I do not own Harry Potter or Stargate

Please don't sue

This is my first multi-chapter crossover so please be gentle

I probably should have started with something easier

but the idea wouldn't leave me alone

Part One

Scene One

Harry felt numb. There was no other way to describe it. Sirius was dead; his godfather was dead. That, combined with the belated revelation of the prophecy, had pushed the teen into a state of shock. He needed to think. He needed to be alone.

It wasn't a huge surprise to find himself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The Chamber of Secrets was the one place in all the world that no one could follow him, except Voldemort of course. Fortunately, the dark lord was many miles away.

A pair of green eyes locked onto the snake inscribed on the tap, allowing the optical illusion to work its own brand of magic. "Open," he hissed. Harry dropped into the revealed passageway without so much as glancing over his shoulder. It closed behind him.

The teen's stride was calm and unhurried as he walked down the tunnel. A single wave of his wand was all it took to repair the damage that idiot Lockhart had caused a mere three years before. Funny, it seemed so much longer than that. So much had happened since then.

When Harry entered the main chamber he received a pleasant surprise. The basilisk's corpse was still there of course. Where else would it be? But, it didn't smell. Evidently the species was a hardy one, even in death. For the time being the wizard decided to let the giant snake be.

The chamber was cold, and a bit damp. Harry didn't care though. He had endured much worse conditions. For the moment, all that mattered was that it was quiet. His mind replayed the conversation that had just taken place in the Headmaster's office. A childhood, what a laugh. The teen wasn't certain if he had even been a child, not once the Dursleys got a hold of him. Children were supposed to be happy and carefree, not contemplating where the next threat would come from.

Harry let his head drop into his hands. "Fool," he accused himself. The dark haired teen couldn't believe he had been so stupid. He really should have known better. Growing up with his oh so loving relatives he had lived by certain rules. One, trust no one but yourself. Two, if you fall down you better pick your own self back up because no one will help you. The list progressed from there. Even then, Harry had been a survivor.

Then Hagrid had come. The half-giant had been so, so kind. No one had ever looked at Harry that way before, like he mattered. The boy he had been had wanted so badly to fit in. To be somewhere he fit in. So, he had conformed to their expectations of him, or rather to their expectations of the boy-who-lived.

"I should have known there was a catch," Harry whispered to himself. As the slender figure shifted his attention was drawn to the time turner that had fallen into his robes at the Department of Mysteries. Originally, the teen had intended to return it to Dumbledore. With everything that had happened, it was no surprise the device had been forgotten. Now though, his gaze settled on the time turner, he would keep it. It could be very useful someday. Carefully he set the small item aside.

For too long Harry had played the perfect gryffindor, burying his other attributes underneath the golden boys mask. No more. If he wanted to live, or even survive, the teen knew he needed to give his slytherin side free reign.

It had been naive to think the Headmaster would deal with Voldemort. Harry had dealt with each situation as it came, never thinking of the future. Title or no, he was just a kid. Surly they didn't expect him to defeat the dark lord. The first time had been a fluke. Saving the world wasn't his responsibility. After all, the teen thought mockingly to himself. They can't possibly expect me to defeat the most powerful dark lord of the century. Obviously they did.

To Dumbledore Harry was nothing more than a tool, a weapon. The teen didn't want to know what would become of the tool when it was no longer useful. He needed to start planning for the future. Not just for the dark lord, but for himself as well.

The boy-who-lived would have no place in the wizarding world if he managed to outlive Voldemort. Harry saw that clearly. They had turned on him before, for far more trivial reasons. He still remembered the parseltongue fiasco. If he had known how the wizarding world viewed snakes he would have let the serpent bite his fool of a classmate. It wouldn't have killed the other boy, probably.

Oh well, there was no use dwelling on the past. That wouldn't change it, nor would it bring Sirius back. Honestly, Harry mourned more for the loss of possibilities than the man himself. The older man had represented freedom, protection from the Dursleys. Yes Sirius was, had been his godfather, but the teen hadn't known him, not really. They hadn't had time for that.

The young wizard didn't delude himself by thinking he could solve all his problems at once. There was no book titled How to Become Invincible. He would have to take things one step at a time. Harry cursed the Headmaster as he thought. If he had only known he could have started preparing years ago.

For now, the teen would content himself with two things. The first would be reading material to study over the summer break. Useful information, not a text on how to turn a tortoise into a teapot. When would he need to know that anyway? It would be difficult to do without attracting attention from his well-meaning associates, but not impossible.

The second would be both easier and harder, a muggle education. He would need it once Voldemort was gone. Harry refused to think his death at the hand of the other was inevitable. He would fight, and he would win. A smirk flashed across the teen's features. It would probably be the only nice thing Aunt Petunia would ever do for him. It would thrill the horse-faced woman to know he was turning away from his freakish ways. Ensuring the Dursleys' silence on the matter would not be difficult. If he was lucky they would allow him to use Dudley's old computer to take on-line classes. That would attract far less attention than daily trips to the library.

Harry knew it wouldn't be easy. He had years of make-up work to do. If anyone had ever asked the teen's opinion, he would have said that the exclusion of muggle subjects at Hogwarts was stupid. Shock of shocks, no one ever had. Now that he thought about it, no one had ever asked his opinion on a serious matter period. They all just assumed.

The teen's gaze wandered back to the time turner. Yes, the device would be incredibly useful, and unlike Hermione he would remember to account for extra sleep. For such a brilliant girl she could be very stupid at times.

As Harry glanced down at his watch he was shocked to see how much time had passed. If he didn't get back soon, someone would start to wonder. The teen almost didn't notice he was mentally preparing an excuse to give his friends. It wasn't that he didn't trust them. He did, he insisted to himself.

However, Harry could deny that just about everyone he knew, who wasn't on Voldemort's side, worshiped the ground Albus Dumbledore walked on. If nothing else, the events of the last day had taught the teen one lesson. The Headmaster would do everything he could to preserve the greater good, but for Harry he was not to be trusted.

Scene Two

Harry refused to squirm under the penetrating blue eyes of the older man. He had done nothing wrong. Unfortunately, it seemed others disagreed.

"I am very disappointed in you my dear boy," Dumbledore said at last.

The younger wizard bit back a response about how he wasn't the Headmaster's boy. Tipping his hand at this juncture would not be a good thing. Slowly Harry counted backwards from ten. He couldn't afford to lose his temper. "Whatever for Headmaster?" he asked instead.

"You killed Richard DuMorne."

"He would have killed that girl if I hadn't," Harry defended himself. Really, the other made it sound like he had murdered DuMorne in cold blood.

"Still, everyone deserves a fair trial. DuMorne could have redeemed himself. After all," Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he spoke. "Everyone should have a second chance."

There were so many things wrong with that sentence Harry didn't even know where to begin. First off, since when were trials in the wizarding world fair? The so-called justice system was a joke, and a bad one at that. It wasn't like Azkaban was so secure either. If a Death Eater didn't manage to buy his freedom outright, ten to one Voldemort would break them out sooner rather than later.

"And what about all the people he has killed?" Harry said at last. "What about their second chances?" So many people would still be alive if the Wizarding World had just taken care of the Death Eaters when Voldemort fell the first time. Instead they had been content to bury their heads in the sand. Hoping if they couldn't see it than it wasn't there.

"That doesn't mean we should lower ourselves to their level," Dumbledore chided. Inwardly, he was annoyed. How dare this child contradict him. His word was law.

The teen refused to be cowed. He met the Headmaster's eyes squarely. "This is war, and in war people die."

Albus sighed, letting the matter go. Let the boy do what he wanted. Harry would learn better soon enough. "There is still the matter of you killing him." Dumbledore fixed the younger wizard with a firm gaze. "I am concerned you are walking the paths Tom tread long ago."

Green eyes flashed with anger. "I am nothing like Voldemort," he hissed. "I would never use magic for no other reason than to cause pain and death." He had killed DuMorne by banishing him down a stairway slicked with ice. The man had broken his neck. Harry was no fool. He knew he couldn't compete knowledge-wise with wizards decades his senior. But, he was creative. The littlest things could cause a great deal of damage if used properly.

For a brief moment Dumbledore looked satisfied before his expression smoothed over. So Harry hadn't been experimenting. Good, that would make him easier to deal with later. "I am sorry my dear boy," he apologized. "I had to make sure." In truth, he wasn't sorry at all. "Lemon drop?" the Headmaster offered, popping one into his mouth.

The teenager politely declined. He had never been fond of the sweets, even before he learned the older wizard laced them with a mild truth serum. It certainly explained why no one ever felt any qualms about confiding in the Headmaster.

After Harry left the room Dumbledore sighed. It had been so much easier when the boy was younger. Back then the other would have never dreamed of questioning him. The Headmaster wondered when that had changed. "No matter," he said to himself. "When Voldemort is gone then I will take care of the problem that is Harry Potter." Mind appeased, the wizard went about his daily routine, unknowing, or perhaps uncaring, of Fawke's disapproving gaze.


Hope this is okay, the next chapter will be up ASAP

The story is already written, I just need to type it

Please review; it makes me a happy author