Chapter 3: Second Year

Chapter 2: Second Year

A/N

Here is the second year of this story. For those that may have missed it, third year has been added to th page today.

Of course, followers, favourites and reviews are most welcome.

TBR

It was mid-way through the summer break that Harry found himself unpacking his trunk in a hotel room, all thanks to a deranged house-elf arriving at the Dursley's the night before. He had never seen one of the creatures, and if they were all like this one, he had no wish to see another. Dobby, as it had introduced itself, had intruded upon him unannounced with some rather ominous and nonsensical claims. Having said his piece, he vanished, leaving Harry as equally confused as he was concerned.

" The elf took a great risk by coming to you, unless he was instructed to do so by his master," Tom mused aloud. "I would heed his words, Harry, especially with what happened before summer."

Harry agreed and decided that the Dursley's was clearly not as safe as Dumbledore believed. If an elf could breach the protections, all it would take would be one to be instructed to kill him to render them useless. As such, he had vacated the home and decided to spend the rest of the summer in Knockturn Alley. He had his cloak to hide when needed and had even used a false name. In his position, there was little else he could do lest he were to lock himself in his vault at Gringotts for the remainder of the summer.

"I suppose it saves us having to get trains every day."

" Everything we could ever need is right here," Tom added supportively, clearly pleased that Harry had left the home of his relatives.

"So, what now?"

" We continue with our preparations," Tom answered. "Tonight, you will use that cloak of yours to sneak into a bar named 'The Hairless Hag'. There you will witness your first ever magical duel."

Harry nodded excitedly. Tom was adamant that he began working on being able to defend himself. Watching duels would be an excellent way to get a feel for it.

(BREAK)

He could only look on in awe, enraptured by the spectacle of the battling wizards in front of him. It had not been easy finding his way in here. He'd had to navigate past two teams of security wizards and down a narrow set of stairs without bumping into anyone to reach the basement, but it had been worth it.

Thus far, he had witnessed several duels between men, women and even a fight between vampires. His eyes widened as a wizard closed the gap between himself and his opponent and rammed his head into his nose before hitting him with a rather unpleasant spell that cut deeply into the flesh of the arm. Had the other not rolled his shoulder in time to block it, it would have likely cleaved a chunk from his face.

"That's cheating," Harry whispered furiously.

" That is fighting," Tom countered. "Duelling regulations mean nothing here, nor in a fight for your life. Remember that, Harry. You must do whatever it takes to survive."

Harry nodded his understanding as he continued to watch the brutality unfold before his young eyes. Voldemort wasn't going to play by rules when he came so Harry couldn't either. Since his first encounter with the man, he had put his focus of replenishing his family wealth to one side, replacing it with ensuring the Dark Lord was dead first as a priority. He was a long way off such a feat, but he would get there.

"I need to be as good as them, Tom," he muttered.

" No, you need to be better, Harry, much better," the voice replied, "And you will be my boy."

(BREAK)

"Is this really necessary?" Harry asked as he continued etching the same symbol into a piece of parchment repeatedly.

At the beginning of summer, Tom had begun tutoring him in Ancient Runes, a subject he would not be able to study for another year at Hogwarts. He had explained that learning it was of paramount importance if he wished to defeat Voldemort one day. Harry did not understand how learning something so trivial could be vital, but he didn't ask any further and Tom refused to explain why considerable emphasis was being placed on it.

" I truly wish it wasn't, but this will give us a significant advantage over other wizards."

"But not Voldemort?"

" It will go far in evening out your disadvantages."

It appeared that the vagueness would continue when it came to the reason behind learning runes, though, he truly was enjoying it. It was certainly a fascinating subject and could prove to be useful for many careers when he finished his schooling, his thoughts of his future options, as always, playing on his mind.

" That will do for today. You can pick it up again tomorrow," Tom instructed, eliciting a sigh of relief from the boy. "Go and fetch the book you bought from Borgin yesterday."

Harry did as he was bid and returned to the worn table with the book in hand. It was old, the leather having been worn and cracked in places from use and the pages yellowed considerably.

He had thumbed through it at his leisure the night before, both horrified and curious as to what he had read. It was not a book he would have chosen for himself, but one that Tom had insisted he source.

Delving into the studies had not been his idea, but he had been quickly convinced by his mentor that it was needed. Already at the age of eleven, and even before at one, someone had tried to take his life and he needed to be able to prevent that. He had been lucky, thus far, and luck was not something he was willing to put his life on.

Flashback

" We must discuss how we move forward, Harry," Tom sighed uneasily.

"What can I do?"

" You need to be able to defend yourself against the darkest of practices. Voldemort is an expert in dark and obscure magic, spells that most have never even heard of let alone witnessed."

"Isn't that what Defence Against the Dark Arts is for?"

Tom snorted.

" You will not learn to defend yourself sufficiently from what is coming, not at Hogwarts."

"So, what can I do? You're not exactly filling me with confidence here."

There was a pause before Tom spoke again, his words having been chosen carefully.

" To fight what is coming, you too must become an expert on it. You must become as knowledgeable and as dangerous as him if you wish to stand a chance."

Harry frowned in thought.

" Do you mean fight fire with fire."

" In a way, yes. I am not encouraging you to use such magic, but you must understand it, must know what it is capable of. It is your choice whether you choose to use what you learn. But it must be done."

" But, it's dark," Harry pointed out unnecessarily.

" That is what you are taught," Tom conceded. "When you grow older you come to realise that magic isn't inherently light or dark as the ministry would have you believe. Magic is all about intent and how you use it."

Harry nodded thoughtfully at the words, confused but trying to understand.

" Are you likely to cast any of these types of spells on a person that was no threat to you?"

" No!" Harry denied firmly.

" What if I told you that you could harm someone with a water summoning charm even more than with a cutting curse to the neck?"

" How?"

" Well, I could use a simple Body Bind to prevent them from moving and aim a water charm at their face," Tom explained. "What do you think that would do?"

" They'd drown," Harry replied.

" Indeed. I could also control how long they are subject to that treatment. Something like that could be made to last for days."

Harry nodded again, this time more confidently.

" Being hit with a cutting curse will not necessarily kill you, but it will hurt and a hit to the neck would be rather quick. How would you rather be killed, Harry?"

" With the cutting curse to the neck," he replied.

" Do you see my point?"

" I do," Harry sighed.

" I truly wished to wait before beginning these teachings, Harry, but time is against us. I want to give you the best chance at survival so we will have to perhaps do some things you don't like."

" I know," Harry replied. "What you're saying makes sense. I need to know what I will face. He will kill me if I am not ready."

" He will," Tom agreed. "Learn what I can teach you and it will give you your best chance."

" I will," Harry vowed.

End Flashback

It had been a rather sobering conversation for the boy. He didn't want to hurt people, other than Voldemort or anyone else that came after him. As always, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. If people couldn't respect that, he would have to make them. It had taken a while to get over cutting off Quirrell's arm, the man's screams having haunted his dreams for days after, but again, Tom had made him see sense and explained his magic had acted in his best interests.

Although Dumbledore had seen it differently, the man had sent him an even older book than the one he was currently reading. It was more a handwritten notebook of non-fatal spells that Harry was finding very useful, even if he hadn't managed to cast any of them yet. The man had warned him they were rather advanced for his age, and he had proven to be right so far.

He shook his head of those thoughts.

He was still learning and practicing useful spells and would continue to do so. Other than that, it seemed that he was doomed to learn about dark magic also and runes. He couldn't forget about the runes.

(BREAK)

Harry chided himself as he pushed his way through the crowds in Diagon Alley. He had completed his shopping for the upcoming school year but had seemingly done better with his runic studies than he had anticipated. He had been instructed by Tom to get the next few books in the series before he had to leave for the castle tomorrow. Unbeknownst to him until he had arrived here, he had chosen the busiest day possible to do so.

His irritation only grew as he reached Flourish and Blott's and spotted the queue snaking its way up half the length of the street, mostly made up of middle-aged witches.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked himself aloud.

"Bloody Lockhart, that's what," a bespectacled man next to him grumbled. "Two hours I've been waiting for my wife."

The name made Harry cringe internally. Upon receiving his reading list for the year, most of it was comprised of books written by the man. Harry had read a few pages of one and immediately refused to purchase them. They had proven to be nothing more than exaggerated tales designed to stroke Lockhart's ego. If even half of what had been written was true, he would eat Hedwig.

He had no idea what their new professor was thinking by including them, but he hoped that it would be only to ridicule the man. Unfortunately for him, that was not the case at all.

Having no interest in meeting the idiot, he'd been allowed to enter the store ahead of those waiting, much to his relief and purchase the books he required. It was when he was leaving that he caught sight of him, garnering the attention of the room by standing and clearing his throat.

"I was going to keep this secret a little longer but now appears to be as good a time as any," he began with an irritating grin plastered across his face. "From tomorrow, I will be taking a hiatus away from battling werewolves, vampires and the ilk and dedicating myself to teaching our next generation. That's right folks. I have been highly requested by Albus Dumbledore to pass on my expertise as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."

A resounding cheer sounded at the announcement and Harry's groan was lost amongst the cacophony. Worse yet, the man spotted him within the crowd, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

Not wanting to be a party to the man's public plea for attention, he ducked through a gap in the crowd and headed towards the front door only to be hindered by a brawl that had broken out between a redheaded man and a blonde.

"Get him, dad," a familiar voice encouraged.

Harry turned to see the Weasley twins along with their other siblings cheering the man on whilst a woman that could only be his wife did her best to separate the two along with a member of staff bemoaning the damage they had done to his displays.

Eventually, the altercation came to an end and the blonde stood, a trickle of blood running over his lips and down his chin.

From where he stood, he could not hear the words spoken between them, but the blonde returned a book that to the youngest redhead before taking his leave a moment later with another familiar blonde in tow.

"A Malfoy," Harry muttered.

" Lucius Malfoy," Tom informed him. "The Weasleys and Malfoys have been at odds for years."

Harry shrugged as he managed to squeeze his way out of the shop. Whatever was going on between the two families was none of his concern. He had his own problems to deal with. Voldemort was one thing, but he had to contend yet again with an incompetent teacher in one of his most important subjects.

" It will be another year of self-study, Harry. Fear not, you will learn much more this way than from a buffoon."

Harry wholeheartedly agreed. He was making excellent progress under Tom's tutelage and would benefit much more from that than a man like Gilderoy Lockhart. Perhaps his placement would prove to be a blessing in disguise. Now, he only had to find a way to avoid him for a year.

(BREAK)

He rubbed his head as he glared at the wall that was supposed to allow him entry to platform 9 ¾. Something was blocking him from doing so, and as a result, he had run headlong into the brickwork, attracting a considerable amount of attention from other passers-by.

" It seems your little elf friend is rather insistent on you not returning?" Tom chuckled.

"He can do that?"

" Elves, along with other creatures have abilities that we as wizards do not. Never underestimate them, Harry."

"Great," the boy mumbled irritably. "What do I do now?"

" Leave the station. There is a bus you can summon that will take you to Hogsmeade. It gives you the opportunity to have a look around before you can go next year."

Harry exited Kings' Cross and headed towards the nearest main road a short walk away.

" Simply hold out your wand in front of you. It will find you."

Harry did so and was almost sent sprawling when an enormous bang sounded and a purple, triple-decker bus appeared in front of him, its door clattering open as it came to a halt.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus," a bored voice greeted him. "I am your conductor Stan, where may we take you today?"

"Hogsmeade, please," Harry answered entering the vehicle.

"That'll be five sickles."

He handed over the money and took a seat just in time to be flung back into it as another bang sounded, his stomach turning uncomfortably. It was nothing like riding a broom nor the carts at the bank. There was nothing fun nor exhilarating about this at all.

"Shut up," he muttered as Tom laughed at his expense.

Fortunately, he only had to endure the experience of the bus vanishing once more before it skidded to a stop.

"Hogsmeade, please mind your step when leaving the vehicle," the conductor advised.

"Should have bloody advised caution when getting on the bus," Harry huffed when it had vanished for what he hoped was the last time in his life. "Merlin, I feel sick."

" I will teach you to apparate during your fourth year," Tom promised, "your magic will have stabled enough by then."

Harry nodded gratefully. So long as he didn't have to take the bus in the interim, he could live with that.

"Well, I've got seven hours to kill. What is there to do here?"

Overall, the village was rather anti-climactic. He'd enjoyed Honeyduke's and even Zonko's, some of the items having reminded him of how he brought the Dursleys to heal all those years ago. Other than that, there was little that would entice him there. He had a meal in The Three Broomsticks and had to endure the other patrons gawping at him like a sideshow of some kind. The other pub available did not even bear thinking about. The Hog's Head had been filthy, the barman obnoxiously rude and the patrons as unpleasant looking as those he had seen in 'The Hairless Hag' . He personally much preferred Knockturn Alley. There were much more places of interest there.

"I suppose there is a certain charm about it," he conceded, taking in the architecture of the place.

" It took some time to grow on me also," Tom revealed. "You'll find the mountains quite beautiful and secluded."

"I'll remember that for when I come back."

He arrived at the station shortly before the train and followed the students not entering their school for their first year towards a line of carriages that were seemingly being pulled by nothing.

"Over here, Harry," a voice called to him a short distance away as a tall redhead waved at him.

"This can't be good," he muttered as he headed in the direction of the older boy.

"We can't have you with the other riff-raff," one of the twins declared, hoisting him into one with a group of other students dressed in robes of black with red trimmings.

"A disgrace it would be, just like you being an eagle. No idea what the hat was thinking there," the other added as he was wedged between the two.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Being away from you two as much as possible can't be a bad thing. From what I saw in the alley, mischief runs in your family."

"Ahh, good times," one sighed. "Watching Malfoy getting thumped was the highlight of the summer."

"You were there? And you didn't even come and say hello to your two favourite Weasleys? What a disgrace," the other added, the duo beginning to induce a headache worthy of Quirrell.

"You talk too much," Harry grumbled. "I should have known better than to get in here."

"Shh, you wouldn't want to offend our beautiful teammates and Oliver, would you?"

"I have no idea who your beautiful teammates are," Harry shrugged, "No offense," he added to the three females in the carriage.

"Then allow me to introduce them," the twin to his left requested. "This young lady is Katie Bell, an excellent chaser and quite the attractive lady, is she not?"

The girl frowned at his antics but gave Harry a friendly wave which he returned.

"Next is the amazing Alicia Spinnet, a demon on a broom and with a wand in her hand. You do not want to be hit by a Stinging Hex from this one."

The girl shook her head at the redhead before giving Harry a nod.

"And finally, we have the wonder that is Angelina Johnson. Angelina enjoys throwing quaffles through hoops and telling us off in her spare time."

She seemingly ignored the commentary given about her and waved at the younger boy.

"Oh, and that is Oliver Wood. He is obsessed with Quidditch."

The thickly built boy could only shrug in response, finding nothing disagreeable about what had been said about him.

"This," the other twin broke in, "is Harry Potter. Harry is the only boy to pull off a prank against us in almost four years."

"A prank that saved you a week of detention," he reminded the boy.

"And that is why you do not have us as an enemy. Any time away from Filch is a good time. Besides, McGonagall loves you. If we pranked you, she would hit the bloody roof," the twin grumbled.

"You could always prank Lockhart," Harry suggested.

"No. If we did that, our mother would throw us off the roof. She's obsessed with the man," the boy returned with a firm shake of his head.

"You could always do it," the other interjected.

Harry snorted.

"I might well do," he mused aloud. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you all," he said before jumping out of the carriage as it came to a stop.

He didn't dislike the Weasleys at all, they we just rather overwhelming to be around. They seemed nice enough, but he could imagine that façade would crack if they were to target you.

Harry didn't have time for things like that. Not with Voldemort coming for him and he certainly didn't have time to entertain idiots like Lockhart. He could only imagine what lessons with him would be like.

" You should attend one of the classes at the very least," Tom advised.

(BREAK)

Against his better judgement, Harry took the suggestion on board and found himself in a lesson with the man the very next morning, despairing at the quiz that had been placed in front of him. As expected, the new professor was only here to stroke his own ego, each question on the parchment pertaining to him and nothing of the subject they should be studying.

With a shake of his head, he put his quill down when requested, the nib still as dry and unused as when he had taken if from his bag.

"Excellent," Lockhart praised, his teeth gleaming as he gave the class his best award-winning smile. "Now, who can tell me what my favourite colour is? Miss Li?"

"Lilac, professor," the girl answered with a blush.

"I see you have been paying attention to my latest book, Magical Me, " the man observed. "Take a point for Ravenclaw."

"Idiot me, more like," Harry muttered.

"Sorry, did you say something, Harry?"

"Nothing at all, professor. I was just offering you a compliment for giving us such useful knowledge."

The man continued to grin stupidly as Harry planned just how he would spend his time during these lessons. Undoubtedly, he would be on the seventh-floor learning something worthwhile. The man was a fraud at best and Harry had no time for him. He did however wonder how long he could get away with not attending his lessons before it was noticed.

(BREAK)

Much to his surprise, he managed to avoid going to defence until the afternoon of Halloween when he was accosted by Professor Flitwick shortly after leaving the hidden room. He was making his way back to the Ravenclaw Tower when the diminutive man caught up with him as he was passing his office.

"A word if I may, Mr. Potter," he requested, beckoning the boy into the office.

Harry immediately knew what the impromptu meeting would be about. For the past weeks he had dogged the defence professor rather effectively with excuses and the occasional tripping jinx to make his escape. His efforts now seemed to be for naught as his head of house stared at him from across the other side of the desk.

"It has been brought to my attention, Harry, that you have not been attending your Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. Could you please explain to me why that is?"

"Because Lockhart is useless," Harry answered honestly. "My time is better spent actually learning the subject than watching him posture around a room talking about how great he is. Did you know that he set a group of pixies loose in a lesson and one stole his wand? He ran away and left Hermione Granger to clean up his mess. This coming from a man who supposedly fought off three vampires with his bare hands."

The professor chuckled as he shook his head.

"I myself find his tales rather fanciful."

"Outright lies, more like," Harry countered. "The man wouldn't know his arse from the right end of his wand."

"Language, Harry," the man chided before letting out a sigh.

"How is your time spent when you are supposed to be in with Professor Lockhart?"

"I do lots of things," Harry shrugged. "I've worked my way through the entirety of the second- and third-year syllabus for defence."

"I suspected as much," Flitwick sighed. "You are progressing at an exceptional rate in your wand subjects. You continue to astound me in charms. You demonstrate perhaps even more brilliance than your mother in the subject."

"You would have taught her, right, professor?"

The little man nodded sadly.

"She was an exceptional student, Harry. I feel that I would be doing not only you, but her a disservice if I didn't push you the way I do. Not only was she an exceptional student, but she became a dear friend once she graduated."

A silence fell amongst the pair as the professor lamented the loss of the woman.

"Anyway, so long as you are applying yourself, I don't see any reason to force you to attend the lessons. However, I will be expecting excellent grades from you come the end of the year. I will simply tell Professor Lockhart that you are working on a project for me and that I am tutoring you for some of your second-year material."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said gratefully.

"Do come to me, Harry, if you have any issues, if you need more challenging work or I can assist you in any way, my door is open."

Harry nodded as he stood.

"I will, professor. Thank you again."

"You're welcome," Flitwick offered as Harry left the room to shower.

He had only just begun a physical exercise regime and he was tired. Tom had explained that taking care of his body physically would help with his magic and work on the min arts. He also hinted he would need to be in good physical condition for something else further up the line, but he did not specify any further. As such, he had been dedicating more time to improving his body. From what he had seen, magical folk were rather lazy for the most part and being fit would certainly benefit him when the eventual fighting would begin.

He shook his head as he pulled some fresh clothes from his trunk and headed towards the bathroom. The cascade of hot water running down his back was a welcome feeling, washing away the sweat and soothing the aches and pains he had accumulated from the hard work he was putting in. Reluctantly, he turned it off after several minutes and dried himself before getting dressed.

When he arrived in the common room, he found that is what empty, his housemates having left to go to the planned feast for the evening. Having no appetite, he decided he would go and see Hedwig. He had only learnt that his parents had been murdered on this date the previous year and discussing his mother with Flitwick had put him in a rather sombre and reflective mood.

His life hadn't been great, far from it in truth. He'd endured outright abuse courtesy of the Dursleys and had spent his years isolated. He had Tom, of course, but when it came down to it, Harry was alone in the world, other than his feathered companion. He had mixed feelings about this. Once upon a time, he had craved friendship, had sought out such when he had started muggle school. His efforts, however, had been in vain. Dudley had seen to that. Very early on in life, he had accepted loneliness. The thought that it could change when he started Hogwarts had crossed his mind, but he found that he had nothing in common with anyone here. Most looked to him as a very strange enigma, either worshipping him or avoiding him. There was none he would consider friend nor none he wished to drag into the mess that was his life. A Dark Lord thought dead was still quite alive and out for his blood, and it was Harry that would have to deal with that in the end.

After giving the owl a final treat, he helped her back on to her perch before heading inside and out of the October chill. Winter was fast approaching the castle now.

As he entered the warmth of the corridor, he was caught short by the sound of a voice coming seemingly from nowhere. Instantly, his wand was in his hand as a trickle of fear made its way down his spine. His first thought was that Voldemort had returned, the way the voice reverberated around the walls very reminiscent of how his had sounded in the room with the mirror.

" Rip… Tear… KILL!"

"Who's there?" he called, ready to cast a spell in a heartbeat.

" Harry, what did you hear?" Tom asked frantically.

"A voice," Harry whispered as he proceeded down the corridor slowly, his eyes darting back and forth.

He had only made it to the next corridor when he heard screaming coming from ahead. His sedate pace was abandoned as he sprinted forward and came upon a large gathering of students, most of whom were Gryffindors staring at a rather morbid scene.

It took Harry a moment to recognise the caretaker's cat that hung limply from one of the sconces in the wall, a message seemingly written in blood just above it.

"The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir…beware," an older student read aloud.

" Harry, we must get away from here," Tom pleaded.

Harry's response was cut off by the arrival of Filch, wailing as he caught sight of his beloved pet.

"WHO DID THIS? WHO KILLED MRS. NORRIS?" he screamed, his eyes scanning the crowd accusingly.

"Argus," Dumbledore called loudly, himself and most of the staff having come upon the scene but a moment later. "I do not believe she is dead, merely petrified. Prefects. Escort the rest of the students back to their houses. The professors and I will get to the bottom of this," said reassuringly.

Harry left the scene and headed back to the tower, his mind abuzz with what had just happened. He didn't know what the chamber of secrets was, nor who this heir the messaged referred to could possibly be.

"What do you know about it, Tom?" he asked when they were safely in his room. "You were very adamant I leave so I know you know something."

He heard Tom sigh in his head.

" The chamber of secrets is a Hogwarts legend. It is said that when Salazar Slytherin fell out with the three other founders, he created a chamber somewhere in the school. IT is said the chamber houses the monster of Slytherin and that his heir would set the monster loose to rid the school of those unworthy to study magic," Tom explained.

"Those unworthy?"

" Those from non-magical families."

Harry nodded his understanding. He didn't socialise much, but he had heard enough to gather that those within Slytherin House were rather intolerant towards muggleborns and half-bloods. He hadn't been on the receiving end of it, but it was rather prominent.

"What else aren't you telling me, Tom?" Harry pressed. "You reacted very badly to what happened."

He was met with silence for some time until Tom spoke again.

" Nothing I am certain of, Harry. I need to ponder it and decide our next course of action. With any luck, Dumbledore will get to the bottom of this before anything else occurs."

Harry nodded sceptically, not quite believing that Tom didn't know more than he was letting on. He would, however, take his advice. Hopefully, he was right, and Dumbledore would be able to handle the situation before it escalated.

(BREAK)

His hope had been diminished only two short weeks later when a student had been petrified. The first-year Gryffindor boy had been found on the third-floor corridor with a camera in hand, unmoving and as unresponsive as Filch's cat. Tom had remained rather silent on the matter, though Harry could tell it had disturbed him greatly. He insisted that he was still thinking about it and advised further caution. Harry no longer left the tower without his cloak and ensured that he was covered by it when he left for and returned from the room on the seventh floor. Other than that, it was business as usual for the boy.

As promised, Tom had been pushing him harder during with his spell work, insisting that he became faster and more accurate with his casting. He had come on in leaps and bounds, and as a result, had been instructed to attend the new duelling club that had been announced just several days back.

Harry didn't really have much interest in going, not after witnessing the level of duelling in Knockturn Alley, but Tom had convinced him it would be a good place to begin testing himself against others instead of just training dummies.

Harry couldn't find a reasonable argument to avoid it, and so, he found himself amongst a crowd of eager students in the Great Hall. Each of the house tables had been pushed aside and a lengthy platform erected in their place. Again, he couldn't help but think this would be pointless. It wasn't as though Slytherin's monster was giving students the chance to draw their wand as it was and seemingly didn't need one to render people unconscious.

He let out an audible growl as Lockhart stepped on to the platform, already preparing himself for a disappointing experience. The man likely had as much a clue about duelling as Harry did about knitting.

"Thank you, thank you," the man directed to those that had applauded him, milking it for all he could before they fell expectantly silent. "In these trying times that we face, Professor Dumbledore has seen fit to request that I run this little club to prepare you for the dangers out there."

A few whispers broke out amongst the students, some of whom were thinking similarly to Harry. This man could teach them no such skill.

"Professor Snape," Lockhart continued, gesturing to the dour man, "has kindly agreed to be my assistant, so, to begin, we will have a friendly duel so that you can witness the majesty of two accomplished wizards locked in combat. Fear not, you will still have your potions master when I am through with him," he finished with a wink towards a group of third-year girls.

The announcement that the idiot would voluntarily face off with Snape had changed Harry's mind in an instant about being here. He wouldn't miss this altercation for the world.

The two men readied themselves, Snape as severe as always and Lockhart appearing as though he was going to dance the tango alone.

"On the count of three," the latter called aloud. "One, two…Three"

" Expelliarmus," Snape began, his wand movements overexaggerated and slow.

Harry snickered as the spell collided with Lockhart, sending him sprawling across the stage. The man truly was pathetic. Anyone with even an ounce of experience could have blocked that effort.

It took him a few moments to pull himself to his feet and compose himself before smiling once more.

"An excellent idea to demonstrate that particular spell, Professor Snape, though, I could have stopped it if I wanted. You did make it, rather obvious."

Snape scowled at the man.

"Then perhaps we should allow the students to practice it?"

"Of course. Why don't you all pair up and give it a go. The incantation is Expelliarmus, and the wand motion a jab, like so."

He dropped his wand as he attempted to demonstrate the correct motion, most of the students missing this as they had wandered off to find a partner.

"Still think its worth it?" Harry grumbled, ignoring the mocking laughter of Tom as he too tried to find someone to work with. Before he could find someone, he was intercepted by Professor Snape.

"Potter, you will work with Flint," he instructed, indicating to an older boy who looked as though he was distantly related to a troll.

Harry shrugged as he squared off against the boy who gave a grin that did nothing to improve his already unflattering looks.

"Disarm only," Lockhart called before giving a countdown.

Flint could neither count nor care to wait any longer as he fired a disarming charm at Harry when Lockhart reached two.

He managed to sidestep the spell in the nick of time and returned his own, striking the centre of the boys' chest and sending him spinning across the ground, his wand ripped from his hand.

Flint growled as he stood and retrieved it, glaring at Harry in fury. Instead of sending the expected rebuttal, he sent a swarm of bees in Harry's direction.

"I said disarm only," Lockhart reminded them.

As the bees neared, Harry incinerated them with a small burst of fire as he returned the hateful stare. His blood was pumping, and with a flick of his wand, Flint was relieved of his belt. As it was pulled away, he spun from the force, tripping over his trousers as they fell to his ankles. Not satisfied that was enough, Harry gave another flick and the shirt and jumper of the boy was pulled over his head and he attempted to wrestle himself out of them with little success.

The rest of the students looked on, some in awe and others amused as Harry transfigured the belt into a large boot and sent it towards Flint's backside, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the larger boy as he scrambled to his feet.

"That is enough, Potter," Snape growled.

Harry nodded as he lowered his wand in compliance.

Flint, however, was not done as he pointed his own at Harry once more.

" Serpensortia," he screamed.

" That is a very poisonous snake, Harry," Tom warned as a large cobra exploded from the end of the wand, spitting and hissing furiously.

" No," Harry unwittingly hissed as it reared back to attack.

Much to his surprise, the snake froze as did the rest of those within the hall, some looking at him fearfully, and in the case of Professor Snape, in shock. The man shook himself as he stepped forward and vanished the snake with a wave of his wand.

"Everybody, back to your common rooms. Potter, with me," he commanded, none daring to challenge his authority as the room emptied in silence. "Follow me."

With a frown of confusion, Harry did so and the two made their way up three flights of stairs before coming to a halt next to a statue of a gargoyle.

"Wait here," Snape insisted as the statue spring to life and allowed him access to a hidden room beyond.

He returned several moments later and beckoned for Harry to join him. Harry soon found himself following the potions professor into a wide, circular office in which a concerned looking Dumbledore was sat behind a desk, stroking the feathers of a rather brightly coloured bird.

"Please, take a seat, Harry," the older man offered not unkindly. "Could I interest you in a lemon drop?"

Harry accepted the sweet with a shrug. It wasn't often he had them, especially not living with the Dursleys.

"Could you please explain what happened in the Great Hall?" Dumbledore requested.

"Flint attacked me, so I defended myself," Harry replied easily enough. It wasn't as though he lied.

"I understand that. Professor Snape was rather impressed with how well you handled yourself against a much older and quite capable student. I apologise, I was referring to the incident with the snake."

"He conjured the snake, professor," Harry clarified irritably.

"The headmaster wants to know how you can speak to them, Potter," Snape interjected.

"Speak to them?" Harry asked.

"The damned snake. How long have you known you can speak to them?"

"I've never spoken to a bloody snake in my life," Harry answered irritably.

"Most of the school just heard you, Potter," Snape sighed. "The snake was going to attack you, you spoke to it and it stopped."

"I only said the word no," Harry explained, his confusion growing.

"That is not what I heard, nor anyone else in the room for that matter."

"I'm confused. I have no idea what you are talking about."

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence the potions master and cleared his throat.

"I do not believe that you are trying to hide anything, Harry, but Professor Snape is certain that you conversed with the snake."

"What if I did. What the hell is wrong with that? It stopped it from attacking me," he pointed out.

Dumbledore sighed as he nodded his understanding.

"The ability to speak with snakes is an exceedingly rare one, Harry and it does not have the most pleasant of histories. Tell me, have you heard of anyone being able to do it?"

"Only Salazar Slytherin," Harry answered, his eyes widening in realisation. "Everyone will think I'm the one attacking people, won't they?"

"Very likely," Dumbledore confirmed "Perhaps it would be considerably less of an issue if we weren't so recently plagued by another with the very same ability."

" Voldemort," Tom clarified sadly. "He was very well-known for being a parselmouth."

"It isn't me, professor," Harry defended. "I would never…"

"Calm yourself, Harry. I do not believe that you are responsible for this. Clearly, you did not know you had this ability until tonight."

Snape did not appear to be convinced but he certainly looked concerned.

"Well, how do I have this ability? Am I related to Slytherin?"

"No," Dumbledore replied firmly. "The Potters are distant relatives to the Gryffindor line but certainly not Slytherin."

"So, Voldemort is related to him?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Indeed, the last living relative of one of the founding four."

"That means that it can only be him behind this."

"My thoughts exactly, though I don't know how. Voldemort is a very resilient and resourceful wizard, Harry. Never forget that."

Harry nodded.

"What happens now? All of them will think that I am the heir of Slytherin," he reminded the man.

"I will have a word with my house, explain that it is an ability that has manifested itself and only a side-effect of the curse you received as a child. The purebloods will know you are not related to Slytherin," Snape offered.

"Please do, Severus and instruct Minerva, Pomona and Filius to do the same."

Snape nodded as he took his leave.

"All will be well, Harry," Dumbledore comforted.

Harry could only nod as he exited the office, not at all convinced by the words of the man.

(BREAK)

He was right to be concerned. The very next night, another student was attacked, and the finger of suspicion was firmly pointed at him by most students. As such, he found himself on the receiving end of accusing stares, whispering and pointing or outright avoidance. In the space of two days, he had become a social pariah.

Not that things were truly any different for him. The only thing that had changed was that none would seek out his company and he was left to navigate the school without being hindered. He was used to these stares, had endured them for most of his life along with physical violence. The students at Hogwarts had nothing on the Dursleys. He didn't want anyone to think things of him that weren't true, but it proved to be a firm reminder as to why he kept himself away from others.

People were selfish and fickle. Staying away from them meant that he did not have to experience disappointment when they eventually proved it.

" It will all blow over, Harry," Tom tried as he headed towards the Ravenclaw Tower under his cloak.

Harry merely shrugged in response. It mattered not either way to him.

He was just rounding the corner on the fourth floor when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and pull him into a seldom used classroom.

He drew his wand to defend himself and turned to find himself face to face with the Weasley twins.

"Nice cloak," one of them complimented.

"How did you see me?" Harry asked, removing the cloak and putting his wand back in the holster.

"A secret, one we would like to share with you," the other replied with a wink.

Harry frowned at the two, not in the mood for their antics.

"Don't worry. We don't believe the crap about you being the heir of Slytherin."

"Not the one who got rid of You-Know-Who in the first place," the other added.

"Thanks," Harry answered sarcastically. "But if you don't mind, I've got other people to avoid."

"Wait a sec," one of the pair insisted, putting an arm around his shoulders. "We too, believe it or not, have had to lie low for a while at times. We've got something that will help."

"A map," the other revealed.

"A map?" Harry questioned sceptically.

"Not just any old map, a very special one. George, please demonstrate to our little friend in need."

"Gladly, Fred," the other complied as he held up a weathered piece of parchment. "To activate it, simply tap it with your wand and say I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," George explained as he did so.

Harry's eyes widened as the parchment began to fill with a series of moving images and lettering.

"As you can see, it isn't only a map of the school, but it also shows where everyone is. Look, Snape is skulking around the dungeons," George pointed out the dot of the man moving slowly through the lower corridors of the school.

"This is amazing," Harry complimented. "Did you make it?"

"Oh, no. We are brilliant but not like this. This came courtesy of Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs."

"And they are?"

He received a shrug in reply.

"No idea, but we whipped this from Filch's desk during our second year."

"And you're giving it to me?"

The twins nodded.

"We discussed it and we agree that we owe you. You got me out of a week's detention last year and then you trounced Flint. It's either you get the map or we both kiss you. Either way, your need is greater than ours. We know all the secret passages now and it's less fun with no chance of getting caught," Fred finished with a shrug.

Harry nodded appreciatively. A map like this would be exceedingly useful.

"Well, I'm grateful for it," he replied sincerely.

"Just be sure to wipe it when you're done. Mischief Managed," he said clearly, tapping the parchment and removing any trace of the map.

With only a little hesitance, he handed it to the younger boy before they headed towards the door.

"Use it well," George suggested with a nod as he left the room.

"Bloody lunatics," Harry sighed as he pocketed the parchment. There was nothing that anyone could offer that would make him part with it.

(BREAK)

The map did indeed become one of the items he would not be without daily, and he found himself consulting it regularly. He would do so when he was leaving the tower and his hidden room on the seventh floor and thus far, had managed to avoid anyone he had no wish to speak to.

Thankfully, no further attacks had happened since the one just before Christmas and the school had seemingly moved on from him as being the most talked about person. The two students were still in a state of petrification, but Dumbledore had assured the rest of them that their condition would be remedied come the end of the school year when the Mandrake's were ready to be harvested.

Harry couldn't understand why the man wished to wait when it was likely the restorative solution could be purchased elsewhere. According to Tom, however, it was a very difficult brew and extortionately expensive. Luckily, the school had a potion master to hand who could create the required mix.

Putting the thoughts of the victims to the back of his mind, Harry had been busy continuing with his own preparations. He'd been given a form to select which other areas of magic he would like to begin studying next year. With his work already begun on the subject, he naturally selected Ancient Runes as one of his electives and Arithmancy as the other. Both would prove to be useful when it came to career options, many that appealed to him requiring one or both practices at OWL level.

He had considered adding care of magical creatures to his list but had ultimately decided against it. He had no desire to be a magizooligist nor a zookeeper so could see no use in the subject.

With the weather having broken now they had entered April, Harry decided that he would attend his first quidditch match since arriving at the school. He was curious as to see why almost every person in the school was obsessed with the sport just as many muggles were with football, and, Terry had asked him to. He had been the only one in his year that had managed to seek him out and tell him he didn't believe he was Slytherin's heir. As a pureblood, he quickly realised that Harry was not closely related to the man, so it couldn't be him. He had questioned how Harry had become a parselmouth and he'd been given the same response the rest of the school had; it was likely a side-effect from the curse he'd been hit with as a baby.

It was difficult to refute it when it was the truth as far as Harry knew. There was no other explanation as to why he could converse with serpents.

"So, you have the three chasers, the two beaters, a keeper and a seeker," he repeated after Terry had explained and pointed out each position above the pitch.

Terry nodded.

"It's easier to pick up if you just watch it. There are so many rules to the game that I doubt anyone knows all of them," the boy replied.

"Do you play?" Harry asked.

"As a beater," Terry proudly. "I'm hoping I get the chance to play for the house team at some point."

Harry nodded, surprised by the level of enthusiasm shown by his housemate.

"Oi, what's going on?" Terry asked with a frown as Madam Hooch walked on to the pitch with Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"THIS MATCH HAS BEEN CANCELLED. ALL STUDENTS ARE TO RETURN TO THEIR COMMON ROOMS IMMEDIATELY," the deputy head announced.

"Another attack?" an older boy from behind asked, staring at Harry.

"He's been with me for the past two hours," Terry defended. "Get some bloody sense about you."

The older boy muttered and shrugged as the crowd began heading into the castle.

"I'm going to see what I can find out," Harry whispered, nodding in the direction of the retreating staff members. "I'll come back to the common room soon."

Terry nodded worriedly as he watched Harry vanished within the moving bodies.

(BREAK)

"Who is it that has been attacked?" Gilderoy Lockhart questioned the staff entered the castle.

"Hermione Granger," Professor McGonagall confirmed. "She has been taken to the Hospital Wing."

As quickly as his legs could carry him without giving himself away, Harry raced towards where the girl was. They hadn't spoken much recently, but this attack had hit him more personally than the others. Carefully, he pushed open the door and sunk into a chair next to the bed where the girl seemingly rested peacefully.

" I'm sorry, Harry," Tom mumbled.

Harry said nothing as he took the girls hand in his own to give it a comforting squeeze, only for his hand to encounter something other than the expected flesh.

With a frown, he managed to tug the piece of parchment from her grip and flattened it out to read.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

Underneath the writing and added in fresh ink was the word pipes.

"She must have been investigating it," Harry muttered, memories of the eleven-year-old girl looking for a lost toad on a train surfacing. "Stupid, brilliant girl."

He released a deep sigh, contemplating what he should do with the information he had. It was not a favourable position to be in. At the very least, he would have to give Dumbledore this piece of parchment. He needed to know what exactly was roaming the school.

He exited the Hospital Wing to come upon the man himself and McGonagall rushing past and hurrying up the next flight of stairs. He followed them until they reached the sixth floor and stopped just short of them as they paused in front of what Harry knew to be a wall.

"Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever," McGonagall read. "Who?"

"Ginevra Weasley," Dumbledore sighed. "She is somehow responsible for the attacks on the students. Herself and Harry Potter are the only two unaccounted for. We must inform Arthur and Molly as we mount a search."

Harry removed the map from his pocket and scanned it frantically for any sign of the girl. After a moment of searching, he watched as her dot vanished whilst inside a bathroom on the second floor.

"Wait, professor," he called as he removed his cloak and ran to catch up with the pair.

"Ah, Harry, I am pleased you have surfaced. However, there is currently the most pressing issue…"

"It's a basilisk," Harry interrupted. "That's the creature attacking the students. The Weasley girl entered the bathroom on the second floor and vanished from there. I'm guessing the chamber entrance is in there somewhere."

Dumbledore's eyes widened at the influx of information.

"How do you know all this, Potter?" McGonagall questioned.

"Hermione figured out it was a basilisk," he explained as he handed the woman the piece of parchment he had retrieved from the girl. "I saw the girl enter the bathroom only a few moments ago."

It was not the entire truth, but he was not going to reveal the map to the man.

"You may have just saved a young girl's life, Harry," he praised as he drew his wand and flicked it three times as he headed towards the second floor. "Minerva, you are in charge until I return. I have sent for Severus, Filius and Gilderoy to assist me."

"Don't be such a fool, Albus. Call in the Ministry. You cannot hope to take on a basilisk."

"I fear there is no time. She will likely have perished before they arrive. Do as I ask, please, Minerva."

"Let's go, professor," Harry urged.

"Excuse me?" McGonagall demanded. "You are not going anywhere young man."

"Well, if it is where the entrance to the chamber is, don't you think having a parselmouth is required?"

Dumbledore sighed before McGonagall could reply.

"As much as I dislike it, he is right," the headmaster conceded. "You will stay under the cloak and do as you are instructed, Harry. It is paramount that you listen to any instruction I give you."

Harry nodded his agreement before pulling the cloak back over his head.

" What are you doing, Harry? You cannot go and fight a basilisk!"

"I don't have a choice, Tom," Harry whispered.

" Don't do this, Harry. Please, listen to me. This can only end badly for you."

"Unless you have anything to tell me that will help, you need to be quiet now," Harry bit back.

The voice fell silent and Harry continued to follow Dumbledore until they reached the bathroom door. They were joined a moment later by Snape, Flitwick and Gilderoy Lockhart wearing his usual irritating grin.

"What's the news?" he asked as though such a severe incident hadn't occurred at all.

"Ginevra Weasley has been taken into the chamber of secrets. I have received good information that the entrance may very well be in this bathroom."

Snape took the revelation with little more than a nod as he drew his wand with Flitwick following suit. Lockhart's eyes widened before he managed to compose himself with a nod.

"Very well, give me a moment to prepare and I shall join you," he offered as he turned to leave.

"There's no time, Gilderoy," Dumbledore sighed. "It was also brought to my attention that there may be a basilisk within."

Snape paled at the implication and swallowed deeply.

"Where did this information come from?" he asked.

"Me," Harry answered, revealing his head, causing Lockhart to yelp in surprise.

"Harry has kindly volunteered to come with us. As a parselmouth, we may need him," Dumbledore explained.

Snape was about to protest when he was cut off by the older man.

"There is no time to argue, Severus. We have so few options available to us."

Snape reluctantly nodded.

"Stay close to me, Potter," he said firmly. "If things go wrong, you must leave. Do you understand?"

"Yes, professor," Harry agreed.

"Then let us begin," Dumbledore instructed soberly as he pushed open the door with his own wand drawn.

The five of them entered the bathroom, stepping onto a flooded floor.

"Who's there?" a high-pitched voice demanded to know.

"It is Professor Dumbledore, Myrtle," the headmaster replied. "Have you seen anyone come in here recently?"

"Only the same redheaded girl," the ghost sniffed. "She's always in here."

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know. She just stares at me until I leave."

Dumbledore frowned and nodded.

"Excuse my rudeness, but you died in this very room if I am correct," he stated.

"I did," Myrtle confirmed. "I was crying in the cubicle because Olive Hornby had been making fun of my glasses when I heard it."

"What did you hear?"

"A boys' voice. I opened the door to tell him to get out and that's when I saw them. The big, dirty yellow eyes, right by that sink," she explained, pointing at the fixture in question. "Then, I died," she finished with a shrug.

Harry made his way over to the sink and began searching for any sign that it was more than it appeared to be. It was when he was investigating the taps that he spotted a very small snake engraved into the back of one.

"It's here," he announced.

Immediately, the professors surrounded him as he pointed out the barely discernible serpent.

"Very well done, Harry," Dumbledore praised. "Do you think you can open it?"

"I can give it a go," he shrugged uncertainly. "Open."

Dumbledore shook his head as his attempt fell flat.

"English," he confirmed. "Try now," he advised as he summoned a small corn snake.

" Open" he hissed as he looked at the snake, stepping away from the sink as a series of bangs and clanging pipes was heard. The sink slowly began to sink into the floor revealing a large opening.

"Well, he didn't make the password difficult," Harry commented.

"I suspect just a demonstration of the language would be sufficient," Dumbledore mused aloud as he lit his wand and illuminated the gaping hole.

"You first, Lockhart," Harry encouraged. "You are the most experienced out of us all when dealing with dangerous creatures. Was it not three vampires you defeated without a wand? I imagine a basilisk will be a doddle for you."

The man gaped at the boy as Snape curled his lip in amusement.

"I will go," Dumbledore volunteered, coming to the defence professor's aid.

He sunk to the floor and positioned himself so that he could slide into the abyss.

"Wait until I give you the go ahead and then follow," he instructed before pushing himself into the darkness.

It was around a minute later that he called up hat he was okay and that it was safe to proceed.

"The exit is none to pleasant. I have cast a cushioning charm."

Flitwick took the plunge next, followed by Snape.

"You next," Harry insisted, poking Lockhart in the chest with his wand.

"Harry, I must…"

He got no further with his protestation as Harry pushed him sharply into the hole and followed immediately after, taking glee in the man's screams that were cut off with a gentle thump as he reached the bottom.

"Are you quite alright, Gilderoy?" Dumbledore asked as he pulled the trembling Lockhart to his feet.

The man could only nod, his usually kempt hair now in disarray.

"Shall we proceed?" Dumbledore questioned as he began to lead them through a rather large opening. "Oh, dear," he exclaimed, his wand light bringing in a rather surprising sight.

Within the tunnel was the largest snakeskin Harry had ever seen. It was thicker than he was and stretched at least sixty feet. Lockhart whimpered at the sight, trembling at what was to come.

" Harry, I am begging you, please don't go in there."

Harry ignored the voice. Tom had not been very forthcoming about the chamber and his curiosity was getting the better of him. He had at least had the intuition to get help rather than attempting to go it alone. Only a fool would do something like that knowing what awaited them here.

"I do believe I will require your assistance once more, Harry," Dumbledore spoke having come to an ornate metal door blocking their path.

The man already had a conjured snake waiting for him for when he arrived, the ones forming the lock quite real but wouldn't as be as effective as an actual serpent.

" Open," he hissed once more.

The snakes began to move as the door unlocked, all five now with their wands in hand and ready to defend themselves.

"Cloak, Harry," Dumbledore advised. "Allow us to handle whatever is inside. Help Miss Weasley if you can."

Harry nodded as the group entered. It was a lengthy cavern with statues of snakes lining the wall on either side that led to a larger, circular room at the end with what appeared to be a river of sorts bordering the entirety.

It was an unexpected sight they came upon. Instead of a young redheaded girl, the found another student, this one an older boy wearing the robes of Slytherin house. As they approached, he turned to face them, an oddly calm smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head in curiosity. The smile widened as he laughed gleefully

"It must have been much longer than I thought. You've grown old, Dumbledore."

Harry paused in his steps at the familiarity of the voice. It was the very same one he'd been hearing for the last five years. He found himself hoping beyond hope that he was mistaken.

"And somehow, you find yourself as youthful as when you where but a boy here, Tom," the headmaster replied, shattering what little hope Harry had that he was mistaken.

His stomach sunk as the realisation set in. The voice, the name. It couldn't be a coincidence. This was very much the Tom he had come to know, the Tom that had been protecting him since he was seven years old.

He didn't know what to think as a myriad of emotions washed over him; fear, betrayal, confusion. Just who was this boy and what was he doing in Harry's head.

" Harry, you must allow me the chance to explain," Tom pleaded. "Please, it is not as you believe."

The boy swallowed the lump in his throat as he shook his head. He didn't want to hear the voice, he wanted Tom to leave him alone. He felt sick as the almost opaque apparition of the boy continued his vitriol with the headmaster who was trying to put an end to whatever he was doing.

The resemblance between himself and the Slytherin, was quite uncanny. From the dark hair, pale complexion, down to the green eyes they possessed. Even their facial shape held similarities that Harry could not ignore.

"ENOUGH," the boy shouted, his anger getting the better of him. "You always were a man of words, Dumbledore. Now, allow me to show you what true power is. See for yourself the power of Salazar Slytherin. Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four," he hissed, though the words were lost on the professors.

The grinding of stone could be heard as the mouth of a face carved into the wall behind the boy began to open and Dumbledore sprung into action. Levelling his wand, he cast a spell that fought against it, slowing it considerably. Seeing what the man was doing, both Snape and Flitwick assisted him, successfully preventing the gap from opening any further than it already had.

"You cannot win, Dumbledore. You find yourself facing the might of Slytherin himself. You do not compare," the boy finished with a cackle.

As he finished speaking, an impact was heard as something smashed against the stone from the other side, followed by a screech of fury. Another crashing blow against the stone and small chunks of it started crumbling away, all the while, the Slytherin boy looked on with a maniacal gleam in his eye.

"What do I do?" Harry questioned himself, having no idea how he could assist the professors in their predicament.

Lockhart was stood frozen to one side, his demeanour resembling the petrified form of Hermione Granger. Harry needed no proof that the man was a liar before this but seeing him this way solidified his belief further. Off to one side of the room, he spotted the form of the girl they had come here to retrieve. She was sprawled across the ground, unmoving.

"Don't just stand there, you idiot," he hissed from beneath his cloak as he reached the cowardly man. "Help me get the girl out of here."

Lockhart remained in his frozen state and Harry gave him a kick of annoyance as he ran to see if he could wake the unconscious Gryffindor. Reaching her, she was clutching a small, leather-bound book in one hand and her wand in the other. He removed the latter and pocketed it before he shook her roughly by the shoulder.

She remained limp and her lips were beginning to turn blue. Harry was no healer, but even he knew that wasn't a good sign.

"Come one," he urged as he shook her roughly again, his efforts releasing the book from her grip. With a frown, he reached to pick it up.

" Don't touch it," Tom warned. "It is a very dangerous object."

"Unless you can help me with any of this, piss off," Harry seethed. "How the bloody hell can I stop it?"

He heard Tom sigh before the voice spoke once more.

" I don't know if you will be able to take control of the basilisk. There is a chance, but I wouldn't risk it unless it becomes a necessity. The book is dark magic, as dark as it comes and has proven to be my greatest feat and my biggest failure. You will either need basilisk venom or to be able to cast fiendfyre to destroy it. Severus may be able to help you there."

He turned to get the assistance of the potions master, only to be confronted with the image of Gilderoy Lockhart stood in front of him, his wand pointing in his direction.

"This will be my greatest story yet," the man declared. "I return up there with the body of the girl. I fought so bravely to save her, but she perished before I could defeat the basilisk. It will be of no consequence, and I could take the skin," he seemingly spoke to himself. "Dumbledore, Snape and Flitwick get a heroic death and I become more famous than ever. It's perfect. Except for you," he added with a frown towards the boy. "Well, there is always a way to handle that. Sorry, Potter, Obliv-AHH."

He was cut off by Harry driving his foot into his groin, just as he had seen one man do to another during his evening at 'The Hairless Hag'. He followed up with a stunning spell and Lockhart fell limp to the ground.

Shaking his head, he levitated the discarded book and ran towards the trio of professors holding the basilisk at bay.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" the boy garbed in Slytherin robes asked, taking note of his appearance.

"Professor, can you cast fiendfyre?" Harry asked, distracting the potions master from his efforts.

The man glared at him angrily, his eyes questioning him of how he obtained knowledge of such magic before he nodded.

"You have to destroy it," Harry urged. "Quickly."

After another questioning look, the man ceased his efforts to hold the serpent at bay.

"Move away, Potter," he instructed.

Harry did so, his eyes widening as a large, unknown creature of fire erupted from the end of the professor's wand.

"NO," the physical manifestation of Tom screamed as the book was engulfed by the flame, he too vanishing only a moment later with a hateful glare towards Harry.

Harry could only look on as Snape seemingly wrestled with his own spell, the effort of which left him sweating profusely and panting from exhaustion as it finally fizzled out.

"SEVERUS," Dumbledore called loudly as another loud impact and screech sounded. "We cannot keep it at bay much longer."

Both himself and Flitwick were starting to tire from their own work as the serpent relentlessly tried to break free. Snape again joined them, though it was little more than a gesture of goodwill. It was plain to see that the spell he used to destroy the book had taken its toll on the man.

" You will have to try to take control of her, Harry. Without him here, you may have more luck. Her name is Serana. I will talk you through it."

Harry nodded uncertainly as he conjured a snake of his own and walked towards the still crumbling opening of the mouth, several pieces of additional stone that had been conjured little more than a pile of rubble around it.

"HARRY, GET BACK," Dumbledore shouted.

Harry ignored the man as he prepared himself to attempt what was likely the stupidest thing he had ever done.

" Serana," he hissed, still the pounding continued. "SERANA," he tried again, this time his hissing loud enough to echo off the walls of the chamber.

The crashing against the stone halted.

" Repeat after me, Harry. Rest, Serana, the people here mean us no harm."

" Rest, Serana, the people here mean us no harm," he copied verbatim.

There was a pause before a lower hissing sounded, one that caused every hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

" Who are you speaker?" she asked slowly. "You are not my master."

" It is I, Serana. It is Tom. Remember when I would bring you a side of beef and we would sleep in front of your statue? I would conjure the blue flames you loved, and you would always ask that I pet your nose?"

Ignoring the strangeness of the situation, Harry again copied what Tom had said word for word.

" TOM," the snake hissed excitedly. "Why didn't you come back. You promised you would."

It was strange to hear such a sadness coming from a monstrous creature. A small part of him felt sorry for her. She too was lonely, just like him.

" I'm sorry. I never intended to leave you for so long, my sweet girl. Bad things happened to me, Serana and I couldn't come back."

Harry spoke the words of his conscience once more, ignoring the stab of emotion Tom spoke with.

" Will you come and see me more?" She asked hopefully.

" I will try," Tom offered uncertainly. "For now, you must rest, my beauty. I will try my best to return to you."

Harry relayed the message as he had been instructed.

" Will you pet my nose for me, just like you used to?"

" Please, Harry," Tom pleaded. "It will help her settle."

" Of course," Harry agreed, ignoring the voice.

He stepped forward to carry out the request, watching in fascination as the maw of the snake became visible at the entrance as she pressed it forward.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape demanded to know.

Harry shot the man a look and shook, gesturing for the three professors to remain where they were and do nothing.

As he approached the hole, he could not help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as the size of the basilisk was made known to him. Without doubt, she could swallow him with little effort on her part.

" You're bleeding," he sighed as he placed his hand on her nose and began rubbing it, eliciting what could only be described as a purr of contentment from the behemoth.

" It will heal, Tom," She assured him, "but one of my teeth is causing me great discomfort. Could you remove it for me?"

" Open your mouth," Harry requested warily. He had no desire to be punctured by one of the fangs within.

She did so, revealing two rows of dagger length teeth, each sharp enough to end the life of any man should she wish, even without the deadly toxin flowing through them.

"Harry," Dumbledore warned unnecessarily.

Harry shook his head at the man before turning his attention back to the job at hand.

" Is it this one?" he asked as he gently gripped the only fang out of alignment.

The snake hissed in discomfort and Harry soothed her with another stroke of her nose.

" Yes," she confirmed with a slight yelp.

" In my experience, it is better to pull a tooth out quickly. It will hurt but it will be over with," he explained.

" Okay," Serana replied uncertainly.

" I will count to three. One, two…"

The snake hissed in agony as he yanked hard on the fang and removed it from her mouth. She began to thrash around once more as Harry pocketed the tooth.

" It's okay," he soothed as he petted her nose. "It's gone now."

" It hurts, Tom," she whimpered as she began to calm.

" I know, but it will get better," he comforted, "but you must rest. You won't feel better until you do."

" Will you please come back?"

Harry nodded uncertainly.

" I will try, for you," he replied sincerely.

In truth, he was terrified, but the snake had proven to be no monster. She was a lonely creature that simply craved company. For the size she had grown to, she had to be several hundred years old. Harry had been lonely for twelve and it had eaten away at him for half of those years.

Serana sighed almost happily as she turned away from the opening and headed back towards what Harry could only assume was her den. When the scraping of her scales against the stone ceased, he turned to be met by the anticipatory stares of the three standing professors.

"She will rest," he sighed. "She's not a threat anymore."

Dumbledore nodded as he deflated, the tension he felt leaving his body.

"You have done well, Harry. Were it not for you, it is likely we would have perished."

Both Snape and Flitwick nodded mutely.

"We must get Miss Weasley and Gilderoy medical attention," the headmaster declared as he tended to the girl. "Severus, will you take hold of Gilderoy."

The sallow man nodded as he looked at the man with distaste and dragged him towards the headmaster.

"Gather round," Dumbledore instructed as he offered an arm each to Snape and Flitwick. "This will be uncomfortable, but our quickest way out of here."

Taking the hint, Harry looped arms with Flitwick as Snape Seized Lockhart by the foot and the Weasley girl was hoisted over Dumbledore's shoulder.

Harry felt as though he was compressed on all sides as he was forced through a tube that he was much to small for. After an almighty crack, he managed to open his eyes to find himself in the Hospital Wing.

Fighting the urge to vomit, he ignored the rush of people that surrounded them, the room spinning uncomfortably. All he could make out was a blur of several mops of red hair and the green robes of the deputy headmistress.

"GINNY," a loud feminine voice screamed, not helping his current condition.

"I believe she will be okay, Molly. She has suffered a most horrific ordeal but will recover physically. When she wakes, Poppy will be able to determine a course of treatment for her. I suspect she will need help from an expert at St Mungo's for the emotional trauma she has sustained."

The woman nodded as a redheaded man placed an arm around her comfortingly.

"Spend some time with your family," the headmaster advised. "We will meet to discuss what has happened later this evening."

"Thank you, Albus," the man offered gratefully.

"It is young Mr. Potter that deserves your gratitude. He truly demonstrated the excellence beyond his years he possesses."

The man and woman turned to him, shocked by the appearance of the young boy to whom Dumbledore referred to.

"Then, I thank you, Mr. Potter," Mr Weasley said with a bow. "I owe you a debt that I cannot hope to repay."

Having such praise bestowed on him did little but make him feel awkward. In truth, he felt that he had done very little. As much as he loathed to admit it, it was Tom that had ensured they were able to get out of the chamber. He pushed his thoughts about him aside, not wanting to think about the latest problem that had surfaced in his life.

He simply gave the man a nod of acknowledgement in response, unable to find any words through his plethora of conflicting emotions.

"Come, Harry, I believe we have much to discuss," Dumbledore instructed. "Minerva, could you please see to Gilderoy? Inform him that I wish to see him in my office in the morning."

The woman nodded and Harry found himself following Snape, Dumbledore and Flitwick towards which unsurprisingly turned out to be the headmaster's office.

"Please, take a seat," the man offered to Harry and the two other professors once they had entered. "Are any of you injured?"

Harry shook his head along with the others.

"Before we begin, I believe that Mr. Potter should be the recipient of a Special Services to the School Award. Any objections?"

"I agree," Snape replied.

"As do I," Flitwick added.

"Excellent," Dumbledore exclaimed. "I do, however, have some questions for you, Harry that I would like you to answer. Firstly, what happened to Gilderoy? As distracted as I was, I did not see what occurred."

"He tried to cast a spell on me. He said something about this being his greatest story. Before he could finish, I kicked and stunned him."

"Understandable in the circumstances," Dumbledore mused aloud. "What about the book you asked Severus to destroy?"

"I don't know, but it seemed important," he answered. "I didn't think a normal spell would work so I asked Professor Snape."

"And just how did you learn of that spell?" the potions master interjected.

"I read about it," Harry sighed. "I wanted to know more about the killing curse and how I survived it and the spell was in there. I haven't tried to use it," he defended.

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if you had," Dumbledore replied before Snape could. "It is a very dangerous piece of magic and as you saw, notoriously difficult to master. One must be sufficiently powerful enough magically and mentally to do such a thing. It does, however, beg the question of how you obtained the book you found it in."

"Borgin and Burke's," Harry replied. "I tried to find what I was looking for in other book shops, but I couldn't find anything."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"I am sorry that you felt the need to do so, Harry. That shop is not one to peruse lightly. There are some very dangerous things in there, even a book can prove to be more than what it appears."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"I have only one other question for you," Dumbledore continued with a light frown marring his features. "When did you become as proficient as you are in occlumency?"

Snape's attention snapped towards the man angrily. He was silenced as Dumbledore held up a hand, his focus remaining on the boy. Flitwick merely looked surprised by the revelation.

Harry met Dumbledore's gaze with his own and felt a slight prodding in his mind. It was rebuffed rather violently without any effort from himself causing the headmaster to flinch in discomfort.

" I promised I would keep your mind safe," Tom whispered.

"What's occlumency?" Harry questioned.

Dumbledore continued to stare at him for a moment before sighing.

"Another possible side-effect?" he questioned himself. "Perhaps, it was passed on just as your ability with parseltongue. Severus?"

The man shook his head.

"It is not something I have ever heard of," he answered with a frown. "Until now, I have never heard of any magical ability to be transferable. If it is possible with parseltongue, there's no reason that a rudimentary ability in occlumency isn't.

Dumbledore hummed in thought.

"Do you ever meditate at all, lose yourself in your thoughts?"

Harry shook his head.

"Could it not be attributable to Harry's instinctual grasp on magic?" Flitwick piped up. "His magic simply defending his mind from being attacked?"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose it could," he conceded. "It is something I will have to ponder further. Any other thoughts, Severus?"

"Potter is proving to be quite the enigma, it seems. I would recommend he begins studying the correct practices to avoid damaging his mind inadvertently."

"I agree. It will also be useful in honing your natural grasp on practical magic. It will give you clarity and better control. I will acquire the correct texts for you, Harry and have them passed on to you. However, I must be very clear. Occlumency is a very controlled and monitored branch of magic by the Ministry. I will have to inform them of your studying of the subject under myself and Severus's supervision."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Before I allow you to leave, do you have any questions?"

"Who was that boy down there? Who is Tom?"

Flitwick too seemed interested in that question and Dumbledore sighed almost guiltily before he spoke.

"Tom was a very troubled boy that attended Hogwarts some fifty years ago. I taught him personally during his time here. He was an extraordinary student, much like yourself, Harry. To his own detriment, he grew to become something much worse than I could have imagined. Had I paid more attention, I could have prevented many deaths, even those of your parents."

"Voldemort?" Harry croaked, eliciting a severe nod from the headmaster.

Harry already knew, deep down. When he heard the voice of the boy in the chamber, it didn't take much to put the pieces together. His mentor, the one person that had been there for him was the very same man that had murdered his parents and tried to do the same to him.

He stood slowly from his chair, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I will be," he replied unconvincingly. "I just want to lie down."

Dumbledore nodded and Harry took his leave, a mixture of sadness and rage pumping through his veins. He didn't understand. He didn't get how Tom, the same Tom that had helped him throughout his life was the cause for all the pain and suffering in the first place.

" Please, Harry, allow me to explain."

Harry said nothing as he pulled his cloak over himself and began the ascent to the seventh floor. He needed answers, and he needed them now to the many questions he had, with no idea where to even begin.

Calming himself enough to create a room, he entered and slammed the door behind him. He paced back and forth, his breathing laboured.

"What are you?" he growled eventually.

" I am something that was created unintentionally the night Voldemort killed your parents. I was intended to become something like the diary, another artefact to add to his dream of immortality."

"YOU ARE VOLDEMORT," Harry raged. "You killed my parents and you tried to kill me. What the fuck are you doing in my head?"

" That is complicated," Tom sighed.

"Then try."

" The killing curse has a rather profound effect on the human soul. When used and a life is taken, the soul is fractured. It is no secret that Voldemort used the curse liberally and damaged his soul beyond repair. He used this to his advantage and created artefacts that could house a piece of his soul, rendering him almost immortal."

"Almost?"

" If one was to locate these artefacts and destroy them, he would be as mortal as any man. When his curse was rebounded, instead of killing him, a piece of his fractured soul attached itself to you."

Harry huffed in confusion. He understood about the soul containers and the killing curse, but there was one thing truly bothering him.

"Are you or are you not Voldemort?"

" Yes and no," Tom answered uncertainly. "Becoming Voldemort was never my intention. I had become him before I realised it was too late. Voldemort is the worst of me, manifested. When I began the process of creating the horcruxes, I didn't understand the consequences. The more I created, the more I was corrupted by the siphoning of my soul. Voldemort is the result of abusing the darkest of magicks. The creation of a horcrux is a ritual and rituals require a sacrifice, in this case, a life and part of your soul. I did not factor in the importance of the soul on identity, on personality, nor stability. Because of my foolishness, I lost much of who I was, and the bits left behind became dominant. The absence of my better qualities is Voldemort."

"So, you didn't want to become him?"

" No. I do not deny that I have always been ambitious, had desire to change the world around me and crave power, but there was more to me before I took that step too far. I was bright, gifted and wanted to make the world a better place for me and those like me. I grew up much like yourself, surrounded by those that despised me because I was different. I didn't want any magical child to grow like that."

He released a sigh before continuing.

" This is why I urge caution with your intent. I intended to become powerful, to be the best I could, to be influential and be a leader. Because of my abuse of the magic I didn't fully understand, I became just that and only that. I did not account for the repercussions."

Harry nodded, understanding much of what had been said.

"Why did you try to kill me? Why my parents?"

" There is a prophecy that pertains to Voldemort and a child born to be his equal. I do not know the entirety of it. All I know is that Voldemort was fearful of one that could challenge him, and he marked you as his equal."

Unwittingly, Harry's hand grazed of the scar he had received that fateful night.

"I'm not strong enough to beat him," he sighed defeatedly.

" Yes, Harry, you are. At the age of seven, you successfully apparated. That was when your magic truly awoke. That day, I felt what you could one day be, and I decided that I would help you put an end to the monster I became. Your magic gave me the strength to communicate with you and that is what sustains me to this day."

Harry shook his head disbelievingly. He was not one to fall for honeyed words.

"Am I one of those containers?"

" No, you are something different. I could not hope to take over your body the same way the diary did to the Weasley girl. I exist as only a small piece of soul, yours is whole. Remember, it is your magic that sustains me. Without you, I would be nothing. If you die, then I die with you."

"Why are you not like him? If you are a part of his soul from when he came for me, then how are you not just like him?"

" I don't know," Tom admitted. "It could be that I am sharing a body with a complete soul or that I was the final vestige of humanity left in him. It might well be that because your magic is feeding me that I have adopted some of your traits. This is something that I doubt has ever happened before."

"What do you think it is?"

" I think I saw a lot of myself in you and I did not want you to follow the same path. I saw you struggle day to day and was unable to help you. When I got the chance to give you something worth holding on to, I took it. Voldemort has no humanity and no right to live after what he has done. It should be you that puts an end to him Harry, prophecy or not, there is no other that deserves it the way you do."

"How can I trust you? You could be lying to me?"

" Have I not proven to you that I am trying to help? For the past five years I have been teaching you, I introduced you to the wizarding world and have been doing all I can to ensure that it is you that survives, Harry. I wish I could take back the things I did and stop myself becoming him, but I can't. When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"You haven't," Harry conceded.

" I could have manipulated you, taken advantage of you but that is not what I am here for. Please, Harry, I want you to live."

Harry released a deep breath.

"What happens when he's gone and you're the only piece of his soul left?"

" I will still be as I am. I will still be you and you me."

"Do you think I can win?"

" Even without me, Harry, I would believe in you. There is so much to you that you don't even know yet. You are so like me but so much more."

"I can't get rid of you, can I? You said yourself that only fiendfyre or basilisk venom can destroy what you are. They would both kill me."

" And it would all be for nothing," Tom sighed. "You would destroy us both and he would live."

"And what if someone finds out about you? They will try to kill me."

" I suspect that Dumbledore will figure it out, but without the diary, it will take longer. I'm sorry, Harry, but when he does, he will be no ally of yours. He will do what he sees as best for everyone else and that would be to get rid of me."

"Even at my expense," Harry muttered.

" Oh, he won't kill you. He will try to make you see that it is the right thing to do to rid the world of the Dark Lord."

"Then I am alone in this."

" No, Harry, never alone. You have me and that is all you will need for this fight. You have to remember; I know all of Voldemort's secrets."

"I still don't understand," Harry sighed.

" No, but I will help you along the way with whatever you need. You will get through this, Harry."

"So, where do we begin?" the boy asked.

" We continue as we are. The horcruxes are protected and beyond your ability. Even with my guidance, you will die. For now, we bide our time. When it is right, we will strike him down and put an end to him, that is what we will focus on. He is an extraordinarily dangerous wizard and you will need to be the same. I can show you how. You simply have to trust me."

It was a bitter pill for Harry to swallow. He wanted to hate Tom, to truly hate him, but he couldn't. He had been the one thing he had in his life that had shown him the way, that had been there for him and was willing to help. He couldn't count on Dumbledore or anyone else. This was his fight and he would do whatever was necessary to be prepared for it.

Exhausted from all that had occurred this day, he merely nodded.

A/N

The next chapter marks the final one in this style. It will not continue to be one year per chapter but will revert to my usual style of writing. Think of these chapters as an extended prologue with the main story picking up in fourth year.

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