Mind Trap

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"...." speeking
'.....' thoughts

To Diagon Alley 1/?


The moment Harry stepped off of platform 9 3/4, his sad, grieving smile turned into a malicious grin of satisfaction. Dumbledore was dead and he was finally free. For years, he had been trapped inside a living, walking, talking, breathing, prison. Since that long ago day in Gordric's Hollow, Dumbledore's magic had held him captive inside his own head, a synthetic personality controlling his words and actions... for the most part. He had escaped once, and peeked through the bars a few times. A sadistic smile as he watched Quirrle burn, a quick few words of Parseltongue during the aborted Dueling Club, rage at Pettigrew's betrayal, a shudder of delight at a Death Eater's screams, wonderfully destructive rage after Sirius's death... And now he was free. As Dumbledore fell, the usurper personality screamed its death rattle while he howled his triumph.

After living with the usurper for nearly sixteen years, it was a simple matter to impersonate the perfect, grieving, vengeful Golden Boy. In truth, he felt more inclined to thank Snape and Malfoy than kill them, but he had a part to act until his seventeenth birthday. Then... then he would take his revenge against those who had wronged him. In his mind, heart, and soul, Harry knew that he was not the person he could have been. If his parents had not died, he would have been innocent, more like Ron, and the stories of his Dad. If Dumbledore had not imprisoned him, he would have been more like the Griffindor he impersonated. But he was not. He was the bitter, supressed, and powerful boy who held a piece of Voldemort's soul. In the back of his mind, ever since hearing what a horcrux was, Harry had known that he was the sixth and Voldemort the seventh.

And now he was determined to take his rightful place, wherever that may be.

Vernon Dursley was waiting for him impatiently. "Move faster, Boy. I want to get home before dark." He made to grab Harry's arm, but missed as Harry stepped out of the way.

"Vernon, I feel that I should inform you that I am no longer the boy you thought I was. The Harry Potter you knew was a product of magic, a person made up by the crackpot charlatan of a Headmaster. I am the real deal, and I will not take any crap from you. Here's five hundred pounds. Forget you ever knew me. Don't contact me." Harry slapped the money into his uncle's sweaty palm and left with his trunks. He took a cab to an address very close to the Leaky Cauldron, where he would stay until his birthday. Vernon went home with very happy news for his family.

***

The Leaky Cauldron was empty of patrons, the sole people there being Tom the barkeeper and a serving maid. Harry looked about quickly, taking in all relevant and seemingly trivial information: twenty feet from the London entrance to the Diagon Alley gate, ten feet from the bar to the stairs, five bottles of Odgen's Firewhiskey above the bar, ten feet from the gate to the stairs, six tables between either entrance and the stairs, no large windows.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?" To say Tom was suprised and confused would be an understatement.

"Don't worry, Tom. I have permission from my family to be here." The barkeeper visibly relaxed. 'So easy to read,' Harry thought. "They understand that with... recent developments, I need to train as much as possible. So here I am, where my only resources are. I can't stay at the school, so this is my only other option. I'll need a room, for atleast a month." Harry played his role to the filt, stumbling over mention of Dubledore's death, letting a tear drip down before unobtrusively wiping it away, hesitating in all the right spots. He was the grief-striken boy-hero, about to throw himself headlong into a self-imposed training regimen.

Tom's face softened. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Would you like to go up to your room now, or will you be going out?"

"I'll be going out, Tom. I need to get training materials. Would you do me two favours?" Tom nodded enthusiasticly. Harry pulled his shrunken trunks from his pockets, which Tom automatically resized for him. Harry took a hooded black cloak from one of them and a small money pouch, before closing it again. Could you take my trunks up to my room, please? And could you recommend someplace where I can get books, other than Flourish and Blott's?"

"Has no one ever told you about the Library? It's located near the entrance to Knockturn Alley. There is a a small rusted iron door, looks like it belongs in a dungeon, in the wall. Stroke your finger across it and it will open. You'll need a permit to take books off of the premises though. But I must tell you, it is more a myth than anything. No one has found the door in decades. But if anyone can find it, it'll be you Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Tom. I'll see you later tonight." Harry headed to the Diagon Alley gate, donning his cloak with a sweeping flourish. The gate opened with a single touch of his finger on the activation brick, which suprised him. He had been about to pull out his wandto tap in the sequence. Harry filed the event away for later analysis, shrugging off his vague feelings of curiosity and unease.

It was mid-afternoon, and there were a fair number of shoppers, but nothing like what it was like during the weeks just before school. Harry moved casually, but directly to the entrance to Knockturn Alley, looking for the door Tom described. He looked very carefully at every crack and crany. It was hidden in a darkly shadowed corner. It did indeed look like it belonged in a medieval dungeon. He was terribly pleased. If it had not been visited in decades, then there was bound to be some lost knowledge. Harry stroked his finger across the door, where the doorhandle should have been. There was a quiet hiss and a tingle of magic shot up his arm, numbing it slightly. The door opened into an antechamber.

It was dimly lit by flickering fires and wall sconces. Lit fireplaces took up three of the four walls, eight other doors like the one Harry had entered through interspersed throughout. Above each door was the name of a specific place: Diagon Alley: England -- Mortal Realm, Wangfujingai Street: China -- Mortal Realm, Camino de Magia: Los Angelos -- Mortal Realm, Neutral Circle -- Higher Divine Plane, Neutral Circle -- Angelic Plane, Neutral Circle -- Demonic Plane, Chaos Plane, Plane of Banishment, and Plane of Shadows. Harry noted the names with curiosity, but quickly turned to his present goal. A huge steel vault door took up the fourth wall.

The room beyond the door was much smaller, but more welcoming then the antechamber. A young looking woman sat behind a large ebony desk, a small brass plaque proclaiming it the Information Desk. Two hallways stretched out to either side, and he could here faint voices and the rustle of pages. "Excuse me?" Harry lowered his head slightly, concealing his features.

"Yes? How may I help you?" Her voice was soothing and melodious. She looked like a sterotyped muggle librarian:chocolate brown hair pulled up into a severe bun, cat's-eye glasses perched on her nose, cardigan sweater, and pencil skirt. It would have been eery if it weren't for the huge silver wings sprouting from her back.

"I just came from Diagon Alley. I was wondering if you could spare some time to tell me about the Library. I have never heard of it before."

Surprise flickered across her face. "Not very many wizards come here any more. Most don't remember it, and those that do think that it is a myth. You are the first wizard here in almost sixty years. But I digress. The Library is the single most comprehensive collection of information and research throughout the Mortal, Divine, Demonic, and minor realms. Every book ever written in any of the realms is here, including personal journals and family histories. Speical permits are required to remove books from the Library, but you are free to take notes out of any of the books. To your right are all books created in the Mortal Realm, and to your left are those made in the other realms. Is there anything else you would like to know?" She peered at him over her glasses, looking at him piercingly.

"Just one more thing. How can I make a subject specific search?" Harry was quite excited by the amount of information at his finger tips.

"You will find a tourquiose box on a pedestal in either of the main rooms beyond. Simply place a specific written description of the books you want in the box, and the books will come to you, on the corresponding recieving pedestal."

"Thank you very much, ma'm. Have a nice day." Harry desperately wanted to start searching the books, but he had to finish his shopping before beginning the training. He bowed slightly to the woman, just a tilting of his torso, before leaving back the way he came. He stepped from the shadowed door and back into Diagon Alley. The iron door fell shut with a quiet clang and disappeared into the shadowy darkness.

Harry made his way casually to Flourish and Blotts. He knew he wouldn't be able to get alot of the books he really wanted there. Not at the moment at least. Maybe when he got better at doing glamours... None the less, he cruised the stacks, looking for anything that might help him. Seventh year school books were automatically added to the basket he carried. Then onto the more advanced books.

Dunstan the Dark's Battle Magic: Theory and Practical, Oculus Malus, Legemegeton Cavicula Salomonis Regis, Beginner's Battle Magic, Moste Vicious Spells, Banned Spells and Rituals: 5000BC to 2000BC, Banned Spells and Rituals: 2000BC to 100AD, Banned Spells and Rituals: 100AD to 1600AD, Banned Spells and Rituals: 1600AD to Present, A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms, Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Geneology, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions, Medical Theory: Beginner's Guide to Healing Magic, Theory of Magic: Spellcrafting, Spellman's Syllabary... the list went on and on, and his basket seemsed to never fill.

Finally, Harry made his way to the front counter. Paying for all the books with cash and keeping his face hidden. He was tired, ehausted even, but only now noticed it. He made his way to the Leaky Cauldron, room 27, and fell asleep still dressed.


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