Disclaimer: I, Siripiritus, do not in any way, shape, or form, own Harry Potter and the characters that go with him and the books. They belong to the wonderful imagination of a lady by the name of JK Rowlings, whom I admire and perceive as one of the greatest minds of all time. I am merely borrowing them as a source of amusement for myself and hopefully others.


Mind Games

Chapter One

Harry Potter breathed heavily in relief as he plopped down next to his best friend, Ron Weasley, seconds before the bell rang. He silently thanked whomever was listening that Snape wasn't there yet to berate him and give him a detention. Hermione Granger, Harry's other best friend, glared disapprovingly at his tardiness, and truth be told, the disarray of his robes.

"Harry you're a mess! You shouldn't have been so late to class. You
know that this year
is important because of OWLS. You need to be a bit more vigilant in
your studies,
Harry," scorned Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes, and Ron snickered,
but quickly turned it into a cough when Hermione turned her attention to him.

"Yeah mate, 'Mione's right. You looked like you were being chased by Trelawny wearing a wedding dress and shouting her undying love for you the way you barged into the classroom like that. Not to mention your hair looks even worse then usual. No offense of course," added Ron hastily.

"Well if a certain redhead would have woken me up, I might have been here on time," said Harry with a pointed glare at Ron. Ron grimaced.

"Erm . . . sorry 'bout that mate. I honestly thought you were already down in the Great Hall at breakfast. Didn't occur to me that you might still be in bed," said Ron. Harry sighed, his annoyance at Ron lessening.

"It's okay. Just, next time make sure my bed's empty, ok?" asked Harry. Ron grinned and slapped him on the back. Harry winced as Ron slapped a particularly nasty bruise he had acquired on the way down to class.

"Sure mate. Won't happen again," promised Ron. Harry smiled gratefully.

Harry had overslept, and thanks to his thoughtful, notice the sarcasm dripping from the aforementioned word, roommates, he was late. But, as fate would have it, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, who was also known for his profound "luck", would again be lucky today as he sure enough made it just in time for the dreaded potions class.

Although, running through the halls, falling down five of steps on the staircase that led to the dungeons, and plowing through the Bloody Baron's icy spirit could be considered unlucky, or perhaps just plain stupid. Especially counting the bruise on his left thigh from tripping over Mrs. Norris as he left Gryffindor tower.

Harry winced as the door to the Potion's classroom banged open. What one might consider to be some sort of large, slightly deformed, and quite ugly bat with what appeared to be some sort of coughed up grease ball atop its head at first glance entered the room, but in truth the vile creature was really just an ugly, despicable, and down right rude human bei- erm man. I don't think many people would agree with the "human being" part.

Professor Severus Snape, current Potion's Master of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Head of Slytherin House sneered at the Gryffindors and looked indifferently towards his own house. Although, if one looked closely enough, they could detect a hint of a smirk on his otherwise sneering features.

"Well, what are you all staring at? The ingredients are on the board. Get to work now!" barked Snape as he took his seat behind his desk.

Frightened, and smug students respectively, jumped to attention and gathered their caldrons and ingredients together. They then got to work on what was supposedly a mild form of a Latk ro Dimn Thwics Potion, which would allow the user a chance to talk mentally with someone of their choosing for two to six hours depending on the amount of dosage.

As Harry was carefully slicing the Boomslang skin in quarter inch pieces, something occurred to him. This potion's ingredients were very similar to the Polyjuice Potion he and his friends had made during their first year. Well, mostly Hermione brew it, but he still helped a little.

While Harry had leaned over to quietly whisper his thoughts on the potion to Hermione, he failed to notice Draco Malfoy rise from his chair and calmly walk towards the student cupboards. Nor did he notice that as Malfoy passed by his table, he slipped something that had no right to be in that certain potion in the potion in question. Again Harry did not notice Draco Malfoy's malicious smirk as he again bypassed Harry's table on the way back to his own table.

Indeed, Harry was too preoccupied with the smoke now emitting from Neville's caldron to notice such small, insignificant details like the aforementioned.

"Longbottom you incompetent fool! What have you done wrong now?!?" shouted Snape as he stalked over to Neville's corner of the room. Snape took care of the potion with a wave of his wand before it had a chance to do something harmful, like exploding, but he still just had to give Neville, who was mumbling apologizes, what for.

". . . fool boy . . . your incompetence amazes me . . . daft imbecile . . ."

Too preoccupied with the tongue lashing Snape was giving Neville, Harry also didn't notice that his potion, which had been the correct color of sky blue, turn a nasty grayish color. And again, the ever so oblivious Harry Potter did not seem to notice that he potion was starting to bubble, no boil actually. Only when the potion started spitting out the scalding, gray goop onto his robes, did he notice.

"BLOODY HELL," Ron exclaimed as he ducked under the table, pulling Hermione, who was about to start reprimanding him on his choice of foul language, below the table with him. Ron tried to grab Harry's arm also as he went, but by then it was already too late. With a deafening boom, the potion exploded right in Harry's face.

Not only did Harry's potion explode, and also the world in front of him. It exploded in a sea of red, blue, and green flashing colors, and a weird tingly feeling in the back of his head was bothering him greatly. He was sure he had got some of the potion in his mouth, for it tasted strangely of roasted pecans. He just hoped the potion wasn't detrimental to his health. He couldn't very well defeat Slytherin this Quidditch season in he was rotting six feet under.

All the sudden, Harry felt as if he was floating away. He was weightless, drifting upon the nonexistent breeze in the dungeon classroom. Harry's last coherent thought before he lost consciousness was, "I sure as hell hope Snape doesn't give me a detention for this . . ."


A/N: Well, there's the first chapter. I just suddenly got this idea a couple of days ago, and decided to write it down. For those of you who are reading my other story, I am sorry to say that I'm putting it on hold for right now. I'll probably get it updated in about a week or two, maybe. I just kind of hit a barrier, or more commonly known as writer's block. But do not fear, I will finish it, just not in the immediate future.

Please review and tell me what you think of this story so far!!!