Chapter Text
It was the end of his first year. It had been both wonderful and horrible, and Harry had just gotten out of the hospital after one of the truly horrible parts. He was dreading going back to the Dursleys, but Professor Dumbledore had told him he has to. Just like that. Not even an apology or offer to make things better. "You'll be safe there. Things will be okay - just trust me..." -Ha!- Harry had heard that lie enough to recognize it by now.
Feeling somewhat sorry for himself, and worried, and antisocial, Harry draped his invisibility cloak around himself and wandered the castle aimlessly, vaguely aware that he was likely to get lost but not really caring - being lost in the castle would be so much better than found in Privet Drive. He should probably be getting packed and ready for the Leaving Feast, but... he really didn't want to be around people (especially excited, happy people) right now.
He was vaguely aware of climbing stairs, of passing paintings and suits of armor (glad they couldn't see him to talk to him or watch where he went. He didn't like being watched all the time by everyone... and everything.) He finally found an empty hallway far from the babble and bustle, with no portraits to watch, no armor or carvings, no alcoves for someone to hide in. Just an old tapestry and a dusty window at the far end. He pushed back the hood and meandered toward the window, wishing he had another option - any other option - when part of his brain caught on the subject of the tapestry, and he backtracked to take a better look.
Why was someone teaching trolls ballet? (His previous experience with trolls definitely didn’t imply any sort of gracefulness, much less tameness to learn.) It was as futile an endeavor as hoping the Dursleys wouldn’t be their usual awful selves.
(He really wished he had somewhere else to go.)
In a fit of whimsy, Harry copied the pose of one of the trolls and tried tiptoeing daintily down the hall with his arms curved above his head.
(Seriously, a safe place away from the Dursleys would be perfect.)
Harry tripped on the edge of the cloak and almost fell. Maybe a different pose would be easier? He walked back to study the tapestry again and copied a different troll, then tried pirouetting his way back down the hall. His cloak flared and billowed in a pleasing wave around him.
(A safe place away from the Dursleys where he could also practice magic would be even better.)
The spinning made him dizzy and Harry braced himself against the door to catch his balance.
(Wait, door? There wasn’t a door here.)
Harry opened the door, cautiously - never know if there’s a cerberus waiting, after all. A blast of freezing cold air hit him and he found himself facing an amazing mountain vista, nothing at all like the craggy green hills that surrounded Hogwarts. Almost without thinking, he stepped through, absently closing the door behind him.
“Welcome.”
He spun around, groping for his wand. The walls and door he expected to see behind him were now an impressive structure that looked like something out of his world history books.
(He thought it was China? Maybe?)
“Where? Sir? How did I get here? Where is here?”
“This is Kamar Taj. Those who seek eventually find their way here. What were you seeking?”
“...A safe place away from the Dursleys where I can practice magic.”
“Then welcome to Kamar Taj. I will escort you to the Sorcerer Supreme.”