** Dimension Wander **

By Tvillinger

Life II -- Part I

Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight, he felt Fawkes' wings seep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout, "Don't leave me!" but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents?

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder--he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice:

"Kill him."

The basilisk was moving toward Harry; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way--Voldemort was laughing--

His laugh was cut off, and even the basilisk's heavy movements were silenced. Harry, with his eyes still firmly shut, was able to feel the room shift, like it was wavering between realities. Despite his misgivings, he peeked his eyes open.

The room was shifting, one wall of the Chamber shimmering like it couldn't remember if it was supposed to be there or not. And from that shimmering wall came a body...

Harry gaped in wide-eyed wonder as he saw himself, staring right back at him. Every detail, besides the different robes, was the same, right down to the glasses and messy hair. The only thing was that this boy had a weird scar on his forehead.

Awed, Harry took a small step towards his mirror image, too late remembering the danger he was in. Fawkes gave a mighty, musical cry, but the bird too had been distracted by this look-alike's arrival and was coming down too slow. Confused, Harry turned, and saw the bright, glowing eyes of death before the snake's power overwhelmed him, snapping his glasses into a thousand pieces, and he felt every muscle in his body freezing up.

Before he fell, he wondered what would happen to Ginny.

*

Harry felt the sensation of falling without moving as the liquid burned down his throat. Too late, he remembered Neville's last minute addition, a note he'd forgotten to write instructing Harry on adding more than the recommended amount of owl feathers.

The mistake made, Harry now concluded that, by all accounts, he was going to die.

However, as the falling feeling drifted away, he was left with a great and empty feeling, hitting him like a rock to the belly, urging him to move. Reluctant, he fought against the feeling but then was gracelessly thrown back into the world of the conscious.

Bright lights blinded him before disappearing and Harry blinked in sudden surprise, opening his brilliant emerald eyes just in time to see his other self look back at him with the same bit of awe that Harry now felt. He watched his copy for a moment-

But the moment was brutally interrupted when his other self turned sharply. Harry looked as well, time enough to see the horrible end the other self came to. A giant snake, focus on the other self, turned hypnotic gaze and the boy fell, dead to all appearances. Viciously, the snake tore into his arm, huge fangs dripping poison. Blood spilt and ran out.

Harry screamed, backing up against a solid wall and realizing just how terrible a position he was in.

High above, a phoenix screamed in agony, song-like voice merging with Harry as it doze, coming after the snake with a vengeance. Its talons clawed, beak pecking with deadly accuracy. The snake hissed in pain and tried to come back, tried to strike its flying enemy as its eyes were meticulously pecked out.

The snake's blood joined human blood on the floor and Harry felt sickened, worse than anything he'd every felt. Wearily, he slumped up to the boy look-alike, stunned by a face in death so identical to his own.

Something had gone wrong. Instead of simply killing him, the potion had damned him to hell. Harry struggled with the revulsion turning his stomach.

"Who are you?" an accusing voice called out, beckoning Harry's awareness. "Surely you can't be Harry Potter as well."

Harry snapped about. In the background, Fawkes continued screams sounded like the rages of suicidal warriors, giving up everything to and for the cause, song mixing with the tortured but angered hisses as retile and bird finished their dangerous dance of death. Standing to the other side of the familiar room was a boy with black hair and pale skin, skin doomed to grow paler in future years, stretching until the boy's face became an abnormality of the wizarding world.

Tom Marvelo Riddle. Lord Voldemort.

"No," Harry breathed, eyes widening beyond normal size as fear gripped him. "It's-it's not possible." Panicked, he looked around but all signs showed him the truth: the potion had forced him not to the desired dimension, but to an altogether different one, sending him into a time where he was battling Tom Riddle in the depths of the Chamber of Secrets. The dead body on the floor confirmed his supposed youth as twelve, but on his dead copy's forehead, the skin lay unmarred.

Harry recoiled as soon as he saw the lack of a scar, mind whirling too fast to truly comprehend what the sign meant. He shut his eyes tightly as a fit of dizziness hit him; seeing his own body lying dead, bloody, and empty was too much.

Sweat and tears mingled together and Harry was rushed with the feeling of just how lucky he had been, those years before when he had managed to defeat Riddle. Fawkes flirted down a note of desperate satisfaction and Harry looked over to see the Basilisk, bleeding heavily from the eyes, blinded but not yet dead. The task of its death lay to Harry now. Ginny, he realized, was lying prone on the ground not too far away, in direct path of the deadly king of snakes.

Heaving to his feet and chastising himself for his fear, Harry caught sight of the Sorting Hat a short distance away and he swayed uneasily towards it.

Halfway there, he hit an invisible wall.

"I asked your name." The voice of the fifteen-year old Voldemort slapped Harry, but the blow sharpened Harry's mind and refocused his thoughts, making him feel a warmth along his chest he hadn't taken the time to notice. Out of a robe pocket came a slender golden wing, followed by a golden dragon glowing and humming with power as it sensed imminent danger for its master.

Fawkes, slightly tired from its fight, coughed a threatening greeting as another reptile rose to the air.

Across the Chamber, Riddle's eyes widened slightly. "What is that?"

Heartened by his dragon's appearance, Harry took his lessons and strained against the shield, looking for that one break in the defense that would crumble it. "I'd think it obvious; it's a dragon." His dragon chirped. "My dragon."

"Pretty puny," Riddle commented lazily, lifting an eyebrow. From his posture, he didn't expect Harry to break down that shield any time soon. "I didn't know that dragons could be that small. Must be a runt."

The dragon hissed, understanding the content if not the meaning of the words. Its wings spread out and it flew against the shield as well, battering the spiked arches against the invisible wall.

The future Voldemort wasn't daunted. He called out in a hiss to the snake still searching for its flying prey: "Kill the girl."

"No!" Harry looked over to see the snake raising its torn head, tongue slipping out to taste the air. Fawkes, tiring from battle, rose again to the challenge and tore the air asunder to reach the snake, engaging its poisons and distracting it from its mission.

"Focus," Harry muttered to himself, searching through the shields. His dragon hit its spot repeatedly and, on impulse, Harry hit the same spot exactly as one taloned claw.

Riddle laughed. "If that thing thinks it can-" He was cut short as Harry, with the additional power of his dragon, found the small break in the shield and it became visible a moment before blowing away like dust. "How?"

Harry ignored him, running towards the Sorting Hat and stuffing his hand into its tattered material. His hand, at first, encountered nothing, but then the slick, cool feeling of metal chilled his fingers and Gryffindor's Sword slid out with a *shick*.

"Kill the boy!" Riddle screamed, and Harry turned to see the blinded snake slithering towards him. A dreadful feeling rose in his stomach; he remembered this part all too well. "Ignore the bird and kill the boy!"

The basilisk, eye sockets dripping blood and gruesome fangs dripping venom, snaked out its forked tongue as it slithered towards Harry, moving faster than such a huge thing was expected to. Harry lunged aside, turning quickly as the snake slammed against the wall and recovered, leaping for him again. Harry lifted the sword, its bloody rubies glittering with lust, and threw it into the air, ducking at the last moment as the snake flew from its stop to attack him.

The sword caught it mid-flight, striking the snake with such power that it was slammed back against the wall and held there, pinned like a collected butterfly. It hissed weakly, painfully, and Harry felt a twinge of pity for the beautiful, if deadly, snake as it tried to coil up, tried to free itself. The sword had embedded itself too deep in the Chamber's walls for it to do much more than quiver with all the snakes efforts, and soon the basilisk hung dead.

Riddle was practically shaking with fury. He pointed a long, bony finger at Harry angrily. "You-you killed my snake!"

Harry ignored him again, scanning the floor for the diary. There it was! Lying across the room, at the feet of the very pale and shaky Ginny.

"Ginny!" Harry hurried to her side, not even hearing the curses that Riddle was shooting at him. The diary was beside her hand, fingers red like she'd tried to scratch the pages out before fainting. The diary was draining her, almost quicker than in his time. Harry looked around but saw the sword still embedded in the wall, and both of the snake's fangs still hanging from its gaping mouth.

His dragon gave a shrill cry and dove down at the diary, attacking it with its sharp talons.

"Wait!" Riddle shouted. A page ripped, and the teen boy clutched at his fading arm. "What are you doing? Stop it! Get away from that!"

Harry realized that Riddle held Ginny's wand clutched in his hands and pulled out his own wand. "Expelliamus!" The wand jerked away from Riddle's hands, leaving him defenseless.

"No! You don't know what you're doing!" Riddle's pathetic cries echoed hollowly across the Chamber, his body fading quicker and quicker as the dragon let out a furious snort and stabbed the book with a deep thrust.

There was a screaming sound and Riddle was on the floor, screaming, shaking, and writhing in pain before vanishing completely. Harry blinked and felt the first wave of fatigue wash over him. Pulling his dragon close, away from the dripping mess of ink, Harry checked Ginny over, making sure that she was recovering before starting the long and dreadful walk back across the Chamber to see the horrid lump of flesh.

He looked back down onto his dead self and again felt a wave of revulsion and nausea. Little things he hadn't noticed before made themselves clear now. Pieces of glass stuck across the dead's face and eyelashes from when the glasses had shattered under the basilisk's gaze. Harry looked down and knew utter responsibility at this death; he almost cracked.

But years with Sirius and Remus had formed a great strength within him and he wasn't about to break again. "Voldemort killed him," he whispered, words ringing true. "Voldemort killed him like he killed Cedric." Harry closed his eyes and whispered, "Incendio," not wanting to see the gruesome image any more. He turned away from the fire, going over to the dead snake. "Fawkes, help me," he pleaded, tugging at the sword.

The phoenix glanced at the burning body but flew over to Harry, landing on his shoulder. His dragon, siting on the other shoulder, let out a hiss but was ignored. Fawkes clenched his beak about the hilt and, with one strong motion, pulled it from wall.

The snake's body fell with a thud, splashing in the pile of its own blood on the floor. Some of the blood splashed up and got over Harry, who winced at the smell and the sense of wrongness being covered in blood gave.

A faint moan came from the other side of the Chamber, and Harry hurriedly cut off the fire, hoping that Ginny wouldn't detect the smell of burnt flesh above all the over smells. He got to her side as she blinked her eyes open, and was taken away by the confusion and youth this Ginny had that his didn't. It was to be expected; he had already seen Ginny grown to fourteen, while this one was still only eleven.

When she saw him, her eyes lost their confusion to be replaced with utter fear. One of her hands reached up to clench Harry's arm as she babbled, "Harry! You covered in blood--what happened? All I remember is--oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I tried to tell you. Tom made me do it, Harry, I swear he-"

"Shh," Harry put a finger to her lips, silencing her. His dragon swished its tail, and her eyes widened. "Everything's alright. I know what happened, so you don't need to explain." She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off when Fawkes flew over to her shoulder, wetting her with his tears. To Harry, the phoenix looked slightly sad, as if he knew that he'd failed in his task to protect the other Harry, and was trying to make it up by healing Ginny.

"We should get out of here," Harry suggested quietly, helping a refreshed Ginny to her feet. She looked around, panicked, until her eyes settled on the motionless coils of the enormous snake lying in a pile across the room and nodded, not complaining about the speed Harry pushed them to.

They walked in silence a few moments before the sound of falling rocks hit their ears. Grinning with relief, Harry called out, "Ron! We're over here!"

"Harry?" Ron's muffled voice came back, sounding relieved. "Where's Ginny?"

"I'm right here," Ginny replied. "And I'm fine, too."

They sped up to reach the hold Ron had worked through the collapsed rumble and Ginny, after some tears and fears to Ron, was pulled through, followed by a low-flying Fawkes, and a sword-carrying Harry.

Neither of the two commented on him carrying a sword.

When Ron saw the dragon, he swallowed but stayed quiet, holding his questions while he turned his attention to the empty pipes behind them. "Come on, I reckon the whole school's worrying about us. With Lockhart gone, our classes would've been cancelled so they wouldn't have noticed us being gone--well, maybe Ginny--until now. They'll probably have out obituaries out already."

"Obituaries?" Harry wondered. He was ignored.

When they reached the end of the pipes, Ginny sniffed and looked up at the long, black pipe that was their way out. "How are we going to get up there?"

"Fawkes can carry us," Harry answered even as the bird offered its tail to Harry. The two glanced at each other a bit then played along, Ron grabbing Harry's robe and Ginny holding on to Ron's other hand. Fawkes let out a huffy squawk when the dragon tried to hold on as well, throwing the small creature off. It blew a cloud of smoke at the phoenix angrily before latching onto Harry.

"Lazy bum," Harry chided, regaining his humor after the horrific event. It slapped Harry with a wing, and Fawkes took off, lifting the three up. A sense of weightlessness overtook them, as they went higher and higher, bringing to Harry a burden-free feeling he craved. The pipes expanded magically before throwing them down on the floor of the girls' bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle let out a shout of surprise before blinking to get a better look at them. "Looks like you made it," she stated dully.

"If we didn't, I'd come back and share a stall with you," Harry promised wearily. Myrtle brightened up and left them alone.

He lay in a pile of limbs for a moment, absently bringing a hand up to wipe the smile off his glasses before he leaned over and grinned madly at his two friends, overcome by the sheer thrill of survival. "That was an adventure!"

"Harry, are you bloody insane?" Ginny shouted, leaping up with tears cascading down her face. "We could've been killed! You could've been killed! And I'm going to get expelled!"

Ron took a good look at Harry and paled. "Harry, you're covered in blood."

Harry shrugged, still grinning with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His joy was cut short when Fawkes nudged his shoulder towards the door, urging him to a room he knew he had to go to. "Oh, can't we wait another minute?" he pleaded with the bird but it didn't agree.

His dragon took up his cause, spreading its wings apart and pulling its neck back to protect its head as it let out a huge hiss of anger, tail swishing back and forth like a club. Fawkes looked mildly disturbed at such a sight, and the dragon hissed lower, its spikes standing on edge in a protective layer around its scales.

"Woah!" Ron and Ginny fell back, watching the mini-battle between reptilian and phoenix, the second the weary Fawkes had to go through.

Harry rolled his eyes and waved a hand between the two magical creatures. "Shut it!" he commanded, wrapping his sleeve around his hand so that he could safely pick up his dragon. It's neck snaked out and tried to bite him but Harry avoided it. Fawkes let out a disapproving note and Harry hung his head. "I guess we'll have to go."

"Go where?" Ron asked, standing and helping the two to their feet.

Harry wiped as much grim off his robes as possible. "We got to follow Fawkes to McGonagall's room," he explained, distastefully cleaning off his hands. He glanced at himself in the mirror and turned a beaming smile onto his friends, spreading his arms out wide, unable to contain his complete freedom as worries passed away. Nothing could drag him down now. "There. How do I look?"

"Did something happen down there?" Ron whispered loudly to Ginny, who shrugged with a blank expression on her face. She stopped crying, which was good enough for Harry.

Fawkes cried out again and Harry waved a hand at the bird. "Hold your horses already. Jeez, we got plenty of time."

Ron and Ginny exchanged questioning glances but didn't voice their confusion, falling behind Harry as he started out of the bathroom and down the hall after Fawkes' lead. Several times they had to pause as Harry's dragon became bored and picked fights out with various things: suits of armor, ghosts, wide-eyed students, Fawkes--the phoenix was beginning to look agitated with the puny reptile, sweeping its wings against the dragon to brush it aside mid-air.

Finally, the trio reached McGonagall's room and the door opened. For a moment, they just stood in the doorway, dripping their foul-smelling grime all over the place. The silence was broken by a scream.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley rushed forward, her husband following quickly, and they squeezed Ginny to an inch of her life before turning on Ron. "My babies," the woman sobbed, clutching her children to her breast.

Harry smiled slightly at the scene before looking passed them, seeing the familiar-yet-different face of the headmaster, leaning against the mantle place. Fawkes gratefully left Harry's side to go and float at Dumbledore's side, landing gracefully on a shoulder. A shiver passed through Harry as he realized that where his Dumbledore had always held a firm trust in him, this Dumbledore's eyes held no such light, almost as though he was a stranger.

Harry unlocked his gaze with the steely blue and glanced about the room again. This time, his eyes caught again but an unbelieving sob tore at his throat.

Eyes green as his own with a face as forbidden to him as an angel's, Lily Evans Potter descended upon Harry like a mist of happiness. "Harry! Oh Harry!"

He stiffened at her touch, unbelieving and unable to believe what his mind registered as touch, smell, and sight. She felt real, true enough, but the mind could be deceived. Her scent was as foreign as a tropical breeze, exactly as he had imagined and she held him in a motherly embrace that could not be imitated.

"M-mum?" It couldn't be true, his mind argued, even as her tears wetted his shirt. Her hands wrapped about him and held him tight, using his body as a stabilizer for her unsteady misery-relief.

Lily pulled away and wiped at her tears but as soon as she took in his appearance, his blood-dripping robes and grim-stained clothing, she broke into another round of tears and Harry thought for a moment that she was ashamed of him, that his appearance caused her pain.

His mind was too frozen to register the voice that comforted her, the shoulders that her arms slid around, until the voice was directed to him. "We came as soon as we could," James Potter informed him gravely, not even a twinkle in his eyes. He looked Harry over and paled several shades. "Son... what happened?"

Whatever response James expected from his son, fainting was not one of them. Harry took one look at his father and, even as he realized that what everyone said was true (they did look alike), his mind was completely overwhelmed by this sudden wish-come-true and blanked out. He hit the floor with the grace of a brick.

*

When Harry awoke, it was to the smell of rank salts stuck beneath his nose. He brushed the hand that held them away, nose wrinkling in disgust. A snort reached his ears along with retreating footsteps. Harry blinked awake and for a moment, his vision was cloudy-white, like a foggy day.

The fog cleared and showed him the hospital wing, normal as ever, but just seeing it made him shiver and clutch his arms to his chest, feeling cold despite the lack of a chill. The wing was empty and he guessed Madam Pomfrey had been the one to just walk away. Swinging his feet over the edge and standing up, Harry pulled on his boots and tiptoed down to the door.

Opening the door, he carefully looked around and saw no one coming. With a sigh of relief, Harry sneaked out the door, quietly closing it behind him. It wouldn't be until he was far gone, already down the halls towards the dungeon, that Pomfrey would walk out and notice her patient gone, then alert the school with a horrified scream.

Harry walked through the halls, nodding to the people who nodded to him, noting that many either avoided his eyes or watched him with something akin to worship. Uncomfortable, Harry tugged at his cleaned robes and hurried down. Hopefully, there wouldn't be anyone in the dungeons and he'd be able to concoct a batch of the counter potion, be able to return home.

Where his other dimension hop had left him in a worry-free place, this one, while trying to act the same, gave Harry an awful feeling of despair. He noticed the desperate sorrow reflected in every student; no one looked untouched. Shivering again without a chill, Harry averted his gaze, wondering what sort of magic had so turned his world.

He headed down to the dungeons but, even getting close to the doors, he heard Snape's bellowing voice raging at an incompetent student and wearily made his way back up to ground level, unwilling to face down Snape while a feeling of unnaturalness clung to his every pore.

Something was wrong. He had known it before but now, he attributed the wrongness to something that lie just outside. While walking, Harry noted that all the windows had been bricked shut. Torches lit the halls, shading everything in a sickly orange or a sinister red. Concerned, he looked around for a door and found that even those had been bolted, held magically locked but whether it was to prevent entrance or exit, he wasn't sure.

Giving up with a sigh, Harry turned to go towards the library, retracing his footsteps. Halfway there, he met up with a grim-looking Ron. "Ron? What's wrong?"

Ron gave a start. He had been sitting alone on a flight of stairs, not caring when the stairs moved. Blinking, the redhead shook his head for an answer.

Casually, Harry sat down and gave out a deep breath of relaxation as he stretched out over the stairs, looking up towards the ceiling.

They rested there for several minutes before Ron broke the silence. "What do you want?" His voice was cold.

Harry blinked and looked to his best friend but saw none of the friendliness Ron always held for him. "Um, just wondering if you're all right?"

Ron nodded sharply, clearing expecting Harry to leave but Harry wasn't about to go anywhere. Finally, Ron groaned and leaned back against the stairs. "Just leave me alone, Harry."

"Not until you tell me what's the matter," Harry shot back. "Or do you usually mope on stairs?" Ron glared at him then turned away. "No, I'm serious-"

"What's the matter with you," Ron came back, voice angled to sting. "What's with the sudden concern?"

"Sudden concern? What are you talking about? Aren't we friends?" The thought that they weren't friends came to mind but Harry brushed that thought away, assured that he and Ron would always be friends. Ron didn't answer so Harry started a different approach. "How's Ginny?"

"Fine. Now go away."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes with exasperation. "No."

"Yes." Ron was insistent.

"No." So was Harry.

"Go!"

"Make me!"

"You want me to?" Ron took out his wand threateningly.

Harry's forehead wrinkled. "What do you plan on doing with that?"

"I'll make you leave," Ron promised, but his hand was shaking.

"Please." Harry's hand shot out and gripped the wand, taking it away from the deranged Gryffindor. "Now, I'll make you tell me what's wrong. You decide: tell me willingly, or unwillingly." The threat was meant as a joke but Ron pale, taking it seriously.

"No-nothing--all right, I'm worried about Ginny," Ron finally confessed, face slacking in worry. "This is only her first year here."

"Our first year wasn't all that easy," Harry reminded.

Ron looked up with confusion. "What are you talking about? The hardest thing we had to do was testing, and Ginny nearly died! What'll happen next year? Or the year after that? What if she nearly dies every year?"

He buried his face in his hands as Harry frowned, thinking the statement over. Apparently, this dimension wasn't quite as similar as he first thought. Slowly, an idea formed in his head and, reluctant as he was, Harry took Ron's wand and whispered the words to a hypnosis charm, a charm that would send Ron into dazed oblivion. Similar to the Imperious Charm as it was, the hypnosis was very dark magic. His days with Slytherin had left him with more knowledge to those kinds of magicks than he would've preferred. But the power rushed through his body, through his veins, with an odd sensation, an odd addiction.

Ron's head drifted down and his expression eased into blankness. Breathing quickly as he realized just what he did, Harry looked around to make sure no one was coming then quickly started questioning Ron for knowledge he needed. Why are my parents still alive? Why are all the windows and doors boarded shut? What happened in our first year, what happened so far in our second? Why do people look at me strangely, and why don't I have a scar on my forehead? Questions, growing greater in number as Harry thought about the new dimension and the mysteries therein, bombarded Ron and the redhead answered each with a mechanical thoroughness. His voice, empty though it was, gave Harry a shiver and an answer.

Voldemort, many years ago, had been discovered scheming a plot to kill the Potter family. As a result, Dumbledore had placed the family under the Fidilius Charm, hiding their location within their Secret Keeper. For many year, Sirius Black was on the run as it was thought that he was the Keeper, but just two years ago, it was found out that Peter Pettigrew had become the Keeper at the last minute, a secret only four people in the world knew. The Fidilius Charm had been dispelled the year Harry started at Hogwarts.

Because Voldemort had never battled Harry to meet his downfall, the Dark Lord grew in power and Hogwarts was now the last place of protection against him. Doors and windows were barred, magically and physically, to protect students and professors against the constant fire of magic. As things stood now, Hogwarts was weakening daily and within a few years at the most, she too would fall.

Ron and Hermione had been Harry's friends, up until the summer last when Hermione's house had been attacked and her family had gone into hiding. Apparently, the other Harry had been able to warn the Grangers in time though what Ron said was prophecy. This warning gave Harry an extreme amount of respect and fear from the other students.

For awhile after Ron's voice dropped out, Harry sat in stunned silence, unable to comprehend just how terrible his situation was. Erasing Ron's immediate memory with the ease of a graduate, Harry got up and ran towards the library, determined to find out more about this dimension and help.

*

"I-I don't know what happened," the nurse was sobbing into her sleeves. "One minute he was there, the next he was gone-"

"Calm down, Poppy," Dumbledore urged gently but firmly, keen eyes taking in the hospital wing and the empty bed that should have been occupied.

But the nurse wasn't comforted. Her eyes kept going back and forth towards the empty bed with something akin to horror in her eyes. "I-I even did what you said," she muttered weakly. "But he got out, even with the magical bearings."

"Magical bearings?" James, standing behind the headmaster, straightened sharply. "What magical bearings?"

Dumbledore sighed and urged the two Potters to sit. "Something has occurred that I'm not sure I can explain," he began tiredly, fatigue in his every move. James and Lily sat, confused. "When Harry came back, he was completely unharmed-"

"Fawkes would've healed him," Lily pointed out. "That phoenix loves him, you know that."

"Fawkes healed Ginny Weasley," Dumbledore countered. "Her magical essence proves it as such. And, as a phoenix can only heal once a day, it leave me to believe that somehow, your son faced down a magically-powered Basilisk and a young Voldemort, coming out with no injuries."

"There... there must be an explanation," James fumbled awkwardly. "Harry's always been a special lad, maybe-"

"No," Dumbledore interrupted not unkindly. "Even if he is special, it was a second-year facing down a fifth-year--and a fifth-year who held no qualms against using dark magic. But, that is not all. When he was placed in the hospital wing, Poppy discovered that Harry's magical power had increased yet again."

Lily's breath caught but it was James who answered. "But you said it couldn't happen."

"Not naturally," Dumbledore said softly, the accusation hanging stiffly in the air along with the silenced Potters. "Something happened in the Chamber of Secrets that Harry needs to tell us."

"So, now he's a High Enchanter?" Lily's soft voice asked. Her eyes were closed and she shook her head. "I... I can't believe it."

"The System of Wizardry would label as such," Dumbledore agreed. "His power is enormous. We need to find your son immediately and question him. Sooner or later, he'll notice his increased powers. Better that he is told then he finds out on his own."

*

They found him in the library, having ditched his classes (not smart, as this was the day of end-of-the-year tests) and being surrounded by books on magical history. Harry looked up guiltily.

James approached first, smiling tightly. He gestured to the books. "A little late to study, isn't it?"

Harry looked down. "Oh." He shut his books but not before Dumbledore caught a glance at what the teen was looking at very recent history. Wondering about it, the headmaster directed a sharp look to the boy who looked like he was caught doing something illegal. "I was just... reading..."

"Harry, we need to talk to you," Lily said, voice pleading as she took a seat beside her only son. He wouldn't even look her in the eyes, face gone pale and stuck to the table. Frustrated, Lily reached forward and lifted his chin. "Harry?"

Startling them all, Harry was shaking and looked close to tears. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed with suspicious thought. James took up a seat beside his wife, concerned. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," the teen answered, stuttering slightly. "I'm fine. I just, I need to go to class."

"A little late for that, aren't you?" Dumbledore's cool voice said and Harry winced, further surprising them.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out, reaching for his books and his hands trembled. But a look at Dumbledore said that such an exit wouldn't be happening.

"Sit down, Harry," Dumbledore gently, a tone that hid his true suspicions. Years of war had not been easy on the headmaster and now, he couldn't even trust the son of his two greatest supporters. Harry sat down, keeping his head and eyes cast down as if he had recently come upon some ill-fated knowledge. The Harry he knew of two years was outgoing, to be sure because of James' influence, but he was also recklessly careless of his own safety, which was why the boy had probably gone straight down to save Ginny Weasley before consulting a professor. Gryffindor through-and-through, but then again, Harry had the slyness of a Slytherin.

"Harry," Lily looked wildly alarmed at her son's behavior. "We need to ask you something." Harry looked up but then, catching her eyes, looked down again. Distressed, Lily tried to soften her tone. "Just about last night, in the Chamber. We just... we just need to know what happened."

"We're not mad at you," James quickly added. "We just..."

To Harry, his words drained off to some speech better forgotten. In his head, a paragraph rang over and over: In an ingenious plot, the Potters and two friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, came up with a plan to at once trick the Dark Lord and keep the Potters safe. Black would pretend to be the Secret Keeper of a Fidilius Charm cast over the Potters and would hide away himself. Pettigrew, however, would become the true Secret Keeper but, with the attention focused on Black, would remain safe. This plan worked up until 1987, when Black was finally captured by the Dark Lord and killed. Luckily...

He had never thought Sirius could die. The idea was absurd, unrealistic, something worth a good laugh; Sirius was invincible. When he was asking Ron, he'd merely assumed that everyone was fine. But now...

"Please," Lily's voice was asking him but it rang hollow. "We're your parents." But little did she know that he had now lived in two dimensions where Sirius was the only true parent-model. "We're just worried about you." And now Sirius was dead. "Professor Dumbledore is worried about you, too." And in his place were two real parents--he wanted Sirius back.

James placed his hand on his wordless son's shoulder, effectively if unknowingly jerking Harry out of his lost thoughts. Harry looked up but again, the image of his father was too much and his eyes quickly went back down. "I-I can't remember much," Harry finally spoke. "Most of it's a blur."

"Then just tell us what you remember," Dumbledore ordered softly.

In the same soft tone, Harry's mind listed off his own memories of the Chamber of Secrets, a memory where Fawkes had done most of the work and where Harry had truly never thought Riddle was an enemy until too late. His mind was whirling, backlashing again with too many memories, with two different accounts now of the Chamber. No one seemed to notice him drifting.

"Nothing else happened?" Dumbledore asked when Harry's voice lapsed. Harry shook his head.

The headmaster gave the Potters a look and Lily paled. "Harry," she said softly, "we have to go, but we'll be back all right?"

"Don't go thinking you can ditch all your classes," James tried for humor but Harry still wasn't meeting his eyes. Perplexed, James led Lily from the library to call a meeting for the Order, a last-ditch measure to protect Hogwarts against Voldemort. Dumbledore clearly thought Harry was hiding something and he was determined to figure out what.

Dumbledore also left, leaving Harry alone in the library with the book that condemned his godfather to a meaningless death. His hands trembled and he fell asleep.

*

"Harry?" Someone touched his cheek and he stirred back to wakefulness. Ginny, red hair and freckles all, was watching him with concern but the concern drifted away to relief when she saw him wake up. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded and exhaled slowly, letting his mind rearrange itself back to an order disrupted by chaotic dreams. "I'm fine. You?"

She blushed and lowered her gaze but nodded as well.

He was still in the library. Standing, Harry stretched aching muscles, popping protesting joints, and brushing away the sand in his eyes. "What time is it?"

"The library's about to close, and you missed dinner," she answered, getting to her feet as well. "I just saw you and thought you should know. Oh!" She reached into her robes and pulled out his dragon. "I found him. He's yours, right?"

The dragon apparently was very angry at Harry for being left behind. Harry managed a smile and nodded, grabbing it and holding it tight as memories reminded him what it could do when let free in the library. "Yea. Where was he?"

"Outside. When you...fainted," here her cheeks colored in a pretty blush, "no one knew what to do with it. So they just put it outside." The dragon hissed angrily at being reminded and struck a claw vengefully at Harry, catching his collar.

Harry laughed and batted its head before picking up his bags. "I guess we better go, huh?" She nodded. Just being in her presence seemed to calm his ragged nerves, giving him relief against a tyrannical chaos that wanted to ravage his mind. He passed the students, not even noticing their looks, ignored the artificial lights that brightened the halls in absence of open windows, and let his dragon soar, a reflection of his changed moods.

"You're happy," Ginny commented, then blushed again when he looked at her.

"I guess I am," he admitted slowly. "Just being with you makes me happy." The fifteen-year old (actually, now that he thought about it, he could reasonably claim to be twenty-three, if he wanted to add on the eight years he lived in the other dimension) stuck again in a younger body watched as Ginny's cheeks flamed even brighter and he smiled.

*

That night, after grabbing some food from the kitchens (Ginny had been startled to find out he knew where the kitchens were. Everyone thought only the twins knew that secret location) Harry tried to sleep but couldn't. An urge, an almost magical impulse really, was shoving its presence into his brain, forcing him to stay away. He tossed and turned in his bed and finally got up, throwing the curtains back, and looked around, looked for whatever the urge wanted him to see.

There wasn't anything in the dormitory so Harry angrily shoved to his feet and threw on his robes, stalking from the room. Unseen, his dragon, perched on his trunk, was disturbed enough to wakefulness and croaked its mouth open. Seeing Harry leaving like a storm cloud, the dragon lazily stretched its wins open and got up, preferring to crawl after the teenage boy. Its talons clicked loudly on the floor.

Harry cuddled up on a chair, staring deeply into the hypnotizing fire--almost as hypnotizing as the charm. Harry felt a burst of shame at using his friend so, but it couldn't be helped. Clicking noises on the floor drew his attention and he glanced down with a start only to see his dragon trailing after him like a golden puppy.

"Come here." He leaned over and picked it up, stroking its scales, careful not to accidentally poke a finger on the sharp spikes. His thoughts deepened and he looked down to the dragon. "What do you think about all this?" he whispered. "Voldemort's had twelve more years here than he did back home. Do you think he's stronger?" His fingers traveled up on their own will, tracing the marked skin on his forehead with a wonder. "And what about that potion? It brought you with me, and even left me with my scar."

The dragon, tired down to docility, yawned again, ignoring him as it settled into his lap, eyes reflecting the fire's flame. Its chest heaved up and down with heavy breathing and the soft lisp on its breathing drew Harry to sleep like a mother's lullaby, making him discard his worries to the fire that warmed them both.

Outside the Fat Lady's portrait, Dumbledore wearily walked towards the Gryffindor common room, forced to pause every few steps to gather and re-gather his energies. Outside, Voldemort's forces raged and somehow, Dumbledore knew the Dark Lord had heard of Harry's recent bulges of powers and wanted the secret to those power surges for his own dark purposes.

The Fat Lady, jostled awake by his presence, smiled respectfully when he told her the password and swung open. He paused again before starting up the stairs but during that pause, Dumbledore spotted the student he was in search of, sleeping peacefully on the couch. Fire cast their shadows on his and he looked much older than his twelve years. Of course, everyone looked older as this war waged on, taxing life and vitality, but the image of the student before him was so suddenly changed that Dumbledore felt his dark suspicions rising up again, urging him to put a stop to the boy's future violence before it was too late. Only one other student had ever brought such madness to Dumbledore's instincts, and that student was Tom Riddle.

Chill rested in his bones and Dumbledore for a moment thought of following his instincts before reason stopped him. Harry Potter was an innocent in the war, an innocent who for some reason gave off power like heat wave, but that did not in itself call for the boy's death.

Dumbledore walked slowly over to the sleeping child, feeling kind waves replace the quick feeling of hate. He had always felt unnaturally close to the boy, but such ties could be used in times as dark as these, so instead of mentoring the boy as he wished, Dumbledore treated Harry as no one especially special. And as a result, Voldemort's interest in the boy faded down to a manageable whisper.

Harry stirred, face wrinkling in the throes of a nightmare. On his lap, the creature from before, attached to the boy, also let out a hiss. The dragon's presence also drew questions: how did Harry, only a second-year, manage to conjure up a familiar, and what power source did he draw upon to sustain the creature's life?

With a shout, Harry snapped awake from nightmare-stained sleep, jerking upright with force enough to strip the dragon of its lap and send it tumbling to the floor. The dragon blinked in shock then yawned, painfully crawling up Harry's leg again, letting its talons lightly poke the skin in retaliation. Harry, shivering, wiped his eyes and reached for the pair of glasses that had absently been left upstairs on his dresser. With a mental shrug, Harry leaned back into the chair, sighing in relief as the dream faded to leave him clueless as to what it was about.

His dragon suddenly snapped its head up and hissed at the unannounced man, recognizing the face but not the persona behind it, knowing that while this man looked like the kindly old headmaster, it was a different person who wished Harry harm. Harry glanced over and started at the sight of Dumbledore.

"Headmaster-"

"You're up late, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking around. Harry fidgeted.

"I couldn't sleep," he replied honestly.

Dumbledore nodded sagely and took a seat, looking away from Harry and into the comforting fire. After a minute where only the dragon's soft growling hisses, Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, I've come here because, to be honest, I think you're lying."

"What-"

Dumbledore held up a hand and shook his head. "No. Let me speak. For one thing, you speak of Fawkes healing you with his tears, but I know for a fact that Fawkes healed Ginny."

Harry swallowed, having forgotten about that difference in his memories.

"I'm also concerned with the fact that again, your power has increased." Dumbledore looked him steadily in the eye. "Madam Pomfrey has recorded that you're power scale is greater than it was the last time you were in the hospital wing. Because of this significant fact, I'm forced to acknowledge that you're either lying to me or you're memory has been tampered with. And because I've seen no evidence of a memory charm, I'm only left with one alternative."

Dumbledore's face turned grave. "Harry, if you don't give me a reasonable explanation, I'll be forced to call the Ministry."

"What?" Harry shouted, outraged. "Call the Ministry? About what?"

"You have just faced down an image of Tom Riddle," Dumbledore answered, voice seething. "Yet you come back with no wounds. Why? Did Riddle recognize you as an ally and release you?"

Harry's mouth moved as he fought for words before shouting back, "What?"

"I've given you warning," Dumbledore's anger drained down to the eternal weariness that followed him. "You can either heed my advice or face down a Wizard's Trial."

Again, Harry was stunned to silence, eyes wide and mouth gaping at the headmaster, outrage reflected on his face and a twisted sense of betrayal in his eyes. Dumbledore turned back to the fire and ignored both the boy and his familiar's hisses, knowing that the choice lay in the hands of a twelve-year old who probably lacked true understanding of the charges lain against him.

Finally, Harry sighed, letting the sound reflect all his frustrations and angers. He threw himself back against the seat and curled his legs up beneath him, anger floating off him as he seethed. "What do you want to know?"

"Exactly what happened," Dumbledore replied simply. "You face down a fifth-year, or at least the echo of one, but I doubt any normal second-year could accomplish that feat."

"You don't think that I, a second year, could beat Riddle?" Harry rephrased and Dumbledore nodded, eyes still on the fire. "All right. What about a seventh-year? Or a graduated student?" At Dumbledore's questioningly look, Harry bit his lip but forced himself on. "What about a seventh-year stuck in a second-year body?"

"Harry, stop talking in riddles."

"All right, but I'm warning you, you're not going to believe me." Harry leaned deeper into the seat and closed his eyes. "I really am Harry Potter, but the thing is that I'm not you're Harry Potter. See, I'm supposed to be in my fifth year at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore didn't look at all convinced and even as Harry spoke of the failed potion, hinting to a time spent in another dimension, a dimension he wanted to return to, Dumbledore's expression didn't change. Harry pulled from his pocket a sheet of paper.

"Here," he handed the paper over. "I wrote the potion down as soon as I could, so I wouldn't forget."

Dumbledore didn't even take the paper. He only stared at the boy before him, expressionless, and slowly stood. "That will not be necessary," he said, waving the paper away, and stopping to look over Harry once more. "This... I will need some time..."

Harry forced a smile, swallowing at the lack of trust between student and professor, and cheerfully replied, "That's all right. I'll need some time to get used to this dimension, too."

"Yes." Dumbledore's eyes turned thoughtful before blanking out again, and Harry almost squirmed, hating to see such lack of trust with the man who had always trusted him before. Dumbledore blinked and shook his head. "I suggest that you tell no one of this. As of yet, I'm not convinced that you're telling the truth, so I warn you not to do anything more to disrupt my trust in you."

Trust, Harry wanted to scoff angrily, trying to hide the hurt he was feeling. You don't trust me at all. Why? Why don't you trust me?

The old professor sighed and turned away. "Good night, Harry. If you are speaking truth, then something truly marvelous has occurred, something that might help us win this battle against Voldemort.

As the portrait swung shut behind the professor's back, Harry collapsed against the chair. "Voldemort was the reason I came here," he muttered to himself, the dragon crooning in support. "Am I never going to be free of him?" He groaned and stuffed his face into a pillow, imagining the universe laughing at him for trying to escape his unwanted destiny.

He fell asleep then, with the haunting picture of Dumbledore's hate-filled eyes tormenting his sleep. The dragon let out a hiss of anger and curled up on the boy's lap, determined not to let his master suffer anymore.

*

'This is sooo boring,' Harry moaned to himself, feeling ready to hit his head against a wall as he wandered about the school of Hogwarts, his only companion the golden dragon that was perched on his shoulder. The dragon cawed, tail swishing in boredom as well which was never a good sign. 'I want to go back home. I bet Sirius is worried and it's almost time for the full moon--I think, can't really tell with all the windows boarded up--so Remus is probably resting and Sirius is destroying the house and Dumbledore is getting ready for Ron and Hermione's first year and...'

'Wait a second, that's not my real home!' The thought shocked him. His real home was in his first dimension, living with the Dursleys for his childhood years and then going to Hogwarts with his two best friends, having his own House and not being shuffled around because the Sorting Hat couldn't choose a house for him. 'But I liked the other dimension better,' he thought to himself a little bitterly, preferring the careless childhood with Sirius to the downright torturous one with the Dursleys. He paused, wondering what he'd do if he could choose between the two: Sirius and Remus, or Hermione and Ron.

He paused so suddenly that his dragon fell over, barely getting its wings out in time to prevent it from slamming against the ground. Growling in annoyance, the little thing flew over Harry's head, into the suit of armor leaning against the wall, nearly toppling it over on Harry.

"Hey!" Harry jumped out of the way. "Jeez, do you always gotta be so mean?" His dragon seemed to snicker, flying on ahead and Harry frowned playfully. "I don't think so! You're not getting away that easily!" His wand flashed out and he sent a harmless globe of white light flying towards the dragon, crashing into it and turnings its scales a nasty shade of blue.

Outraged, the dragon hissed and clawed at its funky scales, trying to claw the color out buts its claws scraped uselessly against its thick scales and in the end the dragon glared unhappily at its owner.

Harry laughed and shook his head, shaking a finger at the dragon. "It's your own fault. You started it."

They wandered about and finally Harry had enough. "Argh!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm getting out of here!"

In this universe, there wasn't really a summer seeing, as how no one could really leave the school. Classes went on and on and on, like an endless cycle of lectures and homework. It was mind boggling, but Harry guessed the other students would rather put up with it instead of trying to survive outside for the two summer months. Unlike the other students, however, Harry wasn't born and brought up in this system, and being so bound in one place was driving him mad.

His dragon crooned to him, sensing his thoughts and agreeing, wanting some fresh air and open space to stretch its wings.

"But..." Harry frowned, putting his chin in his hand as he thought. "How to get out?"

"Get out where?"

Harry spun around to see no one other than Ginny Weasley, face pale but paleness was something Harry was used to seeing in everyone's faces from lack of natural sunlight. Blinking in surprise, Harry said, "Er... no where?"

"Like I believe that, Harry Potter," Ginny shot back, hands on her hips, manner instantly familiar. Everyone was familiar with each other; you lived with your classmates all year, every year for seven years. Closer than family, at times. With one exception: himself. Since he'd miraculously 'seen' Hermione's family being attacked, he was avoided at all costs. Harry frowned. Why was he always the exception to the rule? He just wanted to be normal once in awhile.

Seeing him frown, Ginny instantly backed off. "I'm sorry," she apologized, hands slipping down and looking contrite.

Harry smiled easily at her and shook his head. "For what?" Without giving her time to answer, he lifted up his arm and his dragon swooped down and Harry glanced around secretively before answering Ginny's question truthfully. "I'm getting out of here," he whispered. "Out of Hogwarts."

Her eyes widened. "But Harry! You can't!"

"Shh!" He looked around again and stepped closer to her. "I can and I will. I just have to find a way."

"But... but why Harry? What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt?" Her eyes were watering with fear already.

"Don't worry about me," he answered bravely. "I've got my protection right here." His dragon screeched proudly, head held high.

Ginny shook her head and turned to go. "I'm going to tell your parents," she hissed at him. "It's too dangerous-"

"I'll bring you back something," Harry promised, stopping her in her tracks. How often had Hogwarts students wished to go outside, wished to see how the world was and to see everyday things like flowers and clouds. And now her wish was about to be granted. Ginny's breath caught in her throat, half-frightened by the knowledge that Harry would risk such danger and half overwhelmed with desire. She was too young to completely understand the danger, no matter how often she'd heard of it, and since her life was relatively untouched by darkness, the concept of finally seeing something from the outside world was just too tempting to pass off.

"All right," she conceded, "but I'm coming with you."

"You can't," Harry replied instantly. "You're only a first year."

"You're only a second."

"No I'm... well, I guess I am," Harry admitted with a smile, "but I have someone to protect me."

Ginny looked to the dragon and answered with a determinedness that couldn't be forestalled, "It can protect both of us." The dragon, having heard enough of both arguments, swooped up and did a circle round Harry's head, and the boy sighed.

"All right." He looked around again to make sure no one was nearby, and motioned for her to follow. "Come with me. I know a secret way out."

They trailed down the halls, pausing to hide when someone walked by, and carefully made it to the old witch statue halfway down the third-floor corridor. Ginny looked about expectantly but just as Harry was about to pull out his wand, two voices came towards them.

"You don't think anyone's figured out about those secret passages, do you Fred?"

"Naw. Besides, if they did, they'd be boarded up by now."

The twins, paler than Harry had ever seen them, came tromping down the corridor and it was all that he could do to pull Ginny into the shadows and watch. The twins looked around but not thoroughly enough to see the two underclassmen, and Fred pulled out his wand, tapping it on the witch's hump. "Dissendium," he announced, and the hump opened wide.

"It's going to be a pretty tight fit for us when we get older," Fred joked.

"Well, that's a bit of good news. This way, only small people can get through," George said thoughtfully, putting his hand through the hole. "See," he looked back to his brother, "nothing to worry about. No one's been down this passage since the last time we checked. All my wards are still up."

Fred looked in the hole and stuck his own hand in, yelping. He pulled the hand back, rubbing the red skin but grinning. "Check on the statue, then." The brothers back away as the hunched witch closed the entrance, and then they started off again. "What's next?"

"Let's see, it's about time to check on that old passage way down by the Slytherin common room," George answered, voice getting fainter and fainter as they walked further away.

Harry almost cursed. For the twins to know about the statue, they'd have to have found the map, and if they had the map, they'd see that one Harry Potter and one Virginia Weasley were currently standing by the witch's hump, prepared to sneak away. Still, though, now that his frustration faded away, it was good to know that at least someone was keeping track of the passages, and such vigilance was easily evaded if someone knew how.

"What were they doing?" Ginny asked, a little frightened at being so close to discovery.

Harry turned to her, finding her eyes in the shadows. "They know about the passages, and are making sure no one's using them to get inside the castle."

"Oh." Her eyes widened. "So, we can't go, can we?"

"Of course we can," Harry scoffed, already stepping from the shadows and getting close to the witch. He almost felt like rubbing his hands in delight at the challenge. "We just have to make sure that they don't find out."

"Harry," Ginny reminded him seriously, "Fred and George are two years older than you are. You're not seriously suggesting that we try to outdo their spells, are you?"

Harry only grinned in reply before tapping the witch's hump, repeating the magic word. When the crack appeared, the dragon almost immediately swooned down to go through the familiar passageway, but Harry grabbed its tail just in time. "Wait a second, will you?" he chided, pushing it aside in the air as he glanced into the dark entrance. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel the magic waves now that he knew they were down there. Invoking on a charm he learned in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the second year muttered the words that would let him see what spells were hidden in his view.

Thin red lines crisscrossed in every which way, covering the secret entrance and highlighted by further dark blue lines, lines he had to strain his eyes to see.

"Ah," Harry leaned back. "They've got a couple really good pain charms down there, as well as a spell that'll let them know if anyone's tried to go by."

Ginny's eyes widened, and she proceeded to look between the empty entrance and Harry in shock. "How'd you do that?" she finally asked.

"Magic," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well I know that, but seriously Harry."

He went back to the entrance and went ahead to start unbinding the spells. "I'll just cancel them out for a second," he narrated to her. "Just long enough for us to pass through. I'll have to do it again when we're coming back, but it's safer than taking the spells off altogether." As soon as he was done speaking, he was done with the magic, and he hurriedly grabbed her hand. "Come on, we've got to hurry."

Ginny nodded and the two descended into the darkened hall. Harry barely managed to grab the dragon's tail and yank it down with him before the spells were reactivated, and he let out a sigh of relief before grinning again.

"Lumos," Ginny whispered, her wand out, lighting the way before them.

Harry reactivated the charm, unsure of whether those two spells were the only ones the twins placed down here, and was rewarded with a spider web of magical traps. "Woah," he murmured quietly, looking around. "This will take a second."