Mudsnake (Harry Potter Muggleborn!Slytherin!SI)

[Ghostcraft19]

Good chapter

 

[Fulcon]

Good chapter

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Thanks!

I'm pretty proud of it.

 

[Cybork]

So far it's pretty good. I'm not sold on the whole keeping the fact he's muggleborn secret thing. He can't be the first one to get into Slytherin. Plus it would get out eventually. Having to deal with the hate and succeed regardless would make for a more interesting story that having to juggle increasingly complex lies.

The butterflies are flapping, which is always good. Will Dumbledore notice the stone is gone? Will the MC pilfer it from Harry's trunk? The trio might be able to convince the twins to assist in levitating Quirrel's turban in the middle of the Great Hall. Eventually they're going to tell Dumbledore about the letter, wonder what he'll make of it. Hopefully there aren't any forensics charms he can use to figure out who wrote it.

 

[Reimigueru]

The wing was broken because Quirell had used it first, and broken it by being a brute. The going forwards potion had 1 dose because Quirell had already drank the other dose. So 2 plot holes right there.
Also, did Pettigrew see the letter? Because if so, he can steal the Philosopher's Stone and give to Voldemort, ressurecting him early.

 

[Fulcon]

So far it's pretty good. I'm not sold on the whole keeping the fact he's muggleborn secret thing. He can't be the first one to get into Slytherin.

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First one in a while, maybe. Since Voldemort's arrival, at least.

Plus it would get out eventually. Having to deal with the hate and succeed regardless would make for a more interesting story that having to juggle increasingly complex lies.

Click to shrink...

I could see that.

The butterflies are flapping, which is always good. Will Dumbledore notice the stone is gone? Will the MC pilfer it from Harry's trunk? The trio might be able to convince the twins to assist in levitating Quirrel's turban in the middle of the Great Hall. Eventually they're going to tell Dumbledore about the letter, wonder what he'll make of it. Hopefully there aren't any forensics charms he can use to figure out who wrote it.

Click to shrink...

Great questions! I confess I don't have answers regarding the forensics charms, I was going with the canon worldbuilding detail of 'wizards suck at logic' so I could have a plot and cover my butt. Because when you go too into depth, you actually lose the ability to write anything at all, and I'd rather you guys have an admittedly imperfect story to read over nothing at all.

The wing was broken because Quirell had used it first, and broken it by being a brute.

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What are you talking about, I removed that issue when I revised the chapter...and the letter!

*goes back over notes*

Oh, that's dumb. Missed a spot. Okay, I'll fix it.

EDIT: Fixed in the master and in QQ.

The going forwards potion had 1 dose because Quirell had already drank the other dose.

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Actually, I re-read Sorcerer's Stone, and didn't see any mention of the bottle being almost empty. It had one dose because the bottle is really small.

So 2 plot holes right there.

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One plot hole, thank you very much. Don't be rude.

Also, did Pettigrew see the letter? Because if so, he can steal the Philosopher's Stone and give to Voldemort, ressurecting him early.

Click to shrink...

No, because Hermione's holding it.

 

[Fulcon]

The following is a fan-based work of fiction. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. Please support the official release.

---

"I knew you had it in you."

"Shut up."

"Throwing compliments in the giver's face is poor form."

"Yeah, well, complimenting someone on a thing they're mad at themselves for is also poor form."

"Ah, but you have no right to be mad!" Merlin said with a sly smile while stroking that stupid beard of his. "Why, you're almost proficient in Occlumency. Another year or two and you'll be a master!"

"That's what you were talking about?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No, you had it right the first time. I was congratulating you on taking the first steps to accomplishing your idealized ambition," Merlin answered with a cheeky grin. "Becoming a hero by doing the right thing even when it costs you something!"

"But this way, no one will know I'm the one who helped," I pointed out, my eyes widening in the agony of thwarted dreams. "Stupid conscience!"

"That's just proof you've grown as a person," Merlin replied. "And you've still got more growth in you."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, glaring and frowning at him like he just pissed on my dinner. "How's that?"

"It still wounds your pride to dodge recognition and validation," Merlin answered. "You know, by being safe while you're doing the right thing. Only thing for it is to keep doing exactly that."

I blinked. "Wait...by being safe. I could just go out and do this openly."

"You couldn't have gotten the stone," Merlin rebutted.

"I could've worked with Harry and the trio," I said, standing up, annoyed with myself. "I could've just done that directly!"

"And what would've happened if you had done that?" Merlin asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh...well, Sirius Black would be let out and Pettigrew would take his place," I said, continuing on. "Because they could use Legilimency to confirm everything I know is legitimate." More ideas. "They'd go down and kill the Basilisk! They'd hunt down the Horcruxes and destroy them, defeating Voldemort. Hagrid would have his expulsion revoked, meaning he could own and use a wand again."

I was practically giddy. "I'd be a sensation. The Boy Who Knew!"

Merlin's head tilted, while he grinned the devil's grin. "With this Ministry?"

That stopped me cold in my tracks.

"Maybe you could get Hagrid's expulsion revoked," Merlin allowed, nodding as if he were lightly stamping documents with approval. "But to allow Sirius and Pettigrew to switch places would be to admit there was no trial and that they had made a horrendous mistake. To admit that Voldemort even has Horcruxes is to admit that he's still a problem. And if what I've seen of the books in your mind is correct, old wizarding families, such as the Malfoys, are Cornelius Fudge's greatest donors."

I was blinking. "Okay, secrecy really is the optimal play here."

"Secrecy and learning your blades in the dark," Merlin replied. "But at the same time, being optimal does not produce heroes, we both know that." He looked down at me, boring into my skull with an intensity that made my hairs stand up on end. "So tell me. When it comes to the heart of a hero, what do you lack?"

I blinked, frowning, cupping my chin. "I could be a harder worker. I get too distracted by Quidditch."

Merlin looked so unimpressed, it crossed over into disappointment. "Quidditch is training spatial awareness in a three-dimensional environment, physical conditioning, teamwork and coordination, sharper reflexes and high-stress flying. It could only be more pertinent to your goals if it somehow included dueling. Try again."

Oh. Well. Uh…

"I could be smarter," I offered. "I'm not as confident about the exams as I would like to be."

"Boy, you're spending most of your free time learning Occlumency and Legilimency, and are approaching proficiency in as little as a school year," Merlin replied. "This after never having practiced magic before in your life. You have thought about, in detail, ways to actually accomplish what you saw in the Mirror of Erised while others can only waste away, yearning for a future they cannot have."

I shrugged. "I'm not selfless. I didn't warn anyone not to go to the dungeons when the troll was there."

"Oh, come off it," Merlin snapped at me. "You knew they'd be fine," he continued folding his arms in front of him. "Out of all the ways to chase glory, wealth and power, you chose the path of saving and preserving life. An elegant marriage of ambition and compassion, I'd say."

"Then tell me," I said, angry. "I don't like getting wrong answers."

"You lack courage."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Instead of going for the Stone yourself, you instead mobilized the people who you knew could do it," Merlin replied.

"Well, yeah!" I said. "Because I want to use the stone, and I couldn't get it out of the mirror!"

"And why not?"

"Because I want to use it!"

"I know you want to use it! Why?"

"Because!"

"Because?"

Finally, I truly snapped. "Because I don't want to die again!"

Merlin hummed, tapping his chin and smirking. "And so we're getting somewhere. How did you die the first time?"

"I was on a cruise ship," I explained. "It was late, I was tired, and I fell overboard and drowned." Then, I glared at the old coot. "So, it would've been counterproductive for me to stand before the mirror, because the mirror wouldn't have given the stone to me, because the only thing I would be able to think about is how I could use it, because I never want to die again!"

Once that tirade was over, I was panting and gritting my teeth. "Do you really need me to spell it out for you?"

"No," said he. "You've done an adequate job."

"So I wouldn't call that cowardice," I said.

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. "I didn't say you were a coward. I said you lacked courage." He leaned closer within his portrait. "If you had courage, you would not fear death, and thus not need the elixir of life and you would've been able to get it for yourself."

...well...no...that's not…

"And, well," Merlin continued. "The kind of hero you wish to be doesn't fear death. Respect, certainly, but never fear."

Through glaring eyes, I asked, "yeah? Well, what's the difference?"

"Respect does not stop one from acting."

---

The return to the Slytherin common room was marked by my heavy footfalls. Deliberately heavy, as if I was hoping to shake the castle walls just by walking, with the vain belief that the rumble would, at least, make me feel better.

Merlin's just dumb. He's just a painting, and I don't know why I held his word in such high regard. He's only there to teach me Occlumency and Legilimency, I won't be seeing him again once I've mastered the pair.

Anyway. I spoke the password and out came Lysander Voss, seventh year, Hogwarts Head Boy. Pale skin, shaven head and bright emerald eyes that shone like gems. When he saw me, he glared and hissed through gritted teeth. "Out of my way, Sullivan."

Of course, I stepped aside. As Head Boy, he is the one person inside the Slytherin house who is aware of my status as muggle-born. While he's been forbidden by Professor Dumbledore and Snape from saying anything, he makes absolutely sure that I know what he thinks of me. I figure as long as the rest of the house doesn't treat me like that, my secret is safe.

Inside, I saw Draco, glaring down the entrance with an odd fury glinting behind those eyes. "He's kind of a prick, isn't he?"

"He's got his reasons, I'm sure," I replied.

Then, he looked at me with a measure of disdain. "You're too bloody nice, Sullivan."

"It's a curse."

"I'll say," Draco replied. "Now, remember, if you don't pass your exams, all our Quidditch practice will be for nothing because you'll be disqualified from attending the second year."

"Yeah. I'm feeling pretty competent in regards to potions," I said, grinning slightly. "Professor Snape said I've got the best Sleeping Draught in the class."

"That doesn't matter," Draco rebutted, waving it off. "Professor Snape's always generous to us during exams."

He needs to stop that. That kind of cheating is like winning the battle but losing the war.

"What you need is to make sure your transfiguration is up to snuff," Draco continued, ignorant of my internal snark. "The old bat, McGonagall, does not mess around. You can turn a spider into a die cube, right?"

I nodded.

Daphne came up behind him and said, "and I saw him do the levitation charm earlier."

He jumped and whirled on her, angry at the surprise. "So?" Draco asked. "That's one of the first things we learned. Flitwick's not going to be impressed."

"Wandlessly."

That froze Draco on the spot, and he turned toward me like an empty suit of armor being slotted back into place. "What."

I shrugged, and did a few hand signs to lift a candle-bearing skull up off the nearby table.

Draco looked disappointed. "Oh. Uagadou magic. My father's told me about it. Professor Flitwick's not going to pass you on a party trick."

Come on, that took me weeks to learn how to do that!

"Well, I thought it was neat," Daphne said, folding her arms and glaring at him.

"And you were wrong."

It was time to cut in. "Stop, that's enough. Draco, I'm still going to show him, just for the extra credit."

Slowly, he started nodding. "Good idea," he said. "Need every point you can get."

Then, I turned to Daphne. "And thank you for the compliment. It took me weeks to pull it off."

She grinned, hopping onto the table and kicking her legs while looking at me. "And that was time well spent." She leaned forward. "What else can you do?"

"Just that," was my answer. "Eventually, though, I'm going to be able to cast all my spells that way."

"That's amazing," Daphne breathed.

Draco sharply frowned. "Seems like a lot of work. We use wands for a reason."

Up the stairs came Vincent and Greg.

"Oh, there you are," I said, raising a wave as they walked up to their customary positions as Draco's bodyguards. "How's it going?"

"Studying for exams," Vincent said.

"You think we can put some pressure on Quirrell?" Greg asked, looking between Draco and I. "He's such a mouse, we could persuade him to be generous with his grades."

Draco just shook his head. "No. We've no leverage on him."

"What if we knew what was under the turban?" Vincent suggested.

Suddenly, my blood ran cold. I've got zero interest, whatsoever, in...in...wait.

I mean…

Nope, terrible idea. Not doing it.

"There is no way there's blackmail material under a turban," Daphne stated, as a knee-jerk reaction. Come to think of it, I don't feel like there's anything under there."

Come on, say it. I need to say it.

"You mean he's bald?" Vincent asked, his nose scrunching up. "That's not leverage."

Draco shook his head to agree.

Daphne tilted her head, squinting. "No, it's...more like blank. I feel like there is literally nothing under there."

SAY IT!

"Sounds like –" I stopped dead in my tracks, manufacturing a coughing fit.

The group was looking at me.

"Well?" Vincent asked, folding his arms.

"Well, what?" I asked, pretending to recover.

"You were about to say something," Daphne said, arching an eyebrow. "And it's very pertinent to the turban."

"Come on, spit it out, mate," Draco demanded.

I don't wanna.

"Marcus." Greg placed a hand on my shoulder, either to steady me, or to intimidate me. A little of both. "We'd really like to hear what you have to say."

Ah, crap.

Well...okay. Here goes nothing.

"Daphne, are you skilled at divination?" I asked.

Her expression went flat. "Don't change the subject," she said. "I mean, my parents certainly think so, but don't change the subject."

"The reason you think there's a flat void under the turban is because of counter-charms," I said.

"Oh." Her eyes went wide. "Oh! Oh…"

Vincent got an odd twinkle in his eye. "So, there is something."

"And if there really is something underneath, it's an 'expose him to the school and get rewarded' sort of thing. Dark magic, probably," I said, in a desperate bid to make sure we did whatever we were going to do in the presence of Dumbledore. "Besides, trying to blackmail a teacher is a horrifically bad idea."

"Oh yeah?" Vincent said. "Why is that?"

"Because it's our word against his," I pointed out. "We've got no leverage or anything that incentivizes people to believe us."

"Right," Draco said. "But still, now I'm extra curious. How much you want to bet we can get the Gryffindors to try something?"

My voice was a little bit too high when I responded. "And let them get the points?"

"Ew, never mind," Draco said. "Still, I wonder what we'd have to do to get it?"

"There's a potion I saw for sale in that potion store in Knockturn Alley," Daphne suggested. At my confused expression, she elaborated. "You've never been there, but it's just a short step away from Diagon Alley. Lots of magical items for sale that are actually useful." She turned to everyone else.

Never been to Diagon, either, actually...

"And what does the potion do?" Greg asked, his face screwed up in confusion.

"Dispels charms and enchantments," Daphne replied. "It's a cursebreaker's potion. You just pour it on the object and then all its protections or curses disappear."

Vincent got this triumphant expression. "Nice!"

"Doesn't always work," Daphne qualified. "Especially if it's really big or powerful. But a turban?"

"I could ask for the potion to be picked up," Draco said, the smile on his face widening. "Have it here before Wednesday!"

...you're kidding.

I was thinking they wouldn't be able to come up with something they could actually do as first years, but it turns out they've got access to the most powerful magic of all; money.

"Uh…" I rose a finger into the sky. "Let the record show that this is a terrible idea and I do not approve."

"Well, that's too bad, isn't it Sullivan?" Draco said, grinning from ear to ear. "Because you're going to be taking the turban off after we soak it."

"Wha–?"

"Well, we want plausible deniability," Daphne said, turning her head in what seemed like embarrassment. "In case it's really bad and gets us in trouble."

"And you're the lowest on the totem pole," Vincent continued, in the lowest voice I've ever heard from him. "So you get to do it."

"No!" I said, standing up and glaring at all of them. "I am putting my foot down, here. Absolutely not! I will have nothing to do with this whatsoever!"

Vincent glared, and stood up, only for Draco to sigh. "Fine. Be difficult, then."

"Such a killjoy," Daphne said, folding her arms and pouting.

I just stood up to the most important kid in my year and made him back down.

…

Take that, Merlin.

---

Author's Note: Hey, you guys have really been blowing the thread up with comments! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it, truly!

We're reaching the end of everything I've got prepared so far; 11 chapters. This is chapter 7, so...once that's over with, uploads will pause while I work through Chamber of Secrets.

As a note: If you are an artist, AI Aficionado, or are otherwise good with visual media, you have open permissions to adapt my writing to your work. I am flat broke and cannot pay you, so please only do this if it strikes your fancy. Just be sure to give me credit and send it my way!

Until the next time!

~Fulcon

 

[Emptiness]

Well, given that the Turban is vulnerable to snowballs, this has a concerning possibility of working.

 

[Fulcon]

Well, given that the Turban is vulnerable to snowballs, this has a concerning possibility of working.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, I'd say so. It's pretty bad.

 

[Pax Humana]

LOL

And Merlin is wrong about courage. Courage is the ability to proceed despite your fear. The more afraid you are, the more courage you have if you keep going. Even if the fear is misplaced, that still takes courage. Someone deathly afraid of drowning going for a swim might call for huge courage.

Someone walking across a rope bridge, intellectually aware that the ropes have been recently checked and that others have gone across it, might still be scared of going across. Doing so anyway requires courage.

This is why I think Ron was often fearless, not courageous. And why Hermione was courageous.

 

[Fulcon]

And Merlin is wrong about courage.

Click to shrink...

Have a cookie.

Now, I'm going to use your post as an excuse to talk about my perspective on courage, fear, respect, whatever. Because Merlin's perspective is my perspective.

When someone is afraid of death, what do we characterize that as? Running, hiding, fighting tooth and nail to avoid death. Obviously, this is a perfectly healthy drive, I'm not arguing that.

One definition of Courage, as you have said, is the ability to proceed in spite of your fight, flight, freeze and fawn response. That, however, is not the definition Merlin or I am using.

Consider an alligator tamer. Is he afraid of alligators? No. Is he aware that they could bite and snap his arm off in the literal blink of an eye? Yes. Does that stop him from being an alligator tamer? No. Does he completely ignore all best practice to avoid getting his arm snapped off in the blink of an eye just because he's not afraid? No.

Because he respects the alligator.

Now replace the alligator with death. Are most people afraid of death? Yes. Are they aware it could happen at any moment? Yes. Does that stop them from going into the world and doing what needs to be done? No. But, if they were not afraid, would they abandon all best practice to avoid death? No.

Because someone who stopped being afraid of death still respects it.

Now, realistically, very few people get to this point. This is my opinion on where the classical view of courage comes from.

In my opinion, Harry got to this point. In my opinion, it is part of how he defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. A huge part. He accepted death, and as a result was able to master the Elder Wand.

And, in my opinion, this is what separates heroes from normal people like you and I.

 

[Pax Humana]

Have a cookie.

<snip> Now replace the alligator with death. Are most people afraid of death? Yes. Are they aware it could happen at any moment? Yes. Does that stop them from going into the world and doing what needs to be done? No. But, if they were not afraid, would they abandon all best practice to avoid death? No.

Because someone who stopped being afraid of death still respects it.

Now, realistically, very few people get to this point. This is my opinion on where the classical view of courage comes from.

In my opinion, Harry got to this point. In my opinion, it is part of how he defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. A huge part. He accepted death, and as a result was able to master the Elder Wand.

And, in my opinion, this is what separates heroes from normal people like you and I.

Click to shrink...

When I say Merlin was wrong, I was not meaning the story is wrong as well. Characters being wrong at times is a good thing for any story and this is especially true for smart characters.

And when people stop being afraid of death, they often do start being reckless and abandon all best practice to avoid death. People stopped being afraid of measles and other diseases that were eradicated or almost so, thanks to vaccines, becoming so reckless they abandoned best practices on vaccination. This has caused a whole lot of sickness and deaths.

Harry became reckless and suicidal in the end. This is why a number of people don't consider him to be a hero but a victim there. He didn't just accept death. He sought it, particularly after Dumbledore and Snape groomed him for that role.

Regardless of our disagreement on these 2 points, I am still loving the story so there's no fear on that score. Thank you for sharing your perspective.

 

[Fulcon]

The following is a fan-based work of fiction. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. Please support the official release.

---

Never before had I ever wished for exams to hurry up and get here as I did this week.

Oh, we had homework. I made sure to get it done. They were a little restless, waiting for the cursebreaker potion.

Hadn't the foggiest idea why, until Daphne finally explained it to me.

"You know how many students have tried to knock that turban off?" she had said to me. "Those stupid Weasley twins have tried at least half a dozen times. Imagine the looks on everyone's face when a bunch of Slytherins succeed!"

"But you know Quirrell had an encounter with dark forces on that trip he took," I remember saying. "What if he brought it back with him!"

"Then we'll be rewarded for exposing him, won't we?" Daphne said, obviously not seeing any problem whatsoever.

And that was the end of it.

Sometimes I'd pass Quirrell in the halls. His acting was, in a word, great. He really did seem the nervous, stuttering wreck that acted the doormat to the rest of the students. I wondered if he wasn't channeling the terror of displeasing the eyes in the back of his head into it, making it genuine.

He really has eyes in the back of his head. A whole face, actually. That is just gross. Voldemort hiding in his turban makes Quirrell a literal two-faced traitor.

… wait, that's the joke.

Huh.

---

Professor Snape kept me after potions. "Mr. Sullivan, you seem unusually distraught," he had said. "You've been skipping meals, without supplementing it with spurious visits to the kitchen. What's wrong?"

I blinked. "You knew about that?"

"The faculty is well aware of your business on the seventh floor," Professor Snape replied, fixing me with an annoyed glance. "I applaud your resourcefulness, and Professor Dumbledore has ordered that you not be disturbed." Ah, that...actually explains a lot. "Now, if you'll return to the question."

If I squeal, my social life in the Slytherin House is over. "It's nothing that the staff can help with. It's not like anyone besides Lysander knows about my parentage and he's just a little rude." I looked up from my hands, staring at his nose, not his eyes. "It's just the exams. I'm a Muggle-born. Isn't there a reason we're looked down upon by most wizards?"

Snape groaned, closing his eyes so he could collect his thoughts. "I'm afraid such things are not so binary."

"What do you mean?" I asked, grateful that I was spared the pressure to look him in the eye.

"As much as it pains me to admit, the finest witch in your year is Granger, who is so far ahead of the rest that she's already studying second-year material," Snape replied. "She is proof that blood status isn't everything, and you shouldn't allow concerns over it to dictate your beliefs about yourself." He cleared his throat. "As for myself, I am a half-blood. Many in Slytherin have doubted my magical abilities, and I have conclusively proved many of them wrong."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Oh."

"Many in the old families are simply afraid of losing their status in the wizarding world," Professor Snape continued, arching an eyebrow as he analyzed me. I got the sense he was trying to Legilimens me, but since I was looking at his nose, he couldn't quite get the eye contact he needed. "There are many other complications, feuds, beliefs about purity and power, but ultimately they all come down to the need to stand at the gate and repel those that would change things."

"But change is good," I protested.

He glared in annoyance. "Suppose a dragon comes and razes Hogwarts Castle. Would that be good?"

I shook my head. "No, sir."

"It would be an opportunity," Professor Snape stated. "We might rebuild the castle, rearrange rooms so that they are more to our liking. But all opportunities have a cost, and not every opportunity is worth the cost. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Now, go eat lunch," Snape ordered. "And if you tell anyone what I said today, you will have detention into your thirties."

"Yes, Professor!"

You know, that was really touching. I almost forgot that this is the guy who bullies Harry on a level Draco can only aspire to.

My stomach rumbled.

Right, Lunch.

---

So, I was sitting at the fire, doing some refresher on transfiguration – still can't quite figure out why the first swoop of the wand has to be so exact, while the second does not, when changing the needles back into matches – when Draco plopped into the chair across from mine in the glow of the fire.

He was triumphantly holding a bottle of shimmering, blue potion, the biggest grin on his face. "Guess what came by owl today?"

I frowned. "The thing you want me to expel myself with?"

"You wouldn't be expelled," Draco replied, grinning like an idiot as he looked into the swirling sparks within the bottle. I wondered what caused those? "You'll get a month of detention. At most. And it'll be worth it!"

...I wished I could cast Legilimens wandlessly to see what's going on in that empty, blonde head of yours, Draco.

Actually, that raises a good point.

"I don't really understand why you're so hesitant about this–"

– I should come up with a list of spells –

"– it's just a bit of harmless fun –"

– to work on casting wandlessly as soon as I learn th–

"And to think the whole school would be in our debt for exposing that dark magic," Draco slyly said. "Think of the Daily Prophet writing articles about us! The fan mail! The reward money!" he continued, giving me just the smallest hint of a glance out of the corner of his eye. "Which we'd let you keep, of course."

… well…I mean…

He was grinning from ear to ear as he gave his concluding statement. "You'd be a hero…"

I hate you so much, Malfoy. "Fine. Fine! I'll do it. Just tell me the plan."

"Crabbe and Greengrass are thinking over the details," Draco said happily, tossing and snatching the potion out of the air. "Since you're the one who wants to do this in front of Dumbledore, we're thinking of pulling it off in the great hall during one of the main meals. Lunch, most likely. Goyle says Quirrell doesn't come to breakfast sometimes and dinner even less."

Likely Voldemort business. Like sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest to gobble up Unicorn blood.

Actually, that's something to think about; can a Unicorn give its blood willingly? And if they do, does it keep the heavy curse placed on it by the Unicorn's death?

On cue, the portrait door opened and in walked Daphne and Vincent.

Draco regarded them with an arched eyebrow. "Well?"

"I asked Peeves," Daphne said, grinning widely. "He'll pour the potion on Quirrell's turban while he's walking to his seat in the Great Hall, and then Marcus can snatch the turban."

It was my turn to arch an eyebrow. "You couldn't ask him to take the turban too?"

"It's Slytherins' prank," Vincent replied. "If Peeves does the whole thing, he'll claim it himself to spite us."

"Come on, it's your moment, Marcus," Daphne said, still smiling. "You don't want to give it away, do you?"

Suddenly, I got the sneaking suspicion that Daphne is the one who gave Draco the idea to use the hero line. I should never have introduced them.

"By the way, Crabbe, have you seen Goyle?" Draco asked, looking around.

"He's in the toilet," Vincent answered, pointing back behind him. "He'll be along, lunch just didn't agree with him."

Draco blinked, repeatedly, in surprise. "But Goyle can eat anything."

Vincent just shrugged, and didn't comment further.

"Weird," Draco remarked.

Yeah, no kidding. He's usually a human garbage disposal, so I wonder what happened?

---

Harry sat at the table by the window while Hermione sat across from him, going over his homework. Since they had pulled off what felt like the heist of a century, Harry kept falling into these bouts of anxiety, however brief.

"Harry?"

Was the stone really safe? Yes. If Snape...or Quirrell, he guessed, went down to grab the stone, how long would it be before they realized it simply wasn't there? Or was that even a possibility?

"Harry."

Then there was the uncomfortable possibility that Dumbledore would go check on the stone and finds it missing.

"Harry!"

He snapped out of it. "What?"

"You lost focus again."

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Just…"

"Thinking about it, huh?" Ron asked from his seat by the fire.

Harry just nodded.

"Look, we all agreed that when the problem is solved, we would just turn it in," Hermione reminded them. "Then we just hope they don't expel us on the spot."

"It's not a big deal," Ron downplayed. "We just thought there wasn't enough being done, so we stepped in and took care of it. Totally harmless." He turned around and knelt on the couch, draping his arms over the back of the couch. "We didn't even use it."

"Not that we know how," Hermione added.

"Exactly," Ron said.

Harry responded by telling them about his concerns. By the time he was done, he was adding a new one. "And what if whoever's going for the stone starts searching the dorms?"

Ron's eyes were wide. "Bloody hell, I didn't even think about that."

Hermione took a deep breath. "And who'd think to search the dorm of a first year? You'd think they'd start with the seventh years, since they'd be the most likely ones to pull something like that off."

"The person who sent the letter, most likely," Harry said.

"We don't even know who sent it," Hermione said. "And no, it's not Dumbledore."

"How do you figure?" Ron asked.

"I checked out a copy of the original The Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood paper," Hermione said. "The one written by Professor Dumbledore. It had some of his notes in the margins, and the handwriting didn't match what was in the letter."

"Can I see?" Harry asked.

"Well, I don't have it checked out any more," Hermione replied.

"Where do you find the time to read so much, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"In this case, I went looking for it just to check the handwriting," Hermione said, her mouth tugging into a frown. "You could stand to read more yourself, Ronald."

"All work and no play makes Ron a dull boy," Ron replied, earning an eye roll from the girl. "Besides, if it's not Dumbledore, who else could it be?"

Hermione began extending fingers, counting them all one by one as she listed names. "It's not Snape, it's not Professor McGonagall, it's not Professor Dumbledore, it's not Quirrell, or Professor Flitwick or Professor Sprout."

"So it's not anyone we know at Hogwarts," Harry surmised. "Then...who?"

The portrait door opened, and the twins rolled in, both with stupidly large grins and excited looks in their eyes.

"So, have we got a story for you!" Fred said, rubbing his hands together. "We need to be in the great hall for lunch tomorrow."

Harry tilted his head with an inquisitive glance. "Why?"

"We heard it from Peeves," George began. "Apparently, the Slytherin first-years have arranged for a prank."

"That turban of his is enchanted –"

"– can't be knocked off or unwrapped at all–"

"– so the Slytherins got themselves a cursebreaker potion –"

"– and they enlisted Peeves' help to pour it on him!"

"And then one of the Slytherins is going to yank it off him!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked at each other, stunned.

"Th-that's brilliant, Fred. George," Harry replied, nodding.

Both Fred and George frowned and looked at each other funny before looking back at Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger.

"You don't seem that excited," Fred said.

"We've just… had a lot on our mind, recently," Hermione replied.

"Been wanting to see under Quirrell's turban for ages," Ron said, eyes wider than a dinner plate.

"No kidding," Harry added. "Any idea what's under there?"

"Fred thinks he's just bald," Fred said. Er...no, George?

"George thinks he's got a dragon sleeping on his head," George – no, that's Fred. Wait…

"Well, we know where we're going to be tomorrow," Harry said, and both Ron and Hermione began nodding.

"Just don't tell everyone," George – stop, that's Fred.

"Yeah, if the Baron finds out, it's getting called off," Fred – no. Yes. That's Fred. George! It's George.

Hermione frowned deeply. "Which one of you is Fred and which one of you is George?"

"I'm Fred and he's George," Gred and Feorge said in unison.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hid her face in her hands.

"We'll see you then," Harry said.

"Bye!" they both said, waltzing off to the fifth-year dorm.

"Well, guess we'll find out if the Letter's right about everything," Ron said.

Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line. "Indeed we will."

"Here's hoping," Harry replied. "It'd be the first good thing Malfoy's done all year."

Ron perked up. "Hear, hear!"
---

Author's Note: Well, I hope you guys enjoy. Those poor souls over at Ao3 are down for maintenance, so they'll get this chapter late. Ah well, best we can do is pray it goes without hiccups.

Until the next time!

~Fulcon

 

[Emptiness]

So, how many will perish once Voldemort has Quirrel cast Bombarda once he breathes fresh air? A nice explosion to draw the teacher attention to protecting the students, followed by trying to get off school grounds to apperate. Or perhaps going to the RoR or chamber of secrets.

 

[Fulcon]

Thank you for sharing your perspective.

Click to shrink...

And thank you for being chill about it. I'm not mad and I'm sorry if I gave you that impression.

Have a cookie.

So, how many will perish once Voldemort has Quirrel cast Bombarda once he breathes fresh air? A nice explosion to draw the teacher attention to protecting the students, followed by trying to get off school grounds to apperate. Or perhaps going to the RoR or chamber of secrets.

Click to shrink...

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe...

Have a cookie.

 

[Shota]

So, how many will perish once Voldemort has Quirrel cast Bombarda once he breathes fresh air? A nice explosion to draw the teacher attention to protecting the students, followed by trying to get off school grounds to apperate. Or perhaps going to the RoR or chamber of secrets.

Click to shrink...

Thanks for the chapter.
What if he does something even worse than that, he could just cast fiendfyre and let it goes berserk

 

[Emptiness]

Thanks for the chapter.
What if he does something even worse than that, he could just cast fiendfyre and let it goes berserk

Click to shrink...

Fiendfire would distract Dumbledore, but Bombarda would have all the teachers trying to save the wounded. Fiend fire would either be blocked or kill too quick. Plus, Voldy has some measure of a soft spot for Hogwarts.

 

[SIDoragon]

Wizarding world job economy is shit for muggleborn before Hermione gets her hands on it

Click to shrink...

You know, I'm more confused about what the economy actually looks like. They are wizards. They have low population numbers so mass production of anything is pointless, water is freely accessible, anything breaks you can repair it in an instant...so that is water and shelter taken care of. Food production is the only constant consumable they would need, so landowners are the only ones who could possible make money. There is the odd trinkets, toys and consumables, but nothing vital. The usual big ticket consumer items for us (furniture, transportation, etc) are either easy to acquire/maintain or not necessary. There is no innovation because there isn't a large population to require it.

How does anyone make money?

No wonder the general muggleborn population leave after graduation. It's easier to survive in the non-magical world. Start a repair business, or antiquate reseller, and you could earn some damn good money without having to worry about fake-nobles trying to tell you what to do.

 

[trashtaker]

You know, I'm more confused about what the economy actually looks like. They are wizards. They have low population numbers so mass production of anything is pointless, water is freely accessible, anything breaks you can repair it in an instant...so that is water and shelter taken care of. Food production is the only constant consumable they would need, so landowners are the only ones who could possible make money. There is the odd trinkets, toys and consumables, but nothing vital. The usual big ticket consumer items for us (furniture, transportation, etc) are either easy to acquire/maintain or not necessary. There is no innovation because there isn't a large population to require it.

How does anyone make money?

No wonder the general muggleborn population leave after graduation. It's easier to survive in the non-magical world. Start a repair business, or antiquate reseller, and you could earn some damn good money without having to worry about fake-nobles trying to tell you what to do.

Click to shrink...

Probably like how Tourist town functions.


They hate the Tourist that comes in there but needs the Tourist money to continue having a working economy

 

[Fulcon]

Thanks for the chapter.

Click to shrink...

You're welcome!

You know, I'm more confused about what the economy actually looks like.

Click to shrink...

Government jobs, sourcing potion ingredients, wands and other wizarding paraphernalia, books, novelty enchanted items, Quidditch tournaments. Basically, stuff that makes magic possible but can't be replicated with a wave of the wand.

Also, consider this headcanon that most witches and wizards may have skirted along with B's and C's and are thus not very good at magic beyond their specialization...and that specialization may be as narrow as 'magic cauldron that absorbs messes' or something.

No wonder the general muggleborn population leave after graduation.

Click to shrink...

Wait, that's a thing? Huh.

Probably like how Tourist town functions.

Click to shrink...

And tourist towns. I imagine that there's quite a few muggle parents of witches and wizards who LOVE buying fun wizarding knick-knacks.

 

[Pax Humana]

You know, I'm more confused about what the economy actually looks like. They are wizards. They have low population numbers so mass production of anything is pointless, water is freely accessible, anything breaks you can repair it in an instant...so that is water and shelter taken care of. Food production is the only constant consumable they would need, so landowners are the only ones who could possible make money. There is the odd trinkets, toys and consumables, but nothing vital. The usual big ticket consumer items for us (furniture, transportation, etc) are either easy to acquire/maintain or not necessary. There is no innovation because there isn't a large population to require it.

How does anyone make money?

No wonder the general muggleborn population leave after graduation. It's easier to survive in the non-magical world. Start a repair business, or antiquate reseller, and you could earn some damn good money without having to worry about fake-nobles trying to tell you what to do.

Click to shrink...

The secret is that Rowling is an idiot. She doesn't even understand a real world economy, much less how magic would affect wizard economics.

Though we do know that repairs aren't perfect. Even before we get into Dark Magic making things harder to fix, which may or may not be a big factor on anything, we see plenty of things in the books and films that aren't like new or even that clean. Remus, despite being a competent wizard, doesn't have the kind of good condition belongings that a competent wizard ought to. Now, thematically it's fine, that's meant to show, not tell, his poor status and self-image too. But it doesn't make sense if Reparo works as claimed.

Therefore, it doesn't. There is something we're missing and the simplest answer is Reparo doesn't work fully. It will work the first time but subsequent times seem to degrade. This might just be laziness/skill issue or it might be a limitation of the spell, eg it costs far more power to cast it perfectly so people cut costs and go for "good enough". Or some other problems.

There's also the Burrow and 12GP and a bunch of other things that also point toward that explanation of limits to repair magic.

Clothes are another thing you'd want made for yourself, as Ron complains about his hand-me-downs. So clothing industry is needed. Food you covered. Water I'd say you need more than an Aguamenti spell, needing plumbing, water supply and waste handling. Entertainment is still a need, not covered by magic, so you've got book authors, musicians, etc and their support jobs like librarians, bookshops, etc.

A lot of retail and service jobs would persist. Government jobs just expand as much as they can afford.. and a bit further

But for Muggleborns, the real world really is their best option. Much better money, wider social networks, better entertainment options and freer fashions. Money and freedom and cures for boredom are better if you don't shut out the real world for the Wizarding World.

Would you rather make 50k pounds per year with the time off you choose or work for a bigot for a fraction of the money and bad working conditions? It's no wonder the smart ones leave the goldfish bowl.

 

[Fulcon]

The secret is that Rowling is an idiot.

Click to shrink...

Ha! Though I wouldn't go that far. I'd call her 'differently specialized'.

There is something we're missing and the simplest answer is Reparo doesn't work fully.

Click to shrink...

Ooh! Headcanon time! Remus's mental health is in the toilet and has a hard enough time taking care of the things he owns. That, and if you can fix anything with a wave of a wand, why take care of anything?

It's the paradox of free stuff. You get things for free, you take it for granted. But if you pay for it, you care for it a great deal.

There's also the Burrow and 12GP and a bunch of other things that also point toward that explanation of limits to repair magic.

Click to shrink...

Oh, that's a good point. Maybe there's a skill issue, wizards with transfiguration magic are not necessarily great architects. But if you have magic, it doesn't matter!

...also they might not actually be that great at some spells. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, at least, leaves a lot of the difficulty behind casting spells to the imagination. The difficulty is implied with the sheer amount of study they have to do, having to adjust their focus, study the positions of the planets in the solar system, so on and so forth.

EDIT: Adjusted the example.

But for Muggleborns, the real world really is their best option. Much better money, wider social networks, better entertainment options and freer fashions. Money and freedom and cures for boredom are better if you don't shut out the real world for the Wizarding World.

Click to shrink...

I completely agree!

Would you rather make 50k pounds per year with the time off you choose or work for a bigot for a fraction of the money and bad working conditions? It's no wonder the smart ones leave the goldfish bowl.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, I figured Hermione wasn't all that smart. Get went into politics and changed everything.

I kid. Mostly.

EDIT: You also have to recall that the original Harry Potter was, well, written mostly tongue in cheek. It was a comedy in the style of British humor. The early Dursley Chapters are written in the same kind of spirit as Lemony Snicket, Wizarding money is a parody on old English money and it's bizarre exchange rates, Quirrell is a literal two-faced traitor. Later were built off of this comedic foundation, resulting in a world that's fascinating, but doesn't make much sense from a muggles (our) perspective.

 

[Pax Humana]

Quidditch was, apparently, a deliberately sabotaged invention. Rowling said she hates sport so she made Quidditch as f'ed up as she could, as stupid as possible.

There's definitely some British humour in it but I think it's more she tried putting in clever or "clever" references than it being mostly tongue in cheek but YMMV.

She's still an idiot, though. She couldn't be consistent, didn't really show any logic and not even a good writer. Her romance was offscreen. Her understanding of a lot of things is at best average.

And Hogwarts doesn't even teach much magic!

If you check, none of the classes seem to teach much in an entire year. I went through them for one of my own writing projects and.. there's barely anything at all. Some spells they wasted multiple months of an entire class on. Even if you double or triple the known magic for things that go unmentioned, there's still a real scarcity of learning.

All up, her muddled, messed up world-building provides hundreds of hours of work trying to un-fuck it which is fun for me but isn't so fun trying to understand it as she wrote it. I mean, what she wrote is a 3rd world hellhole with unbelievably bad corruption and oligarchy and racism, a stupidly bloated government sector, brainwashed and isolated populace and a school that barely qualifies as one. Sure, she was writing the British Boarding School tropes but she seems to think her Wizarding World wasn't a toxic tumour stuck in the middle of a nation that, though she Flanderized it, was still a smarter, wiser and safer place to live.

And these mistakes make it such a rich source for fanfiction. Fixing her shit provides so many authors the inspiration for their own, far better stories.

 

[cattolove]

This work is a very interesting read quite different from other SI fics , shame you didn't add the malfoid thred though

 

[Fulcon]

The following is a fan-based work of fiction. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. Please support the official release.

---

Today is the day that I die.

Well...probably.

Haven't been up to Merlin yet today. Got roped into the scheme after my Occlumency session yesterday afternoon.

I wonder what he'll say.

Good golly gosh, Marcus! I guess I was wrong, you really do have endless courage! I guess you really just need to try harder at this whole hero-thing!

I'm always right, Merlin. Just how it goes.

So here we are. Great hall was unusually packed this time for lunch, which means that Peeves had blabbed about the prank and everyone wanted to see. Including Dumbledore, I'm happy to note. Not entirely sure what he thinks is going to happen. Either he thinks his presence will dissuade us, or he's here to expel the jerks who played a prank on Professor Quirrell.

Professor Snape was there too.

And probably because he's curious about what's under the turban.

Two things can be true at once.

I was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, facing toward the halfway point between the door to the Great Hall and the rest of the table. From the staff room, it would look like I'm looking at the wall.

Draco was ostensibly doing his homework with the of bottle curse-breaker potion at his feet for Peeves to snatch when it was time. Crabbe and Goyle were flanking him, of course. Daphne was all excited grins, ready to watch the fireworks.

My best guess is that she thinks that he's just bald. Technically, I guess he was.

Two things can be true at once.

I know Peeves was circling the Slytherin table, because I could hear him lose control for just a moment, failing to stifle his giggles. Maybe he thinks that he was about to help get some students expelled. Not a bad guess.

Two things can be true at once.

Normally, Bloody Baron, who was sitting at the opposite corner of the table from me, would be all over Peeves for being annoying, but today he was pretending the poltergeist didn't exist. All the way at the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were helping themselves to a very large lunch. Next to them sat Neville Longbottom, of course, then the twins. Percy was eyeing me like a hawk, as if he had sussed out that I was to be the one who delivered the actual prank.

Then...the door opened. And there he was. Professor Quirrell. Immediately, he felt all the eyes on him, and he stopped. "Wh-wh-wh-what's going on?"

He didn't see the potion bottle flying over his head.

The bottle seemed to pour itself and I bolted from my seat. Quirrell's turban started to smoke, and I think I heard some coughing and spitting up from beneath it. At the edge of my hearing, Harry Potter screams, clutching at his scar like he'd just been branded.

Daphne frantically screams as it finally dawns on her diviner's mind what she had helped engineer. "Wait! Don't!"

Oh, no.

You don't get to set this up and walk away from the consequences.

...neither do I.

I jump up, snatch the turban off the back of his head, and am immediately greeted by the visage of Quirrell's second face.

Slanted, reptilian eyes, slits where nostrils should be and a mouth full of fangs.

I held up the turban to Lord Voldemort. "Got your nose!"

And ran as fast as my little-eleven-year old legs could carry me!

Out the great hall. Behind me, screams and panic filled the air, with Voldemort's own voice shrieking over the din. "Kill him!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

I jumped to the side even as an emerald bolt of light passed through where I had been not a second before, sending a chill down my spine and making my hair stand up straight.

...no.

Nonononononononononononononononononono…

I scrambled to my feet and kept running, trying to find the stairs. Gotta get away.

I AM NOT DYING AGAIN!

---

The great hall had been thrown into utter chaos.

The four banquet tables had been set alight and floated in a half-circle around the two-faced traitor to act as barriers between him and the rest of the Hogwarts staff.

For Dumbledore, what was to be an entertaining spectacle that assuredly was flirting with expulsion by a student who otherwise had a great and well behaved head on his shoulders had turned into perhaps the greatest unmasking he had ever witnessed.

And he had seen a few.

The tables collapsed to the ground as Quirrell quickly escaped out of the Great Hall.

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall cried, her hand trembling as she walked up to the marching Headmaster. "That couldn't have been – that wasn't –"

"I'm very afraid that it was, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said, waving his wand to extinguish and repair the burning furniture before returning them to their proper place. "Voldemort remains alive and has infiltrated the castle." He placed his wand to his throat. "All students are to remain in the great hall. All ghosts are to find any stray students and usher them here. All Professors save for Professors Flitwick and Snape are remain here and guard the student body. Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, you are with me! Filch, send an Owl to the Ministry! Immediately! Everyone else, remain calm."

For his part, Harry Potter had mostly recovered, sitting up straight and adjusting his glasses.

Ron, however, was stark white and speaking in halting, gawking rooster-speak. "You-know-who – here – in Hogwarts?"

Hermione was in tears, clutching the most fateful letter she had ever received in her hands so tightly that it was threatening to break apart.

On the opposite side of the Great Hall, the Slytherins were also reeling from the revelation.

"That was the Dark Lord," Draco said, eyes wide in shock, skin paler than was thought possible by some.

Daphne was also crying. "What did we do? What did we do? What did we do?"

"Huh," Vincent said. "S'pose we should've listened." He gestured toward the entrance. "When he said he didn't want to do it."

"How were we supposed to know?" Goyle asked. "I thought he was hiding a dragon or something."

"A dragon?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah, riding in his skull like a broomstick," Goyle confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. "Controlling his actions 'n stuff, you know?"

Draco threw his hands up in frustration. "I do not have time for your stupidity right now, Goyle!"

"What?"

Back with Harry and his friends, Hermione was speaking through sobs. "We have to tell Dumbledore about it. We have to –"

"Tell Dumbledore about what, Ms. Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked, walking up to them like a green-robed vulture.

The words fell out of Hermione's mouth like a waterfall. "We received a letter! Told us how to get the Philosopher's Stone!"

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, aghast.

Professor McGonagall started to sputter, her skin paling in absolute shock. "What is this? What are you talking about?"

"Here!" Hermione said, shoving the letter into the old woman's hand.

Her reactions to the contents of that letter were fairly similar to Harry's own, her eyes widening with every line she read, with the added bonus of her skin going pale. She folded the letter. "You three. Follow me. Now."

They stood up, the fear of death fully upon them.

McGonagall rounded on the rest of the students, her voice carrying anger the likes of which that would give anyone pause. "The rest of you remain! Here! And if any of you moves from your spot, every house will all be reduced to zero points!"

With that, the three first years found themselves having to jog to keep up with the Professor's brisk pace.

---

Third floor corridor, door to Fluffy's room. Open it, then shut it, and run away.

Hopefully he buys that.

As I ran around the corner and further up, I could hear the exchange of spells behind me.

"Do I look foolish to you, boy?" Quirrell's stutter was completely gone. "To go into that room is to get eaten alive!"

Well, crap. Still, at least Dumbledore's keeping pace and forcing him to slow down. Now where to try to throw him off?

Headmaster's office. Same trick, but more convincingly this time.

My legs were burning, my lungs were threatening to stop working and now of all days I desperately wished that I had my own broom...and that I knew the summoning charm. Or even better, the stunning charm.

But in spite of my vision growing blurry from the exertion, I pressed forward, until I hit the fourth floor, and realized that I was not going to be able to make it up to the office to pull my trick. I ducked into the Library.

There, Madame Pince looked up at me, arching an eyebrow. "Mr. Sullivan –"

"Shut up! Dark Wizard! After me! Everyone hide!"

And then I kept running, hoping to hide in the shelves. Predictably, Madame Pince got angry and began standing up to pursue me, wand out and prepared to hex me, but that's when the door to the library was blown open.

Well, I hope she's a good duelist, because if not, she's a dead woman.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Judging from the incantations being thrown around, they had both missed.

I might get out of this alive!

Out the back door, circle around to the staircase. I have to get to the seventh floor. Once there, I can play my trick with the Headmaster's office and hide with Merlin. Maybe. Hopefully.

...wait, no. The Staff knows about it. Dumbledore ordered that I not be disturbed while there. Quirrell's guaranteed to find me if I try hiding there.

Come on, think! Think!

---

Just as had been promised, Harry produced the Philosopher's Stone from the bottom of his trunk, to an ashen-faced, yet apoplectic Professor McGonagall.

"...professor?" Hermione pleaded, desperately hoping that they wouldn't be expelled for this.

"Did you three really go through all this trouble on account of a letter that explicitly said that Quirrell could not go through the Mirror of Erised?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking as if her eyeball was about to explode right in the socket.

Harry gulped. "We were just trying to help."

Professor McGonagall took a very, very deep breath.

"We didn't think anything was being done about it," Ron added.

"Mr. Weasley, if you do not wish for your children and your children's children to be expelled from Hogwarts ahead of time, you will be silent," Professor McGonagall said. "You three are the single most aggravating group of students that I have ever encountered."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry again.

"Potter, return this to your trunk," Professor McGonagall said, forcing the stone back into his hand and taking a breath to calm down. "We will discuss this after the crisis is over. Now come along, we'll be returning to the great hall!"

Harry did return the stone to his trunk...but smuggled his invisibility cloak within his robes.

---

"Months! Months of hard work and preparation!" Quirrell ranted, waving his wand to seal the Library doors.

All of them.

With me inside.

Madame Pince and the other students, with fortune beyond fortune, were able to evacuate the Library while it was still open.

Of course, I didn't make it to the exit, but I was currently hiding in between bookshelves.

His voice was hoarse as he shouted. "All that planning! Wasted! By a prank!" He was moving tables to barricade the doors on the side he came in. "Of course it had to be the Sorting Hat's greatest mistake! A mudblood! In Slytherin!"

He turned to look around, and I backed away from the second-floor banister so he wouldn't see me.

Stop panting.

Stop.

JUST STOP.

Breathe through the nose!

"You don't know how it galls my lord to see his house profaned so!" Quirrell raved. "An insult to the legacy and forthrightness of Salazar Slytherin himself!"

Wonder why Voldy isn't talking. Maybe all that dueling tired him out?

I heard him coming up the stairs. Just need to get down stairs and exit through the doors on the opposite side of the Library and I'll actually lose him.

"Your very nature is disgusting," Quirrell's voice came from below me, then rose above me as I descended the stairs. "Were it up to my Lord, the Chamber of Secrets would never have closed, and the Monster of Salazar Slytherin would feast well on any who dared pollute the wizarding world."

He's renting a time-share on the back of your head, Professor. How am I supposed to take that seriously?

...I've already wet myself, shut up.

Down the stairs I walked.

"But soon, we will obtain the Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell said. "We will make everything right. You've only accelerated our plans. The need for secrecy forced us to not use our power, but that is now past, thanks to you. We will slay the dog and pass through each of the barriers to gain the Stone, and my lord shall be restored."

I mean...no you won't. You're gonna get stuck at the Mirror of Erised. The stone isn't even there anymore, not that you know that.

...wait, no. Voldy's a Legilimens. If he catches me and reads me, he'll know literally everything.

You know, I'm not heroic enough to commit seppuku in case of capture.

Not even close.

Slowly get to the door.

"But first, we will deal with you, for ruining everything," Quirrell continued.

Go to the doors opposite what he barricaded. Turn the knob – it's locked.

I took out my wand. "Alohomora."

Try again...

I was hit with a crimson bolt, and my whole body flashed with the light as my wand was forcefully knocked out of my hand. A magical force pulled me up by my ankle right to the second floor, and soon I was was face-to-face with Quirrell's absolutely furious gaze.

There was nothing but venom in his voice. "There you are!"

My whole body went cold as I shut my eyes and tried in whatever meager way I could to brace for the Cruciatus curse.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and I heard several wizards rush in. I got turned around to look as Quirrell regarded them. Albus Dumbledore, Filius Flitwick and Severus Snape, all with wands pointed right at him. I...actually had a chance.

I'm crying right now.

Quirrell's voice was cold and wrathful. "Albus."

"Quirinus," Dumbledore replied. "Release Mr. Sullivan so we can talk."

...his first name is Quirinus?

Really?

---

Author's Note: Chapter's a little early today because I had some errands to run that would interfere with my upload schedule, so here you are! I hope you enjoy!

Until the next time!

~Fulcon

 

[Emptiness]

Ah, I forgot that when startled, Voldemort defaults to the Unforgivables. Also, I am am just realizing that Voldey calling someone "Mudblood" can be countered with "I know you are but what am I?".

 

[Avalon Du Lac]

Well that is Canon completely and utterly off the rails. Voldemort has been completely exposed in front of the entire population of Hogwarts. The Ministry won't be able to ignore this, it is too big and exposed.

Also Draco Malloy just helped expose the secret of Voldemorts survival to the entire world. Voldy won't forget or forgive that, and Lucius knows his Master well enough to know the consequence of that. Either Lucius and his Death Eater buddies accept that their children will be tortured to death, or they have to turn against Voldy right now while he is weak and vulnerable.

Filch, send an Owl to the Ministry! Immediately!

Click to shrink...

What exactly is this supposed to do. A Floo Call would be far faster, or even sending a Messenger Patronus. Sending an owl that won't reach the Ministry for hours is literally useless.

 

[Fulcon]

Ah, I forgot that when startled, Voldemort defaults to the Unforgivables.

Click to shrink...

Yes!

Also, Marcus stole his nose. Completely justified crash out, if I'm honest.

Also Draco Malloy just helped expose the secret of Voldemorts survival to the entire world. Voldy won't forget or forgive that, and Lucius knows his Master well enough to know the consequence of that. Either Lucius and his Death Eater buddies accept that their children will be tortured to death, or they have to turn against Voldy right now while he is weak and vulnerable.

Click to shrink...

Pretty much, yeah. Of course, if Lucius does accept it...hm...

What exactly is this supposed to do. A Floo Call would be far faster, or even sending a Messenger Patronus. Sending an owl that won't reach the Ministry for hours is literally useless.

Click to shrink...

Curse you and your...your... *checks cards* logic and reasoning!

But seriously, can Filch even use the Floo?

That said, you are right. You'd think the Wizarding world would have a faster post system than owls of all things.

Maybe they're magic owls that go super sonic once out of sight.

I'm kidding of course. But this course of action felt appropriate for Dumbledore, non-sensible though it might be.

 

[Xintax]

Maybe they're magic owls that go super sonic once out of sight.

Click to shrink...

Given they go from the ministry of magic in London to Scotland in the span of 2.5-3 hours each morning to deliver the daily prophet with morning post just in time for breakfast chances are they unironically are. They have to be pulling 150 + MPH to do this on a daily basis if they conventionally fly that is.

In reality I am betting they have some sort of floo network the owls use that is just never mentioned/talked about. That or the owls of the magic world can apperate and/or do something of the sort since when you look at the logistics as shown in series everything breaks apart.

 

[Fulcon]

Forgot some comments that I wanted to reply too. My mistake, hope you'll all forgive me.

She's still an idiot, though.

Click to shrink...

I understand your opinion, but I request that you not insult J. K. Rowling in my thread. Her books are why I even got started writing in the first place, and following her example taught me how to write, so I feel a sense of in-debtedness to her. Thank you.

This work is a very interesting read quite different from other SI fics , shame you didn't add the malfoid thred though

Click to shrink...

Heh! I considered it, but I figured Malfoid on top of an SI that is a muggleborn in Slytherin that is also studying the Dark Arts on top of altering canon beyond recognition would be a bit too much for one story.

I do want to explore that, though. Perhaps for my next project?

Given they go from the ministry of magic in London to Scotland in the span of 2.5-3 hours each morning to deliver the daily prophet with morning post just in time for breakfast chances are they unironically are. They have to be pulling 150 + MPH to do this on a daily basis if they conventionally fly that is.

In reality I am betting they have some sort of floo network the owls use that is just never mentioned/talked about. That or the owls of the magic world can apperate and/or do something of the sort since when you look at the logistics as shown in series everything breaks apart.

Click to shrink...

What a great head-canon!

 

[Emptiness]

Actually, sending a slow owl makes sense. The Ministry has not, to my recollection, ever done anything right. Dumbledore would have to "inform" them of such an event, but the owl gives time for the problem to actually be solved before the ministry can come along to bungle it up. Just Floo over Alastor Moody and say the powder ran out.