Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the wizarding world	By : zoy_grey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10767 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own nor make profit off of JK Rowling's world of Harry Potter, the characters or the timeline. I do own some of the characters that are of my imagination as well as the plot that I came up with.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
CHAPTER 4
At last, the first week of school has ended. Harry was proud of himself and his progress. He has almost learned all the corridors in the castle and he even succeeded a few times in avoiding confrontation with Peeves, the annoying poltergeist.
Harry was slowly getting his confidence. After the first few classes he understood he wasn’t the only person who didn’t have much practice with magic before he came to Hogwarts. That, somehow, made him feel a little better, although, people like Hermione weren’t helping. It’s not that he disliked her, but sometimes she really didn’t know when to stop talking. Ron, on the other hand, was keeping Harry company. The red haired boy was more or less on the same academic level as Harry, although he knew definitely more about the wizarding world in general, but that was nice. Harry could always ask Ron about things he didn’t understand about witches and wizards, and he didn’t have to worry that the boy would make fun of him.
The feeling that he belong in Hogwarts was gradually sinking in his mind. He didn’t even worry about teachers’ expectations, because they seemed kind to everyone. True, some of them – like professor McGonagall – were very strict and demanding, but still seemed nice. Harry knew he’d have to work hard not to disappoint the professors, who obviously expected him to do well, but that was fine – he himself wanted to get good marks, because there was nothing he dreamed of more than to prove everyone he could be famous not because of Voldemort, but because he was capable of doing great things.
“Don’t worry Harry,” said Ron entering first-year boys’ dormitories “You’re not the only one who has never flew on a broom.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll just be the only guy who never even sat on a broom.” complained Harry and threw his books on the bed. Ron had just reminded him that their first flying lesson was in few days.
“No, you won’t. Seamus, Phelan and I know how to fly and play Quidditch, but Dean and Ethan never even thought it’s possible to fly, before they came here.” explained Ron “I doubt Neville knows how to fly either.”
“Maybe you’re right, but…just imagine Malfoy’s reaction when I’ll fall of the broom” he sighed heavily “Can’t we have flying lessons with Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs?”
Harry tried to forget the only bad memory he had from that first week, but it seemed rather impossible. He had a feeling the whole school will know soon enough that he was the most hated student of professor Snape. Yes, he had a bad feeling about the man at the feast, but the way the teacher treated him during their first Potions class was beyond anything he expected; the man simply hated his guts. The worst thing was they had Potions with Slytherins.
After a week Harry was starting to understand why so many people warned him about that particular House. They always kept their heads high, almost never smiled, seemed to hate Muggle-borns and Muggles. Not only that – they bullied other students, especially Malfoy; and their Head of House was Snape, who always favoured his own House and took points from other students.
“Don’t worry Harry. Slytherins are always boasting about everything, but I guess they’re not that good at flying” said Ron and continued talking about Quidditch and his favourite team.

Severus Snape walked down one of the many corridors of the castle trying to get through the crowds of the students running enthusiastically around the whole school. Fortunately for him most students knew better than to cross his path, especially when he was in a bad mood.
“…I..I’m,” a first year Ravenclaw girl just bumped into him and tried to find words to apologize but with no success.
The potions master stood there and stared at the girl with his black eyes, his face expressionless, which made the Ravenclaw even more terrified.
“I’m…so sorry professor,” she finally said.
“I suggest you pay more attention to your surroundings,” was the man’s cold reply.
He continued walking in the headmaster’s office direction leaving the students speechless that he didn’t say anything awful to the girl. However, few seconds later he stopped and looked sternly at the Ravenclaw.
“Five points will be taken from Ravenclaw for your behaviour, Ms. Brocklehurst.”
Walking up the stairs he wondered what Dumbledore wanted from him that he called him just after his last class that week. Severus was still in a very bad mood; even taking points from Ravenclaw just a moment ago didn’t help brighten his day.
‘Thank Merlin, my Slytherins are more disciplined,’ he thought ‘or at least they knew how not to get caught by anyone when breaking the rules.’
“Ah, Severus,” a female voice got him out of his thoughts “Albus is waiting for you in his office.”
“Yes, thank you professor McGonagall,” said the man “I see headmaster wanted to talk with all Heads of Houses today. I better not keep him waiting then.”
He walked up the spiral staircase and into Dumbledore’s office. As always, the man was sitting in his chair with that confusing smile plastered on his face.
“I have been waiting for you Severus,” the older wizard smiled even more and offered him a bowl of yellow sweets “Lemon drop?”
“No, thank you,” answered Snape “Might I ask why I was called here, headmaster?”
“Straight to the point, I see. All right then,” he leaned backwards in his chair and observed the potions master from above his glasses “I wanted to ask you about our new students. How are they doing, how are they accommodating?”
Honestly, Severus couldn’t believe he was called for such a trivial matter. Why was Dumbledore so interested in the new students all of a sudden? He always cared for every child in Hogwarts, but he never wanted to have a report from the teachers after the first week.
“Fine, I suppose. I don’t expect them to surprise the world with their outstanding achievements, except a few perhaps,” he said with a snort “but apart from that I don’t see anything out of order.”
“I’ve heard you already scared most of the first-years,” Dumbledore fought back a laugh, when the younger wizard snorted again at his comment.
“I’m not supposed to be their friend but their teacher.”
“True, but you’re also the Head of Slytherin,” the headmaster looked more seriously at him “How do you handle your new students?”
“Slytherins do not need handling. They know how to behave not to embarrass their house” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I don’t doubt that. However, this year there are quite a few students who might feel a bit,” he paused to think “…unwelcomed in Slytherin.”
‘Typical non-Slytherin way of thinking,’ thought Severus.
“I assure you that no harm will happen to any half-blood in my house. I admit, I was a bit surprised to find two Muggle-borns under my care, but as far as I’ve seen both Mr. Cameron and Ms. Simmons are doing quite well.”
For a long moment Dumbledore said nothing, just sat there observing the other wizard. It seemed as if he was trying to read something from Snape’s expression or behaviour.
Severus was already starting to think the headmaster didn’t believe him, but knowing the older man as long as he did, he knew it was something else. He knew that serious expression on Dumbledore’s face – it meant the man was judging the situation. Snape didn’t like that one bit; it was obvious to him the older wizard knew something no one else did; something he’ll most likely reveal later rather than sooner and that was what worried him. He trusted Dumbledore – how could he not, after everything the headmaster has done for him – but all those secrets and plots were driving him crazy. He had enough of all the secrets – he wasn’t a spy anymore and simply wanted to do his job as potions master.
“All right, Severus. I trust your judgement and I know you’ll have an eye on your students,” the older man smiled and there was that twinkle in his eyes.
“Is that all then? Or do you need me, headmaster?”
“That’s all, Severus” answered the man and took out some papers from his desk.
Snape turned around and headed to the door when he was stopped once more.
“I almost forgot to ask,” started Dumbledore “How is young Harry doing?”
The potions master stiffened at the mention of the boy who gave him a headache today.
“I don’t see why you’re asking me about the boy, headmaster,” he said through his clenched teeth “He’s the responsibility of professor McGonagall.”
“I know,” he smiled again “Minerva is rather enthusiastic to have him in her house and I already know her opinion, but I’d like to hear yours as well.”
“Spitting image of his father,” he frowned “Ignorant and arrogant just like Potter senior and the rest of his so-called friends.”
Seeing Dumbledore rather amused with his answer, Severus wished him good evening and left.
Once the headmaster was left alone in his office he stood up and walked to the small cabinet in the back. He stood there for a longer moment and contemplated all the reports, about new students, he heard that afternoon from professors Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall and Snape.
It seemed everything was in order and the first years were accommodating well. But because he learned from his mistakes, the wizard knew one could never be too cautious – better be safe than sorry. Dumbledore never stopped thinking how different life could have been if they paid more attention to some of their former students. He was definitely not going to make the same mistake twice.
After a while, Dumbledore opened the cabinet and picked a few vials of an unknown potion – the liquid was transparent and looked almost like water. He placed the vials in a light green box and carefully closed it.
Few seconds later there was a quiet pop and one of the Hogwarts’ house elves showed up.
“This is the box I want you to deliver to Madam Pomfrey,” he said quickly and then added “Those are the special nutrition potions I told her about.”
“Yes, headmaster,” the house elf bowed and vanished with the box.

The main parlour of the Malfoy Manor was occupied by the entire family. Abraxas was sitting by the fireplace, reading a book, Lucius was just relaxing with a glass of Superior Red and observed with slight amusement how Narcissa was rushing the house elves, who were preparing a box of Draco’s favourite sweets.
“No, no. He doesn’t like these,” she scolded one of the elves and smiled a moment later “Only the best for my Dragon.”
Suddenly, Dobby showed up in the parlour and handed Lucius a letter.
“Young master Draco sent a letter, sir.”
“Finally,” the man said with pride in his eyes, and took the letter.
He put the glass of wine on the side table and opened the envelope. Lucius was waiting for news from Draco and he expected only good news. After all, his son knew how important his little task was for their family. It wasn’t really necessary for the Malfoys to gain more power or higher social status, since they were already one of the most prominent families in the wizarding world. However, it wouldn’t hurt them if the public thought they were on good terms with Potter.
He read through the letter looking for information his son became friends with the boy-who-lived. It looked like Draco already gained respect among his housemates, became a favourite student of the potions master, Severus Snape, whom Lucius remembered from when he was attending Hogwarts. He felt growing pride for his son, who obviously was going in his footsteps. Their family members were always brilliant in potion brewing so it was no surprise Draco inherited that talent, but on the other hand, Severus Snape was a brilliant potions master himself, and a very demanding at that. All in all, the youngest Malfoy seemed to be doing well in school.
“What does Draco say?” asked Narcissa closing the box of sweets the house elves have finally finished preparing.
“He already managed to impress his Head of House,” answered Lucius scanning through the rest of the letter.
“Severus Snape is still the Head of Slytherin house, isn’t he?” she said.
“Yes, he is,” her husband answered calmly, but a slight frown appeared on his forehead.
“Snape. He’s that half-blood who became potions master,” Abraxas said, still going through his book “You always spoke highly of him, not to mention, the Dark Lord trusted him. I suppose Draco is doing fine then.”
“…He better be,” said Lucius, took the letter and walked to his study.
Narcissa watched her husband walk out and said nothing, but she knew something was wrong. After all those years she knew Lucius very well and she could sense something didn’t go according to his plan. She knew it, because the man was too proud to admit a failure or a problem to Abraxas. That’s why at times like that he locked himself in his study.
Narcissa, however, didn’t see it that way. To her, Lucius was a cunning and intelligent person, who always achieved his goals. Of course, some of his plans didn’t go exactly his way, but she didn’t think of them as failures. Those were just minor obstacles and in the end Lucius always found a way to get what he wanted.
She excused herself, took the package for her son and left her father-in-law in the parlour. When she reached the door to Lucius’ study and knocked, the man didn’t answer. Refusing to leave him alone without an explanation, she let herself in.
Inside, she saw two, rather small, dogs fighting each other in front of the big, mahogany desk. Her husband stood there with his wand and seemed to agitate the animals with some spell. The most bizarre thing about the entire scene was the fact that the dogs had rather rich and elaborate decorations painted on their skin. She examined them closer and froze.
“Lucius,…are those,” she started, her eyes wide with surprise “…are those…the French vases my mother gave us?”
“Yes. I transfigured them for the time being.”
“Enough,” she took out her wand with a sigh and turned the dogs into vases again. She put them back to their places and was relieved nothing bad has happened to them.
Lucius just snorted and put away his wand.
“Now, tell me what seems to bother you,” she tried again, when the man said nothing “It’s about Draco, isn’t it?”
“See for yourself,” he sighed and showed her the letter.
Narcissa took the parchment from her husband and read it. Now she knew why he was so upset. Obviously Draco failed to become friends with Harry Potter; if she understood correctly what her son was writing, Draco not only didn’t become Potter’s friend, but they were now enemies – that couldn’t be good.
“How hard can it be to become friends with an orphan, who naturally craves to make new friends?” the wizard poured himself another glass of wine and sat on the sofa.
“Calm down, Lucius,” she defended her son “We don’t know the whole situation. He just wrote he didn’t manage to befriend Potter yet, but maybe if he has more time…”
“No, Narcissa. He wrote they are practically enemies now and Potter’s friend number one is now the Weasley boy,” he interrupted her “This is a disaster.”
“Don’t worry about it so much. He’s doing fine with his classes and Potter will come to his senses, when he’ll get to know our Dragon better,” she said and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“We can’t wait till Potter comes to his senses. Draco has to act now, before it’s too late. He should know how to take such an opportunity.”
“Lucius, don’t you think you expect too much from him? He’s just a child.”
“He’s a Malfoy and my son. He ought to behave like a Malfoy heir should,” the wizard said agitated and looked at his wife “And you always protect him…”
“Because I have to. He’s my child and you want him to act like an adult already,” Narcissa got irritated by the way Lucius acted “Why can’t you see how much Draco looks up to you?”
The wizard was stunned by his wife’s sudden outburst of anger. She almost never showed such emotions and he could hardly remember the very few arguments they had during all that time they knew each other. Maybe she had a point, though. He only wanted what was in their family’s best interest, but sometimes he forgot what was most important – his family members. He promised himself he’s going to be a wonderful father and husband when the war ends, but all he could really do for Draco was to buy him everything he asked for. Maybe that wasn’t enough; maybe he should pay more attention to his son than to his work?
“What do you expect me to do then?” he asked with resignation.
“I want you to write back to him like a loving father and by the way,” she placed the box of sweets in front of him “send him this from me too.”

The Slytherin common room wasn’t too crowded yet – only first years and some seventh years already finished their classes for the day. Most of them were sitting in groups, either chatting or doing homework, and in general they seemed to be in a rather good mood. Almost everyone was in good mood.
Draco stormed into the chamber with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. He was fuming – his face was pale as always but one could easily see how angry the blond was.
The boy stopped by the entrance and looked around the room, as if searching for something. Second later, his eyes looked a bit happier and he walked straight to the leather sofa, standing by the fireplace. The two first year girls – Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass – moved so that he could sit with them.
“What happened, Draco?” asked Pansy, trying to be as nice as possible.
Meanwhile, Crabbe and Goyle stopped by the other sofa and glared at a black haired boy from their year – Andrew Cameron.
“Move,” was all Goyle said to him and waited for the boy to get up.
“Didn’t you hear what he said?” asked maliciously Pansy since Draco wasn’t paying attention to her previous question anyway.
“There’s enough place for all of us to sit here,” retorted Andrew with confidence in his voice. “Don’t you think so?”
While the rest was offended by the boy’s attitude, a small smirk appeared on Malfoy’s face. He was amused by the black haired boy’s answer.
‘He has guts to stand up to two burly pure-bloods, who could beat him in a second,’ thought the blond.
“Right now, we are occupying these seats and you are not welcomed here,” said Pansy with a forced smile, when Crabbe finally decided to literally push Andrew off the sofa.
“Half-blood he may be, but he’s still a Slytherin,” said Malfoy a bit mad at his housemates for treating the black haired boy the way they did. He’d never treat him as his equal, but he didn’t see a reason to bully someone from his own house; besides, even if it was barely the beginning of the term, he’s already seen that some of the half-bloods and muggle-borns were doing quite well in classes, not worse than Crabbe or Goyle at least.
“It’s bad enough we have to share a dormitory with a mudblood,” commented quietly Daphne.
“At least our Slytherin Muggle-born knows more about flying than the Gryffindor pure-bloods,” the blond sneered, while Andrew stood up mumbling something about annoying gits and headed to the dormitories.
“What’s your plan for the duel with Potter, Malfoy?” asked excited Crabbe sitting comfortably on the sofa.
“Do I look like an idiot, Crabbe?” asked irritated Draco. “Do I?”
Seeing the blond getting mad both, Crabbe and Goyle, shook their heads and tried to apologize to him. Parkinson and Greengrass, on the other hand looked surprised and shocked, but ready to start complimenting him, as long as that helps him calm down.
“Draco, you will duel with Potter, right? You have to,” Pansy tried reasoning. “You’re much better with spells than Potter, you know more hexes and curses than any of us and you’re the best duellist in our year; your parents taught you how to duel, after all. You’ll beat Potter in a minute.”
“And lose points for our house, and get detention in the process,” he looked sternly at them. “No, thank you. I have a much better idea.”
The blond stood up and walked there and forth, thinking about his idea; it had to be played well. If he managed to pull this one, Gryffindor would lose points and Potter would be in trouble.
He desperately tried to do something to impress his father, especially after his failure. He got a letter from home, just a few days ago, and he didn’t like it one bit. Although his father didn’t write anything bad in it, he didn’t even scold him much, but Draco knew very well that the man was disappointed and was probably raging when he heard his son and Potter were enemies. This brought him back to thinking about Potter. It’s been over a week since their meeting in Hogwarts Express, yet he couldn’t forget it; the memory kept coming back and bugging him. When he saw that Weasley got faster to Potter, he thought it’ll be difficult or even impossible to convince the boy-who-lived to be friends, but then he felt something strange; Draco wasn’t even sure it was real or only his imagination, but he could swear he felt something familiar in Potter’s aura – something he could feel around a few other Slytherins and other students, as well as professor Snape. That’s why he thought there for a minute that he’ll succeed with his task; he saw that Potter wanted to shake his hand, but for some unknown reason he changed his mind. Malfoy couldn’t understand what happened – to be honest, he wouldn’t mind being friends with the boy-who-lived; after all, he seemed to have more brains than some other students, disregard for rules to some point and he was good at flying, which made him a perfect friend -, but Potter had to ruin everything. Draco wouldn’t be that furious and vengeful if Harry turned his friendship down, when there were no witnesses. Being turned down in front of Weasley, of all people, - not to mention Crabbe and Goyle – was more than a slap on his cheek.
“Where are you going, Draco?” asked confused Daphne, when the blond turned to walk away without explaining his idea.
“I’m tired; going to the dormitory,” he glanced at his self-proclaimed bodyguards and added with a smirk “Meet me here in two hours. We’re going to Filch…he simply can’t miss the small get-together in the trophy room at midnight.”
Malfoy left his friends by the fireplace and headed to his dormitory.
He needed some time alone to think his plan through. Informing Filch about the Gryffindors’ plans was one thing, but not leaving any evidence it was him, was a completely different matter. He knew that Potter was going to realise it was him, who informed Filch, but still, he wanted the Gryffindors to be unable to prove it. That was his goal; that was what a true Slytherin and a true Malfoy would do.
When he got to the stairs and was almost by the first years’ dormitories he stopped abruptly. There was someone by the entrance to the bathrooms. If he wasn’t mistaken there were two people talking in hushed voices.
“Wait, please. I’m not making this up, honestly.” Draco leaned forward a bit to get a better view of the two – it was the boy from the common room, Cameron, and he was talking with that Muggle-born.
“Even if that’s true, why are you telling me this?” the girl asked and crossed her arms. “Everyone thinks you’re a half-blood, good for you. And I strongly suggest you stop talking with a mudblood like me, if you don’t want anyone to get suspicious.”
“Alright, look. I really have enough of all this blood status talk. I can’t change the fact that my parents died and Muggles adopted me; at least they never lied to me that they are my real parents. As far as I know, I could be half-blood or even pure-blood, but that doesn’t matter. I simply want to make some friends here,” the black haired boy smiled and continued. “I thought it might be good to have a friend who knows the truth. Someone who will understand what it means to…”
“Live with Muggles?” she interrupted him. “That doesn’t sound like a very good reason to befriend me.”
“I think you’re smart, interesting and quiet good at potions” he smiled again. “Sounds like a better reason, Simmons?”
“Jamie. And you have no idea what it means to live with my Muggles. You wouldn’t last a day, Cameron.” The girl smiled brightly at him and held out her hand.
“You can call me Andy,” he took her hand and added “Is it really that bad to live with them?”
“You have no idea,” she said with a laugh and vanished behind the door to the first year girls’ dormitory.
Draco waited a moment longer until Cameron walked into the bathroom, and then he sneaked into boys’ dorms. He laid on his bed with his arms crossed under his head.
‘That was interesting. So it seems we have two Muggle-borns,’ he thought. ‘But there’s something odd in their attitude. Granger, for instance, is a know-it-all and takes pride in being a Muggle-born. They, on the other hand, want to keep quiet about their blood status, but still, they know their own value.’

At quarter to midnight a group of four first-year Gryffindors wandered quietly to the trophy room.
Harry walked a few steps ahead of them, because he didn’t want to participate in Ron and Hermione’s little argument. He was too nervous that they might get caught, that he really wasn’t in the mood to listen to the two. Harry had second thoughts on this entire duel with Malfoy. True, he wanted to beat the blond face to face and he finally got the chance, but was it really worth it? He broke one school rule today and managed to get away with it – and even got rewarded, which was a bit odd - , but know he was breaking another rule. It might be one rule too many. He worried they’d meet Filch or Mrs. Norris and that would be disastrous.
‘Would McGonagall kick me out of the Quidditch team for that? The same day they took me into the team,’ he thought while Ron and Hermione were discussing something about the curse of bogies.
Luckily, they managed to get to the trophy room – Hermione seemed to be angry at all of them for breaking the rules and not listening to her advice, Ron was annoyed with the girl’s behaviour and Neville looked like he preferred to be in his bed already.
Harry couldn’t deny that he would like to be in his bed too. However, first things first. He took out his wand, just in case Malfoy stormed into the room with Crabbe.
The fact that the Slytherins haven’t shown up yet was a bit confusing, though. Normally they were always and everywhere on time. Ron even suggested they had chickened out.
The trophy room was filled with crystal cases; cups, plates, shields and statues were standing proudly inside them. Harry walked around the room and watched the silver and golden trophies. He stopped for a moment by a case holding a shield with his father’s name on it; that was a reward for flying with the Gryffindor Quidditch team. McGonagall told him that his father played Quidditch too, but seeing this trophy made him feel proud.
Finally he really felt he belonged in this world – he was sorted into the same house as his parents, there were still teachers in Hogwarts who remembered his parents and now he was going to be on Gryffindors Quidditch team, just like his father. Suddenly, Harry had a feeling that everything was the way it should be. He was definitely satisfied he didn’t shake hands with Malfoy, that day on Hogwarts Express. He had his friend – it was Ron – and he honestly didn’t know why Draco even tried to be his friend if he started hating him the same day they got to school.
All of a sudden he heard voices in the next room. The four of them went silent to listen if it was really Malfoy, but to their biggest surprise it wasn’t.
‘My good luck has officially run out for today,’ thought Harry when he realised the person in the next room was Filch, and the man was obviously looking for students who were out of bed.
He waved madly at his friends to follow him quickly and they scurried toward the door and onto the corridor. They managed in the last moment. All four of them walked silently and as fast as possible down a gallery full of suits of armours. They could still hear Filch’s voice, but at least they were moving forward and closer to the Gryffindor Tower. Unfortunately, Neville couldn’t calm down his nerves, squeaked and broke into a run. To make things worse, he tripped and grabbed Ron, dragging him with him into the suits of armours.
‘Brilliant,’ Harry thought annoyed. He was getting really angry right now – not only did he not get the chance to duel with Malfoy, but they were now very close to being caught. Why couldn’t they all stay in the common room and let him and Ron go alone? He could feel his growing anger and it gave him a sudden rush of excitement.
“Run!” he yelled and they sprinted down the gallery.
After a while, none of them even tried to look behind to check if Filch was following them; all they could think about was to run and get as far away from the trophy room as possible. They run through one of the doors to a corridor and then to another corridor; they ran past so many stairs and doors that they already lost track of where they were. Finally they ran into a passage hidden behind one of the tapestries and ended on the corridor not far from their Charms classroom. Now, they were safe; there was no possible way Filch would find them there.
“We’ve made it,” said Ron trying to catch his breath “Now we have to get back to Gryffindor tower, fast.”
“I told you,” said Hermione to Harry. “Malfoy tricked you. He never planned to show up. He told Filch we’d be in the trophy room.”
“I know,” answered Harry. Of course he knew, it was obvious, and he was mad now; not at Malfoy, though – he was mad at himself for falling for the blonde’s plan. “Let’s go.”
Going back to their common room wasn’t going to be that easy, though. They ran into Peeves on their way and the bloody poltergeist wouldn’t let them go; he was delighted to see students breaking school rules. Unfortunately for them, Peeves started yelling about first-years being out of bed, which alarmed Filch.
“Move!” shouted Harry and they broke into a run once more.
They could hear Filch getting closer when they stopped in front of a locked door. Ron tried to open it, but with no luck.
“Now we’re doomed,” the red head moaned with resignation “He’s going to catch us.”
“Move over,” snarled Hermione, took out her wand and whispered the unlocking spell.
Thankful that the girl remembered the spell, Harry took her hand and rushed inside the room along with Ron and Neville. The moment they locked the door behind them, they heard Filch talking with Peeves.
Normally they couldn’t stand the annoying poltergeist, but it seemed they were lucky, because he didn’t tell the caretaker anything. It looked like Peeves wanted to annoy Filch more than he wanted to put them in trouble, so they were lucky.
To Harry’s surprise, the man didn’t even try to check the room they were hiding in, but that was good for them. Maybe good luck hasn’t left them yet, after all.
“Neville get off!” said Harry when the other boy’s behaviour got on his nerves. Neville has been tugging on his bathrobe’s sleeve for the last few minutes, but he wouldn’t say a word. “What is it?”
Suddenly all of them looked in the same direction terrified Neville was staring and they froze.
Before them, stood a huge dog with three heads. It was standing still and staring at them, but even then it looked terrifying – it had long fangs and its paws were big enough to kill all of them in one strike. The beast was clearly surprised by their sudden appearance and after a moment it started growling at them. They knew very well, those growls were meant to scare them, and they did.
Harry quickly glanced at his fellow Gryffindors and saw the same horror in their eyes as he felt. Judging the situation, he decided he chose being caught by Filch rather than dying here. He grabbed the doorknob and they all ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
Fortunately for them, Filch was nowhere to be seen, so they sprinted straight to their common room.
As soon as they got into the Gryffindor tower, they collapsed into armchairs and panted heavily from their run. Ron was ranting about stupidity of keeping such a thing in school while Neville looked too shocked to speak at all.
“Don’t you use your eyes or are you all blind?” Hermione snapped. “It was standing on a trapdoor. It’s guarding something, obviously.”
After that she stormed up the stairs and into the girls’ dormitory.
“No one asked her to go with us,” mumbled Ron and followed Harry and Neville to their own dorms.

Harry had a hard time falling asleep that night. All the excitement of the day had tired him of; not to mention the awful end of the day and meeting with the three headed dog.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what Hermione said. She might seem bossy but she definitely was a good observant – the huge dog was guarding something. Harry had a feeling the little package Hagrid took from vault 713 at Gringott’s on the day of his birthday was hidden in the school. Now it all made sense – he was told that there was no safer place than Hogwarts so it was only logical to hide here something as important as Hagrid claimed the little package to be. That, however, made Harry come up with new questions – what was that little important thing and why it needed to be protected by the three headed dog if it was already safely in Hogwarts.
Hearing that all of his fellow Gryffindors in the room were already sleeping, he forced himself to sleep. He closed his eyes and waited to drift off into the dreamland.
Not sure when he had fallen asleep, he opened his eyes and realised he was in a familiar room. It was the same chamber he’d been in a few months ago; before he found out he was a wizard, to be exact.
He walked around the nursery and noticed nothing has changed here; it was exactly the way he remembered it. There was a baby crib and toys scattered on the floor.
Harry sat down on the carpet and looked at the toys.
It all made more sense now, than it had before. He was in a magical baby’s nursery and those were magical toys. The small figures of lions looked so much like the Gryffindor lion; and the small broomstick made him wonder if magical babies could even fly on a broom.
Then it hit him – would his room look like that if his parents never died? He’d give a lot to be able to live, at least one day, the way he would if his parents were still there with him.
Suddenly he felt sad, stood up and sat on one of the sofas.
Harry was satisfied he finally proved to everyone he belonged into the wizarding world; he even made a few friends already – because he could definitely call Ron his friend; he wasn’t quite sure about Hermione, Neville and other Gryffindors yet, but he was closer with them than he ever was with anyone in the Muggle world. So why did he have this strange feeling that he was missing something? It was weighing heavily on him. Was it because he missed his parents or having a family at all?
He couldn’t understand why Voldemort attacked his family; why did he try to kill him? Harry wanted answers, but no one gave him any. Even Hagrid didn’t explain him why a dark wizard destroyed his family. Did he have something Voldemort wanted? Was that something the reason why everybody thought him to be some great wizard? Did Malfoy want that mysterious something as well; was that why he tried to befriend him? If that was it, Harry decided that when he finds out what it is, he will never give it to them.
Unconsciously, Harry leaned backwards into something that crept silently behind him. He closed his eyes once more and relaxed in the warm feeling embracing him.
Now, he felt at ease; everything seemed to be in its place. Harry didn’t understand this feeling, but it was pleasant. He opened his eyes to see what it was that made him calm down.
Before his eyes was a dark figure, more or less the same height as his. He couldn’t see its face and body at all, because it was wrapped in something that looked like a black cloak that shimmered slightly with every move the figure made. Though, Harry wasn’t afraid of this mysterious person at all.
“You’re always here with me,” he said, not expecting any reply, but to his surprise the figure nodded. “You hear me…you understand me?”
The dark person nodded again and waited for his reaction.
“You know what this place is?” Harry tried asking and received another nod. “Can you show me then?”
The figure stood up in one swift move and grabbed the boy’s hand. Harry was a bit nervous when he saw they were heading towards the door; in his previous dream he never left this room and he wasn’t sure what to expect behind it; but he thought he could trust his companion.
When the door opened he saw a long corridor with many doors. The walls, similarly to the nursery, were covered with wooden wainscot and beige tapestry; on the floor there was a long red carpet, embroidered with beige and golden threads. As they walked down the corridor he noticed a lot of old paintings hanging between the locked doors; the weird thing was, he couldn’t see the people on the portraits, he saw only their shapes but without their faces, which was a bit unsettling.
“Are we here alone?” he asked, suddenly realising how big this house was; it seemed a bit odd for such a wonderful place to be abandoned.
His companion looked at him without answering his question.
“You don’t know,” he asked when they stopped by the grand staircase. “Or do you not want to tell me?”
The dark figure madly shook its head, desperate to show Harry they could trust each other.
Then Harry’s silent guide rushed him towards the wide, mahogany stairs; they were brightly lit by an old chandelier. He looked down and saw they were at the second floor, and there was at least one floor underground and one above them. A moment later, he thought he heard something; he heard movement downstairs.
“So there is someone here,” Harry looked at the dark figure and ran down the stairs holding its hand.
They stopped at the ground floor, before grand, old main entrance to the mansion. Yes, now he could call it that way; the building was too big and too grand to be called a house. It wasn’t as big as Hogwarts of course, but it was still at least three times bigger than the Dursleys’ house. The entrance was flanked by tall windows and he could see a big and beautiful garden surrounding the property.
“Seriously, what is this place?” he asked again, but all his companion did was lightly squeeze his hand.
A sudden sound of opening door could be heard and Harry rushed into its direction. He walked into a big and expensively decorated parlour; there was a fireplace, three sofas in the middle and some tables and cabinets; on one of the walls there were many tall windows showing the garden before the building, while on the opposite site Harry saw opened door leading to a terrace and the back garden. He walked closer to it and saw the mansion was located in the middle of what looked like an old forest, but what interested him the most were a few white figures wandering in the backyard. He couldn’t recognize them, but he felt as if he knew them.
“I know them, don’t I?” Harry asked the dark figure next to him and it nodded.
“Harry!” he heard someone call him and a strange feeling something was dragging him away from his silent companion.
“Harry, wake up!” he opened his eyes and saw Ron standing by his bed and tugging at his sleeve.
“Alright, alright I’m up,” said Harry and searched for his glasses on his night table.
Satisfied he managed to wake up Harry on time, Ron left the dormitory to wait for him in the common room.
“A nightmare?” Harry heard a sudden question and looked around the room to see who asked it. He saw a blue eyed boy with medium length wavy brown hair – Phelan Noel, their first-year fellow Gryffindor – standing at the other end of the room and watching him closely.
“What?” Harry asked confused.
“Did you have a nightmare?” the other boy repeated still staring at Harry.
“No,” he answered and smiled to himself “it was a rather nice dream, before Ron woke me up.”
“Oh,” Phelan seemed a bit surprised by the answer and at the same time amused, which confused Harry even more.
“Why do you ask? Did I talk in my sleep?”
“No,” the brown haired boy smiled and headed to the door “You’d better hurry or you’re going to miss breakfast.”
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Harry Potter and the wizarding world