A/N: Am I going to curse this time? No. I just wanted to point out the fact that I was able to write a 4,000-ish word chapter in three days without any proper planning beforehand, just a few stray thoughts. I'm rather proud of myself. Let's see if my efforts have been able to create a rather decent chapter. Side note: I'm exploring different parts of the characters, adding stuff and emphasizing the visions.

Harry brushed off the dust on his clothes and stretched his feet, finding an irate blonde witch glaring at him, obviously wanting to murder him in cold blood.

"Daphne?" he asked, rather unnerved by the snake-like gaze she had directed towards him.

"Fuck you, Potter," Daphne said, walking over and punching him in the arm. Apparently, she was mad that she had been pushed down the tube. Who knew?

"Such language is unbefitting for a young girl," Harry said, mocking Professor McGonagall. He immediately burst out in laughter, causing Daphne to do the same, breaking her stare.

"You still owe me," she stated after she had gained a semblance of control, her tone softening.

Harry nodded. "Sure. Just don't ask about what happened earlier. Please."

Daphne acknowledged the statement, saying that she understood and then asked, "What is this place?"

All around her were shelves upon shelves of books. "A library?" she asked.

"Well, where else would you find books like this?" Harry asked. "One of the many Chambers down here. You know, I've been trying to count the number of rooms this entire network or tunnels have and there are too many to count."

Daphne walked over to one of the nearest books, picking one up with the title, Curses for Beginners, but she wouldn't know that considering the fact that it was written in Parseltongue. She ran her finger along its spine and opened the book, seeing numerous nonsensical lines that supposedly formed lines.

"Harry?" she asked, motioning for him to come over. "What does this say?"

"Wait a second," Harry said, pulling out his wand. "One of the manuals I found somewhere over there," he waved his wand in a general direction, "said that it's possible for a Parseltongue to use magic to translate most of the books in this library, with a few exceptions. Apparently, it was something that Salazar Slytherin—"

"Salazar Slytherin?" Daphne asked in awe.

"Yes, Daphne, Salazar Slytherin. The person who helped create Hogwarts. I thought you knew who he was," Harry said, adopting a rather confused look and a tone that suggested that he was talking to a small child.

"Shut up."

"But then I can't explain stuff," Harry whined.

'You know what I mean."

"Well, it was something that Salazar Slytherin, one of the Four Founders, developed. As a result, it seems as if the spells in the books have the ability to be translated into the language that we call Latin though from the harmless spells that I've used, they seemed to be underpowered."

"Underpowered?" Daphne said, curiosity sparkling behind her eyes.

"Yes, underpowered. For example, the spell that I used on the troll, the Organ Liquifying Curse, is less potent and is not as dangerous when spoken in Latin instead of Parseltongue. It's still fatal, mind you, though it requires more power to achieve the same effect when spoken in a language other than Parseltongue. As for the more harmless fields of magic, things like sticking charms are stronger when spoken in Parseltongue and is combined with intent," Harry explained as he tapped the book that Daphne was holding with his wand. He spoke a phrase in the language of the snakes and the strange lines suddenly melted into words that she could decipher.

Taking a glance, she was opened to a 'beginner' curse, one that could harm but not fatally. "Is there a possible way for me to translate these pages?"

Harry thought for a moment and cast a quick Point-Me spell, motioned for Daphne to stay put and followed the direction that his wand directed him. He came back a minute or two with a small scrap of paper in hand. "Well," he said, looking up and down the paper, "it seems there is. Just say, Aaslin while touching the book with your wand."

"Aaslin?" Daphne questioned. "That doesn't seem like Latin."

"Well, who knows. Just try it."

Daphne spoke the spell, following the instructions, and she saw the words immediately shift into Parseltongue.

Harry suddenly said, "To turn it into English, say Anigles."

She did the same thing, knowing to touch the book, and she saw the lines turn into English. She then tucked it into her arm, a thought striking her. "Is it possible for a person to learn Parseltongue?"

"if any of the books say that, then I haven't come across it," Harry admitted, seeing the possibilities that learning the language could open, mentally promising himself to see if there were any books. "Perhaps…"

"Can I take any books?" Daphne asked, loving books, though not to the extent that Harry and Hermione showed.

"Definitely," Harry said, "It's not as if these books are mine. Technically, it's Hogwarts'."

Daphne walked around and picked a few books from the shelves, accepting the bag that Harry procured from his satchel which caused her to raise her eyebrow. "And why in Merlin's name do you carry a bag within your bag?"

"Well, maybe I need things. Anyways, there's an Enlargement Charm in here, so all that I have to do is just will it to come up and it does," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"Just hope that no one hits it with a Finite Incantatem," Daphne simply replied, causing Harry to suddenly worry about that possibility. It simply wouldn't do to have all of his things spill out of his bag, despite the fact that there wasn't much stuff in there. Any potions he might be carrying would spill out and their vials would break.

"Let's go back," Harry said, causing Daphne to send him a questioning look. "Unless, you want to go see the other places."

"Well, I certainly do," Daphne said, slinging the bag around her shoulders. "Where to?"

"I guess, the private studies," Harry said after thinking for a moment and motioned for her to follow him.

Crawling through the weaving maze of halls and rooms, Harry somehow managed to guide Daphne along and maintain that sense of awe. Often times, she would be on the receiving end of a sarcastic comment and retorted in the only way she knew how, immediately shutting Harry up. Other than the often-unnerving atmosphere that some of the rooms had like the eerily silent dining room, which was rather small, and the many rooms filled with paintings, there was still that childish excitement that Daphne showed. Obviously curious at the things that Harry was showing, she seemed to be coming out of character, rather carefree and simply inquisitive. Oddly, she seemed to want to know everything about this place, surprising Harry. He thought that she'd dismiss it as being one of the many secrets, but perhaps this was a side of her that showed before her father's absolutely ludicrous mistake. What the hell could he do in order to help Daphne out? Bring her under his House protection? Life-debt? No, only in the most extreme situations, where her life truly mattered. She couldn't be put at risk for something so insignificant as a marriage contract because it was a life versus a piece of parchment that forced her to marry. The former was more important.

Harry could feel the onslaught of one of his dreams. His mind began to hurt, his scar throbbed. His vision suddenly turned hazy and he could feel something coursing in his body. He suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway, for they were heading towards the main chamber, and hurriedly grabbed a potion that Snape had given him. He had only four left. He immediately turned to a bewildered Daphne and said, "Plug your ears just in case."

Daphne did just that right before he downed the potion, seeing his grimace at the disgusting potion that he had just swallowed. Suddenly, as if being tortured by an invisible assailant, he fell on the ground and convulsed, but he didn't scream. She immediately crouched beside him and tried to mutter words of comfort, yet failed as her eyes haunted as if she were seeing a ghost once again. She could see Astoria's body again, causing tears to stream down her face.

Unbeknownst to her, Harry could see himself slowly walking towards the Statue of Slytherin, uttering the words in Parseltongue, §Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.§

Suddenly the Statue seemed to melt into to the ground, leaving a massive snake with mesmerizingly glowing eyes standing among various skeletons that had obviously belonged to various small, miniscule animals that had managed to make their way into the Chambers. It stood there, belittling Harry, towering over everything in sight. It was rather hard to accurately measure the lizard, but Harry guessed about 50 to 60 feet. How the hell Voldemort managed to tame the thing, Harry didn't know nor did he want to figure out. But he'd have to check it out.

§Master,§ it hissed intimidatingly, §Who shall be the next victim?§

The snake slowly swayed its body side to side, providing an oddly satisfying experience. Harry could feel Death on this creature, the evil that festered in its mind.

Harry then felt himself respond, §Perhaps the small girl who often cries in the bathroom upstairs. The disgusting mudblood has defied my friends too many times. §

§We shall remove these vermin from the castle.§

§Yes, King of Serpents, we certainly will.§

The dream ended with Harry hearing a scream, people shout in fear, and a sense of pure satisfaction; a smile forming across Harry's cruel lips.

The vision ended and Harry's convulsions stopped. He slowly opened his eyes only to see Daphne's tear stained face. He immediately got up, helping Daphne do the same and embraced her, softly shushing her and emitting soft calming noises.

"It's okay," he said, over and over, not realizing what had just happened. She was also having her own visions, just those of pain and suffering. Visions that uncovered memories that should have been long buried.

Slowly, so very slowly, her sobs stopped and they separated. Daphne said, "It seems that we are both crybabies."

Harry smiled softly. "It seems we are."

"What the hell happened to you this time?" She asked, her eyes still speaking of pain and long suffering.

"A vision that was nothing of importantance and that I definitely am not a Seer. I just see things in the past."

"The past?" she uncertainly asked, obviously wondering what to do with this information.

"Yeah. Just forget about it."

She simply nodded. "Are you okay?"

Harry smiled sweetly. A bit too sweetly. "Nothing I can't handle. Let's get back to them."

They then made their way into the main chamber, Daphne looking in curiosity and awe at the massive statue that stood erect in the center of the room. The room was built entirely out of stone with impressive arches and an elaborate dome at the top. It seemed breathtaking, something that Harry never got used to, especially when he was running from that massive lizard in the statue. Harry hissed for the exit and they made their way up, ending up in the girl's bathroom.

"Why are we in the girl's bathroom?" Daphne asked, looking around and noticing a small, ghostly head peeking out from behind a stall.

"Who knows," was all that Harry said.

Weaving in between the crowds, they were able to make their way to the first floor. Here, they left, Daphne knowing that Harry had to do something and Harry thinking of the things that he had seen. He could feel the sadistic pleasure of the things that Voldemort did. He loved the power that the Dark wizard held over their lives, their peace and pain. He could certainly get used to that…

'Snap out of it,' Harry thought to himself. 'This isn't you talking.'

Using the Point-Me spell again, he was able to find himself at the very front of the Headmaster's office. At the supposed entrance, there was a rather intimidating Gargoyle. Thankfully, they were an extinct species, creatures that died out as their homes were destroyed due to human growth. They killed and mutilated thousands, if not millions, matching the goblins for their ferocity and blood thirst

Looking around, he didn't find any latch nor switch. There seemed to be a password.

"Now how in the world am I going to talk to the Headmaster?" Harry asked, and as if one cue, the Gargoyle moved aside as a staircase swirled into existence.

Harry then heard the Headmaster's old, gruff voice say, "Come in, Harry. I believe that I need your assistance."

My assistance? Harry mentally asked, there seemed to be no particular reason for such a thing. After all, he considered the most powerful wizard of the modern ages. What could a mere eleven-year-old do for him.

Harry quickly climbed the stairs, taking two at a time, his nerves on end. He didn't necessarily trust the wizard after the fact that he had left the Mirror of Erised out in the open. But, after all, the senile Wizard had only treated him with kindness and understanding. He did deserve a detention for that particular incident.

Opening the door at the very top of the steps, Harry took in the sight. There sat the wizened Wizard on a mahogany desk filled to the brim with stacks of papers and baubles of all sorts that clinked and plinked, beeped and buzzed. On the opposite side of the desk were shelves arranged in semi-circles proudly boasting the numerous books that it could hold while there were more of those odd devices.

Off to the Wizard's side was a Phoenix on his perch, looking rather aged from the charts that Harry had seen. Perhaps today was its Burning Day. But that would take a rather massive amount of luck on Harry's part. Behind Dumbledore was an elevated platform where there were all sorts of things, things that ranged from scrolls to charts and diagrams to various artifacts. Harry could feel the magic that saturated the room and shivered at the warm feeling that was a direct result of that saturation.

The charms and wards in place were rather mild, focusing on calming the people within the room. Harry would have done the same thing if he were Headmaster. It would make dealing with irate students and/or staff easier. Though, its effects weren't enough to subdue any emotion, just strong enough to promote happiness. In that sense, it was rather like an automatic Calming Draught.

"Harry, my boy, sit down. I have something I need to discuss with you." Dumbledore's tone was grave. As Harry complied, the Headmaster said, "I've heard of the incident two nights ago, and I, concerned for your health, want to know if I could do anything for you. After all, it's the least that I could do for your troubles."

"No, Headmaster," Harry said, "there's nothing that I want you to do for me. I'm perfectly fine."

"Respectfully, I doubt that, Harry, child. I've seen, firsthand, the effects that the Cruciatus has on wizards and witches far older than you. Excuse my repetition of the phrase. I understand that you believe that you are perfectly fine. But, seeing as my job as Headmaster requires that I take care of you, I urge you to tell me of anything that has come up, whether large or small, to help me make school easier for you."

"There's nothing, sir," Harry said.

"Nothing other than the dreams?" The Headmaster said, obviously cautious with the way that he revealed his knowledge of the things that Harry has been experiencing. "I am rather sorry for this breach in your privacy, but Professor Snape had told me, especially with the fact that you were in immense pain, that you had been having dreams. Would you care to talk about it?"

Sighing and seeing no way out of this, also knowing that he had wanted to tell the Headmaster about this (albeit not in this way), Harry then said, "I've keep seeing the things that Voldemort had done. I see all that he sees, I feel everything that he does, and feel all that he does."

"Oh dear," was all that the Headmaster said, understanding the surface implications of that statement. Drawing a long, rattle sigh at the things that he seemed to remember, the Headmaster then said, "Have you discovered anything new perhaps, the ability to speak to snakes?"

"Yes," Harry drawled, not wanting to know how the hell the Headmaster knew or suspected his ability

"It's just as I thought," Dumbledore muttered. "Long ago, I was the Transfiguration teacher at this school, when the Headmaster was Armando Dippet, a rather fine albeit headstrong wizard, I had heard a student, Tom Riddle speaking in snakes. Now, mind you, I happened upon him by chance, but I saw him talking to a garden snake. I was the man responsible for bringing him to this school as ever since the snake, I watched him. I observed his constant use of wandless magic at a young age and I, around fifty years ago, took him to Hogwarts. I mustn't get too much into his history, but he eventually became Voldemort.

"Now, you must be wondering how this is all related. Getting to the point, Harry, ever since the incident with your parents, I've been trying to understand what truly happened. With the residue of the Killing Curse in your home in Godric's Hollow, I devoted years of research to understand how you survived with the intent of recreating the entire thing to save lives. But so far, the only things that I've been able to find were very obscure notes that your mother had left here and there. Now, you're free to take them if you like, but I'm afraid that they offer nothing other than a few Arithmantic equations and things on Astronomy. I can give them to you in about a day or so," Dumbledore offered rather empathetically, his tone warming.

Harry nodded, obviously asking for the notes. He needed something from his mother, anything. Hopefully, there were notes left over at the site. He could definitely visit the place once again, and perhaps he would someday soon, just as long as he had left the Dursleys. Now what was he going with this?

"From what I can discern, there needed to be a sacrifice, a costly sacrifice for you to be properly protected from the Killing Curse. There were strange symbols at the sight of the incident, Harry, but it seemed like a few nonsensical things. I was also able to discover that there needed to be a strong element of emotion, in this case love, and, perhaps, anguish. But as a direct result of that protection, there seemed to be some…residue. The scar on your head," Harry reached to touch the jagged and crude scar grotesquely cut into his head, "seems to have some form of connection with Voldemort. Now at this point, it seems as if some of his powers have been passed onto you, and in the same manner, his dreams and experiences."

Harry had a connection with Voldemort? Fuck.

"Now, considering the fact that you continue to have these dreams, then perhaps he is still, to everyone's horror, still alive. Perhaps as a spirit or ghost, but he still is probably alive and kicking. Keep in mind that this is a likely proposition. I promise you, Harry," the Headmaster's voice hardened with promise, speaking of pain, "that if he still is alive, then I will do everything in my power to protect you."

Harry was unsure what to feel right now. What the hell was he supposed to do anyways? This wasn't something that was a normal day occurrence. No one comes up to a person and says, 'Hi. You have a connection with one of the Darkest Wizards in recent memory and he is probably alive. Good luck!' and leaves. This was absolutely ludicrous, especially considering the fact that Harry had done nothing to Voldemort. Though why didn't the Headmaster take him under his wings?

"My boy," the Headmaster started, causing Harry to flinch violently. He couldn't shake off the name, 'Boy,' from his relatives. It was odd that this was the moment that he had reacted…odd. "Harry, I'm rather sorry for burdening you with this information. I've also heard from Professor Flitwick that you are seeking to improve yourself in dueling, something that, if you wish, I could help with. I hope, for your sake, that I'm wrong about all of this and this is just Magic intervening with Fate."

Harry mutely nodded, his face going blank. He had things to do, things to work on. He couldn't throw his friends into this. They simply can't know about this. "Thank you, Headmaster, for telling me this. I'll think about your offers."

"Harry, are you okay?" Dumbledore was concerns with the sudden change in the child's demeanor.

"I-I just have to process everything," was all that Harry said. "Excuse me."

He stood and rose, pushing his chair in and left the headmaster in the office with a painful heart. Dumbledore then asked Fawkes, "Do you think, old friend, that I should have waited until the next year?"

The Phoenix trilled softly and sadly, the sound not lifting Dumbledore's mood in the slightest.

Harry, on the other hand, walked down the halls aimlessly. It wasn't a death sentence, simply some form of speculation. But he couldn't help but think that the Headmaster was right. It felt right. He just hoped his gut was wrong. He headed back to the Owlery, aiming to send a message, but was interrupted when Hedwig came flying down the halls. Ignoring the surprised outbursts of the other students, Harry caught the note that his familiar dropped and broke the Gringotts seal. It was a surprisingly short message.

Mr. Potter,

Following your request, the goblins at Gringotts have been able to find a lineage that is magically related to you. The Flamels. If you wish for further information, contact our Customer Service, though you are free to owl them if you wish.

Gringotts

There was an attached note, written in very elaborate cursive. Somehow managing to read it, Harry's eyes widened.

Mr. Potter,

Upon the discovery that your mother, Lily Potter nee Evans, is what wizards consider 'pureblood,' I have been searching through our records. Apparently, the Evan family is somehow related to the Le Fay line. A woman by the name of Igraine Le Fay nearly 25 generations ago married to a man named Saul Evans (I'm rather sorry for the lack of information in all of this considering the fact that this was upon a short notice, though, if you wish, I can continue to look further). They were able to have a child and many generations later, after a series of Squibs, Lily Evans, your mother, was born. Considering the fact that you are the only magical living being of the Le Fay line, then you have the ability to enter the Le Fay vaults, albeit the things that you can take are restricted to a certain and rather mild point. Due to your age, then you only have the ability to take everything except gold which means that you have the ability to take wands, armour, and books from your vaults. You aren't restricted to with what you can do with them.

Griphook.

That was good to know. He'd definitely pay another visit to Gringotts before the day ended to see what was in the vaults. But Harry's face remained stony faced as he walked down the hall, effectively parting the waters of students with his barely constrained magic. Emotion was a rather effective amplifier of magic.

A/N: Do you think that I should have allowed Dumbeldore to tell Harry of those things? From my viewpoint, it seems like a rather idiotic move on the Headmaster's part, leading to tings such as the destruction of his office somewhere (I've only read the Chamber of Secrets, don't blame me). Burdening an eleven year old with the information that there is a possibly homicidal and sadistic killer after him is not necesarily wise, but it does provide the aforementioned child with a semblance of understanding as to the reason why there seems to be a Dark Wizard attacking him constantly. Not one of my best moves, but I'm putting out there because obviously, Harry is mature and from the previous chapter, Dumbledore knows it too.

The visions, the visions, the visions. Oh, they are becoming monumental, a fundamental part of this story. I'm using them to explore the more sadistic side of Harry that has sparked from his past, though how is still to be determined. I hope that I'm not going overboard with them, I just really want to torture people without the entire thing burdening the conscience of Harry.

Daphne has obviously loosened up around Harry. They're more similar than they seem to think. Think about that.

For those interested, I was born in the Philippines and my parents speak Tagalog. For those who do speak it, try to read the spells again.

Hopefully this chapter, as always, is entertaining enough.

Is this story dark? If not, then is there any possible way for me to make it Dark, because I really don't want to make things sunshine and rainbows for the characters and readers, despite the seemingly light tone of these things. Or might as well provide suggestions to improve my overall writing, if you want. I've been trying to analyze 'Dark' stories, but have been unable to nail the tone.

Review Please

Shameless begging out of the way, here are answers.

Smutley-Do-Wrong: Ha! But yes, that makes sense, the last three-fourths of your review, I mean. As for the first half, Harry is more...human because of the abuse, neglect, etc. He doesn't want to outright retaliate nor be too hostile. Though, in some instances, he really acts like a Gryffindor. Respectfully I ask, what do you mean by 'seeking?'

MikeBM25: Thanks.

gabrieljuarezl: Well, here I am again. School's nearly over. That means more chapters. But just don't expect me to be fully commited to this schedule with my upcoming tests. Side note: My school ends on the 2nd of June.

kamui5: Thanks. I really hope that he does too.

Vi38: Thankses. Me really worked very hard on chapter. (I should stop at this point).

Gime'SS: No problem.

Now, I have to get back to researching King Arthur legends by reading an 800 paged book, The Mists of Avalon. I also have to get back to fantasize about drinking my own blood and reading very, very descriptve and grusome scenes where people are being dissected alive.

Cheers

HHS