Disclaimer: No, I don't own HP. I WISH :))

Chapter 1: MERLIN!

Harry woke up, eyes bloodshot and drenched in sweat. The sun had not risen yet, and luckily, none of the other Gryffindor awoke from his fits. His scar didn't hurt anymore, but his mind still wrought with all the visions that he had just witnessed and endured. He moved to sit at the edge of his bed, clutching his face in two hands as he relived watching his mother being taken away from him yet again. "Damn you Voldemort………mom…"

His tears could not be soothed. As they fell, not a sob passed from his lips. He was done sobbing. He couldn't stop the tears, but he could stop the child inside him from crying out. Remembering the contorted faces he saw in his sleep only strengthened this resolve. Today was the last day he considered himself a child. It was only a matter of time before his coming of age. In a little over half a year, he would be a man, and as his mother told him, he would face the most perilous of his foes. He would face the dark one. As he clenched his fists, his eyes closed, and his resolve was complete. He would do it. He had to. This age depended on it.

Thirty minutes had passed since Harry went into the bathroom. All that time, Harry faced the mirror near the sink. He left the water running. Not that he needed it, but because he liked the sound of the rhythm of the flow. It relaxed him. He was breathing deeply, and his eyes never left the reflection before him. So much steam had risen up that the face before him was no longer his own, but a withered copy. His glasses had fogged up to the point that one instant, under the light of the enchanted candles, he could have sworn he'd seen the face of his tormentor. He'd have blinked, but instinctively, his fist had collided with the mirror a second before he could have even tried. The crack was loud, and he kept it there, panting as the crystal shards fell into the overflowing heated soup before him, as well as some that hit his face from the force of impact. The resounding bang seemed to echo violently into the chilly evening air.

He couldn't think. It was as though his mind was lost in the encompassing emotions that flowed through him – anger, fear, hate, disdain, and most of all – longing and loneliness.

Sure enough, some of the Gryffindors came running in to check what happened.

"Blimey 'Arry! Have you gone bloody mad?! It's three in the morning, on SUNDAY. Could you keep it…HARRY!"

Ron rushed to his side, still in his pajamas, watching for jagged pieces as he walked to where his best friend was. Pulling Harry's fist from what was left of the mirror, his eyes grew in shock. Neville asked what was wrong. Ron then showed them Harry's fist – no cuts.

There was concern clear in Ron's voice when he said, "Harry, have you been taking some new muscle potion lately?" When Harry did not reply, he moved to take off his glasses. The Gryffindors let out a scream which echoed into the darkness…

Harry woke up in the Hospital wing. Why he woke up there, he didn't know. Be he knew exactly where he was, despite the fact that he wasn't in one of the sickbeds. He recognized the smell of Madam Pomfrey's brews anywhere. He presently sat on some leather seat, next to an orb the size of a baby's head, put over some sort of biker-helmet shaped headgear. Before he could get up though, Madam Pomfrey came running into the room.

"Harry, I see you're up."

To Harry, Madam Pomfrey was a patient woman…a patient woman who didn't really like it when kids just did stupid things that had them end up in the hospital wing. He still wondered at times, if she liked the job because she was helping kids, or if she enjoyed giving those foolish younglings a taste of their bitter-brew medicine. Sure, she was nice, but there were also times when she was plain scary. Harry immediately thought back to when he had to regrow his bones in his second year. At the time, his arm deflated as the bone faded away…no thanks to a certain smiling liar of an idiot no doubt…

"Good to see you Madam Pomfrey. Um…Why did I just wake up on this chair?"

"Goodness, you don't know? What do you remember last?"

"Waking up in my bed, then going into the bathroom for some peace and quiet."

"And nothing else?"

"Not that I remember, no."

"You bloody broke the mirror with your bleedin' – well, not bleeding I guess – fist Harry. You didn't even scratch your hand." Ron proceeded through the door.

His memories were murky. He remembered wanting to hit the mirror…did he do it he pondered. "I did what?!"

"Forget that, the damn wall behind it cracked like a walnut between a nut-cracker. You couldn't guess my relief hearing nothing happened to your hand."

"He's right dear. For some reason I'm still looking into, you threw a punch comparable in strength to a full-grown giant, but your bones are strong as ever."

What? That was supposed to make him feel better?

"Damn, Harry. You're scrawnier than I am, but when I tried to hit the wall with half of me, I sprained it."

Harry held his hand up to his eyes, and turned it over. There wasn't a single scratch.

"Care to try it again Harry?"

"Not on my watch Weasley." The cold hiss came from behind the half-open door. Severus Snape strolled in with all regality, slapping behind Ron's head before approaching Harry. "Destroying school property yet again are we Mr. Potter?"

Of all the people to meet him at his sickbed, it had to be this one. The potions master…Harry always thought to himself and chuckled – if he was so good at the damn art, why didn't he cook up a way to get better looks?

"With all due respect professor, I did not intend to, and I didn't even realize I was doing it!"

"That didn't sound as respectful as you claimed Potter. Aside from that, you endangered your fellow Gryffindor when the cracks grew and the stones began to give way. They were lucky I heard the sounds while I was nearby taking an early morning stroll of the castle grounds."

Harry sit dumbfounded by this realization. Remembering what his mom said, just by living, someone close to him would die. He shuddered at the thought that he nearly killed more than one. "I'll be sure the Headmaster hears of this Potter."

"There'll be no need for that Severus. I heard the bang from my room. Well done Harry, you awoke everyone in the castle for an early breakfast. For once, all the houses shall start the day together."

Thank Merlin for Albus Dumbledore. The twinkle in his eye made Harry feel safe…well, most of the time.

"Well done, sir? I do believe Potter nearly killed his roommates, and all you can tell him is well done?"

"Oh come off it Severus, you were there. All is well, and apparently, Harry just did something that hasn't been done in years."

"Indeed…but I don't remember any student being able to break a wall with his bare fist, and nearly kill all his roommates at the same time…well, if I am no longer needed, I wish to retreat to my breakfast headmaster. I shall see you at the Great Hall."

Snape hastily took his exit from the Hospital wing, slamming the door on his way out. "Poppy dear, what have you found in your check up of young Harry?"

"Nothing at all Albus, he's as fit as a fiddle. But if you put that spirit gauge on him, you'll be surprised."

"Hmmm, will I now? Very well…"

"Ummm…Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes Ronald?"

"What's a spirit gauge?"

The tall wizard took the orb-masted helmet and put it on Ron, startling him a bit as he felt the gold numb his cheeks with cold. The room then dimmed a little, and the orb glowed somewhat eerily. A number then began to materialize in the center of it. "An eight, Mr. Weasley. Not bad, not bad at all. You've been working on your magic."

The look on Ron's face told Dumbledore that he had no idea why he was being praised for some number he could not connect to himself, however hard he tried. The look on Harry's face was far more troubled. "This, Ronald, is a device to measure your magical capacity. It is gauged from one to ten for most wizards. Now that you know what it's for, let's put it on Harry."

The ancient, long white-haired wizard's eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles as he took them off Ron and proceeded to put it on Harry. "Poppy, I trust this will be interesting?"

"Yes indeed Albus, yes indeed."

As Harry looked on from under the helmet, in a matter of moments, he was surprised to see Ron's mouth drop. "MERLIN" He worded.

"What? Is there something wrong with me? Ron?"

"Merlin. It says…"

"Merlin." The Headmaster said with a smile. "Harry, I think we should have a private talk later. Come to my office after breakfast. The password is…" He came closer to Harry to whisper in his ear "…Lovenuts."

Harry didn't know what to make of this all. No one was explaining anything to him, and Madam Pomfrey just took the spirit gauge off of him and told him to hurry along to breakfast. Merlin? Of all the expressions to define what his level was, they said Merlin? What was it, 1?

To be continued