Gods, but this is an awful chapter. *groans* I'm really sorry people, but I've had writer's block and I had to slog through it. The majority of people asked for the third option, so from now on I'll be writing the chapters and posting them when I am happy with them, and when I consider them complete. My mother and father have been talking about disconnecting the internet, some of you would already know that. We've talked to my mother and she says that they're only discussing it at this point. *glares at them* I don't know why they told me that they would definitely be getting rid of it, of course. *grumbles* I'll keep you informed, of course. *grins* Enjoy, if you can. *winces and wanders off*

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Harry sat on his bed, doodling idly on a piece of paper. It was Saturday, and he was bored out of his mind. Eventually he decided to go out onto the quidditch field and practice for the game next week. It was the only one before Christmas, and the whole school was waiting for it. Harry sighed and grabbed his broom.

"I don't see what captivates you so about flying," Sebastian hissed, slithering over to him. Harry smiled and picked up the snake.

"Why don't you come and see?" He said, fully expecting Sebastian to refuse. Instead the snake nodded, if somewhat hesitantly.

"If you think it will be okay, I will," he said. Harry frowned at that. He wasn't quite sure how he could make sure that it was safe.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," he said confidently, heading out of the room.

In the end they decided to create a kind of harness for the snake. Three loops went around three of his heads, tied so that they would not become any tighter or looser and so that they would not slip over his heads. The other end of the harness went around Harry's wrist. Echolalia had decided to stay indoors near the fire and out of reach of the cold.

"You ready?" Harry asked as he mounted his broom, wrapping Sebastian around his neck again.

"I think so," The snake replied, eyes and tongue flickering nervously.

"It'll be fine, Sebastian. I won't go too fast, and I'll land if you want me to."

With that they took off, circling the pitch twice before moving above the stands. Sebastian tightened his hold around Harry's neck for a moment, then opened his eyes and looked down.

"This is amazing," he hissed after a moment of awe. "I can see everything! There's Hogwarts! And the lake!"

Harry laughed. "Do you want to go a bit faster?"

"You mean you can?" Sebastian asked, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Yes, of course. There's no way I'd be able to catch the snitch if I stayed at this speed."
"Please."

With that they sped away, moving away from the field to weave in and out of the turrets. It turned out that Harry didn't end up getting any proper practice in that day.

There was blackness, not just darkness but a complete absence of light, but Harry could still see. Voldemort stood in what seemed to be a glass bowl, and a child was kneeling in front of him.

"Do you know what you have done to me, Potter?" He hissed. Harry jumped, at first thinking that Voldemort was addressing him. It soon became clear that he was talking to himself, however. He kicked the child, who flinched away, whimpering quietly.

"Shut up! I have no use for you!" He snarled.

"Why do you want to hurt me?" The child questioned softly, hurt and shame filling his voice.

"Because you are weak. Because you are afraid. Because you are everything I hate." He said, voice cool. He turned and began to walk away across the black distance. The child raised his head, and Harry saw a face that was familiar. His memory flashed for a moment back to his second year at Hogwarts, and the Chamber of Secrets. He shook his head, telling himself that it couldn't be. Moments later the voice of the child confirmed his suspicions.

"Because I am you."

As the last word faded away the ground began to shift and lengthen. The glass bowl became the bottom of an hourglass.

"There is no time," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the dream, sounding somehow accusing.

"Trust only your friends...the Dark Lord will rise again with the help of his servant...kill the spare...Mars is bright tonight...'

A collage of voices shouted at Harry, and invisible hands tore at his clothes. He tried to scream, to tell the hands to leave him alone. All that came out was a harsh, choking sob. Two red eyes appeared and a horrible, high-pitched laugh filled the air. Harry tried to move his hands to cover his ears only to find that they had become webbed. Suddenly he was swimming, trying to find something. Ron appeared, tied to a rock. Harry wanted to free him, but something held him back. As he tried to make a decision Ron began to rot, decomposing in a blink of the eye. His corpse looked up at Harry, one eye falling out of the socket as it did so. The jaw moved, but no sound came out. Harry knew what it was saying, though.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Don't you trust me?"

The figure became Professor Figg and she lunged at Harry, tearing free of the restraints. She grabbed him, eyes mad.

"Don't you trust me?" She hissed at him, lifting him towards her.

"Don't you trust me?"

Figg changed then ,becoming a Dementor who continued to lift Harry towards it. He struggled, but could not free himself.

"Don't you trust me?" It hissed at him, lowering its mouth towards his, before changing its mind and biting his ear, hard.

Harry shot up, hand moving to cover his ear even as he screamed. He moved his hand away to stare at the blood staining it vaguely. Echolalia fluttered into his view, chattering loudly.
"Quiet! No can sleep, you scream, scream. I bite ear, wake you. Go back sleepy-land!" She shouted, before turning back to the fire. Harry sighed in relief and stood up, moving his hand back to his ear to staunch the flow of blood, and headed down the trapdoor. He held a soft piece of gauze to his ear until the blood flow slowed then stopped. Leaning closer to the mirror and absently noting the dark circles under his eyes, he examined the small wound. Echolalia had bitten right through it. He sighed again, turned away from the mirror and climbed up the ladder leading back to his bedroom. Harry slid between the sheets of his bed, curling up and pulling the blanket up to his chin. After ten minutes he began to snore quietly.

Harry sighed, half-listening to Professor Snape describe what should happen if the potion they were working on worked properly. His eyes slipped shut slowly, giving in to the call of sleep. He dozed, and was almost completely asleep when he felt a hand fall onto his shoulder. He opened one eye slowly to gaze up at Snape.

"I would appreciate it if you stayed awake in my class, Mr. Potter. You will report to me at five o'clock for your detention."

"Sorry, Sir," Harry mumbled, sitting up slightly. Neville, Dean and Seamus were all looking at him, faces worried.

Professor Snape snorted. "Start your potion, Potter, and don't fall asleep in my class again." He stalked away, sitting down behind the desk at the front of the room and beginning to mark the essays the first years had completed as homework. A hand tapped Harry's shoulder and Neville passed him a piece of paper, glancing towards Snape nervously. A list of ingredients were scribbled on it.

"The directions are on the other side," Neville whispered to him. Harry nodded his thanks to him and began to work on the brew. It was soon completed, glowing a deep blue in the cauldron. It was bottled and stoppered before all of the potions were nametagged and placed on a shelf in one of the cupboards to steep. The class filed out of the room slowly, heading towards their next classes and talking quietly.

"Remember your detention," Snape told Harry as he walked past. Harry nodded, and began to walk to transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall watched the seats of the classroom fill slowly. She stood, smiled briefly at them and began to speak.

"As you know we have been using a potion to find out what our animagus forms are likely to be. There are a few of you left to take the potion before we move on to human transfiguration."

The class nodded and she scanned down the list she held in her hand, looking for a name that did not have a mark next to it.

"Harry Potter, please come to the front of the room."

She watched him stand and walk to the front, glancing about nervously. She had high hopes for him, and was curious to find out what kind of form he would take. Professor McGonagall handed him the potion and he opened it, took one last look at her and drank the liquid.