Chapter 9

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There was nothing Harry could do but watch as his Uncle Vernon choked the life out of him, though he desperately wanted to laugh. Before Hogwarts he would have bet all the spiders in his cupboard that his Uncle would have been the one to do him in, and Voldemort be damned he was right. Harry wondered if that would be the bridge needed to bring Purebloods and Muggles together. Would Voldemort hail Vernon as a hero? Raise a toast in his honor perhaps? Probably not, but the thought was a hilarious one to go out on.

"Vernon! Have you gone mad man? Unhand that boy at once!" A voice shouted off in the distance.

"No! It all this freak's fault this is happening! I should have done this years ago!" Vernon sputtered, his face an extremely dark shade of purple.

"Hey asshole! Drop the kid or I'm going to use this branch to bash you're fucking brain in!" Adam shouted.

"You think I'm scared of you, pup? Why don't you stick that table leg up your own arse and find some other orphan to bugger." The distraction caused Vernon to loosen his grip a little. Harry was able to suck in the tiniest gasp of air, which helped to clear some of the fuzz out of his head.

Honestly, there wasn't any time to think of a clever way out of this, so Harry just went for the old reliable. He wound his leg back as far as he could and delivered his best football kick to the Dursley family jewels.

What that actually looked like was Harry swinging his foot enough to bump it into Vernon's thigh. The run to the church had taken everything out of Harry. He couldn't fight off a Pigmy Puff right now, much less his three hundred fifty-pound uncle.

Vernon rounded back on him, his mean little eyes narrowing into small slits. "You. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Harry just stared stonily ahead. He didn't quake in fear when facing the darkest wizard in history. He certainly wouldn't offer Vernon that courtesy.

"Everything I've worked for… all of it gone because of you! I should have done this the minute we found you on our doorstep," Vernon snarled as his two meaty hands clamped around his neck. Vernon squeezed, and all Harry could do was paw weakly at those iron grips. This was it. There was nothing left.

"I warned you you fat piece of shit!" Harry heard a whoosh then a meaty crack, causing Vernon to let out a vicious snarl.

Harry was sent floating until the crash, landing painfully on his hip. Rough, throaty coughs echoed out of him as a sharp pain shot up and down his leg. He glanced up, getting his eyes back on Vernon.

The man was an animal, swinging wildly at the younger American. Adam wasn't fazed by the action, ducking the haymakers while using the branch he wielded to deflect those strikes that he wasn't nimble enough to dodge. Vernon was quick to grow wise to his trick however, and those meaty fists moved to grab the branch that had been causing him so much trouble.

Adam was able to dance away from the first attempt, but then Vernon let out a roar and charged him. He was able to grab hold of the weapon, and Harry swore he heard the branch crack once his uncle grabbed hold. Both men began to wrestle over the weapon, but Adam was losing ground.

With another snarl and a jerk Vernon was able to throw Adam off and take the branch from him, following up with a brutal backhand that sent the American to the ground.

The church was silent, except for the heavy breathing of his uncle as he stood over Adam, the branch held firmly in one meaty grip. His Uncle then turned, his hateful little eyes locking onto Harry.

Harry didn't back down from that look. This was how Vernon always looked at him. And he wasn't that scared little boy who could be bullied into a cupboard anymore.

Vernon stalked over to him, raising the stick high.

"Finally."

"THIS IS A HOUSE OF GOD!" A voice thundered through the building, "And I will not let you desecrate this holy ground with your cruelty, Vernon Dursely!"

Harry traced the voice to a man standing atop the dais in front of the lectern. He was a stout man wearing a priest's habit with the sleeves rolled up to expose thickly muscled forearms. He had a bald pate and a salt and pepper beard with dark, weathered eyes that had a storm raging in them.

His footfalls were heavy as he walked down to stand amongst the pews. Each step carried the weight of his authority in this place. Vernon wavered, lowering his weapon, some part of him sensing a greater wrath in that man then anything he could muster. But he didn't back down just yet, whatever hate that still held him not ready to let go.

"Father, this-this freak has been a leech on me for all his life! Him and his kind… its intolerable! And now look at things, what him and his people have done!"

Vernon rounded on Harry again, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and shaking him, "Is this what you want boy? My food, my home, my family?! What's next, my life?! Well, not today boy! Not if I have a say in things!" The branch rose again.

"VERNON! UNHAND THAT BOY!" The building shook, forcing Vernon to obey. "I will not allow you to bring harm to that boy. Not anymore," The priest growled, putting a rough hand on the arm that held Harry, his dark eyes intently focused upon the large man.

Vernon, now in reach of the priest, was losing his nerve. Seeing them side by side it seemed odd that the priest was the shorter man when his authority filled the room twice over.

"What are you going to do, huh? I'm a Director at Gunnings! I've donated hundreds of pounds to this place. You- you work for me."

The priest, eyes harder than marble, squeezed at Vernon's arm, Vernon let out a yelp and release Harry yet again. In another move he spun the larger man, his large bulk seemingly nothing to the stout priest. Then he took one single step forward so that he was less than a nose away from the raving madman.

"Vernon, I don't care if you're the bloody Queen. You're in my house, a house entrusted to me by God Himself. Do you think that a few bits of paper make you greater than the Lord?"

Vernon wilted completely under the man's intense stare, whether by fear or by shame Harry couldn't say.

"I've seen outside, Vernon. We are no longer ruled by the laws of man. We now labor under the rules of God. And He is a wrathful One."

The Father let the implication hang in air. Vernon whimpered under the man's deadly stare.

"B-but you're a priest! You can't do anything to me!"

"Aye, I've given my life to the Lord. But I wasn't always a priest, Vernon. And I've watched, for years, what you've done to that boy. I will not stand by and let you lay another finger on him."

The priest had made his point. Vernon stepped away from Harry, head hung in fear of the stout priest. The Father was quick to move so that he stood between Harry and Vernon, stormy eyes never leaving the larger man.

"Deacon Riley! Be a lad and see Mr. Dursley to a room of his own down below. Bring the King James with you. Start with Psalms, then move on to Luke."

"Understood, Father." Spoke another man, older still than the Father with dark skin, a barrel chest, and a scowl to rival Snape at his most dour. He brought Vernon to his feet and lead him away through a door behind and to the left of the lectern.

It wasn't until Vernon was out of sight that Harry let out a breath of relief which lead to a painful round of hacking coughs.

"Father! I saw what happened—Harry? Oh my God, Harry?!" A curtain of blonde hair and shining blue eyes appeared over him. "Bloody hell, you made it! Are you okay? Who was that? What happened out there?"

Harry wanted to answer, but he owed his body a debt and finally, away from the creatures, and dementors, and his uncle it was finally time to pay. Harry heard the worried mash of words spoken by the Father and Daphne before a deep, lovely darkness claimed him.

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Harry had been awake for an hour when he realized he wasn't dreaming. His glasses were missing, his wand was gone, he was stripped down to his pants, and his body felt like a pulled muscle. He was breathing though and yes he was as surprised as anyone about this.

Honestly he was surprised he woke up at all. He'd bet all the gold in his vault that Dolohov would have been trying to stuff him in a box to gift to his master, but alas, not today it seems.

The door to the room he occupied creaked open.

Crap. Spoke too soon.

A shadow slipped into his room. Harry closed his eyes while opening his other senses. They were careful to close the door behind them before moving further into the room. He could just barely make out the sound of their bare feet slipping across the floor.

Harry made sure to control his breathing. You live in a dorm with a bunch of blokes, you learn real quick to be quiet at night lest you get dragged into some strange shenanigans. And yes, Harry was perfectly aware of the irony. The trick was diaphragmatic breathing, or in simpler terms, air goes all the way in, then all the way out.

The rouse seemed to be working. The shadow kept moving, ignorant of Harry's awareness. It was getting closer. Harry took another breath. It brought with it the faint traces of citrus.

"Daphne?" Harry creaked out.

"Harry? Harry! You're awake!" Next thing Harry knew the soft and surprising strong arms of his Slytherin classmate were wrapped around him, her head finding a place next to his so that her blonde hairs caressed his face while her torso rested very comfortably on top of his. While Harry was very, very glad for the attention his mouth just wouldn't listen to his brain.

"What are you doing here, Daphne? What happened?" Daphne sat up, giving Harry a concerned look. He thought. Without his glasses Harry couldn't much tell.

"Okay, um, well, this could be awkward. What's the last thing you remember?" Harry squinted, trying to focus his vision, because maybe this time, just maybe, his vision would finally clear up.

"Last I remember Uncle Vernon was trying to choke the life out of me until Father Prescott told him to put his tail back between his legs," Harry reached his hand to his left, hoping maybe someone was kind enough to leave his glasses nearby.

"Oh, sorry, hear," Daphne, bless her, reached over him again and placed the glasses in his hand so finally he could see again.

He was in a small room, dark, with four solid stone walls and a solid oaken door. It was plainly decorated, with a small table to his left that had his wand and a lamp resting atop it and a modest wardrobe to his right. Harry reached, pulling the small string attached to the lamp to let some light into the room, which allowed him to notice the picture of Jesus placed above the door that faced his bed as well as the chair that was situated next to his bed which Daphne claimed with a sign.

"So, no brain damage this time. That's good. Wait… did you say that was your uncle?!" Harry gave Daphne a wane smile.

"Yeah. Lovely chap, isn't he?" Harry shifted himself on the bed so that he was in a more comfortable sitting position, grunting all the way. Wow, did he hurt right now.

"Hey, take it easy. You've been through it today, Potter. Just lay back and get some rest."

"I'm already up. It'll be a bit before I can lay back down again. How long have I been down for anyway? And where's Dolohov?" Daphne gave him a confused look.

"Harry, you've been fighting all day using magics I could hardly dream of casting, much less back-to-back. Merlin's balls, you flew up into the sky to face a million dementor's with the brightest Patronus I've ever seen before getting hit by a bloody thunder bolt, not to mention almost getting throttled by your bloody uncle." Well, when you put like that…

"Harry, you should be dead." Daphne said with conviction and not a small bit of worry.

All Harry could do in response was shrug, "Its not the first time."

Daphne sat back, reflecting on Harry's words with a troubled expression. Harry gave her a moment to stew while he claimed his wand. A quick Tempus spell revealed that it was half past eight, meaning he'd been down for a little over two hours. Night would have fully fallen by now. A few thoughts of leaving passed through Harry's mind but were quickly discarded.

Travel by night with those creatures would be incredibly dangerous even if he was fresh. With only an invisibility cloak and no broom Harry didn't like his odds. Staying the night was the best option right now.

He had a bed and four solid walls, which was more than he could ask from the Dursley's growing up. It would do, as long as no wild death eaters wandered in.

"Daphne?" Harry asked, shaking her out of thoughts, "Where is he?"

"Oh, um, I wouldn't worry about him. He's locked himself away in another of the rooms. With all the dementors outside and all the muggles in here he decided to just lock himself away for now until things blow over."

Harry nodded. Maybe not to the muggle thing, but he sure could use with a few less dementors in his life at this point. Knowing he wasn't in immediate danger helped him to relax some. Daphne fell back into silence, and Harry was happy to join her. It really had been a long day and boy did he need a moment to unwind from it. Passing out from exhaustion didn't really count.

"Harry… is the Chamber of Secrets real?" Asked Daphne, lightly breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Uh, yeah?" Harry said, confused by the question.

"And you went down there?" Harry nodded. "And you found and fought a basilisk?"

"Kind of?" Harry replied, "Fawkes—Dumbledore's phoenix—did most of the work. He flew in just as it was slithering out of Salazar's statue- because of course he built a bloody statue of himself- and plucked out its eyes. After that it chased me around a bit until I managed to pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat. Then I just sort of slashed at it a couple of times until I was able to stab it through the mouth. I did mostly a rubbish job of it though since I got bite by it."

"You were bitten by the basilisk?" Daphne exclaimed, eyes wide, voice pitching up. Harry nodded his head, turning over his arm to show her his arm where a dark splotch remained as a reminder of the encounter. Hesitantly, Daphne reached out to touch the spot.

"Yeah, I would have been done for if it wasn't for Fawkes again. He healed me right up with some of his tears," and then Harry took that same fang and stabbed Riddle's diary, unknowingly destroying one of his precious horcruxes.

The cup. The locket. The snake. Something from Ravenclaw. Something from Gryffindor.

"That's… that's bloody amazing Harry. Unbelievable, really." Harry shrugged, long past caring whether people believed him at this point, though he didn't get that impression from her. It sounded more like she couldn't believe herself.

"Dumbledore even told us during the end of the year speech, but I didn't believe him then. None of us did."

"No one in Slytherin you mean." Daphne paused, giving him an odd look.

"You don't know do you?"

"Know what?"

"There are two versions of you Harry. There's the version of you that did the things you've done, then there's the Harry that everyone had to make up a story about because they don't know the truth. Has no one ever told you some of the rumors about you?"

"To be honest I've never really paid them much mind. After all the rumors spread about me during the tournament and those Rita Skeeter articles I kind of gave up caring what others thought about me." Daphne shook her head with a smile.

"What?" Harry asked.

"No, nothing. Its just rare to meet someone who actually thinks that way. Its kind of amazing." Harry shrugged again.

"Its either that or I go crazy. Nothing all that special," he said, offering Daphne a smile.

"Yes, because totally rational people catch a snitch with their mouth," Harry chuckled at the memory.

"Oh wow, I can't believe you remember that. It feels like such a long time ago now."

"Are you kidding me? It was historic! Never in all of Quidditch has there been a seeker with a gob big enough to catch the snitch like that." Daphne cheeked with a toothy smile. Harry offered a hearty chuckle in reply.

"Ah, well, bloody got me there. But let me ask you this Daphne, can the other Harry Potter do that?"

"Abso-bloody-lutely! Haven't you heard what an attention seeking prat he is?"

"Oh yes, once or twice, Said Harry, rolling his eyes. "But what else is he known for?"

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked, still smiling.

"What are the theories Daphne? I don't usually bother with them too much, but I might get a kick out of some of the more outlandish ones." Daphne took a moment to think on it.

"Hmm, sure. On one condition," Daphne said holding up a finger, "I tell you the theories if you tell me the facts."

"A trade? Alright Daphne, I can do that," Harry said, holding out a hand which she firmly shook. "So where would you like to start?"

"Well since I already brought it up, the Chamber. You already told me about the basilisk, but what I really want to know is what happened to Professor Lockhart…"

And so it went. Time passed, Harry wasn't sure how much, as they talked about Harry's adventures and the difference between what the school thought of him versus what had actually happened. According to the school he'd killed both Quirrell and Lockhart because they had annoyed the ever-loving piss out of him (not entirely wrong on one account). Another was that the reasons the dementors loved him in third year was because of the guilt he felt from the crimes he'd committed in the years prior. That or that maybe he wasn't Harry Potter at all but the Dark Lord having reincarnated.

"Wait, seriously? People thought I was bloody Voldemort?" Daphne shrugged.

"Oh, I know it sounds silly now, but you have to remember that at the time no one really knew what had happened between you two. There were all sorts of crazy theories about you before you even got to Hogwarts, but then the troll thing happened and things just took off from there."

"The troll thing… oh, yeah. I forgot about that." Of all the things he'd done so far, fighting a troll in a bathroom hardly seemed noteworthy anymore.

Daphne gave him an incredulous look. "Harry, you killed a troll. As a first year. Of course people's imaginations went wild!"

"Oh, no, we didn't kill the troll, we just knocked it out with its club, well, Ron did. All I did was jump on its back and jam my wand up its nose. Pissed it off rightly, but not much else."

Harry was met by silence from Daphne, followed by a very flat, "What?"

"Maybe I should start at the beginning?" Daphne nodded her head.

"Probably a good idea."

"Okay, well, it started with Ron being a right prat."

"Classic Weasley."

The night wore on much the same, with Harry sharing the truth of some of his Hogwarts adventures while Daphne peppered in the dreamed-up bits the masses had concocted. Harry remembered the laughter they shared, the jokes and the oddness that a bunch of bored students were able to come up with. What neither of them could remember was when Daphne migrated from the chair to the bed, or when the light was turned off, or when their arms found their way around each other.

Words had long trailed off as Harry and Daphne gazed at each other in the dark. Harry's glasses were back on the side table, long abandoned. He didn't need them anymore to see her. Daphne rested her forehead against his. Harry hugged her a little tighter. They were both a breath away from sleep, a breath away from something else.

But the day had been long, and both of them were quietly suffering from it, so for tonight the rest and the comfort the other provided would be enough. When Harry closed his eyes he fell into dreams immediately, but not of teeth and madness as he feared, but of the bubbly laughter and blue eyes of the girl that was quickly coming to dominate a part of his heart that he had promised himself he would close off.

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Another chapter done! How are y'all doing out there? Finished high school? College? Have kids? Hope you're all doing well. Time to get to work on the next chapter!