Title: Harry Potter and the Kyuubi no Youko

Chapter: 2

Fandom: Harry Potter/Naruto, crossover

Summary: Lily Evans had a brother. But no one knew, not even James, not even after she took in her brother's son and pretended he was her son. So when Harry discovers some rather odd abilities not even wizards have, he's understandably confused.

Pairings: Undecided…

Rating: R, violence.

Genre: General, crossover.

Disclaimer: I own Raaf. Nothing else, aside from my ideas.

Notes: I LOVE YOU ALL. I had such a stressful day, and when I checked my email, I had so many alerts of favs, alerts, and reviews! And the reviews were lovely. For everyone, I am updating now.

Recommended Music: "Haircut," by the Waifs

oOo

Thud. Crack. Boom, boom, boom...

Harry ran to avoid the rubble the basilisk created by thumping its tail against the wall. Debris flew around him, occasionally scoring his back or his head. Somewhere behind Harry, Fawkes darted around attempting to distract the basilisk, but to no avail. The sword from the Sorting Hat gleamed off to the left, where it had clattered when Harry let go of it as the snake lunged at him.

This wasn't working. He had to get rid of the giant snake and stop Tom or else Ginny would die. But how could he do that if he could only run away? The situation seemed hopeless; soon he would be exhausted and promptly eaten, without a doubt.

Harry's sneakers squeaked in protest when Harry abruptly skidded to prevent crashing headfirst into a pillar. He turned and just as quickly threw his weight to the left so as to dodge the fanged mouth heading towards him. The floor was damp and cold entered Harry's pores like an infestation, but he rolled on the floor to leave the dangerous area near the King of Serpents.

Sneaking a glance to Ginny's still form, Harry felt a rise of panic when he saw how pale and ghostly she appeared. Tom Marvolo Riddle, the sixteen year old memory of Lord Voldemort, was surely sucking out her life to have as his own. She didn't have much time left, if any.

The basilisk struck blindly, mouth open wide, prepared to bite down the instant it hit flesh. There has to be something, anything, I can do.

The snake reared back its head, readying to lash once again. Harry poised himself to jump away, waiting for the telltale twitch of the facial muscles before he dodged, but as Harry moved the snake's movements were slow. Yes! Harry thought, it's tired! Now I can- Harry sprinted to the sword and pulled it up, ignoring Riddle's hissing at the snake to move already your prey is escaping!

The sword fit in Harry's hand just as naturally as a broomstick. The snake followed him and reared up to attack once again; as it came Harry saw it get closer and closer and he moved to the side, jutting out the sword. The blade caught against the side of the basilisk's mouth, tearing its jaw open. Harry tilted the sword up as it sliced through, cutting through the top of its head. Blood and gore spilled out onto Harry and the floor, but Harry quelled his nausea to ensure he finished it. He dragged his sword down and guaranteed the basilisk would never pose a threat to any student of Hogwarts.

Harry stood, uplifted and breathless from his victory. He stared at the mess the snake had become, and curiously, there was no more nausea. Harry felt odd, not sick or anything of the sort, but… detached. Before Harry could begin to wonder what that meant, the hairs on his neck rose and he spun, only to be stabbed in the arm by Tom Riddle.

Harry fell, dull fire moving through his veins, poison from the basilisk fang Riddle had plunged into his body. It was in this moment Harry knew he hadn't his glasses, yet could see clearly.

Riddle spoke words of how Harry was doomed to succumb to the poison; Harry was free to take as long as he wanted to die, Riddle said. "I have no where to be, after all."

Fawkes settled by Harry's wound. Riddle chuckled, "Look there, Potter, even the phoenix is crying for you." Harry could hear the smug smirk on his next words. "There is no hope for you, Potter."

Harry knew this. He wished it wouldn't be true, but he knew it was. But the pain was lessening; he was definitely dying.

Was he? Everything was becoming sharper again, colors more vivid. This can't be death, Harry thought, unless heaven looks like the Chamber of Secrets.

Maybe it's hell?

"What the-? What is this?"

Harry craned his neck, and saw Fawkes sitting next to a bloodied fang. His arm was bloody but unblemished skin was apparent beneath the torn robes.

"Phoenix tears have healing powers... I forgot..." Riddle muttered to himself. He regained his composure and straightened. "No matter. You will still die here." Drawing Harry's wand, he prepared an incantation, or would have if Fawkes hadn't dropped the diary into Harry's lap.

Both Harry and Riddle stared at the plain, black book, innocently laying there, belying the spirit of Voldemort's past, eager to possess any unfortunate fool to come across it.

Besides Harry, the fang shone with its bleached white color, the red of the blood only enhancing the contrast between it and the chamber.

Harry grabbed the fang and pushed it through the diary faster than a thought could cross his mind.

Riddle let out an unholy scream, fading as Harry watched, the scene far too clear and detailed for his eyes. Had Harry been fully functioning and had not just been nearly fatally poisoned, this would have been disconcerting. For the moment, Harry gazed wide-eyed as Riddle flickered and vanished.

The dying screams echoed eerily throughout the chamber even after Riddle had vanished. Harry still sat, fixedly staring at the now ink covered and bloodied fang in his hands, enraptured by the detail he saw. Never had the colors been so vivid, nor the slick liquids have so many twists and shades, or a fang -never the fang of a basilisk, but of fangs in general- have so small bends and shadows to it.

A murmur occurred as Ginny stirred, and just like that, the details were gone. But Harry could still see just fine.

Odd that. Normally everything was fuzzy, as if a constant haze was in his eyes. But he scooted himself over to where Ginny was beginning to rise. Harry had to make sure she was all right. After assuring Ginny that he was fine, both the basilisk and Riddle were really dead, no, she wouldn't be expelled, he convinced her to go to McGonagall with him. Harry placed the sword in his belt with the hat, and Fawkes flew ahead.

On the way out, Harry picked up his broken glasses. Thick rimmed and round, shards of glass fell out even as he lifted them. They were useless, even if he needed them to see. But would this new, perfect vision last? What had even happened? Maybe it was a rush of magic, or something extremely intelligent sounding when it came from Hermione's mouth?

Harry dropped the glasses. He didn't need them. He could get new ones later. Harry smiled faintly at Ginny, and they left the chamber together.

The basilisk fang was clutched tightly in Harry's hand.

oOo

"Harry, my boy..."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?"

"If I may ask, whatever happened to your glasses?"

"Oh... they broke down in the chamber."

"But don't you need them?"

"That's... er... Professor, I wanted to ask you about that..."

"Go on, Harry, no one will overhear us."

"When I was running from the basilisk, my eyes saw everything perfectly. Better than if I wore my glasses, sir."

"How long did this continue?"

"Until I went over to Ginny. Then my vision was pretty normal, but I didn't need my glasses."

"Hmm... this is odd."

"Sir... what... do you know what happened? Did I do some magic that fixed my eyes?"

"I did not believe it possible to heal the eyes from any wound. Eyes are far too delicate, and the wizarding world has not achieved the detailed control such a procedure would require. But perhaps, with your remarkable ability to achieve great accomplishments, you managed to heal your eyes when the need was great."

"Really?"

"I would not say it was impossible. Magic is a wild force. It is simply our bodies that measure control of it. With no medium, magic would randomly create, destroy and manipulate."

"But... how? How would it, er, do those things on its own? Doesn't it need someone to direct it?"

"Ah, while it has never been proven, I believe it does not. It's not a popular theory. Most wizards prefer to think they are in absolute control of their talents, when this is not the case. Everyone knows of accidental magic. According to theory, magic acts on emotions."

"But, if it acted on emotions, wouldn't it have to be able to feel?"

"As the theory goes, yes, it would have the capacity to feel and think for itself."

"So it's alive?"

"A question no one has been able to answer. Perhaps one day... I will assure you I will do research on how your eyes healed. It's a very odd occurrence, even if one believes the Raaf Theory."

"What?"

"Raaf Theory, my dear boy. Raaf was the man who theorized magic was a sentient being which could act on its own if it had no medium."

"Er... and what's a medium?"

"Ah, it's times like these I regret never instigating those muggle classes in the Hogwarts' curriculum. Medium is a material which a wave, or, in wizards' definition, magic, can travel through."

"Oh."

"Indeed... ah, hello, Lucius. How are you this fine day?"

oOo

End Chapter

Note: I love reviews, and consider any and all comments made in them. Any questions, or comments you have I'd love to hear.

By the way, I like to switch into all-dialogue conversations. They'll appear often in this fic. But I never have more than two people speaking, and I try to make them say each other's names often.