Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Burn, Baby, Burn!

Pyro Harry and the Philosopher's Stone

by DarkSyaoran 1 review

Pyromaniac Harry's first year at Hogwarts.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Humor - Characters: Harry, Hermione, Professor McGonagall, Quirinus Quirrell, Ron - Warnings: [!!!] [?] [V] - Published: 2006-05-17 - Updated: 2007-08-13 - 3307 words - Complete


Authors Notes: This is in no way connected with the first ficlet apart from the fact that Harry's a pyromaniac. The following ficlet is set in Harry's first year, around the time they try to stop 'Snape' getting the Philosophers Stone.


Harry smiled grimly as Hagrid, the large man who rescued him from the Dursley's, explained how to put Fluffy to sleep. He loved the man for what he did, really he did. Getting him away from the Dursley's made him a good guy in Harry's book but the man was an idiot, plain and simple. He just didn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

Ignoring the rest of what the large man was saying, he turned and headed towards the castle. If he could get his hands on the stone he could do all sorts of things like turn metal into gold, thus becoming the richest person in the world, or even use the Elixir of Life to live longer like Nicholas Flamel before him. The possibilities made him salivate but wisely reframed from drooling like a baby. He had a reputation to uphold.

"We have to tell Dumbledore! Hagrid told that stranger how to get passed Fluffy and it was either You-Know-Who or Snape under that cloak. It must have been easy for them to get the information out of him when he was drunk." Hermione Granger exclaimed as they entered the entrance hall. Harry leered at her bushy hair in annoyance, wishing with all his might that'd turn into a large fireball. Too bad it didn't work. He wanted the bloody stone so why the hell should he tell Dumbledore?

"But where's Dumbledore's office?" Ronald Weasley asked stupidly, the usual confused facial expression he always wore was firmly planted on his face. Harry mentally groaned, wishing he had never threatened the Sorting Hat with a good roasting if it didn't put him in Gryffindor. The only reason he wanted in the house was because of the colors, red and gold, so much like his beloved fire. If he'd known he'd be surrounded by idiots and annoying know-it-all twits he would have gladly went to Slytherin.

"Look, how about we ju-" Harry began.

"Professor McGonagall!" The bushy haired girl yelled out, running towards the Transfiguration Professor who looked to be carrying a heavy load of books. Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously as he was interrupted, arm twitching, itching to pull out his wand and flame grill the little bitch.

"Miss Granger? What ever is the matter?" McGonagall asked in confusion at the panicked look on the young girls face. Ron also had a similar expression, finally losing that clueless idiot look while Harry looked on with a blank face, eyes boring into the professors, an eerie light glowing within. She shuddered involuntarily but none of them saw it except Harry who smirked sardonically.

"We need to see Professor Dumbledore." Harry deadpanned when Hermione gave him some look that was supposed to be intimidating, supposed to be being the keywords. I mean really, who would be intimidated by an overgrown bucktoothed beaver?

"See Professor Dumbledore?" She repeated, staring suspiciously at the three. She would never admit it but the Potter boy had freaked her out ever since she'd laid eyes upon him at the start of the school year. She wasn't exactly sure what it was exactly but for some reason he reminded her of an old school mate of hers from her days at Hogwarts named Tom Riddle. He was a boy who looked remarkably like Harry that had been two years her junior, a Slytherin who was known as a loner, having no real friends, only acquaintances. "Why?"

"It's... sort of a secret." Ron replied timidly. Harry nearly punched him in the face as McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," She said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" Harry asked happily. "Now?"

McGonagall stared at him in confusion as did the other two. Shaking her head, she replied. "Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time-"

"But this is important!" Hermione burst out. McGonagall found it strange that Potter didn't appear to be listening anymore, instead muttering about something called gasoline and matches.

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Granger?"

Harry shook his head, seeming to come out of whatever little world he'd been in. "Look," He snapped, getting thoroughly annoyed at the hold up. Throwing caution and better judgment into the wind he told her the truth. "It's about the Philosophers Stone."

Whatever the old biddy had expected, it wasn't that, as the books she was carrying tumbled to the floor. She didn't even attempt to pick them up and continued to stare at Harry in shock.

"How do you know-" She spluttered.

Harry tuned the rest out as Hermione and McGonagall talked, Ron standing off to the side looking stupid once more. He just wanted to steal the fucking stone, was that too much to ask? Apparently it was. This conversation was wearing thin real fast, making Harry's blood boil. He was just about to snap at them when McGonagall bent over and picked up her books before briskly walking passed without a glance. At least that was over...

"It's tonight," Harry said, bored with standing in the middle of the hall like an idiot and decided to humor them. "Snape, or whoever it is, will go through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we-" Hermione gasped in horror and Harry, along with Ron, turned to see Servus Snape in all his glory. If Harry were to look at the others he would have found their faces amusing.

"Good afternoon." He said smoothly. Hermione and Ron stared at him while Harry checked his nails, disinterested at what was happening. Snape growled softly in his throat but said nothing about Harry's lack of reaction.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this." He said, with an odd, twisted smile. Harry finally looked up from his nails, smirking lightly.

"Why is that?" He asked innocently, staring Snape in the eyes. For some reason his mind told him to not make eye contact so he instead moved his eyes to the man's greasy hair. His smirked widened, thinking about how flammable Snape's hair was with all that grease. He could see it now, Snape running through the corridors of Hogwarts, his head on fire.

Either Snape didn't hear him or chose not to comment. Harry bet on the latter. After the Professor finished his little speech that was aimed to... terrify them but only served to amuse Harry, the man stalked off towards the dungeons, robes billowing out behind him. Harry really wanted to learn how to do that but didn't think Professor Snape would appreciate him asking to teach him.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged and started walking back to Gryffindor tower.

"I don't know about you but I'm tired." He yawned to prove his point. "I'm going to bed."

"Bed?" Ron asked incredulously. "Harry it's four in the afternoon!"

"And your point is?" He asked lazily, running a hand through his long raven locks. They both stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Harry thought they'd be used to his indifference to things by now.

"What about the stone?" Hermione all but shouted. Harry frowned at her.

"Oh, very smart Hermione. Yell it out for the whole school to hear." He smirked as her face turned red. "The stone... well, we did our best. It's McGonagall's fault now if it's stolen."

"But Harry-"

"Like I said, I'm tired and going to bed." He snapped before setting off at a faster pace, leaving the two behind.


Harry smirked as he finally heard the last person fall asleep. It'd taken longer than he had hoped but everyone was finally in bed, out like lights. Grabbing his father's invisibility cloak, he silently crept across the dormitory, out the door and down the stairs, making a beeline for the portrait hole. He froze when he spotted a person emerge from the shadows.

"Where are you going?" The person said, appearing in front of him holding a toad. He smirked when he realized who it was.

"Hello Neville." He answered politely.

"Where are you going?" He repeated, trying to stop his pet toad, Trevor, from escaping his sweaty hands. The toad really didn't like his master for some reason.

Harry sighed. "Go back to sleep Neville."

"You're going out again." He accused. "You can't go out. You'll be caught again like last time and get Gryffindor in trouble!" Only if fire could solve all life's problems... well it can, but he didn't really feel like roasting the boy. He kind of liked him, the only person he did like apart from the Weasley Twins in the entire school, even if the boy was a coward... most of the time.

"What I'm doing Neville is a little more important than a stupid cup so if you'd gladly step aside so I can be on my way..." He trailed off, realizing the boy wasn't going to move anytime soon. "Look Neville, I like you, really I do, but if you don't get out of my way I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"I can't let you do this!" He exclaimed, dropping his toad and raising his fists. Harry thought he looked hilarious. "I'll... fight you!"

Harry sighed again. "Sorry Neville."

Raising his wand, he flicked it at the boy and intoned, "Petrificus Totalus."

Harry watched as Neville's arms and legs snapped together in an instant. His whole body went ridged and he swayed on the spot for a couple of seconds before falling back, hitting the ground with a soft thud, completely immobile. Standing above his head, Harry watched as the young boy stared at him in horror, his eyes being the only part of his body able to move.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Harry said, swishing his wand how they practiced and flicked. Slowly, the frozen form of Neville Longbottom floated into the air. Harry directed the boy's body above one of the couches and canceled the spell.

"There, the couch is much more comfortable than the floor. Bye Neville." Turning, he was about to head towards the portrait when out of no where Ron and Hermione appeared from the staircases.

"Harry!" Hermione stage whispered across the room. "What did you do to Nev-"

Whipping around, Harry fired two stunners at the both of them before they could react. He smirked as they both crumpled in a heap on the floor at the base of the stairs. "The stone is mine."

Quickly exiting the common room, he covered himself with the cloak and rushed to the third floor corridor as fast as he could. He wanted to beat Snape... or Voldemort... or whoever the fuck it was trying to steal the stone before him. It wouldn't do him any good to get there and not find anything.

Arriving, he quickly jogged to the door that led to Fluffy, stopping when he heard a harmonic melody coming from within. It was obvious that someone had beaten him to the metaphorical punch. He swore under his breath and pushed the door open a crack, revealing a large golden harp and a sleeping three-headed dog. Sneaking inside, he pulled out his wand with a flame spell on the tip of his tongue if need be. He wasn't going to die without at least burning the fucker.

Bending down, he slowly opened the trapdoor. Looking down, he could see nothing but darkness but that didn't worry him. Shrugging off his cloak, he paused when he noticed the music was no long playing. Lifting his head, he saw that Fluffy was slowly starting to wake up. Before the dog had a chance to fully wake, Harry launched himself through the hole, closing his eyes and hoping of the best. Luckily he landed on something soft and not the hard, cold, stone floor.

Unluckily, the soft thing was alive...

"What the fuck!" He yelped as a tentacle wrapped around his legs, pulling him deeper into the mess of green, pulsing vines. "Devils Snare, you have got to be kidding me." Struggling, he snarled his annoyance as more pulsing vines wrapped around his body and arms, trapping him completely. That's when he noticed that he'd lost his wand when he fell.

"You picked the wrong day to piss me off!" He spat, focusing his magic how he used to before coming to Hogwarts. Slowly, his hands started to glow before they erupted in flames, burning straight through the vines that were trying to squeeze him to death.

"DIE!" He roared as he climbed out of the plants reach and flung his arms in front of him, great streams of fire flying from his hands. He started cackling insanely as the plant screeched and swung its vines about, trying to escape the assault. "Mwuahahahahaha!"

Within seconds the feared plant known as Devils Snare was nothing more than a pile of ashes. Harry, no longer using his wandless magic was still laughing. It really was a disturbing sight, seeing such a small, pale, weak looking child cackle like a madman. The insane gleam in his large, bright emerald eyes was even more off putting. He looked more dangerous than most fully trained, grown wizards.

Getting himself under control, he straightened his robes and started off down the passage way to the right. Everything was silent; the only sounds that could be heard were his shoes clopping against the stone and the water dripping from the roof. As he moved further along however the silence was replaced by an odd rustling and clinking sound.

Reaching the end of the passage, Harry looked around the large brilliantly lit chamber he was now in, its ceiling arching high above him. Looking up, he spotted hundreds of little jewel-bright birds fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the other side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door that looked as if it had seen better days. Next to said door was a pile of broomsticks ready to be ridden.

Gliding across the room, robes fanning out behind him, he tried to force the door open but despite its shoddy appearance it was sturdy and sealed tightly shut. Looking at the birds once more he discovered they were actually keys with wings, obviously charmed. Harry was starting to see a pattern forming in the obstacles. The first was Hagrid's, the second Sprouts and this was the work of Flitwick, the Charms Master.

"Oh great... that means there are at least three more to go." Sighing, he mounted one of the brooms. For the next few minutes he zoomed around the room chasing after the keys and his patience was wearing thin. Focusing with all his might, he pointed his wand at the fat rusty key he was chasing. "Accio!" It wobbled in the air and slowed down enough for him to catch it. Apparently it was charmed against the summoning charm.

Landing, he quickly unlocked the door and shot through, slamming it shut as the other keys neared. The sounds of keys pounding against the door sounded for the next few seconds. Ignoring the noise, he continued on until he came upon a giant chess set. Broom still in hand, he mounted it and flew straight across, not even bothering with it. He wasn't that great at chess anyway.

Landing, he dropped the broom and advanced on the large double doors. Pushing them open, his nose was immediately bombarded with one of the foulest smells in existence, one he had smelt before but not to this degree.

"They have a bloody troll down here... for Merlin's sake." Glancing around, he did his best to creep across the room. He was about half way across when he heard the noise of something charging from behind. Diving to his left, he winced at the sound of the troll's giant club smashing against the floor, echoing throughout the chamber.

Jumping to his feet, he swung his wand in an arch in front of him. "Flagrate!"

The troll, twice the size of the one that attacked Hermione, roared in pain as a thin line of fire whipped into its chest, its thick skin being penetrated. In a fit of rage, it lifted its club and threw it at Harry like a spear. Stumbling out of the way just barely, he aimed his wand at the ugly, smelly trolls face. "Incendio!"

Harry's arm threatened to give way as his wand bucked violently, releasing are large stream of fire that impacted against the trolls face. As a heavy as it was, the troll was lifted off its feet and thrown back into the chamber wall, its face charred black. It slumped to the floor, blood oozing out the back of its head like a river of purple goo, unmoving.

Panting, Harry glared at the unconscious beast. "Avada Kedavra!"

Satisfied with his work, he turned and marched towards the next room. He was tiring of these games fast. The next room was small with a table placed in the middle; several vials perched upon its surface. As soon as he took a few steps into the room both doors were immediately covered in flames, purple flames behind and black flames ahead. Aiming his wand at the door across from him with the black flames, he fired a jet of water at it. Nothing happened.

Wandering over to the table, he picked up a sheet of parchment with instructions on it. Grunting in frustration, he burnt the parchment with his hands and marched over to the black flame door. Concentrating, he called his wandless magic forth and placed his now flaming hands in the black fire. Slowly, the black flames seemed to be sucked straight into his very hands leaving nothing but a door.

"Did they really think fire would keep me out?" He chuckled and continued through the door. He followed the long set of stairs downward for over five minutes before finally reaching the final chamber. Someone was already there, standing in front of a large mirror, one he had seen before. Thing was, it wasn't Snape or Voldemort... it was Quirrell.

Harry sneered at the man from behind and aimed his wand. "Avada Kedavra."

Quirrell spun around in shock, eyes widening as he saw the green curse closing in on his position. He was able to move in time, the curse missing him by mere millimeters, but the mirror wasn't so lucky. The green curse smashed into the magical mirror and exploded with great force, glass and parts of its frame firing in different directions, several imbedding themselves in the professor's body.

The man howled in pain as Harry, who was exhausted from using two unforgiveables in such a short span of time, slumped to his knees. Harry saw some type of vortex open where the mirror was, sucking everything back in before it exploded again with magical energy. Quirrell was thrown across the room like a rag doll, hitting the stone wall with a loud crack, his head spitting open like a coconut. A black mist sprung from his body and shot off into one of the walls like a ghost, vanishing from sight.

Dazed, he stared at his former defense professor's open skull, his brain visible for all to see.

"Don't tell me the stone was in the mirror..."

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