Harry spent a lot of time getting to know about magic and magical history.
If he was going to be a part of this world he wanted to know everything about it.
Especially since he seemed to be so important to the people in it.
He thought a lot about what Nott and Draco told him about the war and what Voldemort tried to do through his 'rise to power', as they called it.
'My father said he wasn't always so insane,' Draco whispered in the privacy of their dorm. 'He said when he started out that he just wanted wizards to not hide anymore. He wanted Muggles to stop attacking us or thinking that magic is some freaky joke.'
Well, Harry could understand that.
'What made him go insane?' Harry whispered back.
He was curious how one of the supposedly strongest wizards in the world loses his mind.
'Nobody knows for sure,' Nott told him. 'But my father thinks it was overuse of dark magic.'
And there it was again. This mad classification of magic; dark or light.
'My p-parents were tortured by d-dark magic,' Neville confided to him in the dark of the empty quidditch pitch one night. 'I wouldn't ever use it.'
'It's incredibly dangerous,' Hermione had said to him, surrounded by books in the library. 'Professor Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the world and he fought for muggleborn witches like me in the war. He never used dark magic. And now he helps make sure that certain dark spells are outlawed.'
That was another thing Harry didn't understand about this world- muggleborns, half-bloods, and purebloods. Who gives a damn what 'bloodline' a person has?
Everyone bleeds red.
Voldemort was an idiot for caring about that.
Hermione didn't have any magic in her family and she was brilliant. Top of their year. Harry would take her on his side in a fight over some pureblood moron like Crabbe or Goyle.
But Dumbledore was stupid for giving a damn about the darkness of a spell.
Harry was pretty sure he could kill a person with the right combination of a lumos and wingardium leviosa.
Harry also thought a lot about what Professor Snape had said.
'There is always a third path that can be taken, it just may be hard to obtain it and hold it. Do you understand?'
Harry wondered if there had ever been a third party in the war. Someone who told Dumbledore that dark magic isn't inherently bad or told Voldemort he was insane for thinking anyone, regardless of their families, who had magic in their veins was somehow unworthy.
'If there were ever another choice for me, say a third flavor outside of chocolate and vanilla, I believe that would become my preferred flavor.'
He had talked about it with Susan while she revised for their Charms final.
'Just cause fuckin' Dumbledore won, don't mean he was right,' Harry confided to her in the warded classroom they liked to talk in. 'He shouldn't get to say that some magic is illegal.'
'Did he win though?' She asked softly. 'A lot of people think Voldemort is still alive and active somewhere. Just waiting for a good time to return.'
Harry hoped he did. It would be nice to kill the man who killed his parents.
And in the deepest part of him, the part he would never confide to even Susan, he thought it might be nice to kill Dumbledore for what he did to him as well.
Just get rid of both of them.
He'd probably sleep easier if he did.
He had to put his fantasies of revenge on hold though. Exams were coming up quickly and all the teachers seemed to be bearing down harder on them than ever before.
"Your written exams are just as important as your practical," McGonagall lectured them. "I suggest that those of you who lack in penmanship skills," here she gave Harry a small glance, "work diligently to improve."
Harry talked with Hermione and was relieved to find out that even if he got all 0's on his written exams, as long as he aced the practical tests that he would pass in the mid-range of their class.
He wasn't worried.
"Longbottom, you idiot," Professor Snape hissed in one of their potions classes. "Kindly refrain from melting a cauldron during your exam lest I have to shoulder the shame for teaching you this year."
Neville had stuttered out an apology but Harry subtly rolled his eyes at him behind Snape's back.
He could be such an arse.
"Potter!" Snape barked at the end of the lesson. "Stay behind."
... maybe his eye roll wasn't as subtle as he thought.
When the last of the students had left, Ron promising to save him a spot at dinner, Harry watched warily as Snape closed the door behind them.
"Sir?" Harry asked curiously. "D-did I do somethin'?"
For some reason Snape's lips twitched in to what Harry has decided is his version of a smile.
"I am sure you have," he said lightly. "But since I have not caught you yet we will instead discuss your summer plans."
Harry grinned at Snape's absolute assuredness that Harry had done something wrong lately.
He didn't think he had, if you didn't count the red rock he'd taken to carrying around with him.
Susan and Draco were still working hard to figure out exactly what was so special about it.
"I believe that the Leaky Cauldron is a poor summer home for you this year," Snape said, entirely out of the blue.
Harry was about to argue that the Leaky Cauldron was the best place he'd ever stayed when Snape caught him by surprise again.
"If you wish- I believe your friends would like you to stay with them this summer."
Harry stared at him blankly.
"Susan wants me to stay with her?" He asked.
Snape raised an eyebrow at him and gave him an amused smirk.
"And Mister Zabini, and Mister Malfoy. I believe you have more than one friend."
"Oh yeah," Harry remembered Blaise's offer from the beginning of the year. "I forgot that was part of our deal, Blaise said I could stay with him and his mum in Italy."
"What deal?" The Professor asked interestedly.
Harry waved one hand airily, "Blaise said if I let him in the g- er, be my friend, that I could come visit this summer, didn't he?"
Snape groaned, and scrubbed a hand wearily across his eyes.
"I am going to pretend that I did not almost hear you refer to your friends as a 'gang', Potter."
Harry just shrugged, "'Kay."
Professor Snape groaned again before continuing, "Also Draco would like you to go spend a couple of weeks with him, and Susan's Aunt has invited you to her home for the last two weeks."
Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Snape. Why would all these people just randomly invite him over?
"What for? How come they didn't invite anyone else, huh? What'd ya do, tell 'em I needed a place to stay? Cause I don't," he spat.
He wasn't anyone's charity case.
"I have no idea who all they have invited over this summer," Snape said easily. "For all I know there may be just hoards of annoying children at Malfoy Manor this summer."
Harry snorted even though he was pretty sure Snape was just saying that so he wouldn't be mad.
"What'd ya tell 'em?"
"I told them that you, like many of my Slytherins, had a home life that I found distasteful for a young man and that I was sure Draco and Susan would enjoy spending time with you over the summer."
Snape looked right at him when he said it and Harry couldn't help think that there was a look in his eyes that said he was telling the truth.
"That's all?" He checked. "Ya didn't tell 'em anything 'bout... ya know, any of it?"
"I did not. I gave absolutely no specifics."
Harry weighed his options here. It would be wicked to spend the summer with his friends but he didn't want to seem like some pathetic charity kid either.
"I can pay for my own food and stuff," he said.
Snape raised one shoulder in a dismissive gesture, "You are welcome to discuss that with them. Although I believe Narcissa Malfoy will be mortally offended if she thinks you believe they need financial assistance to host one of Draco's friends for a couple of weeks."
"How come Draco and Susan didn't mention this me?" He asked suspiciously.
Why would they invite him over, but tell Snape instead of him?
"I believe Draco is waiting to surprise you and retrieve you from Italy on your birthday. You may have noticed his tendency for dramatics by now."
Harry laughed a little, Draco was pretty dramatic.
"And Susan must have asked her aunt for permission, who then requested permission from me as your Head of House, before Susan planned to ask you," Snape said. "I am sure she will bring it up soon. I assumed you would rather know now so you had the opportunity to get all of your paranoia out of the way in private."
Harry blushed, even as he acknowledged the slightly teasing lilt to Professor Snape's tone.
"Can I go to the Leaky if I don't wanna stay at their houses?" He checked.
It wouldn't do any good to be trapped somewhere again, even if it was only for two weeks.
"Certainly," Snape agreed easily. "I would like to request that you write to me immediately if you choose to check in to the Leaky Cauldron though."
"Certainly," Harry mimicked.
Snape's lips did that weird twitchy smile thing again and he waved his hand towards the door.
"Go, brat. Plan on leaving with Blaise Zabini on the last day."
Harry was almost to the door when the Professor added, "And it would be best not to share your summer plans with anyone you do not wholly trust. I would prefer the Headmaster not knowing."
He glanced back at the Professor and acknowledged him with a curt nod. But as he walked to the Great Hall he thought it over.
Why can't Dumbledore know where he's staying over the summer? Why did it matter if he stayed with Draco or if he was in Surrey? For that matter, why does it matter to the Headmaster of his boarding school what he does in the summers?
Something was suspicious about how much Dumbledore paid attention to him.
'A lot of people think Voldemort is still alive and active somewhere. Just waiting for a good time to return.'
Did... did Dumbledore expect him to fight Voldemort again if he came back? Maybe just use his forehead as some sort of killing curse shield? Could someone survive getting hit by the curse twice? Why did he survive it the first time?
Harry sat with his gang at the dinner table and quietly thought it over some more.
Was he just that powerful? Or Voldemort that weak and insane? Or was there something else in play?
"Hey Ron," Harry called quietly. "Can I ask ya somethin' and it stay between us?"
"Sure mate, want to talk in the dorm later?"
"Nah."
Harry flicked his fingers out thinking keep people from hearing us, and a shimmering light blue dome encircled him, Ron, Draco, and Blaise. He smirked at Nott's look of annoyance at not being included. This was just for his gang.
"Didn't ya say before that your mum and dad fought in the war?"
"Yep. My uncles died in the war too," he said, around a mouthful of pork.
Harry glanced at Draco and Blaise and leaned slightly closer to the three of them.
"Did they ever say why Voldemort went after me? Or how I was able to stop him?"
Ron sat his fork down and furrowed his brows thoughtfully.
"I dunno, they never talk much about it to me. Want me to ask them?"
Harry waved his offer off, disappointed in his lack of information.
"Nah, don't worry bout it."
"I could ask my father," Draco offered quickly. "He would probably know at least the Dark Lords motivation for targeting your parents."
Harry eyed him speculatively.
"Yeah? Why would he know that?"
Ron smirked and leaned towards Draco.
"Yeah, Malfoy, why would your father know anything about it?"
Draco shifted in his seat, looking uneasy.
"He, uh, he fought in the war too," he said softly. "Just, um, not on the same side as Weasley's parents?"
Harry stilled in his seat. How the fuck had he not noticed that before?
"'Kay, then you ask him what he knows and tell me soon as you do."
Draco nodded quickly, looking relieved for some reason.
Blaise gave Harry a curious look, one Harry has gotten used to receiving from him.
"You don't care that the Malfoys were on Voldemort's side before?" He asked, ignoring Draco's twitch of irritation.
"Nope," Harry said, dispelling their privacy dome. "Draco's on my side now, ain't he?"
"What sides are we talking about?" Nott asked.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Dumbledore," Ron answered.
Blaise was still studying Harry while Draco seemed pleased with his response.
"Aren't you on Dumbledore's side?" Blaise asked.
Harry curled his lip up at the thought.
"No," he snarled. "'M on my own side, like I've always been."
Ron nudged him gently.
"Not just you anymore though, you've got us now."
Harry gave him a tight grin but he felt something knotted in his stomach loosen just a bit at his declaration.
***
Unlike some of his classmates, Harry was excited for exams. He wanted a chance to just show off for no reason other than getting a good grade.
Thanks to the warmer weather, it was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. Harry had written his answers slowly, taking his time to make sure it was as legible as possible.
They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Harry had done his silently, without his wand, and from Flitwick's beaming smile he knew he had aced it.
Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox — points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Harry gave her a ruby encrusted golden snuffbox and caught her lips curling in to a pleased smile.
Snape tried to make everyone nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.
Harry thought it was ironic that it looked like most of his classmates had forgotten some of the steps.
Harry had done the best he could in his defense practical, identifying spell categories based on their color, but his throbbing head made it difficult to concentrate.
"Nearly there, Potter," Quirrell murmured as Harry left his classroom.
Quirrell was a weird bloke. Ever since the incident on the third floor he'd been giving Harry these really creepy intense stares and trying to find opportunities to talk to him alone. Not that Harry gave him any, he'd told Blaise how weird the man was and he had taken it upon himself to stay at Harry's side at all times when Quirrell was around.
Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.
"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."
"Hermione, nobody wants to talk about exams after they're done," Susan said, linking her arm with Harry's.
He tensed up slightly at her casual touch but he was growing more used to it.
"What do you guys wanna do?" Susan asked the rest of the kids.
"Let's play chess!" Ron called.
Draco and Nott both groaned out loud at that.
"No way Weasley," Draco sneered. "You've taken enough of our money."
Ron had been systematically playing, and beating, most of the students in Slytherin. Harry heard he'd made a decent profit off it.
"We could play Exploding Snap?" Blaise suggested.
Nobody seemed to have a problem with that idea so Harry volunteered to run back to the dorm to grab their cards.
On his way back through the castle, snap cards safely in his pocket with the red rock, Harry caught himself smiling and shook his head.
Just because life was good now didn't mean he should get used to it.
He was lecturing himself on staying alert to weaknesses so severely that he almost didn't notice the Headmaster in the hallway. He barely ducked off to the side, hiding behind a tapestry, before Dumbledore or McGonagall could spot him.
"I'm afraid I must go," the Headmaster said softly, although louder than Harry would if it was meant to be a private conversation. "Fudge insisted on me making an appearance in person this evening."
"I'm sure we can carry on in your absence for one evening Albus," McGonagall replied drily.
"Ah, I have the upmost trust in you handling the students my dear," Dumbledore said. "I just worry that this could be a ploy..."
"A ploy?"
Harry couldn't see the pair of them but he imagined McGonagall's sharp tone matched an equally sharp look in her eyes.
"For what?" She asked.
"The Sorcerers Stone, of course," Dumbledore chuckled.
What the fuck is a Sorcerers Stone? Harry wondered.
McGonagall lowered her voice to a near whisper, Harry had to lean partially out of the tapestry to hear her, "Do you believe someone is going to make an attempt on it while you're gone?"
"I do," Dumbledore sounded solemn.
"Then you can't leave!" McGonagall exclaimed. "You should tell Cornelius to simply floo to you."
"Oh no, dear, I am confident in the traps we set in the corridor and I doubt whether Riddle would have the courage to face you," Dumbledore chuckled.
Corridor? Riddle? Wait... is the rock a Sorcerers Stone?
Harry heard McGonagall huff in what he imagined to be exasperation.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is as likely to appear in our castle as Severus is to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."
Is Voldemort's name Riddle? He almost smacked his head on the wall in annoyance at himself. Of fucking course it is, who would name their child 'Voldemort'?
"We must always be alert dear," Dumbledore continued. "At any rate, I shall be leaving after dinner. I suggest you patrol the corridor after ten o'clock, it would be the more opportune time for anyone to attempt the theft."
"Yes well, I will speak with Filius and Severus about setting up a guard for tonight after you leave, shall I?"
"Wonderful idea! I will meet you at dinner to hear the final plan!"
Harry heard the light tap, tap, tap, that meant McGonagall had left the hall. He held his breath, waiting for the footsteps that would say Dumbledore had left as well.
Harry heard the Headmaster sigh, kind of dramatically in Harry's opinion.
"I hope our traps are enough to keep Voldemort from the stone..." he said softly before Harry heard the tell-tale sounds of him leaving the hall as well.
Harry counted to ten, making sure nobody would see him leaving his hiding spot, before sprinting to the lake.
"Harry," Draco called as he skidded to a stop in front of the group. "What took so long?"
"Did you get the cards?" Nott asked.
Harry waved his hand and told his magic to make their conversation private.
"Never mind all that," he said dismissively. "What do you guys know about a Sorcerers Stone?"