Disclaimer: Harry is going to do many dangerous things and while they may be fun, I wouldn't advise you to copy him. If you do and you get hurt, well . . . that's just social Darwinism. If you cause someone else to get hurt then I expect that you may have to pay numerous fines and or spend time in jail.
Better living through Chemistry
It all started with a book. Harry walked stiffly towards his relatives' house, Dudley and his 'friends' had been a bit . . . rougher then usual and Harry was having to take frequent breaks.
Leaning against a garbage can to catch his breath, something caught his eye. "What's this?" Harry pulled out a book and read the title. "'Better Living Through Chemistry?' Well, I suppose my life can't get any worse." Harry carefully tucked the book in one of the pockets of his massive hand me down jacket and continued home.
It would be several hours before he had a chance to examine his find, after he'd been tossed into his cupboard. For the next few hours, Harry used the thin sliver of light that intruded through the cracks to digest the contents of the book. And with one little book, the world changed.
The first ones to notice Harry's new hobby were his aunt and uncle.
"What's this then?" Vernon demanded as he lifted Harry's prized book out of reach.
"Book on chemistry," Harry said quickly.
"Who'd you steal it from?" Vernon growled.
"No one," Harry replied. "I found it in the trash."
"Likely story," Vernon grunted. "Get into the cupboard."
"Yes uncle," Harry said in defeat.
Petunia waitied until the boy had left before offering a comment."Vernon I think . . . I think we should let him keep his hobby."
"What, why?" Vernon growled.
"Isn't science the opposite of . . .of . . . freakishness?" Petunia whispered, as if the conversation might summon one of 'them.'
"I suppose," Vernon grudgingly agreed.
"We've tried beating it out of him," Petunia whispered. "And that didn't work. I can't think of anything else."
"Might keep the little bastard off the dole when he gets older too." Vernon mused," Anything that keeps another leach away from my taxes is a good thing in my book."
"Exactly," Petunia agreed.
"BOY," Vernon yelled. "Get out here now."
"Yes uncle," Harry said hesitantly.
"We've decided to let you keep your book," Vernon said magnanimously. "So long as you do your chores and a few extra."
"Thank you uncle," Harry replied.
The years passed and Harry's skill grew by leaps and bounds. Every spare moment was spent in a makeshift laboratory the boy had cobbled together in a corner of the garden shead.
"Hey freak," Dudley yelled at his cousin.
"What is it Dudley?" Harry asked with a sigh.
"Why don't you look at me when I talk to you," Dudley growled.
"You tell him Duds," one of Dudley's toadies cheered.
"I'm too busy to play with you at the moment Dudley," Harry said absently. "Why don't you go play with yourself."
"I said look at me when I talk to you," the large boy took a menacing step forward.
"I don't think you want to get any closer Dudley," Harry's voice hardened. "In fact, I don't think I want you anywhere near my glass. Some of these items took me forever to find."
"You can't tell me what to do," Dudley said belligerently. "I think it's time I showed you who's boss again. Boys, break his toys." Dudley said to the small gang of hangers on that surrounded him.
"Remember." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a bottle of nasal spray. "I warned you."
"Wha?" Dudley felt a split second of confusion before the world dissolved into pain.
"What did you do to him?"
"Formaldehyde," Harry said with a yawn. "I think you might want to flush his eyes out with this." Harry tossed a small bottle to the other boy. "I also think you might want to tell him to leave me alone form now on."
"Wait till I tell my parents," Dudley gasped.
"Thought you were more of a man then that Dudders," Harry laughed. "Then again you did bring a few friends with you to deal with little ol' me." Harry's voice hardened, "listen very carefully. If you do anything that causes damage to my laboratory, I'll do something unpleasant to you. I don't care what else you do, I don't care if you act like your normal boorish self anywhere but here. If you threaten my lab in any way, well . . ." Harry waved his spray bottle in the blinded boy's direction. "I'll be forced to retaliate."
Things soon fell into a predictable pattern, Dudley and his followers would harass Harry without any fear of reprisal every place but one. Harry in turn spent so little time away from his sanctuary that he figured it a good deal and made not attempt to gain a higher position on the social ladder.
Things once again fell into a predictable routine until a certain letter arrived . . .
"Thanks." Harry snatched the mail out of the post man's hands and quickly sorted through it. "Junk, junk, junk, junk, a letter with my name on it?" Harry spared it a glance before tossing it on the pile of junk mail. "Ah, here it is." Harry held it up in triumph. "My industrial chemical supply catalog. I've been waiting weeks for this to arrive." Sure he couldn't afford anything in it, but it still had a lot of information available to anyone that choose to read it carefully.
"What's this boy?" Vernon's voice stopped Harry before he could escape to his lab.
"What?" Harry turned to look. "Oh that? Just some garbage."
"Be on your way then." Vernon had to fight to keep the pleased smile off his face. Looked like his years of hard work had paid off.
Harry spent the rest of the day in his laboratory and woke up early the next day to finish an experiment he'd been working on. His uncle's bellow of anger caused him to look up a bit. But as the man was nowhere in sight, Harry concluded that the anger wasn't directed at him for once and turned back to his work.
The house was filled with letters when Harry woke up the next morning and his relatives found him standing in the sitting room looking at a the pile with an odd look on his face.
"Gather those up in a bag and put them on the curb," Vernon ordered.
"I'd rather not," Harry said absently.
"Why?" Vernon growled.
"I think I might be able to turn them into something useful," Harry said in the same absent tone. "And it'd be a shame to throw them out if that's true."
"Like what?"
"An artificial log maybe?" Harry mused. "Or fertilizer for the garden."
"Oh . . ." Vernon wasn't sure how to react to that.
"Maybe I could . . . but I'd need some way to pulp them first," Harry continued. "May I use your shreader uncle?"
Vernon was torn between his desire to see his nephew unhappy and his desire to see his nephew reject the freakishness. "You may," Vernon agreed. "But only after you wash the car, cook breakfast, mow the lawn, pull the weeds out of the garden, and clean the house." In the end, he couldn't decide between the two and decided to choose both. Who said you can't have your cake and eat it too?
"Yes uncle," Harry agreed.
IIIIIIIIII
"Well?" The Headmaster asked.
"He's getting them," Minerva replied with a frown. "Charms say that he even read one, but we still haven't gotten any response."
"Perhaps I should go and find out what's wrong," Dumbledore suggested. "I can't imagine why we haven't gotten a response."
"He was raised as a muggle," Minerva pointed out.
"True," Albus agreed. "No matter, I'll straighten things out myself. No need to worry about it any longer."
"Yes Headmaster."
Dumbledore walked off school grounds and disappeared with a pop. He reappeared in front of the Dursley home and approached the door. Raising his hand, he knocked three times and fixed a smile on his face.
"You," Petunia said as she answered the door. "What do you want?"
"I'm just here to make sure that Harry gets this." Albus brandished the letter.
"He got it and doesn't want anything to do with you," Petunia spat. "Now go away."
"Why don't you let him tell me that," Albus said reasonably.
"Of course," Petunia said with a smirk. "He's in the garden shead behind the house."
"Thank you," Dumbledore said to the closing door. Whistling a happy tune, Dumbledore walked around the house and to the shead. "Is anyone in there?"
"Just a sec," a child's voice replied.
"Alright," Dumbledore agreed. He was pleased to not that Lilly's son hadn't seemed to pick up any of his Aunt's habits.
"What can I do for you?" A boy that could only be Harry asked.
"I've come to give you this," Albus said with a smile. "Your acceptance to Hogwarts."
"Does it have a chemistry department?" Harry asked bluntly.
"No."
"Physics?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Biology, mathematics, engineering, any of the sciences at all?" Harry demanded.
"It has magic," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"No thanks," Harry said with a poorly concealed frown. "I'd rather stay in compulsory education."
"But . . . don't you want to learn magic?" Albus asked in shock. In all his time as Headmaster, he couldn't recall a single instance like this.
"It might be interesting," Harry allowed. "But why would I want to do that if I had to give up science?"
"But . . ." Albus was flabbergasted. "We have potions," He offered weakly.
"Uh huh." Harry seamed less then impressed.
"And I could teach you alchemy," Albus said desperately.
"Or I could stay here and learn chemistry and other hard science," Harry countered. "Hmmm, I think I'll stay here."
"Why can't you study chemistry on your holidays?"
"Why couldn't I study magic?" Harry retorted.
"Because magic is so complex that . . ." Albus stopped when he noticed Harry's expanding grin. "I see."
"Unless I went to one of the intense study camps they have, I'd never keep up." Harry explained. "You can't expect me to give up my dream to learn a few tricks can you?"
"Tell me about these camps," Albus demanded.
"They take place at various places around the world," Harry began. "They're fairly intense, and they're also fairly expensive."
"What if I were to arrange for you to attend these camps?" Albus asked. "Then would you be willing to attend Hogwarts?"
"Maybe," Harry said slowly. "But only if I could have a place for my laboratory and time to use it."
"Agreed," Albus said quickly. "It's a deal then."
"With the understanding that I leave if it isn't kept," Harry said wearily. Years of living with the Dursleys had taught him to be suspicious of people's word.
"Of course," Albus replied. "Now if you're not too busy, why don't we go buy your school supplies."
"How long will it take?" Harry asked. "And for that matter, is there any reason I need to come back?"
"Shouldn't take too long," Albus said slowly. "But why wouldn't you want to come back? This is your home isn't it?"
"It's just a place I sleep," Harry said with a shrug. "Well?"
"I suppose you could take a room at the Leaky Culdrion," Albus replied. He did not like the the thoughts that Harry's statement dredged up.
"Good," Harry said with a smile. "Help me pack up my lab."
"Would shrinking hurt it?"
"Some of it maybe," Harry agreed. "And most of it is quite fragile."
"I'll be careful," Albus promised.
"Be especially careful with the chemicals," Harry said quickly. "Most of them can be quite dangerous."
"Where did you get them if they're dangerous?" Albus asked in confusion, he'd heard the the muggle world was even more restrictive then the magic.
"Something is dangerous and needs to be restricted if you call it Potassium Hydroxide or Sulfuric Acid, but it's perfectly safe if you call it drain cleaner." Harry explained. "You just have to get into the habit of reading labels."
"I see," Albus said thoughtfully.
"It's stupid," Harry continued. "The only difference is in people's heads. The government requires me to get a licence to buy things that I can get in a grocery store so long as they have a different name."
"Yes . . . well," Albus had no response.
"Ready," Harry said suddenly. "If you can use magic to pack all that, otherwise I'll need a bit more time."
"Easily done," Albus replied. Albus waved his wand and accomplished the task, privately he was a bit disappointed by the boy's lack of reaction.
"Ok, let's go."
"What about your things in the house?"
"Every thing I care about was in my lab," Harry replied. "That is now sitting in my pocket. Let's go."
"Wouldn't you like to say goodbye to your relatives?"
"No."
"Alright then," Albus said slowly. "Just touch this sock and we will be on our way."
"I'm gonna have to get some physics books," Harry muttered to himself. "A lot of physics books."
"What was that Mr. Potter?"
"What now?"
"Now we buy your wand and books," Dumbledore replied.
"I don't have any money," Harry said bluntly.
"On the contrary," Dumbledore said with a smile. "You have a whole vault full of it."
"Really?"
"Shall I show you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Sure," Harry agreed. Harry watched in intrest as the Headmaster led him to Gringotts and as the Goblins led them in and out of the vault. "Can I have my key?"
"Yes of course," Dumbledore agreed quickly. "Here you are."
"Thank you," Harry said as he pocketed the key.
"So," Dumbledore began. "Where do you want to go first? To get your wand perhaps?"
"Is there an alchemy supply store near here?" Harry asked with a yawn.
"I don't believe so," Dumbledore said slowly.
"What about a potions supply store?" Harry persisted. "A place where I can get some lab where anyway."
"That there is," Dumbledore replied.
"Let's go there," Harry suggested.
"If that is your wish young Potter," Dumbledore agreed. Dumbledore led Harry to a small shop and motioned the boy inside.
"Cauldrons?" Harry said in shock. "You people use Cauldrons?"
"Yes we do," the shopkeep said with a nod. "Muggle born?"
"Half blood, muggle raised." Dumbledore replied.
"What does that mean?" Harry demanded.
"Muggle is a term for a non magical person, your mother was from a non magic family and your father was a pure blood. Hence the term half blood." Dumbledore explained. "Muggle raised because you were raised by your non magical relatives."
"Any tangible advantage to being from a magical family?" Harry asked quickly. "I mean genetics not the fact that they are raised in a magical environment."
"No there is not," Dumbledore said quickly.
"I see . . ."
"Are you going to buy something or are you going to take up space all day?" The shopkeep said with a grin.
"Is there any difference in performance between the various types of metal used in the cauldrons?" Harry demanded.
"Some potions can only be brewed with some types of metal," the shopkeep explained. "And some metals last longer in some circumstances."
"Give me one of each of them," Harry said quickly. "I'd also like to get a look at your glass."
"Glass?"
"You don't use glass in potion making?" Harry asked in horror.
"Some," the shopkeep admitted. "But not many due to the heat involved. Mostly it's just used to hold completed potions."
"Let me see one of your containers," Harry sighed.
"Here." The man placed a small vial on the counter.
"Ah," Harry commented as he examined the vial. "Rather poor quality. I see why you don't use it much."
"You've got better?"
"Much better," Harry said quickly. "Headmaster, would you mind un-shrinking some of my glass?"
"I'd be delighted to help Harry," Dumbledore agreed.
"This looks like a common bottle," the shopkeep examined one of Harry's most useful pieces of equipment.
"It is a bottle," Harry replied. "I didn't have much of a budget so most of my equipment is made up of stuff I've found and modified. You can still see the quality difference between that and what you had though."
"Could you get more of these?" The shopkeep asked as he looked in fascination at one of Harry's precious beakers.
"Yeah, why?"
"Because if you can then I'll pay handsomely for them," the shopkeep said. "Even more handsomely if you'll take store credit."
"Agreed," Harry said quickly. "Do you take custom orders?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I'd like a small leather satchel that is larger on the inside then the outside," Harry began. "It'll need to be large enough to contain every bit of your best equipment and a full inventory of ingredients."
"Shouldn't be too hard," the shopkeep mused. "Leather merchant owes me a few favors. I presume that you want me to stock it for you?"
"With everything you have," Harry agreed.
"Might be a good idea to add a reference library too," the shopkeep suggested. "If you'll let me market this, I'd be willing to give you a percentage."
"I think it would be a good idea Harry," Dumbledore reentered the conversation.
"Alright sir," Harry agreed.
"How does ten percent sound?" The Shopkeep asked.
"That's fine," Harry said after a glance at Dumbledore's face.
"Good," the shopkeeper agreed. "This may not sound . . . well, let me restate that. I doubt sales will be as good if it's known that a first year Hogwarts student came up with the idea. Would you be willing to adopt an alias?"
"Sure," Harry agreed. "How about Newton?"
"First or last name?"
"Last name," Harry said. "H.P. Newton."
"Very good Mr?"
"Potter," Harry said.
"Harry Potter?"
"Yes."
"Might have been best to keep your name after all," the shopkeeper said with a laugh. "No matter, our invented man will do well enough."
"When will this all be ready?"
"Shouldn't be more then a day or two."
"Good." Harry paused to think about something. "Do you know where I could get a good lab coat?"
"Lab coat?"
"You know," Harry encouraged. "A white jacket that you wear to protect your clothing from spills?"
"I've never heard of such a thing," the shopkeeper admitted.
"Headmaster," Harry said. "Could you enlarge my catalogs?"
"Here you are Harry," the Headmaster handed Harry the lab supply catalogs.
"Just a sec." Harry flipped through the booklet for several seconds. "Here, this is a lab coat."
"I might have a few ideas for improvements," the shopkeeper said. "Mind if I talk with Madame Malkin before we go any further on this project?"
"Sure," Harry agreed with a shrug.
"Excellent, it looks like Mr. Newton may soon have another invention to his credit." The shopkeeper rubbed his hands together as he thought about his future profits. "Any other ideas?"
"Goggles, eyewash, uh . . . maybe you should just flip through the catalog."
"Thank you," the shopkeep said as he began flipping through the catalog. "Mr. Potter, I believe that it will be quite some time before we have to worry about a drop in profit potential if you can get me even half of these items."
"Good then."
"Will you be some place where I can reach you in the next few days?"
"Mr. Potter is intending to take rooms at the Leaky Cauldron," Dumbledore said quickly.
"How about I meet you there in a day or so," the shopkeeper suggested. "I'll have Tom tell you when."
"That's fine uh . . ."
"Never gave you my name did I?" The shopkeeper asked. "It's Fred Abel."
"Then I'll see you soon Mr. Abel," Harry said.
"Call me Fred Mr. Potter."
"Harry."
"Harry it is then."
"Goodbye Fred," Harry called out over his shoulder as he left the store.
"Where to now Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Would you like to get your wand now?"
"I'd like to get some books," Harry replied.
"Flourish & Blotts is right over there," Dumbledore sighed.
"Let's go then," Harry demanded.
"As you wish." Dumbledore followed Harry into the store and quickly steared the boy towards the sets of first year texts. "I believe this is what's required for your first year."
"Good," Harry said. "You get a set of those and I'll get a few others to read before school starts." Before Dumbledore could make his reply, Harry disappeared into the stacks.
"This isn't quite how I expected things to go," Dumbledore sighed.
Harry quickly found the store's pitiful section on alchemy and was happily flipping through one of the books when a young girl approached him.
"Hello," the girl said. "Are you starting your first year too?"
"Yeah," Harry said absently.
"That's wonderful," the girl said. "My name is Hermione Granger and I'm the first witch in my family, are you the first magical person in your family."
"No," Harry said without taking his eyes off the book. "But I wasn't raised around magic."
"Do you think we'll have a hard time fitting in?" Hermione asked with a worried frown. "I've been worried that I won't fit in so I've been studying everything I could. I came here today to get more books, my parents said I could get a few and I was just trying to figure out what to get. Do you have any ideas?"
"This one seems rather good." Harry held up the book so she could read the title.
"Abū Bakr Muhammad ibn Zakarīya al-Rāzi?" Hermione read the author's name aloud.
"Many think he's the one that discovered Sulfuric Acid and the process to distill ethanol," Harry added.
"Oh," Hermione examined the book with greater interest. "Are there two of them?"
"Here." Harry handed the girl another copy.
"Thanks, I . . ." Hermione stopped when she noticed an older woman waving at her. "My mother's calling me, I have to go now."
"Fine," Harry said as he turned back to his book.
Eventually, Dumbledore managed to pull Harry away from his books to continue the shoping trip. Much to the old man's dismay, Harry insisted on getting every other item before they finally drifted into the wand shop.
After a rather . . . eventful wand selection, Harry was fed the largest meal he'd ever eaten and bundled off to bed in one of Tom's best rooms.
Fred the shopkeeper was waiting when Harry walked down to breakfast the next morning.
"Morning Fred," Harry yawned.
"Ah Harry," Fred began. "I have something to show you."
"What is it?"
"The prototype of the new lab coat," Fred said. "Madame Malkin was so intrigued by the idea that she worked through the night to make a prototype."
"Oh?"
"I've asked Tom for a private booth so we can discuss it," Fred continued. "Make your order and join me there will you?"
"Sure," Harry agreed. Harry quickly made his order and rejoined his new business partner.
"Take a look at this." Fred laid what appeared to be a standard lab coat on the table. "We took a muggle idea and used magic to make it as good as possible. It's as resistant to damage as we can make it, it has several self repairing charms, and the pockets are much deeper then they appear to be."
"My goggles?"
"They can see heat and cold, have a bubble headed charm, etc." Fred said with a yawn.
"Great, thanks."
"No problem," Fred said with a wave. "Most of the things went in here to prove that they could work together. Our production models will be much less extensive."
"Ok," Harry agreed. "Is everything else ready?"
"It'll be a few more days," Fred replied. "I'll have everything delivered to you at Hogwarts if there are any delays."
"Great."
Tom led Harry through the floo to the Platform personally on the first day of school. The old man had said that it was the least he could do for 'the-boy-who-lived' and Harry found himself a seat on the train.
Harry had pulled out a new texts and was just starting to understand a concept that had eluded on a previous reading when the door to the compartment opented.
"Uh . . ." Ron took one look at the boy with his nose in a book. "I'll find somewhere else to sit." Harry didn't even bother grunting in reply.
The next distraction came with the bushy headed girl he'd met in the bookstore. "Hello again," Hermione said. "It's nice to see someone I know on the train. You haven't seen a toad have you? Because a boy named Neville is looking for his pet toad that got loose and is now hopping around the train and I agreed to help him look for it. What book are you reading?"
"A brief history of time," Harry replied. "And no, I haven't seen a toad."
"Ok," Hermione said. "I'll keep looking then. See you later."
"Later."
Harry rode the train the remainder of the way to Hogwarts and allowed himself to be dragged along with the group to the sorting, his nose still buried firmly in the book.
"Potter, Harry." McGonagall called out and the hall went silent. "Potter, Harry . . . POTTER, HARRY."
"Hmmm?" Harry looked up from his book, "what do you need."
"Go sit on the chair and put on the hat," McGonagall ordered.
"Alright," Harry agreed. The hat was on his head for less then a second when Harry returned to his book.
"Hmmm," the hat pondered. "No ambition, never had friends and don't really understand the concept of loyalty, putting you in another house has been done to death and it would ruin a scene or two, so it had better be . . . GRYFFINDOR." The hall erupted into cheers . . . which trailed off after the students noticed that Harry hadn't made a move to get out of the chair.
"Take your seat Mr. Potter," McGonagall said calmly. "Take your seat Mr. Potter," she said a bit louder. "TAKE YOUR SEAT MR. POTTER," she yelled.
"Where?" Harry looked up with a bewildered expression.
"In that table over there." McGonagall indicated her house's table. "Got the looks from James," McGonagall muttered. "But I'll be damned if that isn't Lilly's boy."
Harry's first week of school was rather eventful, first came his Transfiguration class . . .
"What are you doing Mr. Potter?" McGonagall sighed.
"Checking the weight of the matchstick," Harry mumbled. "And comparing it to the needle you transfigured. Hmmm . . . weight is the same, I wonder if it's just gotten denser? Professor, could you transfigure another matchstick but stop half way this time?"
"Why don't you do it yourself?" McGonagall asked quickly, "that way you could have several at all stages if you gain enough skill."
"Right," Harry agreed. McGonagall watched in shock as the young boy transfigured several matches into needles. "Having trouble getting it to stay in the half done state," Harry said with a frown. "Could you offer a hint Professor."
"Five points to . . . " McGonagall started say before she caught herself. "Just . . . stop half way through."
"Uh . . . ok?"
Potions class also proved to be eventful . . .
Daphne growled, she had woken up late and by the time she got to her first Potions class everyone had paired up except one of the Gryffs. Why oh why was she being punished so?
"Move over," she growled at her new partner.
"Hmm?" Harry glanced over at her, "who are you?"
"Daphne Greengrass," she said with a smirk waiting for the stupid boy to recoil in horror . . . any moment now.
"Oh," Harry said with a blink. "Have a seat." With that the boy went back to his book, leaving his new partner in a state of confusion.
Snape entered and gave his speech a few minutes later before asking Harry a series of questions which the boy was able to answer easily. His plot foiled, Snape wrote a recipe on the board and stalked over to his desk to sulk.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Harry said to his new partner.
"Why now?" Daphne challenged.
"Because if you add that now it will explode and shower us with burning liquid," Harry replied. "Something I doubt you'd like to experience."
"Oh," the girl said in a small voice.
"Here." Harry spent a few moments arranging the girl's ingredients. "I've put them in order, first pile goes in first and so on. Feel free to ask if you need any more help."
"Ok." Daphne spent the rest of the class period brewing her potion and shooting curious glances at the boy sitting next to her.
In the days after the first potions class, Daphne began spending quite a bit of time around Harry. This of course confused the boy terribly but he eventually broke down and showed her the small laboratory that the Headmaster had allowed him to set up in one of he abandoned classrooms.
"Time to eat Harry," Daphne said.
"In a minute," Harry said absently.
"You said that ten minutes ago," Daphne whined. "It's time to go now."
"Alright," Harry sighed. He'd learned that there was only so far he could go before things started getting unpleasant. "Let's go."
The two children were walking down the hall to the great hall when Daphne froze. "Harry, be very quiet and don't make any sudden moves."
"Why?"
"Because there is a large Troll in the hallway ahead of us," Daphne replied. "Slowly, very slowly. Let's just slide into this room and hope he goes away."
"But that's the girl's toilet," Harry protested.
"It'll be ok to go in this once," Daphne hissed. "Now come on."
"Fine," Harry agreed with a sigh. The two children went into the bathroom and quickly discovered that they weren't alone.
"Granger?" Daphne said in shock. "What are you doing here?"
"Why are you crying?" Harry asked.
"Because I don't have any friends," Hermione sobbed. "No one likes me. They say I'm just a know it all."
"We'll be your friends," Harry offered.
Daphne frowned for a moment upon hearing Harry's pronouncement. Friends with a mudblood? Although . . . she did have the highest grades in the year and was second only to Harry when it came to potions. "That's right," she agreed. "We will."
"Thank you," Hermione said great fully. "I . . ." Anything more the girl might have said cut off when the door burst open to reveal an angry troll.
"That's right the troll," Harry said with a nod. "Forgot about that."
"You forgot about the Troll?" Daphne screamed in exasperation.
"Didn't seem important," Harry replied with a shrug.
"Not important? Bloody thing's gonna kill us and you don't think it's important?"
Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of nasal spray and gave the Troll a squirt to the face when it got too close. The girls watched in shock as the troll began bellowing in pain and clutching it's eyes. "No," Harry agreed. "I don't think it's important."
"What did you do to it?" Hermione forced herself to ask.
"Formaldehyde," Harry explained. "Easy to get and it's more painful then capsaicin when you get it in the eyes."
"Isn't that what they use on dead people?" Hermione asked.
"Yep," Harry agreed.
Daphne watched in shock as the other two students held a normal conversation only a few feet away from a screaming troll. "What have I gotten myself into?" The girl muttered to herself.
IIIIIIIIII
"Do you know why I've called you here Patrick?" Professor Snape asked.
"Not a clue Severus," Patrick Greengrass replied. "Does it have something to do with my daughter?"
"I'm afraid it does," Snape sighed. "Your daughter . . . Daphne has been spending a lot of time around Potter. So much time in fact that her classmates are beginning to wonder about her."
"Ah, is that all?" Patrick said with a laugh. "I'm well aware of that, in fact I've encouraged her to continue her friendship with the Potter boy and the muggle girl."
"You have?" Snape asked in shock. "Why?"
"You're asking me why I'm encouraging my daughter to pursue young Potter?" Patrick asked with an amused grin. "Let me put it another way. You're asking why I'm encouraging my daughter to go after a young wizard that has a large family fortune, fame, and the potential to be one of the greatest potions masters of our time?"
IIIIIIIIII
The months passed and eventually the three students went into the bowels of the school to prevent the theft of the Philosopher's stone.
"We're going to have to get on a broom and pick out the right key," Hermione said in realization. "Uh . . . are either of you good enough to get it?"
"I might be," Daphne said with a frown. "But it'll take me a while . . . what are you doing Harry?"
"Mixing up some thermite," Harry replied absently.
"What's thermite?" Hermione asked.
"You might say it's a key to every lock," Harry replied. "Cover your eyes." The girls had known Harry long enough not to question him about things like this and both slapped their hands over their eyes immediately. "Ok, you can open them now."
"Uh . . . how did you burn a hole through the door?" Daphne asked in shock.
"I told you," Harry said. "Thermite, mixed with a bit of magic so it ignores gravity and there you are."
"Oh . . . let's go then." The three students walked through the door to find McGonagall's guardians.
"I think we're suppose to play through," Daphne said. "Harry . . . what's that bottle in your hand?"
"Nitro Glycerin," Harry replied. "You two might want to go back into the other room for a moment."
"Nitro . . ." Hermione's eyes widened in shock and she immediately grabbed Daphne by the arm and forced her into the other room. They were joined a few moments later by Harry.
"What did you just . . ." Daphne was interrupted by a giant explosion and a cloud of dust coming through the open doorway. "Never mind."
And finally, the trio came to the last challenge before the chamber with the stone. "One of us is going to have to stay here, one of us can go forward, and one of us will have to go back for help." Hermione said. "Just give me a moment to work out this riddle."
"We could do that," Harry agreed. The girls watched as he pulled out a fire extinguisher and hosed down the flames. "Or we could all go ahead."
"Why did you have a fire extinguisher with you?" Hermione demanded.
"You'd be surprised at how often I need to use it," Harry replied with a shrug.
"Actually," Hermione said. "No I wouldn't."
"Let's just go," Daphne said in exasperation.
"Ok," Harry agreed.
After a short conversation with their Defence Professor, Harry and the gang were confronted by the spectre of the most feared dark lord in recent memory.
"You see Potter," Voldemort said. "There is not good or evil, only power and . . . are you listening to me?"
"Sorry about that," Harry said as he pulled something out of his pocket. "I just needed to find this." With that, Harry shot a long steam of liquid into the dark lord's face.
"Arrrg," Voldemort screamed. "What have you done to me."
"Formaldehyde," the girls replied together.
AN: This would be a very research heavy project if I ever get around to writing more of this. It would also need to be expanded quite a bit from it's presant form. Anyone who wants to take this is welcome to it. Wrote a lot here for just an idea but I wanted to get to the end of the first year. If you don't like the fact that I put in Daphne Greengrass then you need look no further then Kinsfire in search of the culprit. It's his fault, I had no plans to put her in until I read a story of his on his site which is Kinsfire dot net and I had to put her in. You see, I'm not at fault he is. Well what happens next, I don't know. Maybe something else with Snape, Harry thinks Snape is incompetent and Snape thinks Harry is a Potter. Year two, the giant snake gets a face full of Formaldehyde or maybe Harry tosses some elemental potassium in its mouth. Year three, formaldehyde doesn't work on dementors but it does on werewolves. Year four, who knows. Year five, toad woman gets a face full of . . . you guessed it formaldehyde. Year six, uh . . . something to do with formaldehyde. Year seven, Harry beats Voldemort with science. Now, some of you may have noticed that I used the word formaldehyde a lot in the last paragraph. This is because a: formaldehyde is a fun work, just say it a few times and see if it doesn't bring a smile to your face. And b: I didn't feel like doing much thinking and using formaldehyde when nothing popped into my brain was easy.
OMAKE: From the Grave.
Harry was sitting in his room staring dully at he wall when a strange owl swooped in and delivered a letter. Harry's throat developed a large lump when he read the front and realised that it was from his newly expired godfather.
Dear Harry,
If you are reading this then I am dead, probably in the Department of Mysteries. At a guess I was killed some time between three and five in the afternoon by my cousin Bellatrix (You know, Draco's aunt, one of the people that tortured your friend's parents into insanity?) As I was saying, I'd guess that I wasn't paying attention and she hit me with some sort of spell, I don't think she'd have used a lethal spell which is strange because she doesn't normally show restraint but I digress. After being hit by this spell, I'll bet I fell down a staircase or into some sort of veil that kills people and now I'm dead. Harry, I just want to tell you that it's not your fault. I had a feeling that you'd be blaming yourself for my death, which may have happened because the Voldemort tricked you somewhere and I had to come to the rescue, if that's what happened then it's not your fault and you need to quit moping. Now if you're anything like James then you're entertaining thoughts of escape, and I want to be serious and not Sirius for a minute. You can't escape, I know how easy it would be to wait till Dung took his shift at noon today (in fifteen minutes from the time you're reading this part) I know that all you have to do is wait till he gets drunk and passes out, (five minutes after his shift starts) which you'll confirm by listening for snores. I know that you realise that you can remove the underage detection charms on your wand by waving it three times, ending with a flick, and saying the incantation 'Whatever, I do magic when I want, screw you hippie.' And that you could then remove the tracking charms that were placed on virtually everything you own by saying, Badus Latainus Spellus endus. I know that you're too smart to do this and that instead you'd choose to transfer them to something else such as your bed using the incantation, 'transfurus orus somethingus.' I realise that you would then walk down the street to the third house on the left, the yellow one with red flowers in the front where you would lift up a brick in the garden (the one with a five scratched into it) to find a small key that happens to be a portkey to a secret location. And I'm sure that you don't expect to find an unplotable location where you'll join me, realising that I faked my own death and then sent this letter. I know all this because you're too bright to try to leave the cess pool of a prison that Dumbledore has exiled you to.
Your 'Very dead, don't think otherwise' Godfather
Sirius (Faked my Death) Black.
Harry blinked, once, twice, three times. Then he got to packing, he had a portkey to not get and a godfather to not get reunited with.
AN: Lots of fics have Harry getting a letter from Sirius after he gets home in the summer, many of these letters are surprisingly detailed. Suppose I could use this in a fic, have it be the start of one where Harry and Sirius have a summer of drunken debauchery. Also suppose that I've got a lot on my plate right not.
Another little Omake that popped into my head, goes with the above.
"Harry . . . Ron is your friend right? I mean, you two would do anything for each other right?"
"Yeah why?" Harry asked suspiciously, "does this have anything to do with my new liver?"
"No, of course not." Sirius said nervously, "I'm just making conversation."
"Oh . . . ok Sirius."
Back in England, Ron was waking up feeling very cold.
"Hwa?" Ron looked around, he seemed to be in a bath tub filled with ice. "What happened to me?" The boy's head swiveled around until he saw a message written on the mirror with lipstick.
GO TO A HEALER NOW !
Like I said, I've got too much on my plate to write 'Harry Potter and the Summer of Drunken Debauchery' so if anyone wants it . . .