like to see?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked conflicted for a moment before she decided that she would. If anyone noticed them, they would have noticed a strange sight when Hermione walked past the Library doors without going in. It took some time to retrace his steps. And a couple of times Ron looked like he was about to complain, before Hermione poked him and shook her head. Then finally just as Hermione was about to ask if Harry was sure he could find it again, Harry found the corridor with the solitary suit of armor.

But when Harry stood in front of it neither of his friends could see anything more than a normal reflection and when they stood in front of it they did not see their families. Ron saw himself as head boy and captain of the Quidditch team, who had apparently won, because he was holding the quidditch cup. Hermione saw herself receiving an award called an Order of Merlin from Dumbledore for having discovered some new element of magic.

They jockeyed for positions in front of the mirror for several minutes before they started postulating what the mirror's function was. Though, Ron and Hermione did most of the theorizing while Harry became drawn toward the mirror again. But he was drawn away from his reverie when Hermione began to loudly pronounce her idiocy for not solving something so obvious. Ron and Harry had to remind her to reveal the secret to the mere mortals in the room.

The answer was the inscription on the mirror. When read backwards like in a mirror and the spaces were rearranged it read: I show not your face, but you're hearts desire. They each tried to concentrate on desiring to see what Nicholas Flamel created or what was hidden in the castle, but nothing changed for any of them. Eventually they gave up and went back to Gryffindor tower resigned to keep looking for whatever Flamel had created in the library, like before.

Ron and Hermione didn't ever show any interest in going back to look at the Mirror. Hermione said it was enough to see her goal and now she needed to work for it. Ron however warned Harry away from going back to it, saying he had a bad feeling about it. And in a landmark decision Hermione agreed.

But Harry didn't stay away. The next night he went to the restricted section and this time the first book he grabbed didn't make a peep, but after several books he found another one that was alarmed. When he fled the library he found his feet taking him down a fast becoming familiar set of hallways toward the enchanted mirror.

He stayed there the rest of the night and then the next night after he'd picked up a book with what Harry was suspecting was an alarm. Night after night he would visit the mirror after being forced to flee the library until he stopped even going to the library.

It didn't take long for Ron and Hermione to see the toll it was taking on Harry. He was constantly tired and didn't seem interested in anything, his grades suffered and he hardly ate, at least by his standard. At first they thought it was his lack of sleep and they forced him to sleep while they were in the library. But when he began to be less tired, but didn't seem get any better they began to suspect he was visiting the mirror.

They confronted him with it, but he wouldn't stop his nightly torture, agonizing over his feelings for his adoptive and birth parents. Nothing they could do would get him out of his funk. Not even when it started to snow and they invited him to several snowball fights. He didn't even smile when Fred and George enchanted several snowballs to chase professor Quirrell.

There were only a few days left in the new term and most of the students were thinking about Christmas and their vacation but it didn't appear that Harry even realized that either was coming up. Harry was once again sitting in front of the mirror when he realized that he was not alone.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on one of the desks against the wall. "So, back again Harry?" The headmaster didn't look upset that Harry was up when he should have been in bed.

"So, you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that?" Harry replied nervously waiting for the anticipated punishment.

"But I expect by now you realize what it does?"

"Well it says it shows us our heart's desire," Harry pointed at the inscription above the mirror. "But no matter what we want, we always see the same thing."

"That is because it shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts."

"Hermione Granger, who has never felt that she was respected by her peers, sees herself the object of wide acclaim. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. You, who have never known your biological family, see them standing around you along with you're current family I understand."

"Yes," Harry replied uneasily.

"And this troubles you?"

"Yes," Harry replied and when the headmaster didn't respond he continued. "The more I look at it the more I want to know about my biological family, but I love my adopted family and I could never give my family up. But I want to know about my birth family, but it feels like I'm betraying them…Am I greedy for wanting both of them to love me?"

"Harry," Dumbledore smiled in a grandfatherly type of way. "One is never greedy who offers to truly love those who love him in return."

"But what about my real family? I love them and they've done so much for me…"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "One of the most wonderful things about love is that loving one person does not diminish our ability to love another. And because of that it is no betrayal to your adoptive family to learn about and to love those that gave you life. You do not need to choose between them, you can love them both. And I dare say that if you would like to know more about your birth parents, you could write to your godfather Sirius Black. I'm sure he'd love to hear from you and would be happy to regale you with tales about your parents that would curl your hair."

Harry chuckled slightly. He had heard about some of his dad's adventures with Sirius. "Thank you sir," Harry replied quietly.

"However, Harry this mirror can be dangerous," Dumbledore still spoke kindly. "It will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. That is why I must ask you not to come visit it any more. The Mirror will be moved to a new home when you return from Christmas break, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now do be careful, it would not do to be caught by Mr. Filch on your way back to bed."

"Yes sir," Harry replied as he stood up. "But sir…Professor Dumbledore…can I ask you something.

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore's smile turned into a mischievous smirk. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I…I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry's head jerked.

"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore said. "Another Christmas is coming and I likely will not get a single pair. People will undoubtedly insist on giving me books."

Harry left after that and moved quickly through the halls. He was glad he hadn't used his invisibility when he hadn't had to in the halls. Otherwise Dumbledore might have found out. He was so relieved that he didn't realize that what he'd asked Dumbledore had been very personal and he had probably not been serious with the answer.

---

Harry took Dumbledore's advice to heart, but unfortunately it still didn't take away the pain in his heart or his dreams, which now featured his birth parents being killed in flashes of green light while someone laughed maniacally.

The fact that Harry was weeks behind everyone else in preparing for midterm exams was a blessing in disguise. Harry had to spend nearly all of his free time studying to make sure he was ready, which was a very high standard to live up to if you had Hermione Granger as a study partner. But it kept him from thinking about his family situation.

Harry didn't go back to the Mirror. He was sure Dumbledore would know if he did and he didn't want to risk revealing his ability to turn invisible if he got caught. Besides Dumbledore was right if he wanted to know more about his birth parents his godfather was the best choice.

Writing to Sirius was one of the few things Harry would do when he did have a moment free from studying. He decided that with all the stories his godfather had told him about his birth father's adventures breaking the rules at school that he could tell him about the mirror. Working out his thoughts and putting them on paper had helped a lot as had talking to Sirius. But what had helped the most was what he was most scared of: going home.

Being home with his brother and helping around the house for his mother who was about to have his baby brother helped Harry realize that Dumbledore was right. No matter how much he learned to love his birth parents, he still loved his family; all of his family.

After a wonderful Christmas vacation Harry met Hermione at King Cross Station. There was no bully this time, unless you count Sirius when he tried to jump out and scare them. He gave Harry his Christmas gift, a copy of the book on jinxes and hexes he'd been looking at in Flourish & Blotts the day they met. He apologized, not realizing Harry would be going home for Christmas he hadn't given his gift to him before he left like Hagrid, who had given him a hand carved flute and all of his friends had done.

The train ride was mostly uneventful. Harry and Hermione shared a compartment and mostly read. Though, Hermione seemed to disapprove of Harry's choice of reading material, his gift from Sirius. Eventually Harry tried to explain that the curses were mostly kid's stuff that were mostly good for pranks and he just wanted to practice them to get ready for more advanced spells. For some reason, that didn't help his cause much.

They were talking about their parents and their vacation, Hermione was especially interested in Harry's mum and the baby she was carrying, when Malfoy and his two thugs, Crabbe and Goyle barged into their compartment. In retrospect Harry thought he should have expected it, it would probably be a tradition every train trip.

"Ah, Potter," Malfoy had said as soon as he'd opened the door. "Practicing you're stories on the know-it-all before you try to lie to the rest of us about the family you paid to take you in over the holidays?"

"Oh, Draco," Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and began to thumb through is new book. "I've been looking for someone to try some of these new curses I've read about on."

Malfoy recoiled and grabbed for his wand. "Practice on the book worm Potter."

"But I might need her help if something goes wrong," Harry replied instantly. "Don't worry if I do this right it will only hurt for a moment, I think…"

Malfoy raised his wand in front of himself nervously, but Harry didn't seem to notice. Harry was looking straight at the book and practicing a vicious looking wand movement, which seemed to make Malfoy nervous. Then Harry performed the wand motion one more time and muttered, "Castrado detonay."

When Harry looked up, apparently finally ready to test the curse, Hermione was looking at him wide eyed while Malfoy and his thugs were pushing past each other to get out of the compartment.

"You said that book only had harmless jinxes in it," Hermione accused. "What would that spell have done to him?"

"I don't know," Harry answered, "I made it up."

Hermione stared at him slack jawed before she covered her mouth to try and hide her laughter. It was a useless gesture. And soon she was rolling on her seat with her arms wrapped around her sides laughing.

The rest of the ride passed on in mostly silence with the two of them reading their books, punctuated randomly by Hermione breaking out into minor fits of giggles. It was a side of his friend that Harry had never seen before. He did his best to see more. Every time she started to laugh he'd ask if he had something on his face, clothes or in his teeth or had he missed a button or left his fly down. Harry didn't think she'd ever laughed so much as she did on that train ride.

However when they met Ron, Harry didn't have time to ask him about his holiday or regale him with the tale of what he'd done to Malfoy, because Hermione immediately started grilling Ron about what he'd found out about Nicholas Flamel while they were gone.

"Well I don't suppose you even looked did you?" Hermione asked scathingly when Ron admitted that he hadn't found anything.

Ron was looking at his shoes abashedly and Hermione was taking a deep breath to begin her tirade when Harry decided to interrupt them. "It doesn't matter Hermione."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Hermione turned on Harry. "Snape's already let a troll loose in a school full of children. We're all in danger until someone puts a stop to it."

"Because I found him," Harry smirked at her.

"What?—How? You didn't have access to a magical library while you were away?" Hermione was bouncing excitedly now.

"Nope, but I had access to chocolate frogs."

Hermione looked confused for a moment before Ron piped in. "You mean Nicolas Flamel has his own chocolate frog card? Then why don't I remember it?"

"Well I don't know if he has his own card," Harry answered. "But he's on Dumbledore's. I gave my brother a bunch of wizard sweets for Christmas and I saw it when I was explaining the cards in the chocolate frogs."

"But what does it say about him?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Look at this," Harry pulled a card out of his pocket and started reading. "Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel."

"But that doesn't tell us what Flamel made." Ron pointed out

"But it does tell us where to look," Harry replied.

Ron didn't look very convinced and Hermione wanted to head straight to the library. But Ron and Harry insisted on going to dinner, they were already late. So it wasn't until later than night that they found Nicholas Flamel's name in several books about alchemy. And they all said the same thing. Nicholas Flamel was the only known creator of the sorcerers' stone. The book that Hermione found stated it best. 'The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerers' Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

There have been many reports of the Sorcerers' Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).' The book was only a couple of years old.

"So that's why Snape is after it. He could be rich and live forever," Ron whispered excitedly.

"Flamel must have known someone was after it so he asked Dumbledore to guard it," Hermione said.

"I don't know," Harry grabbed his chin thoughtfully. "Snape doesn't strike me as the type to be looking for immortality or money. He'd want power before he went against Dumbledore."

"Maybe he figures that if he was immortal Dumbledore couldn't hurt him," Hermione suggested.

"Or if he had all that gold he could bribe enough of politicians to get rid of Dumbledore." Ron added.

Harry wasn't sure if he was convinced. But he had to admit Snape was the type to be up to no good. He didn't dwell on it much that night, because of a different mystery. He found a brown package on his bed with a note on it that read:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

Harry didn't know what it was, but Ron recognized it and fortunately had the sense to keep their dorm-mates from seeing it. It was an invisibility cloak. Despite being able to turn himself invisible without it Harry treasured it. The cloak was the only thing he had that had once belonged to his birth father. But no that they had already figured out about Nicholas Flamel, Harry didn't know what he'd use it for. Despite that he crept out that night under the cloak and explored some more of the school trying to experience a little of what his father must have felt when he was a boy at school here.

The cloaks distraction didn't take Harry's mind off of Snape for long. The weeks of vacation hadn't mellowed him out. If anything they had seemed to make him more determined to break into Harry's mind. After what he did at the quidditch match and four months of fighting him in that class, Harry no longer had any doubts that it was him doing it.

Now that they knew what Fluffy was guarding they'd found that didn't put them any closer to being able to stop the thief or thieves that were after it. But fortunately the no longer had to spend every free moment looking in the Library, because now that the next match was coming up Wood was scheduling extra practices nearly every night, leaving Harry with little free time at all.

It seemed that now that Wood had a taste of victory he wanted more. If Harry had to guess the only nights they didn't have quidditch practice were the nights that Wood couldn't get permission to use the pitch. Even the deluge of rain that replaced the snow didn't dampen his spirits. As he kept reminding them, if they could beat Hufflepuff they'd be able to overtake Slytherin in the inter-house championship.

But during one of the muddiest practices so far Wood gave them some of the worst news he could have ever given them. Harry, who had been horse-playing in the air with Fred and George, fell of his broom and had to remind himself not to stop his fall into the mud. George nearly landed on Harry when he fell off too.

Later that night, after thoroughly cleaning himself up, Harry found his friends in the Gryffindor common room playing chess. Though when wizards and witches played they didn't pick up and move the pieces, they gave them orders and the animated pieces moved themselves and pummeled each other. It was probably the only thing Hermione ever lost at, at least when she played Ron, so far no one in Gryffindor tower had beaten him. Harry thought that it was good for both of them.

When Harry sat down next to Ron and looked at the board he could see he'd arrived just as the inevitable was happening. And three moves later Ron had beaten Hermione.

"What's the matter Harry?" Hermione asked when she finally looked up from the board. "You look like there's about to be a test."

"Yah, mate you look grim," Ron said, "Like you're about to have to go to potions class."

Harry chuckled, only Hermione would look at his face and immediately think of a test. He was worried about something, but it he saw it as more of a fight than anything else. Though, Ron was close. "Snape's going to be refereeing our next game."

His friends' response was immediate. "Don't play," Hermione gasped out.

"Say you're ill," Ron suggested.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione entreated.

"Really break your leg," Ron said.

"I can't," Harry interrupted them before their suggestions got to something really painful. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out Gryffindor has to forfeit. Besides I refuse to lose to Snape."

"But he'll try to kill you," Ron's voice drowned out Hermione's. Before anyone could reply they were interrupted by the sound of laughing coming from all over the common room.

When they turned around they saw the entire common room laughing at Neville, who had apparently just gotten through the portrait hole and was hopping toward them, apparently because his legs were stuck together with what Harry recognized from the book Sirius gave him as the Leg-Locker Curse.

"Oh, Neville," Hermione said, immediately jumping out of her seat to help him. But Harry was faster with his wand and muttering the counter curse sent a blue ball of light that released Neville's legs once it struck him. Unfortunately this caused Neville to loose his balance and fall on the floor.

"What happened?" Hermione asked in her most soothing voice.

"Malfoy," Neville spat the name. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

Harry was impressed. It showed real determination to bunny hop the entire way across the castle from the library to their tower.

"Tell Professor McGonagall–Report him." Hermione urged him.

But Neville just muttered, "I don't want any more trouble."

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron said emotionally. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

Harry was about to add his own plea, but Neville answered before he could say anything. "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out, nearly sobbing.

"Don't listen to that weakling coward," Harry yelled as he reached into his pocket for the last of the chocolate frogs that Hermione had given him for Christmas. "I bet if he'd been left like that he'd have just lain there and whined until someone helped him. That makes you twice the man he is. And you've easily got five or six times as much magical power as he does, so I figure that makes you worth twelve of him."

The corner of Neville's mouth quirked weakly as he opened the chocolate frog's wrapper. "Thanks Harry," Neville said weekly before he bit into the frog.

"Just remember that in my books you rate more than 12 times what Malfoy does." Harry patted the depressed boy on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Neville replied again. "Do you want the card? I know you collect them."

"Who is it?" Harry asked.

Neville looked, "Dumbledore."

Harry grinned knowingly. "That's an important card, you keep it."

"That was a nice thing to say," Hermione said quietly as Neville climbed up the stairs to the boy's dormitories and the three of them sat back down.

"Can you really tell how much magic a person has?" Ron asked excitedly.

"Of course not Ron," Hermione answered for Harry.

"Actually I can," Harry responded. "Sensing people's energies is a part of my family's style of martial arts. It took me a while to get used to magical energy, especially with all of the energy that radiates from the school."

"But you either have magic or you don't." Hermione explained. "If everyone had different levels than some of the students would run out of energy or get tired in class."

"Well from what I can tell the simple spells we learn in first year are weak enough that everyone they let in can do them, and you get stronger the more you use your magic and as you grow.

"Yeah, why do you think they wait until you're eleven years old before you can get into Hogwarts? It's so you've got enough magic to do the spells. And they don't take everybody. There are some people that have barely got more magic than a squib. They usually have to take special courses and practice really hard just to be able to do some of the most basic magic."

Hermione shook her head as if to clear it from distraction before she spoke up. "That's not what we need to be talking about. We need to talk about why Harry can't play in the next game with Snape trying to kill him."

"Don't worry, Hermione you're almost as strong as Neville," Harry told her.

"That's not the point, what if Snape jinxes you're broom again?" Hermione sounded exasperated, but Harry could tell that she looked relieved.

"What if he does," Harry replied. "It didn't work that well for him last time. And this time he'll be where I can fight back."

"But you can't just attack a teacher," Hermione said indignantly.

"Or the Ref." Ron added.

"Yes, but he can't just attack me either," Harry replied

"That didn't stop him last time," Ron raised his voice.

"Yes, but don't you see, he's leveled the playing field," Harry smirked. "This time everyone will be watching him, especially because they'll think he's going to favor Hufflepuff so we don't pass Slytherin in the house cup. He'll have to be really subtle if he doesn't want to get caught, but now he'll be out where I can fight back as long as I'm just as sneaky about it."

"But he's a fully qualified wizard," Hermione almost screeched. "He's got years of experience of magic over you."

"Then he shouldn't have given me warning so far ahead. Now I'll have weeks to plan out ways to fight back."

And plan and practice he did. Not only had potions classes had gotten worse with Snape being his meanest and no less than two mental attacks a class, but Snape also seemed to be following him around the castle, so trying to catch him off guard to read his mind in the halls. Harry wondered if he'd figured out that they knew about the stone, but more importantly he realized that the most dangerous thing that Snape could do would be to attack his mind while he was flying. So Harry made sure to spend his time practicing his meditation and focusing on the most painful moment in his life, when Napa had killed him, so he could get Snape out of his head as soon as possible. He even used a tunnel behind a mirror on the fourth floor that Sirius had told him about to get to a large clearing surrounded by trees near the neighboring village, Hogsmeade to practice flying without falling while focusing on his painful memory. Harry planned to use it to train in. And it was a good thing he'd found it, because he'd caught Snape and Filch suspiciously close to the area he now called the Gryffindor armory where he had been training.

On a more pleasant note, at least as far as Harry was concerned, someone had ambushed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in an out of the way corridor with their legs locked together like Neville had been. Apparently they had just sat there for over an hour until a passing teacher had found them.

The day of the match Harry ate much better than he had the first time. He knew he'd need all of his energy if he was going to have to deal with Snape. And when his friends escorted him to the locker rooms and wished him luck that they were worried. He'd caught Ron and Hermione practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. So Harry had told them that what he needed would distract Snape so he couldn't concentrate on flying and whatever else he was doing. Hermione had decided on a nasty itching hex while Ron had secretly practiced on a hex he said would do the job.

Harry just shook his head as his friends walked toward the stands fingering their wands. Harry wasn't worried for his life. If it came down to it Harry was pretty sure he could get away from trouble if he had to. But to tell the truth with all the danger, excitement and violence he was really starting to like this game, quidditch.

He got into his quidditch robes and put on his game face, psyching himself up for the upcoming match. Wood looked like he wanted to take Harry aside, but stopped when he saw the look on Harry's face. He'd already told Harry during every practice that he needed to find the snitch as soon as possible this game to prevent Snape from being able to favor Hufflepuff too much. Harry was reviewing his strategies including various ways he could knock Snape off his broom and make it look like an accident as well as some ways he could surreptitiously use his skill at levitation.

"The whole school's out there!" Fred Weasley's head was sticking out the door "Even—blimey—Dumbledore's come to watch!" he exclaimed.

Harry smirked. If anyone could detect magical foul play it would be Dumbledore. He'd probably didn't dare use any of his magic, but Snape was going to have a rough time of it if he even dared to try anything. But if it was just his flying skills, Harry felt that the deck was stacked in his favor.

Harry's smirk stayed plastered on his face until they were marching up toward Snape on the pitch. Snape had never looked so furious. If Harry had to guess, he'd say Snape didn't appreciate Dumbledore being there. Harry schooled his features and stared at Snape; doing his best impression of the grim expression he'd seen his father use when he stared down his enemies. Harry called it his game face. Fortunately Snape didn't have the audacity to say he wanted a clean game, Harry wouldn't have been able to hold in his laughter and it would have ruined the effect.

Snape didn't even blow a whistle. He just threw the quaffle up and barked, "Begin!" Just like the last game, Harry pulled his broom tip back and shot forward instead of rising horizontally and much more slowly like everyone else. But this time he didn't fly through the opposing team's formation, but instead he shot right by Snape. Not close enough to tempt him to try anything, but close enough that Snape would feel the wind left in his wake.

Harry looked into the stands as he rose above them just in time to see Malfoy poking Ron in the back of the head. Harry wondered if this was part of Snape's plan to distract him or if it was just Malfoy being a pest.

Today Harry didn't plan on slowing down much. As soon as he reached a respectable altitude Harry pulled back on his broom and flew across the pitch upside down, before he righted himself and flew back across a different way.

No one had ever seen a seeker constantly use such high speed maneuvers as Harry was doing. Harry had alternated between fast and slow the last game, but no one really knew what to make of that either. Harry had after jumped off his broom to catch the snitch.

It confused the Hufflepuff seeker, a stringy boy with spectacles in his seventh year. He didn't know whether to follow Harry or continue to circle looking for the snitch. He'd followed Harry the first time he'd shot down and across the pitch, but Harry had turned at the end of the pitch and shot back across while upside down along the ground with no sign of the snitch.

Harry's antics nearly got Snape cursed. The potions professor couldn't make heads or tales of Harry's behavior either and when Hermione saw him muttering curses to himself as his head snapped from side to side tracking Harry's every insane movement she almost cursed him.

If George Weasley would have known that the bludgers he hit toward Snape, nearly knocking the distracted potions master off his broom, had saved the man from suffering through a nasty itching hex while vomiting slugs, he very well might not have done it. However when the iron ball grazed Snape's shoulder despite his desperate last second dodge, and Harry continued to fly at top speed, Hermione decided that he must have been flying that way on purpose. The only change in Harry's flying when Snape lost his concentration was a victory roll and massive cork-screw across the sky in support of George's actions.

Less amused than Harry, Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty shot. Wood looked like he wanted to give a George a good yelling at, but was too busy blocking the penalty shot from one of the Hufflepuff chaser to do it. It was to be, Harry suspected the first of many Hufflepuff penalty shots.

And it quickly became apparent that Harry was right. Harry hadn't finished half a dozen circuits of the field before Snape had awarded another penalty shot to Hufflepuff. The same chaser was lining up for his shot when Harry launched himself into the air and lazily fell backward until he was freefalling in a dive. Pushing every ounce of speed he cold manage Harry dived right by Snape, so close his robes might have hit him and at the last possible moment he relaxed the throttle, swung his completely around and let loose with all the broom was worth until he stopped a foot off the ground with his broom standing straight up and his arm held high holding the snitch.

The crowd erupted in cheers and Lee Jordan announced Gryffindor's win while Snape looked confused for a minute. But he recovered after just a moment. And when he landed he looked furious.

Harry let himself drop to the ground and spun his broom around his arm, shoulder and neck before he began to strut toward the locker room. He didn't make it very far before all of Gryffindor had made it out of the stands and had lifted him up on their shoulders cheering. The crowd was so tight that Ron and Hermione couldn't get close to him. He saw Hermione jumping up and down at the edge of the crowd and Ron was cheering even though he'd somehow gotten a bloody nose. Gryffindor was now ahead in the house championship!

The locker room was empty by the time he got back to it. It had taken Harry a while to get away from the exuberant crowd. He could now see how that kind of thing could get addictive. It was intoxicating.

After changing and spending some time relaxing to regain his calm center Harry left the locker room to put his broom away in the broom shed. He'd put his broom away and was closing the shed's door when he felt a familiar energy approaching him.

Hiding behind the shed he saw a hooded figure moving quickly away from the castle apparently trying not to be seen. If Harry hadn't recognized the approaching figures posture and the stalking way he walked, he would have been able to recognize the angry feel of Severus Snape's living energy.

Keeping the shed between himself and the approaching figure, Harry made himself invisible and waited until Snape had entered the forest. Then he shot into the air and followed Snape's energy through the trees in the forbidden forest. Careful not to make a sound Harry moved slowly until he landed on a large branch in a tree overlooking a clearing where Snape had met another cloaked figure.

It was Quirrell judging by the way he stuttered. ... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

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

Quirrell started mumbling something too quiet for Harry to hear where he was. Harry was about to move closer when Snape interrupted.

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

"B-b-but Severus, I…"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Snape took another menacing step toward the cowering professor.

"I-I don't know what you…"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly in Harry's ear making him miss the first part of what Snape said, "…your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't…"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." Snape threw his hood back over his head and stalked away from the clearing leaving Quirrell terrified and still standing back up against a tree where he left him.

Deciding that he couldn't get caught after witnessing that exchange; Harry left the cowering professor and leapt into the air above the forbidden forest. He was still invisible, but it seemed that it was an unnecessary precaution. Neither of the professors had ever looked up.

When Harry got back into the castle he ran into Ron and Hermione in front of the great hall. But unfortunately he'd missed dinner.

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione asked reprovingly while Ron shouted excitedly about their victory.

"There's no time for that now…" Harry began, but Ron interrupted

"That's right," Ron agreed. "Everyone's waiting for you in the common room. We're having a party. Fred and George even stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"That's great, but…" Ron didn't let him continue this time either.

"And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle."

"Way to go Neville," Harry cheered. He was surprised and more than a little impressed.

"He's still out cold but, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right." Ron continued.

"That's great, but…" Harry began, but changed track when it looked like Ron had more to say. "Come on, let's go. I have something to tell you." Harry stalked off before Ron could interrupt.

His two friends followed Harry into a classroom in a deserted corridor. Harry closed his eyes and reached out with his senses before closing the door and explaining everything he heard. "It sounds like Snape really is going after the stone and he's trying to force Quirrell into helping him."

"There must be more than Fluffy guarding the stone." Hermione postulated. "If Snape asked about Quirrell's hocus-pocus, he must have done something to guard the stone too and Snape wants to know how to get past it."

"Great," Ron slapped his forehead. "If Quirrell is all that stands between Snape and the stone, it'll be gone by Tuesday."