I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.

'Ugh, what the hell kind of tunnel is this!?' His slide down the pipe had been unpleasant, to say the least. Harry had been covered in slime and grime when he'd come out, only to land in a floor of animal bones. They littered the stone, so not even an inch was visible. He had even noticed some had still-rotting meat hanging off, which had been a nasty surprise when his arse was sticky with cold blood.

Waving his wand with a quick swipe, the dirt and dust was cleaned, but he still felt a bit dirty. Chalking it up to the overall atmosphere of the dank tunnel, he moved on, vanishing a path forwards. He looked around, with very little of note, though small inscriptions were driven into the wall. Deciding to check it out later, he moved on, noticing the deeper he got, the more light started appearing. The source of it came into focus as torches were encased in their sconces along the wall, leading to a large doorway.

The Ravenclaw nearly jumped out of his skin as a large coil of scales, like green pebbles running along a path, appeared in front of him, and he delicately reached a hand out, closing his eyes just in case. When he failed to feel the tell-tale hum of magic that came from such magical creatures, he opened his eyes, noticing it was just shed skin. Cutting off some, which required a bit of power as despite being cut off from the core center that caused the magic-resilience, it still held some strong piece that might take thousands of years to dissipate, he pocketed it and moved towards the large door.

It much resembled that which you would see on a vault, with a large round shape but instead of the wheel handle, it had snakes that seemed to grow from the hinge like parasites, sealing it. They almost seemed alive, eyes following him as he moved. The stone was near-black, with a light simmer of emerald when he shined his wand closely. The snakes had red gems for eyes, and he shivered when they shined in his light, faintly resembling eyes as light circular carvings made out the iris and pupil.

Remembering the original doorway, he hissed ~Open~. Stepping back, he coughed as a cloud of dust blew in, and he stepped forward once it finished. It was a grand chamber, as the name suggested, with waterfalls pouring in from holes, grand stone snakes in between each one, eyes the same glittering red jewels as those on the door, and torches above each waterfall. The floor was made up on black bricks, and the ceiling resembled that of a cave, but clearly was kept cleared as while it stayed the same circular shape, there were no stalactites. Everything eventually came to focus on the far side, where everything was made of the same dark bricks as the floor, with the exception of the light gray of the face, which resembled those of the pictures he'd seen of the founder.

Walking inward, he noticed Ginny on the far side, walking over and glancing around. Keeping hold of his wand, he spotted any exits. While the underground chamber looked secure, he noticed several possible ways. A small snake insignia that did not match the other side suggested an exit on a wall the path led to, with a last hope of blasting open one of the potholes with as much magic as he could and swimming up. Turning to the girl next to him, he looked her over.

She was grasping the Diary from McGonagall's office, red hair making a curtain that was soaked, as the crashing waves that made a treacherous crossing to Slytherin's head, the only way seemed to be a stone drawbridge, spared upon both of them. She was shivering from cold, but there were no other signs of life save for the faint heaving of her chest. Everything else suggested she was dead, and the pale skin did not help.

'She won't wake.' A voice came from behind him, and he turned to see a boy, mid-teens, with Ginny's wand in hand. His hair was a perfect deep brown, handsome brown eyes looking from under the fringe, a strong jaw and high cheekbones very similar to Harry's own, a thin but strong figure with fair skin.

'Who are you!?' Harry spat out, fists clenched that he'd dare hurt Ronald's sister, an eleven year old girl.

'I'm Tom Riddle.' His fists clenched at that, but released as he continued. 'And I didn't do this to her. She did it herself when the girl decided to pour her heart out to me. Oh yes, I'm nice, comforting Tom, there to help whenever she was feeling sad, slowly leeching off the energy she gave. Ginevra Weasley told me all about you, and her life. From her nervousness seeing William go off on the Express, to her overbearing and disgusting mother, even you.' The boy paused here, clearly searching for his next words,

'Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who conquered the Dark Lord, and her hero.' If there was ever a chance of Harry dating Ginevra, they died with those words. Fan girls were disgusting, even if she was Roanld's sister, and none were worthy of dating. But he resolved to find her a new man.

'I want to know, how did you defeat Voldemort that night, how did you stop him?' His eyes almost seemed hungry, as he just about begged for the information, palming the wand in hand. 'He was supposed to be all-powerful, yet fell to a young boy. How did you stop him!?'

'I did not. I do not remember that night, so I've no idea what happened, or who accomplished anything. All I know is that I was a baby. And why do you talk about Voldemort like you know him?' Harry said, going out of breath by the end.

'Voldemort is my past, present and future, forever. Because, I am Lord Voldemort.' He used his wands to spell his name in fire, which the Ravenclaw snorted at, and flipped them around, the form the anagram I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. He no longer had a smile on his face.

'But… How? How di-' He was cut off, as suddenly Riddle spoke, clearly and deeply, with true passion.

'It does not matter how Harry, all that matters is that it's done. Imagine what we could do, you, me and Trip! We could be Gods, far above those the petty Muggles worship! We'd be waiting on hand and foot, wealth beyond our wildest dreams! I know what you want, for I wish for it to- a family. And we can have it, brothers! A pact that makes us share everything. Truly, all we want! Please, I do not beg, but for this once, join me, we can change the world and make it better!' Harry considered it. What had the Wizarding world truly done? Just step back and watch the Muggles live on and fall extinct. With Riddle's help, perhaps they could end the Muggles one and for all, change the entire Wizarding World for the better. He could convince Tom to be better. I… I…

'Coul-Could we save the girl? F-find some other way to bring you back? And… we have to stop the evil. We need to kill the old you once and for all, and you need to get hold of your destructive tendencies. Can- Can you do that, for me?' He was nervous, now was the save-all or end-all, it would decide the future of his life. And the boy seemed pensive.

'If we could become something more, true brothers like the camaraderie I've seen on the telie, I'm willing to give it a try. But obviously I can't go as Tom RIddle, so who am I?' The decision had taken a moment, but Harry sighed in relief. With that single breath, an unbreakable bond was formed, as Tom recognized it was one of hope and happiness, that he'd turn out good, and they could change the world together.

'We need something unique. Something that stands out in the crowd. You can take on your inherent titles when we visit Gringotts, see it as a sign of trust and a test. They will, with any hope, tell us whether you can be good again. Because you will. I shall make sure of it. Even if I must lay down my life.' Tom smiled, but it still wasn't an answer. 'Your name will be Skywalker. I saw it on the telly once, and it will be rare. It will stand out, and bring hope to others. Just as mine does. We'll be brothers, and once Trip joins us, unstoppable. The Light, the Gray, and the Dark, united together. Family.' Harry smirked.

'My first name will be the same. Like yours, it can be quite common, but that will make people see me as more of an Icon. Someone average to look up to. My name will be Tom Skywalker.' They both chuckled, until they noticed Ginevra slowly dying.

'Quick, how do we save you both!?' The panic held in his voice, for his new brother and friend's sister was commendable, but in the end pointless.

'You must defeat the Basilisk in my name, and I mean MY name, the new one. Hopefully, it will rid me of the diary, which will be cleansed, a sacrifice of an ancient magical creature to the Lord of Magic. I shall have a new mortal body, and we can truly stay. Perhaps it will even make me younger.' Tom shrugged, deciding it would take some time to get used to Tom Skywalker in his head. 'You don't have to do this, I'm sure we can find another way.'

'No, let's get it over with. Call the Basilisk forward, and I'll be ready.'

~Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four~ Ok, the man definitely had an ego. Harry heard a slithering as the large creature came, and raised his wand. Quickly, he stepped back, nearly falling off the edge as he began casting.

'Confringo, Impedimenta, Reducto!' Each one bounced harmlessly off the creature's hide as it began smashing about, looking for the perpetrator. Eyes locked on him, they began clashing, the Ravenclaw raising a shield to block the serpent's bites as it came down, the Basilisk raising it's head to take the hits.

His breathing became heavier, as he started losing breath. Dodging the tail whip as he felt the air passing overhead, he used his strongest curse, bombarda, and channeled his magic and rage at the creature who threatened to take away the boy who would be his brother, and let loose.

Plssht!

His face was splattered with blood and guts, as he suddenly heard the call of a bird. He looked towards the call and noticed Fawkes, who carried the sorting hat and a note. He grasped each as the Phoenix fought off the Basilisk, and he idly noted Hedwig had joined the fray. He wasn't worried about them, they could easily flame away, for now all they were doing was buying time. Opening the note, it read:

Harry,

I am desperately sorry I could not join you, but I and the other professors are unaware if when we land we might look right into the beast's eyes and simply die. A weak reason, I understand, but it is a risk we simply cannot take, for all it would do is leave the school and yourself to the whims of monsters and the creature. Take the sorting hat, and claim your Destiny.

Dumbledore & Severus

Throwing away the note, he took the sorting hat, it's frayed and dusty brim gross to the touch. But when he felt it become heavy and a distinct clang! And metal hit the floor, he became curious. Looking down, he was surprised by what he saw. It was a literal sword.

The ruby-encrusted handle was a perfect fit as polished silver glinted in the torchlight, and he raised the broadsword, red against silver creating a beautiful clash of colours. A scabbard had also fallen, and he attached it to his belt, noting the call of the Phoenix as they flew away, even possibly spotting a wink from Fawkes. Hoping against hope it meant what he thought, he turned around to see the snake's eyes were scratched out, the tail nothing more than a stump as Tom grinned at him, thumbs raised.

'IN THE NAME OF TOM SKYWALKER!' Feeling a but cheesy and stupid, he jumped onto one of the nearby stone snakes, he knew he only had one shot. Leaping forward, he planted the sword in the creature's mouth, into the brain as he felt a piercing pain reach him. His grip fell as he began tipping, falling backwards into one of the waterfalls, eyes beginning to close. His consciousness began to wane as the last thing he heard was the faint call of his name from Tom, he drifted off.

When he awoke, it was to the distinct odour of the Chamber, and he idly wondered if Heaven, or perhaps Hell, smelled like this. If so, why did it all feel so real? The cold of the stone against his back, the heat of his feverish body. Wait… Did dead people get sick? Was that even possible? I suppose if it was necessary…

He opened his eyes to Tom Riddle's distinct form, and he smirked up. He looked towards his left arm, where the pain had come from. Embedded in his bicep was a deep cut, which had clearly held a Basilisk fang, and he nonchalantly noted Hedwig and Fawkes some feet away. Harry almost thought he could see slight traces of white slithering across the skin in several jagged edges, which made him feel slightly nauseous, but considering it didn't hurt he supposed it was harmless. Or a numbing charm.

'Wha-What happened?' Harry felt incredibly tired, and he wanted answers before going to sleep.

'You defeated the Basilisk, but got a fang lodged in your arm. I swam down and retrieved you, but you were dying. I called for your Phoenix, and both came, crying into your wound after I got rid of the piece. They saved you. And you saved me. Now I'm no longer attached to that book, am my own man, and am somehow twelve, going to be thirteen by the end of the summer.' Harry smirked, as he finally succumbed to the fatigue.

Tom called for the Phoenix to take the two students back up, as he looked down on the diary which no longer held his soul, reborn and whole again. The Old Voldemort would fall, and the three would rise from the ashes. But the leftovers of Old Voldemort needed to be destroyed, as he retrieved the fang that Harry had gotten, and destroyed the book, which oozed black goo. Smiling, he thought about his new brother, and the one who would soon be a brother. They'd change the world.

Quickly using a bit of wandless magic, of which he'd only learned two spells, he banished the book back to Harry and the wand to Ginevra, and sat there thinking about his future.

For Tom Riddle, had become Tom Skywalker, joining Hadrian Poterimus's side in the upcoming war, never to stray from his position forevermore.

—-

Harry groaned as he sat in Dumbledore's room, clearly noting that this was one of the professor's bad moods. They happened every once in a while, and it was becoming more obvious that they were common towards the end of the year. By his side was the sword he'd gotten from the hat, and his wand was holstered on his right arm. After seeing Madam Pomfrey, she finally let him go once the Headmaster appeared, after diagnosing his arm and the prognosis was he'd be fine, though she still wanted him to rest.

But the old man would have none of that, as he hurried Harry along to his office. There he'd decided to give him a lecture, before finally smiling, awarding Gryffindor meaningless points, and requesting the sword back. But of course he had no desire to do that. Considering it was supposed to be Gryffindor's, and that meant it was part of his heritage, there was no way he was going to give it to the man as another tool to intimidate others with.

'Please Harry, but the weapon is Hogwarts property, as a relic of the founders. Though I imagine owning such an item appeals to you, I must see it returned. It's not yours.' This really pissed him off. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was irrational. The man didn't know he was Gryffindor's heir, and was just trying to keep a relic of the founders safe, but it still got to him.

'Sir, if I may, I am the one who pulled it from the hat. As far as I know, it transfers ownership to me, unless the heir shows himself and claims it, at which point I will hand it over to them willingly. But for now, I shall keep hold of it. Do not worry, i've looked it over, and have ensured the enchantments will prevent anyone but me wielding it, and I have put defenses in place to prevent others from trying to kill me to take it. You may look it over yourself, before I leave.' While Dumbledore looked irritated, he sighed in defeat when he looked it over and saw nothing wrong.

Suddenly the door slammed open, as a blonde man with long hair and a face similar to Draco's walked in, followed by Dobby, looking more depressed than ever. He noticed there was some blood on his pillowcase, his fingers were bandaged, and was shaking more than ever. Lucius, as he'd learned was the name from Draco, looked as well-dressed and aristocratic as ever, sneering at them both.

'So… You saw fit to return, even when the board fired you?' His glare intensified when he looked towards Harry, and his pity only grew for the house elf.

'Well, they decided to allow me to do so, when a young Gryffindor was taken into the Chamber. It's a funny thing, several of them were under the impression that you would harm them and their families if they spoke out against you.' The Headmaster looked more powerful than ever, allowing him to see why Voldemort had feared the man, even with a slightly lower power.

'That's ridiculous, I would never do that. They're clearly lying.'

'Perhaps.' He said this over his half-moon spectacles, and the only Ravenclaw thought he saw a slight shiver of fear pass over Lucius.

'Well then. Come along, Elf.' The disgusting excuse for a man kicked Dobby along, and out the door. As he looked after their retreating backs, suddenly an idea occurred to him.

'Sir, may I return that book to Lord Malfoy?'

'Certainly, Harry, I understand you don't want to allow me the sword, so keep it safe. And make sure the man receives all he deserves.' There it was, a glimpse of the good Dumbldore as he was handed the diary, a bit of pride in his eyes as the man's chest rose slightly at his actions.

Sprinting off, he caught up with the two figures before they managed down the steps, taking off his wet and slimy sock, stuffing it into the journal as he tapped Lucius's back. While he had reservations it would work, he spotted Dobby in the corner of his eye. It would be successful, it had to. For the elf's sake.

'Lord Malfoy, I believe this belongs to you?'

'What are you talking about boy!?' He opened the book, threw away the sock behind him and sneered, shoving it back into his arms. 'Come along, Dobby, we must be going!'

'Master gave Dobby clothing..'

'What are you talking about elf!? I did no such thing!' His glare intensified when he whirled around and saw the sock in his hands. He turned to Harry. 'You! You planned this! I'll have your head, boy!' A light green flared from the wand he'd pulled from his cane, but a quick flick of fingers had him banished as Dobby sent him tumbling.

'You shall not hurt Master Potter! Old Master shall leaves Hoggywarts!' His high queak wasn't as intimidating as it was likely intended, but it did the job as Lucius quickly left with a deep sneer at the two.

'Well Dobby, I don't know what to say, thank you.'

'It is alright Harry Potter Sir, but Dobby cannot survive with a bond, what shall I do?' The elf looked around disparagingly, and Harry decided to help him. While he didn't really need his help, you never knew when someone like he could prove useful, King and Queen were raising their children, after all.

'You could always work for me and be my personal elf. The ones at my manor are busy raising children and tending to their chores, and while I won't have much use for you, I can pay you.' Dobby looked positively tearful at this as he grabbed his legs.

'Yous so good to Dobby! I want no pay, but I do want to have children one days!'

It took some time, but eventually he managed to convince the crazy elf to accept one day off a year, because Harry did need personal space. Any more and he threatened to break it and die, which the Ravenclaw simply couldn't let happen, and the elf knew it. His argument was- what could I need time off for?

Dismissing the elf for the day, he thought about what he needed to do. That's when he suddenly remembered he had something at the Ravenclaw dorms that needed fixing. While everyone had 'forgiven him for being a parseltongue' he hadn't let them be any more than strangers, as he had no interest befriending such fickle people, and it wasn't even a real apology!

So Harry left, and hurried to his room. He needed to finish something before the end of the school year when he could still do magic, and with any hope this would allow him some reprieve from the Dursleys. So he sprinted up the steps, taking two at a time, and arrived at the Tower slightly out of breath. Morning runs had done him well. He'd been slacking off ever since last year, but had started back up again.

Reaching the tower, he answered the riddle - Pickle - and paced himself to his dorm, ignoring the calls for his name, they were just idiots trying to apologize and gain favor. He opened the door, and quickly walked over to his bed, sliding a crusty brown box down from under it. Sitting on his mattress, he placed it on his lap, taking a deep breath. Carefully opening the lid, he looked at his half-finished creation.

It was a box of spare metals he'd asked Dumbledore to permanently transfigure- which meant attaching magic to it that collected the dormant magic in the air- to power the transformation. What this also meant was when he finished it, he'd be able to choose what form it took by simply placing a hand on the item and imagining what he wanted. The inside of the box was moldy, so he pulled it out and threw the thing to the side, carefully examining his creation.

He called it a Sonic Screwdriver. It had various sections, five significant ones, that all combined to form one. The intent was to have a portable unlocking charm without the incantation or need to learn it wandlessley which would take ages, and have it work on every single spell, no exceptions, even the sealing one which essentially made the door a wall. It also detected various signals whether electric, magical or magnetic. Also conveniently working as a banishing charm as a wonderful side-effect from absorbing all the radiation.

It's handle, a black leather-like metal that held strong, had a thumb-sensing charm which activated the sonic everytime he both placed the select finger and willed it. Right below that was a long white section that slowly grew thinner, with eight oval indents that had rounded ends, with a half centimeter between the base and the handle, a small bronze ring also breaking them in half. The base was bronze, with one large ring that had a sudden drop a centimeter in, with a single drop halfway as it slowly grew thinner, until it widened again with a ring, and once more grew, then became smaller with a half inch thick piece and became smaller one more time in one that was an eighth of a centimeter thick and half an inch in diameter.

The piece above the handle was a long metal branch that shined as he polished it, which slowly gave way to the top. It had silver and bronze lines, the silver had dozens of small diamonds that made a section on each which was lifted roughly an eight of a centimeter upk with the base of the section being a bronze ring that led to the handle. The silver pieces led up to connect in the center, with matching metal branches sticking out from the bronze which helped make up the top.

The issue he had with it is there was no suitable power source, not even pure magic seemed to hold enough energy, and he'd practically given up. It had been a pet project of his since the beginning of the year, and it killed him to have to give up. The screwdriver had a center green crystal that would channel it, which he'd been working tirelessly to perfect. The top was a small bubble that, with the small puff in, gave way to another wide but thin bubble that was slightly larger, which thinned out again in between the circle formed by the silver bars, and widened back up again into an extra long crystal that could shorten again via magic, with a small bronze band to help channel the energy forward. It extended with the sonic itself when a button was pressed, and the silver bars extended along with the crystal, to theoretically allow the silver branches to extend so the electricity would center in the bubble and be able to activate a sonic and magic signal that did what he wanted.

The bottom of the base, where it suddenly grew to two larger rings detached itself, to reveal the perfect space for something to power it, as it attached to several wires which connected to the main crystal that ran through it to channel the energy. While the lack of a power source was disheartening, he'd long since resigned himself to the fact it was impossible. But, during his brief visit to the chamber, he had spotted something.

It looked discarded to the normal eye, but to anyone else, it was clearly placed there on purpose to prevent others from giving it a second look. And if he were honest, were it not for the incredibly powerful magical aura it gave off that were almost suffocating, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. Very few had the ability to sense magic, and he was only at a very, very basic level as Dumbledore had taken to teaching him the ability lately, but it gave off incredible waves. Though few knew it because it was simply so time-consuming to learn, as it relied on skill and experience more than anything else. It might take him till sixth year to master it on the course he was currently going.

The item was a pure black crystal, glowing slightly with grey energy and was shaped oddly. Small spikes stretched from it, and if it weren't for the completely pure form with a lack of rocks, he'd suspect it had been freshly cut off. There were no other physical oddities, for all intents and purposes it looked like a normal gem. But, with hope in his chest, he pushed it into the slot at the base, which quickly hooked onto the bottom, and closed it, allowing the wires to connect.

Giving it a second, he waited as it slowly absorbed all the data. Then, carefully holding it in hand, pointed it forwards and pushed his thumb to the handle, willing it to activate as he pressed the button lightly. It jumped forwards and lit up brilliantly, giving off a continuous buzzing sound. Smirking broadly, he pointed it at the door. It opened and he suddenly understood the buzzing as it's enchantments, permanent magic that absorbed ambient magic to work before, but now took it from the crystal that seemed to be a massive source of permanent pure magic, which when touched seemed to lose the tiniest amount then refilled though he sensed no lacking in the air around him, allowed him to understand the noises. It told him the charms and spells woven into the door, which truly gave him the greatest sensation of accomplishment and happiness he had ever felt. He'd created an object, a new object, for his sole purpose that with the new source, he may be able to pass down to his descendants and protect them.

So carefully pricking himself with a small curse, he dropped several beads of blood on the sonic to keep the key from ever being broken rather than a single dollop, and the screwdriver absorbed it, acknowledging him, and his descendants who held his belief as it's permanent owners, never to fade and be by his side for as long as he lived. There was no way he'd let it fall into dangerous hands. Truly, he'd done some masterful work. And with its protections, he and those he chose would be safe in their sleep. It would only prevent assasination and couldn't protect in a duel, though it's allegiance couldn't be won over. Once his line died or his beliefs were no longer held by them, it would shut off and stop working. After all, he needed to ensure their loyalty.

Carefully attaching it to his holster on his left arm, which was a small thin box that when activated by a flick of his wrist, launched the sonic perfectly into his hand so he'd catch it. An identical one lied on his right arm for his wand, both a dark dragon hide he had gotten from Ollivander in Diagon Alley. So, having finished with the Sonic and being the ending of an incredibly eventful day where he'd gone into the Chamber of Secrets, defeated a Basilisk, saved Ginevra Weasley, gotten a new brother, and finished his year-long project, he fall back into bed, sleeping soundly in his robes.

Year 2 end

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