So, welcome, everyone. If you've never met me before, I'm CracktheSkye, or just Skye. This is only my second story, and an experiment in a completely different fanbase than my previous story, so please forgive any egregious errors. I'm always open to constructive criticism, so if you find something wrong, let me know so I can fix it. Especially since this is a Harry Potter fic, and I'm American born and raised. Any Britpickers reading this story are welcome to tell me exactly what I'm doing wrong. If you've read my other story, you should know that this will be my short-update story, with more frequent and shorter chapters, while Indomitable Spirit will remain my long-update story. The concept of this story arose while I was rereading the Potter series, and my e-mail told me there was a Bleach update. The idea sparked, and this story began to germinate in the deep recesses of my subconscious. It's not a straight Bleach crossover, but it will incorporate several concepts from Bleach. I am undecided on pairing as of now. I'm unsure if I can actually write a good developing relationship, but we'll see. Thank you all for listening to a partially-deranged high school student's pre-story rant.
And now, without further ado…
CracktheSkye proudly presents:
MAGUS ET ENSIS
Disclaimer: Sigh…No, I don't own Harry Potter. Or Bleach. Even worse, I don't own any more Twinkies.
Book One, Chapter One: Serpens et Ensis
"One, Two! One, Two! And through and through
the vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back."
Jabberwocky, Lewis Carroll
29 May, 1993 Hogwarts Castle
Harry ducked as the basilisk's tail swung wildly over his head, and felt something soft hit him in the face. The basilisk's thrashing had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. Without a second's hesitation, Harry snatched up the hat, rolling to the left as the heavy tail slammed down less than a foot away from him. Harry jammed the battered old hat on his head, and desperately threw himself down as the tail scythed through the air above his head again.
Help me – help me – Harry thought as hard as could, eyes screwed tight shut. Please help me –
The hat did not respond as it had when he was a First Year. Instead, it felt as if it was squeezing around Harry's head like an invisible vise.
Something heavy – and very hard – thudded onto the top of the Gryffindor's head. He saw stars dance in front of his vision for a moment, and almost passed out. Recovering himself, he yanked the hat off of his head, and stuck his hand into it. He felt the cool touch of metal, and closed his hand around whatever it was.
There was a sudden sensation of warmth in his hand, and it spread up his arm and into his chest.
Yes, you'll do nicely.
The voice was low and rumbling, but was undeniably pleased. Harry pulled whatever-it-was from the hat in one motion, and stared at it.
It was a gleaming silvery sword, with large rubies set into the pommel and crossguard. Obeying some instinct, Harry raised the sword to chest height, his right hand tightening its grip on the handle.
"~WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN STILL SEE HIM! BITE HIM TO DEATH! BEAT HIM WITH YOUR TAIL UNTIL HE BREAKS IN TWO!~" Riddle hissed, face contorted with rage.
Harry froze. The snake was blinded by Fawkes. Wasn't it? So why was the snake's head, with its bloody, empty sockets where its eyes should be, turning slowly, inexorably towards him? Harry scooted to his right, hoping it was just chance… and the Basilisk's head followed him.
And then Harry remembered a display in the Reptile House, nearly three years ago, of a pit viper:
The pit viper uses the "pits" on its head to see heat from its prey, even in total darkness.
In the same moment that Harry came to the horrified realization that the basilisk could still see him, the snake lunged forward, its fangs gleaming with venom –
Harry threw himself to the side, the massive jaws snapping shut on empty air. The young Gryffindor spun, raising the sword to stab the snake in its side.
Duck!
Harry hesitated at the sound of the voice. It cost him, as the serpent's tail slammed into his torso. It felt like Dudley had just hit him with a sledgehammer, and Harry's vision swam for a moment before clearing.
Roll left!
This time Harry obeyed the voice, and rolled across the damp stones, just barely dodging another pounding tail-strike.
Get up and jump right.
Understanding now that the voice was trying to help him, the black-haired boy scrambled to his feet, then leapt to his right, and felt the rush of wind next to him from the serpent's lunge.
!
The next command had no discernible words, but was instead an immense urge to slash out to the left with his sword. Harry obeyed the strange instinct, spinning to the left and slicing downward, from right to left. The blade met the basilisk's scales – and shuddered as it bit through the scales, leaving a long, deep cut in the serpent's side. The massive snake hissed in pain, and blood, hot and red, spewed from the wound, showering Harry in the crimson liquid. The basilisk's head snapped towards him, and lashed out faster than Harry could react.
A sharp, fiery pain lanced into Harry's arm, and there was a splintering sound as one of the basilisk's fangs snapped off, leaving the venomous tooth in the wound. Harry choked out a half scream, and stumbled backward, his left arm hanging limply at his side, the fang still sticking out of it. He weakly raised the sword, the tip wavering. Riddle laughed, high and cold.
"Do you see now, Harry Potter? How futile your struggles are against the power of the Heir of Slytherin? Now…die! ~KILL HIM~!"
The basilisk reared back, hissing, as it prepared to strike. Harry stared up at his death, and was terrified. He could feel the venom from the fang, burning its way down his left arm, and back up into his shoulder, and through the rest of his body. It sapped at his strength, and his vision began to blur. Riddle's chilling laughter sounded as if it was coming from far away. He was going to die, Ginny was going to die, and Tom Riddle was going to be free inside Hogwarts.
Then, the world stopped. The sound of Riddle's laughter hung suspended in the silence, and the serpent froze in place, like the largest museum exhibit in the world. Harry felt a strange warmth seep from the hand holding the sword into the rest of his body. The sword felt lighter in his hand, and the voice spoke to him again.
Why do you hesitate, Harry? That which clouds your vision is worthless fear. You are a Gryffindor, and your enemy is before you. Abandon your fear. Face forward. Move onward. Never stop.
The warmth built up in Harry's chest, and his vision cleared. Something within him began rising.
If you retreat, you will age. If you hesitate, you will die. Roar it! My name is –
The world snapped into motion, and the basilisk lashed forward, even as the rising force burst out of Harry.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Red-gold light erupted around the sword, and Harry stabbed the blade upward, cutting cleanly through the basilisk's hide and piercing up through the skull, into the brain. Blood fountained from the wound, evaporating into crimson mist as it met the glowing magic around the sword. Like a limp rag, the snake collapsed to the floor in front of Harry, dead. Harry's legs folded underneath him, and he, too, slumped down to the cold stones. The light around the blade faded, and it was once again a normal sword. Harry let the ancient weapon clatter to the ground. With trembling fingers, he reached over with his right hand and grasped the fang.
Gritting his teeth, he wrenched it out, barely holding in a scream. It was a pointless effort, Harry knew. The poison was in his heart, and it was just a matter of time.
A rush of feathers, and Fawkes landed next to Harry. Weakly, Harry stroked the phoenix's feathers with his only good arm.
"You were brilliant Fawkes." He croaked.
Harry heard footsteps, and Tom Riddle's ever-more-physical shade stood over him, a sneer on his face that outstripped Draco Malfoy's best by miles.
"You're dead, Harry Potter. Dead. Even Dumbledore's pet chicken knows it. See? He's crying."
Harry turned his head. Though his vision was beginning to blur and tunnel, he could just make out the reflection of light below the phoenix's eyes. The tears rolled off the phoenix's face, and Harry felt them drip into his wound.
Then Riddle kicked out with an almost-corporeal foot, and Fawkes took off, like a startled pigeon. Riddle laughed again.
"So ends the great Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Alone, in the Chamber of Secrets, without his friends, failing even to save one…little…girl. You'll be with your Mudblood mother soon enough, Potter. She managed to buy you eleven years, but in the end, Lord Voldemort always triumphs."
The shade crouched down, a sadistically excited gleam in his eyes. "So, Potter, any last words?"
Harry desperately wanted to reach out and punch Riddle in the face, and wipe the smirk off of his face. But it was too far, and the venom had drained all the strength from his limbs. His vision was fading, turning to black…
The pain began to fade away. Was this what dying was like? It wasn't too bad, Harry thought. He felt warm, like being wrapped in the most comfortable blanket in the world.
Then, he felt a jerk on the back of his neck – Did souls have necks? – as if something had grabbed him there.
Not so fast, cub. It's not your time to go yet. Look, your body's not even dead yet.
Sensation returned to Harry all at once. The cold dampness of the floor below him, the burning ache of the venom, that even now was fading away to a dull throb in his left arm, and then into nothing. Harry's eyes found Riddle, who had turned away. Harry shifted, pushing himself up to a sitting position. His fingers found the smooth, curved shape of the basilisk's fang, and clenched around it.
Even if he failed to save Ginny, he could still kill Riddle now…
Then Harry's foot scuffed against the floor, and Riddle whirled, holding Harry's wand at the ready. His eyes widened, then narrowed, the sneer only faltering for a moment.
"How…? Of course, phoenix tears. I almost forgot."
Harry glanced down at the arm where Fawkes' tears had landed. The gaping hole the fang had left as it punched through skin and sliced muscle before scraping against bone was almost completely gone, leaving only a ragged, white scar.
Riddle spoke again. "No matter. Now I can have the pleasure of killing you myself. And then I'll kill your blood-traitor friend and that Mudblood bitch. Oh, she was a clever one, wasn't she Potter? She figured it out all on her own. But it didn't save her, just like it won't save you."
Something in Harry snapped, and he surged to his feet, a roar building in his chest. Riddle casually gestured with the wand in his hand, and an invisible force slammed into the Gryffindor, knocking him back onto the floor. The Slytherin slowly walked towards him.
"Admirable, but futile Potter. And now…"
The shade was cut off by a loud, musical screech, as Fawkes swept by, dropping a small object in Harry's lap as he passed. Harry and Riddle both looked down at it, momentarily frozen in surprise. Then, Harry glanced up, and met Riddle's eyes. In those dark orbs was something new.
Fear.
The strange voice did not even have to say anything this time. Harry raised the fang high, its still-envenomed tip glinting dully in the light of the Chamber, and, as Riddle shouted "No!" drove it down into the book.
Riddle screamed, a high, unearthly keening that Harry was sure could have been heard all the way in Gryffindor Tower. The shade stumbled, and fell to his knees, Harry's wand dropping from fingers that reached up to claw wildly at a horrified visage. Thick, black ink, instead of blood, began leaking from Riddle's nose, mouth, ears, and tear ducts. The image of the shade wavered, replaced by an ugly, twisted thing that was a parody of the human form in a similar position, then Riddle's form reasserted itself. For nearly a full minute, the scream continued unabated, the writhing image of Riddle growing less and less solid by the second, until, finally, in one final, terrible crescendo, the shade of Tom Riddle tore itself apart.
For a long second, the echo of Riddle's scream reverberated in the chamber. Then, Ginny Weasley sat bolt upright, eyes wide. Her eyes found Harry, climbing painfully to his feet. The younger girl pelted across the room, and threw her arms around Harry, sobbing into his chest.
"So cold…he…he…I'm sorry…"
Harry was honestly at a loss for words, so instead simply patted the sobbing redhead on the back, while she continued to soak his bloodstained robes with tears, repeating "Sorry" over and over again.
"Er…It's all right, Ginny. He's gone. He won't hurt you again."
The youngest Weasley pulled away finally, wiping tears away from her eyes, and nodded. Harry turned, and bent over, picking up the strange sword, and feeling the warmth once again steal through his body. He considered the fang still gripped in his hand for a moment, before tucking it into a pocket.
For a moment, both Harry and Ginny stared down at the ink-soaked diary, before Ginny, hands trembling, picked it up, and gave it to him. For a moment, the First Year looked like she would burst into tears again, until Fawkes, fluttering down to land on Harry's shoulder, crooned softly, bringing a reluctant smile to her face.
"Come on then," Harry said, "Let's get out of here."
The trek back out of the Chamber seemed to take far less time than the journey in, Harry reflected. Maybe it was because the primal terror of facing a basilisk was no longer present, or maybe it was the vermillion bird perched on his shoulder. Regardless of the reason, Harry and Ginny soon found themselves in front of the rockfall. Ron's face, worried and fearful, appeared in a good-sized gap higher up on the pile. The look of worry rapidly changed to one of relief.
"GINNY! You're okay!"
Harry and Ginny clambered up the rockfall and through the hole. Ron tightly embraced Ginny the moment she was through, and gave Harry a tight smile.
"Harry…mate…thank you."
The three of them, with Fawkes softly glowing feathers lighting the way, slowly walked back up the tunnel. Ron glanced at the sword that Harry still held.
"What's with the sword, mate?"
Harry shrugged. "I pulled it out of the Sorting Hat."
Ron's eyebrows went up.
"Fawkes brought it to me. I guess it came in handy."
Ron still looked puzzled, but let it go, as they came out of the tunnel at the chute up to the girl's bathroom. Gilderoy Lockhart was there, looking about with the seriousness of a man on many, many drugs and a Cheering Charm or two. That is, none at all.
"Odd place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"
Harry considered the cowardly man – Why was something inside him growling at that? – for a moment, then turned to Ron, the question clear on his face.
"His memory's completely gone," Ron said, gesturing dismissively at the blonde dandy. "Shot. That Memory Spell must have actually been pretty strong."
"Well, one thing's for sure," Harry cracked a smile. "That wand of yours definitely came in handy."
Ron laughed.
Ginny gazed up the dark, slimy tunnel. "How are we supposed to get back up? I don't think there's a good enough grip on the walls to climb up."
Harry tried to think, but was interrupted by Fawkes leaping off of his shoulder, and hovering in front of them. The phoenix waved his tail feathers at Harry, looking slightly impatient.
"I think he wants us to grab onto his tail." Harry gestured to Ron. "You grab Ginny. Professor Lockhart – "
"That's you." Ron supplied to the older man.
" – grab her hand. Ron, hold on to me."
"Harry, I really don't think that bird can – "
Then Harry grabbed Fawkes burning-hot feathers (which for some reason didn't hurt at all), and a strange feeling of lightness spread through his arm and into his entire body.
With a cry, the phoenix took off, pulling the human chain with him as if they weighed nothing at all. Up the dark tunnel they flew, Lockhart and both Weasleys laughing in delight. And then, it was over, and they tumbled onto the wet floor of Myrtle's bathroom.
The ghost pouted, floating cross-legged above one of the stalls. "You're still alive."
"No need to sound so disappointed," Ron grumped, shooting the ghost an exasperated glare.
She ignored him. "I was just thinking, Harry. If you died…you'd be welcome to share my toilet."
Her cheeks colored a dark silver.
Ron gawped for a moment, then, under his breath, whispered. "Harry, she fancies you!"
Harry glanced awkwardly at the ghost. "Erm…thanks, Myrtle."
She giggled as the quartet were led out of the room by Fawkes. "Bye Harry!"
"So now where do we go?" Ron wondered.
Harry gestured with the hand that held the sword at Fawkes, who was flapping down the corridor to the left.
"Follow him, I guess."
"Come on, you." Ron grabbed Lockhart, who was prodding at the nearest portrait and murmuring "Amazing! They can move inside the picture!", much to the portrait's displeasure.
The halls were quiet as they made their way up several flights, down a hallway, and up to a corridor near Gryffindor Tower. He stopped just outside the door, and squawked musically at Harry.
Harry recognized the door. It was Professor McGonagall's. He took a deep breath, and opened the door.
For a long moment, the occupants of the room stared at the odd quartet. Lockhart, covered in slime and gazing around like a child in a toy store, Ron, slimy and dust-covered, Harry, who, on top of the dust and slime, was soaked in blood, clutching a book and a sword, and Ginny, who, ironically, was practically spotless, apart from the tear tracks on her cheeks.
"GINNY!"
And then, faster than Harry could believe, Mrs. Weasley was on her feet and hugging her daughter. Mr. Weasley was not far behind, unashamedly shedding tears of relief.
Fawkes gave a happy cry, then soared over to sit on the mantel, just behind Dumbledore, who was beaming so brightly Harry swore the Headmaster was performing Lumos with his face, and Professor McGonagall, who had a hand over her heart, and looked to be having trouble breathing. Molly swept Harry into her hug as well, which was a bit uncomfortable, considering he was sharing it with Ron and Ginny.
"You saved her, Harry! You…" she almost dissolved into tears, but recovered. "How? How did you do it?"
"That, I think, is a story we all wish to hear, Molly." Dumbledore said calmly. With a wave of his wand, all the chairs in the room became plush, purple armchairs, with a few additions for the new arrivals. McGonagall's nostrils flared, but she said nothing, and sat down in one of the chairs, closely followed by everyone else.
Harry set the diary and the sword on the desk, and, taking another steadying breath, began his tale.
So, that's the first chapter! Yes, it's fairly short, but the next one should be out within the next two weeks. Keep in mind that I'll be balancing this story with Indomitable Spirit, which, as my first story, will hold priority in writing, and with school.
Sooooooo…what do you all think? I know it's basically just a variation on the actual Chamber of Secrets scenes, but believe me, the story will eventually have changes happening. So, leave a review (please?) and tell me what I did wrong, and what I did right, and what you think I could do better.
CracktheSkye, out!