Chapter 7
Dumbledore reclined in his chair as he watched Harry leave his office. A proud and happy smile formed on his face thinking about the discussion the two had. The old man was really enjoying their meetings, that much he was certain of. At heart, Dumbledore was a scholar, a teacher. He absolutely loved teaching others, which is one of the main reasons he stayed as Hogwarts headmaster when he had other important positions, as well.
After... after that dreadful event where his sister perished, and his lover left him, Dumbledore found solace in teaching. His happiest memories were of the days when he was the Transfiguration Professor in Hogwarts.
Dumbledore stood up and walked in front of the mirror he had placed in his office before Harry came for their meeting. He had placed it in plain sight for the boy to see as soon as he entered. And Dumbledore was not disappointed with the outcome. Just thinking about how the boy had taken one glance at the mirror, scanned it up and down before immediately starting off with his questions, made him swell with pride. Even he had trouble looking away from the mirror, yet the boy had done it without a second thought.
"The Mirror of Erised." Dumbledore gently touched the surface of the mirror. "I show not your face but your heart's desire," He muttered, looking at the image he was shown.
Dumbledore was younger and without his grey hair and beard. He would even dare call himself handsome. Next to him was his poor, poor sister, but she was happy with a bright smile on her face. His younger brother was next to her, staring at him with a proud look on his face. But most importantly, his lover was there as well. Standing right next to him as his equal.
Dumbledore closed his eyes and calmed himself, stopping the tears that were about to burst. He opened his eyes and looked at the mirror again, but the image he was seeing was different. He was older this time, and his time was obviously coming to an end. His family wasn't there, but Albus had a proud smile as he looked towards an older Harry. A Harry that was leading the Wizarding Wolrd to a better future.
"If only he saw the same image as me," Dumbledore muttered. He had asked him what he saw, and Harry had easily answered. The boy had seen himself surrounded by figures of whom Harry was able to recognize only a few of them. Neither of which were from the Wizarding World. That greatly worried Dumbledore. If Harry didn't see himself as part of the Wizarding World, then who was supposed to lead them in the future? He dearly hoped that he would be able to change the boy's mind. Otherwise, he didn't even want to think of what the future of the Wizarding Would would end up being.
Still, Dumbledore was so impressed with Harry looking away from the mirror, that he had ended up giving him the Invisibility Cloak of the boy's father. That wasn't the only reason he had given it to him, though. Dumbledore had told Harry to use the cloak whenever he came for their meetings since he wasn't supposed to be seen showing such favoritism to one of the students. He had planned to give it to him as a Christmas present, but he knew the boy would appreciate a book far more than that. One from his personal collection or even one about Transfiguration written by him.
Albus chuckled at the thought of how the boy already had two of three Deathly Hallows. The irony. Both Dumbledore and Grindelwald had searched for those items for years, decades, but Harry already had two of them, and he was only 11 years old. He was more than certain that the boy would end up collecting all three of them. It was only a matter of time.
Dumbledore wondered what would happen when all three of them were in the hands of a single person. According to the stories, the owner would become the Master of Death, but he knew better. No mortal could possibly have that title. No mortal could ever be the master of a primordial force like death. Still, no had ever owned all three items at the same time, and the scholar within him wanted to know what would happen. Maybe absolutely nothing, or maybe something he wouldn't have ever expected. Only time will tell. Now, he had to return back the mirror.
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Monday morning had all of the first-years quite excited. All four houses had DADA and Flying Lessons that day. The breakfast was boisterous with the boys and some of the girls having a competition of who could tell the most absurd flying story. They spoke about how they've flown on brooms, maneuvering through houses and avoiding the notice of Muggles. Draco was even boasting about escaping from flying metal contraptions. At least Malfoy had learned his lesson and was avoiding even looking at him.
Harry, well, he was wondering why did they have to use brooms out of all things to fly? Did the Wizarding World have to be so stereotypical? And isn't flying on a broom quite dangerous and easy to fall off?
He had asked one of his housemates if there are other flying items like flying carpets or something else. He was told that they are, but they were all banned in Europe. Every single one was forbidden. That begged the question, why? Aren't flying carpets safer than brooms, so why are they banned?
The answer to that question was simple. Quidditch. The most popular magical sport in Europe, in which the players use brooms to fly. Because of the stupid sport, every single flying item, besides brooms, was banned in Europe. Harry wasn't sure if that, or the stories the kids were telling, was the more ridiculous thing.
At least he learned that flying carpets weren't banned in the USA. Harry promised himself that he would buy one once he finds a magical community like Diagon Alley there. Jean was having a bit of trouble flying on her own since she had far less experience than him, so he will fly her around on his magical carpet.
Harry's first class for the day was DADA, and he was utterly and bitterly disappointed by it. Professor Quirrell was a complete mess. He was stuttering through the whole class and teaching them by the books like Professor Binns. Harry wasn't sure which one was the worst. The one that couldn't complete a sentence without stuttering or the one that talked with a monotonous voice. Either way, it seemed that he would have to self-study if he wanted to make some kind of progress there.
Flying lessons went a little bit better. Although, as luck would have it, Harry still encountered a problem.
Their Professor, Madam Rolanda Hooch, had short spiky grey hair and yellow hawk-like eyes. She arrived precisely on time and brought the brooms for the lesson. She placed them on the ground and looked towards the kids.
"Come on. Stop dillydallying, stand next to a broom."
Harry walked up to one and looked at it carefully. The broom was old, and a few of the twigs seemed to be missing. He wondered if this was safe, but the Professor wouldn't bring them if they weren't. Right?
"Stick our you hand over the broom!" Madam Hooch commanded once every kid was standing next to one. "Now say 'Up!'"
"Up!" Once the words left his mouth, the broom flew in his hand. 'Interesting. Why did we have to do this and not simply pick it up?'
Madam Hooch then explained how to correctly mount a broom and how to control it. Once she was sure that everyone understood it, it was time to do some flying.
"Now, I want you all to angle your broom slightly upward and push off with your feet."
Harry found that flying with a broom wasn't as bad and uncomfortable as he had expected it to be. It was even somewhat enjoyable. But nothing lasts forever, and all good things must come to an end.
Harry was about 20 feet in the air when his broom started shaking uncontrollably. It was swinging him left and right while bringing him higher and higher. No matter what he did, the broom refused to be controlled. Before the situation could get any worse, he jumped off the broom.
The rest of the students who saw him let out gasps of fear. Harry was more than 30 feet high in the air when he jumped, and they thought that he would break his legs or even die. They certainly didn't expect him to land on the ground and walk it off.
"Well, that could've gone better," Harry said nonchalantly. If it was anyone else in his situation, they would've at least suffered severe injuries. Harry had his telekinesis to cushion his landing at the last moment, but they didn't have that luxury. There was the Softening Charm, but he didn't think that anyone had learned it at that point.
Everyone, including Madam Hooch, was staring at him in wonder. They had just seen him fall from over 30 feet as if it was the most normal thing in the world, looking no worse for wear. The soft thud of the broom falling on the ground brought them out of their stupor.
Terry was standing next to Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein. "Harry says that all the stories about him are false, but... do you think there might be some truth to them? I mean, we just saw him leap from over 30 feet and land without any injuries!" He said.
"I don't know," said Michael. "But that was bloody awesome!"
Madam Hooch picked up the broom and inspected it. "Two of the charms have lost their effects. Weird, I inspected them this morning," she muttered. "But we do need newer brooms, those are already 20 years old. Maybe this would be a wake-up call for the Board of Governors."
Since he was free for the rest of the day, Harry made his way to the library to search for an alarm clock spell. It took him some time, but he did find one, Horologium. He also found a spell that showed him the exact time, Tempus. Harry then found an empty classroom to test them out. The time spell he succeeded on his first try since it wasn't a hard one. The alarm clock one, Harry had to cast on himself, and he placed an alarm to ring after one hour. He then closed his eyes and began reading the books he had stored in his mind.
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Daphne was suspicious. Harry always seemed to know what's on her mind. So, she went through the library looking for books that could explain that. The only information she managed to find was a book about Occlumency. The act of magically closing one's mind against Legilimency and preventing people from entering your mind. It spoke how to defend yourself against Legilimens even if you weren't an Occlumens. Simply avoid eye contact.
However, there was still a problem with that. Daphne wasn't sure if Harry was using Legilimency since she had never seen him chant or use his wand to do it. He was a skilled wizard, that much was obvious, but supposedly it took years for a practitioner to be able to use Legilimency both wandlessly and nonverbally. Still, that was the only information she found out and decided to test her theory out.
Daphne looked through the empty classrooms since she knew Harry liked to use them to practice. She found the one he was using, sitting on a chair with his eyes closed.
'Is he sleeping? Or maybe he's practicing Occlumency?' she wondered and walked up to him.
"Harry," she called out to him and immediately looked down, avoiding eye contact with him.
Harry's eyes snapped open and saw Daphne in front of him, looking a bit fidgety.
'If I don't look at him, he can't read my mind,' she was thinking.
"I can't read your mind if that's what you are thinking," Harry told her with an amused voice. That wasn't a lie since he didn't see people's thoughts in the form of a text but rather heard them.
"What?" Daphne's head snapped towards him before immediately looking down. 'How is he doing this?'
"How can I help you, Daphne?" he asked her.
Daphne opened her mouth, but no words came out of it. She wanted to ask him so many things, but she wasn't sure where to start. She also felt so... exposed in front of him. Feeling that he could see her deepest secrets.
"What were you doing?" she decided to ask.
"I was reading," he said with an amused smile on his face.
"But... you had your eyes closed. And there are no books here? How were you reading?" she asked. 'Is he lying, or playing a trick on me? Why would he do that?'
"I have a gift. I can remember everything that I've ever seen. I can look through a book once and then read in my free time," Harry explained without going into details.
"I see." She didn't really. She couldn't understand that. "I wanted to talk with you," she then said.
"We are already talking," he replied.
Daphne looked up to see his amused smile and slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be an arse!"
"I wanted to ask you about your comment about the Wizarding World. How you don't feel that your place is here. You are an Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter. You are practically royalty. Plus, you are the one that stopped You-Know-Who when you were just a baby! You are one of the most famous wizards, and you are still only 11!" Placed in a situation she couldn't understand, Daphne lost her icy behavior.
"The only reason I came here was to study Magic." And to prepare to deal with Voldemort, but he wouldn't tell her that. That was his problem to deal with. "And truthfully, the Wizarding Wolrd isn't to my liking."
Dumbledore had left Harry with his abusive relatives at the age of 1. The old man was trying to make up for that, but he would never forget it. The wizards and witches were also racist bigots. Not all of them were like that, but the ones in power, the ones that mattered most were. He learned that through Draco's memories of his father, someone who was on the Board of Governors and had the ear of the Minister of Magic. The Wizarding Wolrd was simply not to his liking. He will stay in contact with it in the future, but he would never see himself as part of it.
Then there was Jean. Having to spend time away from her hurt him. Without her by his side, Harry felt like a piece of him was missing. He had no one to talk with about the most random of things for hours and hours. No one that truly understood him. As much as he liked studying magic, he would've preferred to be doing it with Jean by his side.
If Harry wasn't taken away from his relatives, it would've been a different story. He would've seen the Wizarding World as his chance to escape from them. A place where he would be accepted for who he was. This wasn't the case, however. He already had a place like that.
"You've already made your mind on this, haven't you?" she asked.
"Yes," Harry said without hesitation.
"What are you planning to do in the future if you aren't going to stay in the Wizarding World?" she asked.
"Well, I learned that I was left with quite the inheritance, so even if I don't do a thing, I could probably live a luxurious life without a care. But before I came to Hogwarts, I wanted to study science and try to get a job at the Baxter Building."
"The Baxter Building? What's that?" Daphne asked, having no knowledge of the Muggle world.
"The home of the Fantastic Five!" Seeing how confused Daphne was, he asked. "You actually don't know about the Fantastic Five?"
"Oh, wow!" Harry exclaimed when Daphne shook her head. "The Fantastic Five consist of Mr. Fantastic, The Human Torch, The Thing, The Invisible Woman, and Psi-Lord."
Harry then began telling her of what their recorded abilities are and what they've accomplished. To Daphne, everything sounded almost made up. The Invisible Woman and Psi-Lord had powers that resembled that of wizards and witches, but the other three were a different story.
"And they aren't magical?" Daphne asked.
"As far as I know, no, they aren't magical," he said. "I will tell you more about them, but I'm starting to feel a bit peckish."
"Tempus." Harry used the new spell he learned, and it showed him that it's 6:30 PM.
Time passed, and soon one month had gone by since he came to Hogwarts. The ranking of the students was then released in each of the common rooms of the four houses. At the top of the first-years was Harry's name with Hermione Granger following behind him. He proudly smiled and entered his room. He spotted a door that wasn't there when he had woken up in the morning.
"Finally," he said and confidently opened the door. In front of him, there were twelve bookshelves, and above them, there was a large perch with a massive eagle with grey feathers resting on it. The bird studied Harry with its intelligent yellow eyes.
Right underneath the eagle, there was a painting of a beautiful and noble-looking woman with black hair. Like the eagle, she was also examining Harry.
'Another one that would probably fail,' he heard the thoughts of the eagle. It had seen thousands of students that have been given this chance, yet none had managed to succeed.
"Oh, I don't plan on failing," Harry said with confidence oozing out of him. The startled look of both the woman in the painting and eagle made him laugh out loud.
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