If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.
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10 November 1991, Hogwarts
The two boys were later joined by Daphne and Tracy and just hung out. Telling each other stories, or just playing games. They spent hours just enjoying each other's company, and the pain that Harry was feeling was numb by the end of the night. It was nice, remembering that even with Hermione gone, he wasn't alone.
It was one of the happiest evenings he had ever experienced. And by the end of it, Harry realized that he had almost forgotten about his former friendship with Hermione.
The following day, Harry was convinced to attend the Slytherin game with his friends. Well, it was more like he was dragged to the Quidditch stadium by his friends. The match started off simply enough, if a little brutally. Harry still didn't see why half the population was obsessed with the sport, but he would admit that there was a little enjoyment in watching the chaos that was Quidditch.
Oh, Harry still didn't find it to be half as interesting as a good book. he was half tempted to just whip one out and start reading, but Daphne seemed to have seen through him and one glare from her stopped him from trying anything.
Still, all things considered, the game ended up turning into a mini battle, with the Slytherin Chasers being particularly brutal, but from what Harry could infer, it was normal enough for a Quidditch match.
Longbottom proved himself to be an adequate seeker, and a rough match to Higgs, the Slytherin seeker. He wasn't anything spectacular, but Wood's training seemed to be paying off. It was for the better, in Harry's opinion; the more time Longbottoms spends training, the more tired he is during the rest of the day, and the less bothersome he becomes. Oh, he was definitely getting more arrogant by getting the position, but he had to prove to the whole school that he didn't get it solely due to Dumbledore's blatant favouritism.
Still, like the stories, Longbottom's broom got cursed, by either Snape or Quirrell. Harry was pretty sure it was Quirrell since that was what happened in the stories, but this life wasn't a story, and he wasn't going to exclude someone just because he remembers a story from his past life that said so.
Although Harry did stifle a chuckle when he saw Hermione actually set Snape's robes on fire. To think that the shy authority-abiding bookworm could actually do something that could have gotten her expelled! She was a far cry from the shy girl that was his friend and that was a bitter pill to swallow. Hermione would have never broken the rules for him, not even once.
Harry squashed the envy that spread through his heart. It would serve nothing. Hermione had chosen Neville. It was a shame, and Harry wasn't enthused about it, but it was better now that he wasn't extremely invested in their friendship. It hurt but it was manageable. It could have been worse, all things considered.
Still, Neville ended up being catching the snitch by swallowing it, a veritable first in the history of Hogwarts, probably considering how unlikely it was. Still, the boy who lived survived and attempted murder, and he deserved some time off. It was odd how it happened in both the story and in this real life. Things should have gone differently, especially considering how impossible to accidentally swallow the snitch once was, let alone happen with two entirely different people, with different skills on a broom. Perhaps it was just fate. Perhaps the ball was enchanted to grant Longbottom an edge. Harry could see Dumbledore doing something like that to make sure that Longbottom endeared himself to his housemates, and still have a spot on his team, no matter how mediocre his talent was on a broom. Perhaps it was also done to Canon Harry to get more confidence. Honestly, the Potter scion didn't know, nor did he really care for that matter.
That night, Harry chose not to return to the common room since everyone was practically in a bad mood and itching for a fight. Harry couldn't handle another time of Malfoy exclaiming to everyone about how much better he would have done if he was the seeker instead of Higgs, and about the unfairness of Longbottom being in the Quidditch team when he's worse than him.
Harry just couldn't do it. He was one comment away from just cursing the boy, or just strangling him physically. By all that is good and holy, whoever raised Draco Malfoy was an idiot. Thankfully, the blonde was utterly terrified of Harry after their last encounter. He could barely make eye contact with him without flinching. At least he stopped bothering Harry, that was what mattered in the end.
And so, the Potter scion, distanced himself from his housemates to do something he has been itching to do for months: going to the forbidden corridor on the third floor. Dumbledore had explicitly warned everyone from visiting. Of course, practically everyone ended up trying to find out why it was forbidden, and there were a few stories going around about a Cerberus being there.
Yeah, things really didn't go according to Dumbledore's plan, or perhaps it went perfectly. He had to know that making something forbidden was a good way to get everyone curious enough to try to figure out why. There had to be more to it than that. The headmaster isn't an idiot and that meant that there was another dimension to the forbidden corridor. He could have just warded the corridor and not said anything. Only students that were fifth years or higher would have even detected a ward made by any competent wizard let alone Dumbledore. Or he could have provided a false reason like it being cursed or something and make people scared of it. No, he purposefully wanted everyone to be curious about it and be vague about the danger.
Harry slowly walked towards the corridor. The castle was quiet and only his footsteps were the only sound reverberating throughout the corridor. When he finally reached the corridor, he sensed something odd, "Huh. The song is odd. There is a ward but it's not stopping me from entering. It's not really repulsive, just there, I guess. Probably detects something, but I can't hear a warning trigger."
There was no harm in getting through all things considered. Dozens of students had done so, and they were fine. Harry steeled himself and took a step inside.
Immediately, the ward flared, and its song intensified. It was looking for something in Harry, and afterwards, it just let him go through. The torches around the corridor started to light up and there was nothing there but another wooden locked door by the end of it. Harry slowly walked, trying to hear any other song. There was only one by the end of the door, but it was far more complex than the previous one.
Harry didn't really get to study wards all that much, the same reason he didn't really get to study alchemy. They needed a foundation in Runes that he lacked, and for all his cleverness and insight in magic, Runes was a very time intensive field to learn. It would take months to become adequate in a single runic language, let alone the countless ones that are required to specialize in these fields. He was going to do it eventually, but Harry had too much fun discovering wand magic to just focus on learning what was basically a new language from scratch.
Oh, Harry knew enough to understand the basics of warding, but he didn't really have enough time to manipulate them using his magical hearing. Still, Harry was adamant about seeing the infamous Cerberus at the very least. He pointed his wand at the door and muttered, 'Alohomora'.
The door clicked and opened up, and the ward's song flared in intensity. Harry slowly walked forwards, and he finally understood what the ward was doing. It had two distinct songs, one that felt protective, and another that was slowly changing. It was becoming more familiar; Harry could tell it was at the back of his mind. Oh, it was his song. The ward was analyzing his magic. What a wonderful and curious piece of magic. Harry, of course, chose to trick it, and slightly change his song to resemble Blaise's. It was probably a bad thing to do, but he was most familiar with it, having hung out with him the most out of his friends. His technique was more of an illusion than actually changing his magic. Because it was an illusion of a magical song superposing his own. It wasn't really something he had tried before, but it should have been theoretically possible.
When it was done, the ward fully assimilated the false magical signature and settled down. It sent a copy of the fake signature to the first ward, which also flared. Harry then slowly walked past the door and was face to face with the giant three-headed dog.
It was far more intimidating than he imagined. It was bigger than the troll and was scowling at him. Cerberus were magical dogs that have the best magical resistance in a magical creature. It was literally impervious to magic. You couldn't put a spell on it, be it protective or attacking. They were also one of the few creatures that are immune to the killing curse, but that protection didn't hold into their fur. To defeat a Cerberus, you had to do it physically, which wasn't really most wizards' strong point.
It was a fantastic beast to use to protect an object. Practically no one would have been able to get past it, all things considered, and it did make sense why Dumbledore would let it attack it.
Harry slowly walked towards the rising dog and spoke up, "Don't worry, I'm not trying to get past you. I just wanted to see you."
Immediately the three heads stopped and focused on Harry. So, they understood human speech, "I have heard a lot about your kind and when I knew that you were in the castle, I was just curious."
Harry wasn't even lying; he could hear the wards on the trap door, and they were extremely complex and very loud, which meant that it was very powerful, and far above anything he could deal with. He only came here because a Cerberus was a rare creature, and it was intelligent enough that Harry wanted to hear its magic.
"I have to say, you are magnificent," Harry muttered.
That was true. Harry stopped and ignored all of the wards' noise and just listened to the Cerberus. It was, by far, the most complex symphony he had ever heard. It had so many layers and deepness. It was the most magical thing he had heard so far. There was loyalty, playfulness, and nobility involved. And then that changed with a feeling of familiarity and for the lack of a better term, souls.
It was then that he realized what was happening, "You're not a being of flesh and blood, are you?"
The giant hound's three heads sniffed in amusement and Harry knew that he was right. The Cerberus wasn't some average magical creature. It was deeper than that. It was made of magic, mixed in with a few other things, but fundamentally it was a being of energy. No wonder magic couldn't hurt it. Harry still didn't really understand the killing curse, but if it was made of magic, it technically couldn't kill a Cerberus. Yet, the beast was just so oddly familiar, and Harry knew that he had just scratched the surface.
However, the more he listened, the more his magical crest started to burn in his chest. It was a slow prickle that slowly turned into what felt like someone putting a torch to his chest. Harry yelped and stopped actively listening to the Cerberus.
He gasped as he let go, and one of the heads pushed him playfully out of the door. Oh, so it was playfully asking him to leave. Isn't that kind? Harry just grinned in response, "I'll be back."
The dog growled and the door closed by itself, and Harry heard the distinct click signifying that the door was locked. He tried to open it but felt the ward getting stronger and stopping him from doing it. Shaking his head, he turned with a small smile on his face and left the corridor. He noticed that the ward on the door was now pushing him to not notice it. Harry removed the illusion of his magical song, and the ward stopped working.
Oh, so it saved the magical signature of whoever enters and only works after the student sees the Cerberus once, denying them access. If that wasn't a red flag that Dumbledore was planning something, Harry didn't know what would be.
Still, Harry slowly walked to his common room, with his head filled with questions. What was the Cerberus, really, how was it born, and if it was made of magic? And why did his magical crest burn when he looked deeply into it?
Harry went to bed and dreamed of giant three-headed dogs.
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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you for your support in these hard times.