Yes, I know I should be working on The Enemy of My Father, but I'm having a -serious- case of writer's block. Therefore, this. This is inspired by SilverWolf7007.
Petunia Dursley opened the door, looked down, and screamed. Her rather large husband ran down the stairs and peered over her shoulder. At their feet lay one Harry Potter, a note laying on his blanket-wrapped chest. Petunia bent shakily down, picked the note up, and the both of them read it, eyes slowly widening to the size of pancakes.
"Petunia, dear?" Vernon's voice shook. "What should we do?"
"Just what this note says, Vernon." The man was surprised to hear a note of malice in her voice. "We shall raise him as our son. Of course, this whole thing about attempting to squash his magic is ridiculous. No. We'll raise him, and send him to that man as a demon." Vernon had to admit his wife was scaring him.
"But what about our Duddykins?" He asked, his voice almost whimpering.
"Oh, he'll help." Petunia picked the now-squalling child up. "You'll see."
"Mister. You. Sit down!" The teacher stared at the unruly boy in round glasses who was sitting backwards on his desk, staring out the window, bouncing slightly.
"I am sir." He said cheekily.
"In your chair!" The teacher pulled the boy off the desk and plopped him into his chair. The child glared at him. He glared right back, then walked to the front of the classroom. Some of the students snickered.
"Good one Har." He heard the boy's cousin whisper.
"Thank you D." Was the reply.
"Pink's not really his color." A young girl mused. The teacher ran to his personal closet, unlocking it and opening the door to look in his mirror. His hair was pink...and sparkled.
"Harry! Harry! You're letter's arrived!" Dudley ran down the hall, waving an envelope.
"Sweet!" Harry ripped it open and pulled the papers out, handing the packet for muggle parents to his uncle.
"Huh. Says they'll send someone to 'assist' you." Vernon said, reading over the papers he'd been handed. "And what's this about leaving our response out for their 'owl'?"
"They'll have one of their postal owls watching the house." Petunia called from the kitchen. "Come set the table Dudders."
"Yes mum." Dudley pretended to slouch, but he was happy to set the table. After all, if he set Harry would clear.
A sharp-eyed witch arrived the next day to talk to the Dursleys and take Harry for his supplies. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and was quite proper.
The two boys, red-haired twins with mischievous eyes, that Harry met in Diagon Alley were less proper. The Professor seemed to know them, and refused to leave Harry alone with them. Harry didn't mind, he got enough information without her leaving.
Hmm. What have we...oh, oh my. Yes, I see. Hmm. The Sorting Hat mumbled into Harry's brain.
Can you get on with it? Oh, and if I have a choice I'd like to be with the Weasley twins. Harry rolled his eyes at the old thing on his head.
Yes, yes. GRYFFINDOR! Harry took the hat off and trotted to sit in the space the twins opened between them.
Harry didn't mind his dorm mates. Ron was a bit annoying what with his brother-envy. Dean was muggle-oriented, and might prove useful. Seamus was a bit uptight, and Neville was habitually clumsy. Harry decided he wanted to deal with Neville first. After all, the boy was really sweet, he just had self-esteem issues.
The first week of classes, or however much of it actually existed, was okay, and Harry had been invited to Hagrid's hut after potions on Friday, but then the class actually happened, and he realized he had something he had to do.
"Hey Neville, tell Hagrid I'll be down as soon as I can?" Harry had invited Neville to go with him, and the boy had sounded so happy. "I need to stay after a sec." The boy was so terrified of their professor that he just nodded.
Harry packed his bag and cauldron, then waited as the rest of the class filed out, not even the Slytherins lingering. When the door closed he watched Professor Snape look up, and catch sight of him.
"I believe I dismissed the class, Mister Potter." Professor Snape said tetchily.
"All due respect, sir." Harry used the words his uncle had taught him. "Do you have a problem with me?" He watched his Professor's face very carefully, and was rewarded with the slight widening of his eyes. The Slytherin wasn't going to give him much to work with, but he had his Aunt Petunia for that. "Because it feels like you're taking out a grudge on me, and it can't be against me because I know you loved my mum but hated my dad." He crossed his arms, but inside he was wondering if he was about to die. Then he realized he really didn't care.
"What do you know?" Professor Snape stalked forwards, glowering and doing his best to intimidate. Only problem was Harry could hear the shock and fear in his voice.
"Aunt Petunia forgave her sister, and raised me like a son. She also told me my father was a..." He screwed his eyes up, concentrating... "'rude, obnoxious, overbearing prat who had bad taste in friends', and she didn't like you either, but she liked Serious Black even less."
"Sirius." Apparently Harry had shocked his Professor into correcting the name of his worst enemy. "S-i-r-i-u-s."
"Whatever." Harry, confident that he wasn't about to be hexed into oblivion, turned and rummaged in his bag. "She also told me to give you this." He handed the man an envelope, then picked up his gear and walked out.
With the understanding that he will put aside his Issues with your father, not that we blame him, and assist you in any way he can, we have disclosed the nature of your Condition to Severus Snape, your potions professor. He has agreed, though is unhappy about how much you remind him of James Potter, and we have made him your legal guardian in your world.
Now that that's over with, how have classes been? Are you making any friends? Do tell us all about school. And remember to send Dudley's letters to the house. We can't have owls flying about his school.
What mum's saying is they told the bat-man about the A., and they made him an uncle for you. He said we couldn't call him 'Uncle' but he just makes angry-eyes when I do so it should be fine, just don't do it in class. I think he might kill you if you do.
Anyways, Hedwig's wicked-cool. Mum's glaring so I have to stop writing. Have fun with the bat-man and the old coot.
"Looks like Longbottom dropped something." Draco Malfoy stood, Neville's remembrall in his hand, as Madame Hooch took Neville to the hospital wing.
"Give it here, Malfoy." Harry said, stepping forwards, an intense glare on his face.
"Or what?" Draco asked, his voice quavering a bit. After all, Harry was very good at glaring. He was also very good at changing the color of people's hair.
Crabbe snorted. Goyle joined him. The Gryffs cracked up, Seamus and Ron literally rolling on the ground.
"What?" Draco asked again, then, "fine, take it." He thrust the ball into Harry's hands.
"Too late." Harry replied, tossing the ball into his hood for safekeeping.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, sounding like he wanted to run.
"Looks like you forgot something." Was all Harry would say, happy to watch Malfoy run around like a chicken with its head cut off until Hermione transfigured a mirror and he saw his hair, now a foggy red. Then he realized all of his hair was a foggy red.
After all, Harry had a history of turning hair different colors.
Harry was bored. Harry decided it was time for everyone to wake up. It was 6am. On a Saturday.
"Harry?" Neville cracked an eye open. "Why are you sitting on me?"
"Wakey, wakey." Harry grinned.
"Okay, I'm awake." Neville knew by now not to argue. Harry's grin widened, and he got off his friend so he could wake Dean.
Dean was a little harder to wake up that Neville, but he too woke up, though with a groan of complaint when he saw the time.
Seamus tried to throw Harry off. Apparently the Dursleys had given Harry horseback riding lessons because he stuck to Seamus like a cowboy to a bucking bronco, like Victor Krum to a broom. He also dodged the punches thrown his way.
Finally, "geroff Harry, I'm up, I'm up," accompanied the disgusted look on Seamus' face. Then it was time to wake Ron.
"Harry, you're insane, you know that?" Seamus grumbled, pulling his robes on. Harry pouted.
"You are mate." Dean added, watching Harry sneak out. He shared a worried glance with the others, then waited. It didn't take long for Harry to return...Lee Jordan's tarantula in his hands. He put the spider carefully on Ron's face, and stepped back to watch.
"Harry? I don't know if this is a good idea." Neville said from the other side of the room.
"Of course it is!" Harry grinned, watching Ron's eyes flutter open...and freeze.
Minerva wasn't used to seeing all of her little lions at breakfast on a Saturday, yet when she walked into the Great Hall there they were, most grumbling and looking at their food with murderous glares. She walked the length curiously, trying to figure out what was going on. Many of the students seemed to be sending glares up at the rafters, so she looked up.
Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, was crouched above the Slytherin table, a broom in his hand, his eyes locked on the Gryffs. He had a strange glint in his eyes, yet seemed to be afraid for his life.
"Mister Potter get down here this instant!" Minerva shouted, heart in her throat. The boy shook his head. "What do you mean shaking your head at me?" She was starting to get angry.
"Tell them they're not allowed to kill me." He called, his young voice high.
"What? No one's going to kill you!" Minerva started, but she was close enough to one Ronald Weasley to hear his response to her words.
"Don't be so sure." Ron muttered into his plate.
"Oh for heavens sake," Minerva swept her lions with a glare. "No one is allowed to kill Harry Potter." She made sure to catch the assent of each and every one, then turned her glare back to the boy in question. She didn't expect to see the grin and shrug as he happily flew down.
"Honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends." Ron Weasley, prat extraordinaire, made Hermione cry. Harry ran after her, of course, and spent the next few hours in a girl's bathroom, finally convincing Hermione that she should ignore Ron and go to the Halloween feast. Then the troll came in. Hermione screamed, the echoes confusing it. Harry didn't wait. He'd had long practice dodging adults, and a troll is just a really big, really stupid adult.
Harry grabbed Hermione, counted the first swing, and just as it demolished the stalls he pulled the frantic, frozen Hermione around the troll and into the hall, slamming the door behind, and grinning when he saw the key.
"Hey, Hermione." He shook her. "Make a loud noise with your wand! She did so, still in shock, and it took less than a minute for Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell to arrive.
"Well I, what are you two doing here?" He had her hands on her hips. "Why aren't you in the common room with the other students?"
"Ron made Hermione cry and I'd just convinced her to go to the feast when the troll came in." Harry said bluntly. "It's in the loo."
"You weren't at the feast?" McGonagall asked, looking between the two. Harry put his arm protectively around Hermione, and glared up at his Head of House.
"No, ma'am." Hermione gasped out, trying not to cry.
"Oh my." McGonagall gathered her dignity. "Well, I'm glad you two are alright. Now go straight to the Tower. The others are finishing the feast there." The two scampered off.
Harry spent the time between Christmas and Finals trying to figure out why Dumbledore trusted Hagrid. About the time Dumbledore was summoned away he realized it was because he wanted his secrets to get out, which means he wanted someone to try for the Stone.
So, of course, Hermione, Harry, and Neville traipsed to the 3rd floor, got past Fluffy, flamed the Devil's Snare, and stood in the key room.
"This is stupid." Harry said. "If you want to protect something don't leave the key to the door flying around. I mean, Fluffy's fine, but the trap door should have been locked too, and the plant should have been across the passage so that you land on stone and break a leg, then have to get past it. This is just getting dumb."
"Harry! Dumbledore wouldn't do something stupid! He obviously wants you to protect the stone!" Hermione said, scandalized.
"Of course." Harry grabbed a broom. "Because eleven-year-olds are supposed to protect the things their adults are too stupid to protect well."
In the chess room Harry snorted. "Help me out hey?" He said to the others. "Wingardum Leviosa," he pointed his wand at the raised board. Hermione and Neville joined him, and the entire contraption flew over their heads. The ran under, still pointing their wands, and it slammed to the ground behind them.
The troll was, of course, out cold, and then there were the potions.
Hermione figured out which was which, which was a cool piece of logic.
"Obviously the bottles refill." Harry said. "Or the littlest one would be empty. So, I'll go forwards, you two go back. Then one of you comes forwards and the other goes back, then the last comes forwards, hey?"
And that's what they did. Soon enough all three were faced with Quirrell, but Harry was more interested in the mirror.
"So that's where Erised went!" Harry said, ignoring the turban'd man in favor of running to see the mirror. He looked in, but instead of his family he saw Dumbledore being sensible.
"Use the boy." A voice, a strange voice that made Hermione and Neville freeze, said.
"Boy, what do you see?" Quirrell asked.
"Dumbledore holding the key to a muggle safe-deposit box." Harry answered truthfully.
"The other boy!" Harry was thrown across the room and Neville was forced in front of the mirror.
"What do you see?"
"My...my parents! They're sane! They love me!" Neville collapsed.
"The girl then!" The voice was distinctly unhappy. Neville found himself next to Harry, who wrapped the crying boy in his arms.
"Well girl?" Hermione's face was suffused with joy.
"I've passed all my classes!" She glowed. "I'm top of the class!" And at that moment Dumbledore swept in.
"Harr...Hermione? Neville? What are you two doing here? Harry wasn't supposed to have anyone this far along!"
"Well I wouldn't if I wanted to protect the Stone. I just wanted to see how well it was protected so I didn't see why I should make them go back." Harry said absently, watching Quirrell. "Gonna take the turban off?"
Nobody really knew what happened after that, but everyone lived...except Quirrell. Not really sure how he died though.
A/N: So. How insane am I? Really? Do tell me in a review.