It had been over a week since the holidays had ended and the students had come back, and Harry still found himself missing the quiet of the castle. It was not as if he was affected very much. He still spent most of his time in solitude, however, he found he could do without all the chatter that followed his fame.
Ever since he had found the Come and Go Room, he had made it a habit to spend all his evenings there. The room was truly a marvel, and Harry had tried multiple things out. The room could summon the Hogwarts Library if he wanted access to books, and Harry was astounded when it even managed to procure the tomes from the Restricted Section. When he felt hungry, the room delivered food directly from the kitchens. However, that was not the pinnacle of the advantages this room came with. When he asked for some arrangement to help him train his spells, the room came up with ingenuous ideas. From a training area equipped with targets of all kinds to even dummies that could adjust to his level and give him a proper challenge as he grew. The results were apparent. His spellcasting was refining at a fast pace, with the rate of spells he could cast and their accuracy improving with every practice drill.
His Hufflepuff friends were slightly put out at his habit of regularly disappearing after classes, often proposing for all four of them to study together in the library, however, Harry found himself declining every time. The primary reason was that he had found this room and couldn't stop himself from utilizing it to its maximum potential. He could tell them about its existence, but he didn't want to. This room was known to no one apart from the elves, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could.
However, another reason was that they were involved with the first-year coursework, while he had already started on the fourth-year material and was set to finish it within a month or two.
Harry was very happy with the fact that his professors seemed to nurture his hunger for more knowledge and did not hold him back. Agreed that he had to attend the first-year classes, but he was willing to make that compromise. He had seen some gifted students being treated badly in the muggle world when they joined the higher grades or universities at a young age, and he had no intention of being subjected to something remotely similar. The baggage of his fame coupled with his excellence was more than enough.
Currently, he was walking up the stairs under his cloak after having dinner in the kitchens, with the map folded open in his hands. It had been some time since he had been there, and he had skipped dinner in the Great Hall. His eyes scanned the map for anyone nearby. Apart from the prefects patrolling the hallways or the teachers wandering around, he didn't see anyone else. It was not until he reached the bottom floor that his eyes found something peculiar.
In the Trophy Room stood Finnegan and Weasley with the Gryffindor ghost Pettigrew alongside him. Harry frowned, wondering why the pair of idiots would violate the curfew to roam the castle with some ghost, particularly when they didn't have anything to help them hide. He chuckled when he saw none other than Filch rushing down the hallway towards the Trophy Room. That would teach the idiots some lesson, he thought, smirking.
Harry snorted at the way the footsteps of Finnegan, Weasley, and Pettigrew seemed to rush in the opposite direction, with Filch hot on their heels. He stood there, leaning against the wall as he followed those steps until they reached the third-floor corridor. He recalled Dumbledore warning them never to venture there unless they wanted to die a painful death, and he sighed. It seemed the parents of Finnegan and Weasley would be arriving tomorrow.
Harry resumed his walk up the stairs, however, he kept his eyes on the dots of Finnegan, Weasley, and Pettigrew as they slowly walked deeper inside the room in the corridor, before he leaned back against the wall once again and stared at their movement. It was oddly fun to do this, he thought, chuckling. He saw them stop in front of a locked door and stay there for quite a while as Filch's footsteps inched closer to the corridor. The caretaker was still on the opposite end of the corridor, and it seemed like he was hesitating to venture further ahead. Finally, Filch gave up and started to walk downstairs, and Harry sighed. So much for those idiots learning a lesson.
His eyes fell on Finnegan, Weasley, and Pettigrew once again and he saw the door was now unlocked and their footsteps had moved further before stopping a few paces ahead. Suddenly, he saw footsteps bolt away before stopping right where the door was. He saw the door flash 'Locked' once again before the footsteps of Finnegan and Weasley ran back out of the third-floor corridor and rush upstairs. Harry chuckled. It seemed they had seen whatever it was in that corridor that would cause a 'painful death', and he couldn't wait to hear what it might be. He was sure there would be something in the rumor mill sooner rather than later.
-Break-
Harry woke up the next morning and quickly finished his morning rituals before beginning his Occlumency training. Having already erected the barrier, he was now putting as much effort as he could into strengthening it.
The mind arts were considered very delicate and for good reason. One wrong step and one could deal immense damage to one's psyche. Harry had been very careful with how he progressed.
Last night had been an eventful one. After witnessing Weasley and Finnegan escape whatever it was in that corridor as well as Filch, Harry swiftly made his way toward the Ravenclaw Tower. However, what he hadn't counted for that bloodsucking cat of Filch to be loitering around in the corridor. Belatedly, he realized that Filch never had his cat with him when he had been chasing those two idiots, and he had forgotten that Mrs. Norris was the only animal that could be tracked using the map. He had ignored the cat, however, to his immense shock, the cat seemed to know there was someone in the corridor as her sharp glowing eyes had locked onto where he had been, freezing him in his tracks for a moment before slowly giving chase.
A weak stunner had taken care of the cat, and Harry had quickly made his escape before Filch could come over. It seemed his cloak could be sensed by animals, or rather, he could, even if he was under the cloak. Animals had heightened senses of smell and hearing, so the cat might have had either heard his steps or gotten his scent. Harry hoped it was not the latter, otherwise, the cat could recognize that he was the one to attack her.
As Harry walked down the stairs for breakfast, Filch and his cat were coming from the opposite direction. The old caretaker's eyes were wandering around in suspicion, probably trying to discern who might have stunned his lovely cat, Harry presumed. He kept his face impassive and nodded at the caretaker respectfully, something that seemed to take the man aback as he stared at him in shock. Harry smirked to himself as his eyes fell on the cat that was staring at him and he squatted in front of her.
"Whatcha doin' boy!?" Filch quickly recovered and snarked. Harry held his palm up in response.
"You do so much for us. It seemed only right to bring this lovely lady some treats," he smiled as genuinely as he could and placed some treats on the floor, ignoring the suspicious look on the caretaker's face.
"Imma skin ya alive if ya harm her," Filch warned. Harry nodded and continued to stare at the cat intensely, employing the skill that had helped him so many times in the past. Unbeknownst to anyone, his eyes glowed a menacing emerald and the cat looked down guiltily before slowly munching on the treats. Filch's eyes widened as Harry smirked.
"Once again, thank you Mr. Filch," he smiled at the old man, who shakingly nodded before he walked ahead with a smile plastered on his face. He doubted either the cat or the old caretaker would ever be an asshole to him on purpose. He would have to do this every so often, but he could tolerate it if it meant keeping them off his tracks.
"A little kindness sometimes goes a long way," Harry smirked as he walked into the Great Hall and walked up to the Hufflepuff table where his three friends were sitting.
"Someone's in a good mood today," Susan smirked at him as he slid in beside Neville. He and Hannah turned to look at him with questioning looks on their faces. Harry chuckled.
"Have you ever done some charity? Try it sometime. It feels nice," he replied and started to fix his breakfast.
Susan shook her head with a smile. "Sometimes you say things out of nowhere."
Harry shrugged and started eating.
"By the way, I finally found where it is," Hannah said excitedly. Susan sighed.
"It's a wonder it took you so long to find it, Glutton," she snarked, wincing when the blonde stomped on her foot and glared.
"Anyhow," Hannah turned to look at the boys and grinned. "I found where the kitchens are! Can you imagine? We can go and eat whatever we want!"
Neville smiled at her exuberance while Harry nodded.
"I know. It's near your common room. I'm surprised it took you so long to find it," he replied. Hannah's eyes widened.
"You knew!?" She cried out in shock, eyes widening when Harry shrugged.
"Known for months now."
"Why!? Why didn't you tell us!?" She demanded. Harry looked at her and frowned.
"Was I supposed to?" He asked, looking at Susan and Neville. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Also, given it's so close to your common room, I assumed you knew already."
"B-but…"
"Oh let it be," Susan said in exasperation, before looking at Harry with an excited look on her face. "I have something more interesting to talk about."
Harry frowned when he saw Neville shake his head.
"What is it?"
"I heard from Patil who heard from Brown who heard Finnegan and Weasley talking about some three-headed dog on that forbidden corridor on third floor," Susan said in a conspiratorial whisper.
Harry stared at her with a raised eyebrow before looking at Neville who shook his head.
"I guarantee you it was a normal dog or probably a wolf and they added two heads to make it look more heroic," the blonde wizard replied.
"Hold on a bit," Harry interjected. "Start from the beginning."
Susan grinned. "Brown told Patil who told me that last night after dinner, Weasley and Malfoy seemed to have a fight, and Malfoy challenged him to a duel after curfew in the Trophy Room. Crabbe was Malfoy's second, and Finnegan was Weasley's. Turns out Malfoy never showed up, and instead, he told Filch about Weasley and Finnegan violating curfew. When those two heard Filch coming for them, they ran away and found themselves in the third-floor corridor. That was where they found that three-headed dog."
Harry nodded as Neville scoffed. "I bet it was nothing, or was some puppy at best."
"What puppy eats a rat, huh?" Susan retorted hotly before she looked at Harry. "Weasley lost his pet rat to this three-headed dog. How horrible! He was very sad too, as Brown said. His older brother who is the Gryffindor Prefect won't even talk to him this morning. The rat belonged to him, you see. Anyways, Weasley was saying he was so scared he didn't even know when his rat slipped from his hands and it was only when he turned around did he see the large teeth of that dog bite down on his rat."
Off to the side, Hannah heaved in disgust.
"I'm trying to eat here, you idiot," she chided Susan, who looked unperturbed. Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table and found the oldest Weasley son glaring at his youngest brother who sat with Finnegan and Thomas on either side of him. Finnegan seemed to have a bump on his forehead. Harry assumed he might have hit himself while fleeing.
"I don't see him looking that sad though," he muttered as he stared at the boy eagerly indulging in his breakfast. Hannah, Neville, and Susan also looked over and grimaced.
"He really doesn't, does he?" Neville muttered.
"Perhaps it's some ritual in his family? To eat as much as you can to mourn the dead?" Hannah chimed in, earning disbelieving looks from the other three.
"Just how does that mind of yours work!?" Neville asked after a moment of pause. Hannah shrugged in response.
"'Twas just a suggestion, is all…" she muttered before she went back to eating.
"As expected from a glutton like you," Susan snarked, and Harry tuned the bickering girls out once again.
Instead, his mind went to what Susan had just revealed. A three-headed dog was living in the room he had seen on the map. Harry wondered just what it was, and what a creature like that was doing inside Hogwarts. He resolved to read up all about it after the classes.
-Break-
Harry didn't bother going to the library and immediately walked upstairs to the seventh floor toward the Room of Requirement. Walking in front of the wall back and forth, he quickly pulled the door open and entered, watching as the door vanished inside.
He took a seat on the chair and asked for all the details about a large three-headed dog. A thick book appeared on the table in front of him, and Harry quickly started leafing through it.
Numerous magical creatures from dragons, acromantula, and basilisks to even dementors were listed in the book. Harry resolved to read all of them after he was done with this dog and continued to turn the pages. He was halfway through when he saw the picture of the three-headed dog, and his eyes widened.
He had expected a normal dog with three heads. However, the picture was of a giant dog with massive heads and paws. Not for the first time, Harry questioned the sanity of the headmaster who had decided to house such a creature in a castle full of students.
"It's called a Cerberus, huh? Magical beast with three heads, yeah, I can see that easily," Harry muttered as he kept reading. "Large, aggressive, requires highly expert handling. Hagrid is the only one well versed in magical creatures to manage this. Grubbly-Plank might do it too. A keen sense of hearing and smell. Creatures Department classifies it as a Category XXXX creature, heh, no wonder."
Harry turned the page over after staring at the moving picture of the Cerberus. It was truly a magnificent beast with three heads and three pairs of madly glaring eyes, three large noses, and three mouths with sharp teeth that were bared menacingly. Yeah, not your regular puppy, as Neville had been saying.
"I see," he muttered as he finished reading. "it's used to guard treasures, and one can get past it by playing a melodious tune. That's not so tough. Although what treasure is this thing guarding?"
Harry leaned back and wondered. It was likely that whatever it was, Dumbledore knew about it. He had been keeping it there, after all. Furthermore, it was possible that at least the heads of houses knew about it. Harry thought about trying to ask McGonagall or Flitwick about it but quickly discarded that idea. It would cause pointless issues, particularly if they did not know about it.
It was not as if this was affecting him. However, now that he knew about it, his curiosity refused to let him refrain from doing anything, and not to mention if this treasure was truly something valuable, there was no way he would not try obtaining it. He might have enough money to last generations; however, treasure didn't come only in the form of wealth.
"I hope I don't regret this," he muttered to himself as he sighed.
-Break-
An hour after the curfew began, the door to the Ravenclaw Common Room opened and closed with no one visible on either side. Under his cloak, Harry quickly made his way to the forbidden third-floor corridor and quietly entered the designated room.
He threw a Lumos up and saw the locked door in the distance. Slowly walking forward, he looked down at the map.
"So far, so good," he muttered to himself when he saw no one even close to where he was. Looking at the iron latch on the thick door, Harry tried to pull it up, to no avail.
"Must be spelled somehow," he whispered with a nod and tapped his wand against it. His silent Alohamora took care of it and he smiled before slowly opening the door so that he could peek through.
"Looks like Susan was right," he muttered to himself as he saw the visage of the Cerberus in front of him. Its menacing eyes were trained on the slightly ajar door; however, it couldn't see anyone. Harry smirked. His eyes took in everything about the room, and he had to marvel at how large this creature truly was. The Cerberus filled the entire space between the floor and the ceiling, and a massive slippery rope of saliva was dangling down each mouth, yellowed teeth bared in silent warning.
Harry looked for something the creature must be guarding, and he frowned when he could not find anything. However, his eyes widened slightly when he saw the paw of the creature on what looked like a trapdoor.
"I see," he whispered, and slowly closed the door. It was a relief that he had started to use silencing and scent-masking charms after the incident with Filch's cat. He didn't think he would've managed to evade this creature's strong senses otherwise.
He locked the door once again and made his way out of the third-floor corridor. Having nothing else to do for the night, Harry headed back to Ravenclaw Tower for some much-needed sleep.
-Break-
"Very good, Potter. Take ten points for Ravenclaw," the firm voice of McGonagall sounded out, and as it had become the norm, students from all four houses looked over at him, impressed, impassive, happy, or sneering. Harry smiled at the professor, who nodded and dismissed the class shortly.
This past half a year had been brilliant, and Harry had improved massively in all the subjects he was interested in. Snape couldn't find anything to humiliate him with, Flitwick couldn't stop gushing over his skills, and McGonagall always had that proud smile on her face despite her attempts to remain strict and impassive. Harry couldn't complain. He was improving rapidly and he welcomed it all.
"That takes care of the fourth-year coursework. I must admit, I am beyond impressed with the level you have achieved already," McGonagall said with a smile once the class ended.
"I hope I'm well on track to ace the test you have set out for me at the year-end?" He asked with a smile. McGonagall chuckled.
"So that you could start your journey to becoming an animagus, is that right?"
Harry shrugged. It was true, after all. He was beyond intrigued with the possibility of transforming into an animal.
McGonagall looked at him and sighed. He reminded her of his parents so often that it was surprising. The boy didn't even know them, and yet, he exhibited some of their best traits. Unlike his father, he never indulged in pranks, and unlike Lily, he was not a confrontational hothead either. Always keeping calm, accomplishing his tasks, aiding his fellow students, and constantly striving to push his boundaries. McGonagall had not admitted it out loud but she was proud of how this child had turned out.
When she and Albus had visited Hope Orphanage to erect those protections so that Harry could live there safely and grow without any influence of the Wizarding World, she had never expected that he would be like this. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find that he was such a kind young lad who was well on his track to becoming the best student she had ever had the honor of teaching.
Never had she seen someone with such remarkable control over one's magic, nor had she seen someone with such magical prowess at such a young age. This boy was a formidable mage in the making, of that there was no doubt, and she was very much looking forward to what path his future would take.
Every so often she thought about the matron's words. To think that someone as decent and courteous as this young lad had played a role in the death of the former matron was unfathomable. She was fairly sure that Harry's magical abilities had somehow frightened the children of the orphanage and the matron herself, who could not understand how things might have happened, and slowly, the rumors about Harry had started. It was fairly common for muggles to get frightened when subjected to accidental magic, after all.
It was not as if she was alone in this hypothesis. She had shared everything with Albus as well as Filius, and none had any concern about Harry Potter. Although Albus had asked them to observe his behavior, McGonagall was even more certain now that there was no way Harry Potter could have harmed even a hair on anyone's head.
Instead, she had seen the signs of trauma and bullying in young Harry Potter – signs that were easy to observe. The boy had a quiet disposition, craved respect and adoration, and was always looking for isolation, as evident by his habit of getting away from the crowds after classes. He did not interact much with the other students either, choosing to remain in the company of the first three students he had made an acquaintance of in the Wizarding World. McGonagall did not doubt that his life at the orphanage must not have been very pleasant, particularly worsening after those rumors had spread about him.
It was indeed a marvel that he had turned out such a remarkable young man, and she truly felt it was her privilege to play a role in nurturing his abilities.
"I must admit you have surprised me, Mr. Potter," McGonagall began finally. "However, I must ask you to stay grounded and always conduct yourself with humility. It won't do to have your abilities go to waste just because you lost yourself in your hubris. I promised that I will grant your wish to guide you to become an animagus if you succeeded, and I intend to carry out said promise. Keep working hard and I am sure you will have no problems."
That was as much of an answer as Harry could get from McGonagall, and with a respectful bow of his head, he turned around and walked out of the classroom.
It was the last lesson of the day, and Harry did not bother going anywhere but the seventh floor. The past few days had been spent learning everything he could about magic – something that had been his routine for the past half a year. However, he had started to plan. He had become curious about what that Cerberus was guarding, and he knew he could not rest easy until he saw it for what it was. He knew better than to rush in without thinking, and his preparations were well underway.
Already, he had brushed up on all the offensive and healing spells he knew, as well as other spells which he knew he could use offensively. Furthermore, he had started to brew a few healing potions within the confines of the Come and Go Room so that he could deal with any possible injuries in case he messed up somehow.
Now that he had decided to be a curious cat, the least he could do was be a prepared one.
-Break-
It was late April when Harry felt he was ready to venture down the trapdoor to see what this treasure Dumbledore had hidden inside Hogwarts. The past few months had been eventful, to say the least.
Malfoy and Weasley had gotten into another altercation, and somehow, the professors had the bright idea to assign them detention in the Forbidden Forest. Harry had been flabbergasted when he had heard that. Apparently, it was completely alright for students to venture there for detentions.
However, it was the tale they came back with that interested him. Both claimed to have fought some evil creature inside the forest that had killed a unicorn and was drinking its blood. They had stumbled on the creature while it was feasting and were promptly attacked for interrupting its meal. However, like the valiant heroes they were, they had managed to fight it off while the other was cowering behind them.
Their stories checked out, at least until the 'who fought and who was cowering' part. Harry ignored it, instead opting to focus on the evil creature who was drinking the unicorn's blood. He had read about unicorns in that book about magical creatures, and it had said that a unicorn's blood could magically rejuvenate a dying person, prolonging the life of the drinker. However, such a boon was granted only if the blood was freely given. Any attempt to forcefully extract a unicorn's blood or Merlin forbid, slaying one and then feasting on its blood would curse the drinker. The book had not gone into details, simply stating that such a drinker would suffer a cursed life.
Harry could not imagine who would want a life like that – perhaps someone who had nothing to lose and would do anything to gain whatever possible, consequences be damned.
It was Hagrid who had quashed all those embellished tales, promptly clearing up that it was a herd of centaurs who had managed to drive this creature away, to the utter embarrassment of both Weasley and Malfoy.
Harry couldn't deny it, but the presence of such an individual so close to Hogwarts did concern him slightly.
He had also made a habit of observing the third-floor corridor on the map to see if anyone else ever ventured there. He had been surprised to see Quirrell trying to get there a few times, as well as Snape, who, unlike Quirrell, seemed to patrol the corridor instead of getting inside the room. Not for the first time, Harry wondered just what the turban-wearing idiot's deal was. He was a timid man who could never speak without that horrible stutter, seemed to be afraid of even his shadow, always looked like he had trouble sleeping, and most importantly, affected his accursed scar the most.
Harry couldn't lie; he was apprehensive of the man and felt there was more to him than he let others know. Snape had his mysterious persona, however, it seemed authentic. Quirrell, on the other hand, was someone who presented a fake persona to the entire world to fool them while hiding his true personality behind that veil of cowardice. Harry had managed to deduce that much over the past year.
There had been a pattern to Quirrell's visits to the forbidden corridor. He never came when Snape was patrolling, which was every three days. Instead, he would come the day right after.
Right on cue, Harry saw from under his invisibility cloak the familiar face of Quirinus Quirrell come inside the room. He had already masked his sound and scent, and there was no way Quirrell could deduce there was anyone in his vicinity.
He saw the man open the door with significantly steady wand movement and silent casting at that. It seemed his suspicions were right. There was indeed more to this wizard than he had thought. The moment the door opened, Quirrell quickly pulled out a flute from his robes and started playing. Despite the horrible notes, the Cerberus fell asleep.
Quirrell was quick to levitate the creature's paw off the trapdoor and Harry took that as his moment to enter the room. He saw Quirrell cast a firestorm inside the trapdoor with slightly widened eyes. That required some power. The wizard tapped his wand on the flute, and Harry saw it hover in the air, still playing. Finesse. This was indeed a capable wizard.
By now, Harry had understood that Quirrell was after this treasure as well. However, he refused to let him take it. A plan formed in his mind. He would follow behind him, and as Quirrell obtained whatever the treasure was, he would stun him from behind and bolt away with it before the man could even react.
A minute after Quirrell had jumped down the trapdoor, Harry followed and his eyes widened when he kept falling. Quickly, he cast Arresto Momentum and managed to slow down his descent barely a few seconds before he landed on the floor. That would've been painful.
He saw the path ahead and followed, watching the open door in the distance. Shrugging, he followed under his cloak, his target unaware of his presence.
The sound of explosions greeted him when he walked through the door, and his eyes widened as Quirrell cast Bombarda after Bombarda all over what looked like a giant chessboard. It was only when the entire chessboard had been destroyed that Quirrell walked forward and through the door on the opposite side. Harry followed at a sedate pace, looking around at the destruction.
He wondered what all of this was. First, Quirrell had destroyed something with that firestorm, and now he had destroyed this giant chessboard. He failed to understand what was happening. However, one thing was clear – this treasure was something very important if Quirrell was willing to fake his act for an entire year and expend so much magical power. He hoped the idiot expended even more. Things would be easier for him in that case.
Harry looked ahead and had to hold back a grimace as he saw the decapitated carcass of a mountain troll right in the middle of the room. He stepped over the stream of thick blood and saw Quirrell standing in the distance inside what looked like a ring of fire.
There were a few bottles on a table in front of him, and Quirrell picked up the one on the far right before drinking from it. Immediately, the flames came down and he walked forward. Harry waited until he had taken the turn in the distance before walking over. He breathed a sigh of relief when the flames didn't come back up, and he steadily walked forward.
A large open arena greeted him as Harry turned right, and he saw Quirrell standing in the middle in front of a giant mirror. The man seemed to be muttering to himself, and Harry slowly walked forward until he was barely two steps behind him.
With a smirk, Harry slipped his wand through the cloak, its tip gaining a red glow.
Suddenly, his breath was knocked out of him as the strongest banishing hex hit him square in the chest and his back collided against the pillar in the distance. Heaving, Harry slumped down to the floor and breathed harshly, wincing as a sharp pain coursed through his chest.
His cloak was ripped off his body and blearily, he looked up into a pair of malevolent crimson eyes staring back at him through that accursed turban.
All Harry Potter could think of at the moment was what the actual fuck had he gotten himself involved with.
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