Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter
It was difficult, the awaking. Never in his life had he felt so drained – so tired – that he wished to embrace the cold shell of Morpheus and lie in restful bliss. The song of life was being sung in one ear then traversed into the other, and his form relaxed.
A genial chuckle came from directly opposite where he was sat comfortably.
"Well, Harry, I thought that our meeting this year could take place here rather than in Madam Pomfrey's overly maternal care."
Harry's blinked his eyes open, taking in the sight of Dumbledore's office. His instincts commanded him to react somehow, yet the familiar yet distant weight of Fawkes' soothing melody beside him allowed him to rest willingly.
"Sir," he said almost dreamily, "The Chamber. The attacks. She didn't mean to do it."
"I know, my boy, do not worry yourself."
"Is she going to be alright?"
Dumbledore chuckled lightly into his steepled fingers. "It truly does amaze me that someone can be so selfless in this world." Harry would have blushed, but instead resorted to a withdrawn countenance. "Miss Weasley is indeed fine. There may be a lasting issue with her mental state. Having the Dark Lord Voldemort attached to your mind, possessing her in such a manner, will be bound to leave at least a trace of malice.
"Miss Weasley wanted for me to extend her deepest apologies to you as well. Her wording may have been a great deal more frantic than my own, but I do believe that you understand the intent."
Harry was silent as he gathered his thoughts. "I don't blame her, sir. What that man does... he torments and does nothing but give pain. He..." A sob. "He tears people apart." Another. "What he's done to me, to others." Another. "I can't blame her when I know that she did not mean to do such evil things."
"Never have I been so proud, I think, of such a young mind, Harry. The actions that you have displayed this night. Your bravery is without question, and your heart is full of love, this I see, and this I know."
Harry's sobs felt so pathetic. The noises were grating on the ears, and his face appeared ugly with the mar of snot and tears. Yet never had he felt so relieved. The emotion he was feeling right then, in that office, was not something he could have ever comprehended. It was as though misery and euphoria had mixed to create this feeling inside him.
Dumbledore let him release all the feelings trapped inside of him. 'Harry Potter. You will be the best of all of us.'
"I am sorry, Harry, but I do need to discuss the events of your trip into the Chamber. I also believe that you may have questions of your own. I cannot promise to answer them all, just know that I will attempt to do so if possible."
Harry nodded his head as he slowly began to come down from his outburst, smiling widely at both his Headmaster and the softly trilling Phoenix on his right shoulder.
"Now, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have both told their side to the tale, truthfully I may add. They have therefore been punished severely for the actions the two have undertaken."
"They told you everything, sir?" Harry asked, his normal, soft, tone fluctuating slightly in surprise.
"Not in as many words as could be expressed, my boy. The truth came out, and as such, you will find Gryffindor 500 House Points less as well as their experiencing detention for the foreseeable future. Not to say anything of the tremendous guilt that they will live with. I am loath to remove then from this school for the wants and needs to help another, even if their actions were reprehensible, yet there will be more to the consequences of their actions, of this you can be assured.
"Nevertheless, I am aware of the fact that you were forcibly coerced to the path shouldered upon you."
Harry sunk into his chair, feeling the smooth, deep purple material bend like liquid as Fawkes maintained connection to his cheek with soft rumblings traversing from the phoenix to his ears. It was soothing – it established a grand calming effect that was driving out all negativity.
"How did you know where to find me?" The thought popped suddenly into his head as things began to catch up to him, and coherence appeared within him. "And the Sorting Hat," Harry nodded in the direction of the ratty hat, who moved ever so slightly back at him (What would you sacrifice?).
"Ah, that would truly be a mystery now, would it not?" Dumbledore not so subtly glanced at the portraits dotting the walls of the office, a slight smirk appearing. "Let us say that I have... friends in high places." A couple of snorts emanated from the frames and Harry took the hint.
"As for the Hat. Well, I had no opportunity to even contemplate such a thing. That," he gestured to the phoenix, "Was all performed by marvellous Fawkes there."
Harry reached up with his right hand, his arm bending so as to be able to reach the now bowing bird. "I can never thank you enough, Fawkes," he whispered into the heat of his feathers. His tears of appreciation were dissipating as they appeared to it.
"Such magnificent creatures, phoenixes. I think that the luckiest event in my life was my bonding with such a pure creature. And I count him amongst my closest of friends."
Harry simply looked at the bird in wonder.
"Now, Harry, I am about to ask of you something that I know will hurt. But I must know exactly what it is that happened in the Chamber. From start to finish."
Harry flinched, calmed immediately by the increase in volume from Fawkes. He took a deep breath and began his tale from when he and Lockhart had been separated.
Dumbledore listened intently, chin resting on his fingers while his eyes darkened with each sentence uttered by the boy in front of him. When Harry had finished his tale, Dumbledore sighed defeatedly and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Your actions are an addition to Miss Weasley's story. Tom Riddle's words to you and the battle with the Basilisk are the only inclusions. Harry, for two years you have been in my care within these walls. And now, for the second time, you have suffered when you should not." His skin appeared sallow, made clearer with the dark rings around his eyes, the sunken cheeks, and the face of age.
Harry sat, not making a sound. His mind was whirling, whizzing about at a mile a minute. It felt as if static was crushing his brain. Everything was becoming comprehended all at once. Quirrell. The Chamber. Snape. Malfoy. The Dursley's.
His lip began to bleed, and his left hand started to shake. When he looked down, he could see the ugly scar that now corrupted his pale flesh. He brought his hand up, still shaking, and peered down at the sight of his scars. 'Reflections of me,' he thought bitterly.
"Please, Harry, stop these thoughts of darkness. You will make Fawkes highly upset." They both cracked small, though fake, grins. "You will be rewarded for your actions, Harry, though I understand that it is no true consolation for what has happened. There will be, of course, a trophy awarded in your honour, as well as the addition of 700 House Points. It should be enough to counteract the losses that occurred recently.
"You will also be pleased to note that today is to be the day that the restorative solutions will be administered to the petrified victims." Harry's head shot up, his jaw slack and a glimmer of hope and joy combined emanated from him. "Yes, I had a feeling you would appreciate such a message."
Albus Dumbledore leaned back on his chair, his head tilted up as he idly drummed his fingers upon his armrest.
"What happened to the Sword, sir?"
"Ah... yes. The Sword of Gryffindor. Only a true Gryffindor could release that blade. And now it has served its purpose, it has sealed itself away, to be used only when it is needed."
Dumbledore paused, worrying his bottom lip, his hands fidgeting with his long beard. "I had earloer planned to communicate directly with your guardians prior to your return to their abode this summer. I do intend that this upcoming break from education may not be as troublesome as previously experienced. I know that nothing I can say, or do, may ever take back what has been lost in that house, but Harry, I swear to you that I will try everything in my power to make it right."
"I know that the wards are meant to keep me safe." Harry chewed the inside of his cheeks in nervousness; his stare was held at the beauty of the bird beside him as he contemplated his words. "But I'm not safe there. I hate it."
Dumbledore closed his eyes slowly, so to not show his true emotions. "I know." The quiet was deafening. "But I am afraid our time is up, for now, Mr Potter. I am about to have a guest, and I understand that you must be exhausted from your ordeal." The door opened abruptly with nary a knock or a hello. "And Harry, make sure to stop by Poppy at some point. She is most concerned and wishes to discuss how you will take these events from here on. She also wishes to tend to your arm. I must admit that I am concerned about it as well."
Harry had never really met Lucius Malfoy before, yet he could see the connection the man shared with his son. Sneer included.
Harry bid goodbye to his Headmaster, whose gaze hardened at the posturing of the senior Malfoy. The look of contempt the man gave him would have stung anyone else. 'I've had worse from worse men.'
His feet took him down the winding stairs, his mind moving at a speed unfathomable with he moved. Thoughts and images swirled in his brain, each and every one a war within himself. Until the singular feeling of completeness began to overcome him.
He had detached himself. The knowledge of the trials he had participated in were coalescing into a singular mass. Everything he had ever come up against forced an epiphany to consume his subconscious, allowing it to bleed into his waking mind.
What he had undergone would have broken most people older than him, but with each trial and tribulation, he was becoming someone, something, so much greater than he could ever fathom, or express in speech. Tempered he was, with the fires of destruction, and yet now he was becoming nurtured with the water of life, forming the one who is Harry Potter which dwells in the middle.
Neville, Fay, Katie, and everyone else. They were a part of him now, and with each spark of light that they brought to him, the shadows became thinner and thinner. Their eminence was what his hand was grasping for, and now he could almost see clear skies and a still ocean. The darkness had threatened him, both in the Chamber and out, but with each word spoken, and each action performed, he was becoming something great. Something so much more.
What had happened in the night will haunt him. It will test him as the thoughts came unbidden and incoherent. Flashes of emotion and images of hypotheses flooded his brain. But now, he was starting to cling on to hope. Hope that everything will be okay. Hope that everything will work itself out in the end. Never would he have thought this, but as everything was being played out for him, a switch was flipped, and he began to understand.
For too long he had hidden away, content to wallow in his own depression. But now, he tried to draw on the memories of what he felt when he was down there, the snake and he dancing in the dark.
'I don't want to die.' Those five words echoing in his head. Again, and again, they repeated. 'I don't want to die.' And he didn't. Not anymore. Now, he had things to live for, and now, he had something worth fighting for. He was not lying to the Hat when he answered it. He would sacrifice everything. As he pulled the sword out and held it in front of him, the response was finished: 'I would sacrifice everything because I have something to live for.'
"Harry Potter," exclaimed a squeaky voice from below, startling him out of his inner musings.
Harry's glance transformed to a glare as he took in the mischievous House Elf that had caused him so much hassle this year.
"Dobby." He was cordial at least. He frowned as he warred inside; Professor Flitwick had sat him down and explained exactly what the House Elf bond entails, yet the cuts, bruises, and bandages littering the tiny form was unsettling and left a poor taste in his mouth. He knew that he should empathise with the plight of the enslaved beings, and he did, but Dobby had tried to, and succeeded, in harming him.
Dobby's long ears drooped, and his fishbowl eyes clenched shut tightly. Harry sighed deeply as he crouched down to his level - even his own small form towered over him.
His knees cracked and his back ached. His left eye twitched as the soreness engulfed him. 'I think I need to see Pomfrey. I should probably take Dumbledore's advice.'
"Dobby," he croaked, "If I give you this, expect Malfoy to throw it away. You need to catch it." His tone was calm. Dobby's head was flapping up and down with his hands covering his mouth so as not to interrupt. Harry took off his tie, scrunched it into a ball and drew out his wand.
'Please work,' he chanted to himself, his wand twirling as he spoke the incantation. "Charta Mutatio."
The scraps of idle fluff he had in his pockets coalesced into a large sheet of parchment. Grinning, Harry took his tie and placed into the middle of the sheet, then scrunched it up into a ball. Dobby stared, slack-jawed, as realisation and hope began to sink in.
Harry slid backwards on his heels, hitting the cool, stone wall next to the Guardian Grotesque protecting Dumbledore's office. Dobby nestling in the spot next to him, copying his actions as if to perform an element of flattery.
Harry's legs stretched out, his left hand coming up to brush away his fringe as he checked on his glasses – once again cracked. He quickly performed the repairing charm and started checking out his new addition. Dobby peered over the top of his opposite arm, flinching when he spotted the horrendous new scar.
"Dobby is sorry for Harry Potter."
Harry simply shook his head and refused a response. He was tired and wriggling in anticipation. 'There has been too much evil. Now, there will be something good.'
The guardian span, revealing a descending Lucius Malfoy, clanking his cane on the cobbled steps. A grim visage greeted the two of them, and Harry knew it to be his cue to enact his plan.
"Mr Malfoy, sir," he called out to the man who did not even deign to give him a second glance. The blond man turned, a sneer on his lips. "I don't know if you would want this."
Malfoy senior caught the balled-up parchment with his free hand on reflex. "I think that the events of the evening has addled your mind more than before, Potter."
Lucius had thrown the ball underarm back at Harry, and that was when Dobby struck.
The look he released would form the first shared smile for Harry and Dobby together. Harry had ended his adventure with a good deed done.
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Harry hated it. His second year had ended completely, and now he was awaiting the carriage to end its short journey back to Hogsmeade Station.
Inside were the Weasley twins, and his now glued-to friend, Katie.
Harry had travelled directly to the Hospital Wing after freeing Dobby the House Elf if in part to escape the utter fury of the man who once owned him. He had walked through the double doors to the scene of Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape administering the Restorative Draughts to the Basilisk's victims. He also spotted waves of red hair at the end of the room.
Mr and Mrs Weasley had near-sprinted over to him, with Arthur patting him on the shoulder and a crushing hug from Molly. To his pride, he had only seized up for a few seconds, before relaxing slightly; there was no comfort in the embrace, however, but he did not freeze in unbidden fear as he originally would have done.
The two of them had been blubbering messes as they thanked him incoherently. Harry was grateful when the school nurse shooed them off the moment she spotted his arm.
"Mr Potter, how on Earth did you get this?" she screamed into his ear.
If Harry had not have known that this was to be his greeting, he could have temporarily relapsed into his old ways – especially with Snape hovering in the background mixing in with the events of the night.
"Err, Basilisk, Madam Pomfrey."
"A WHAT?!" she screeched.
"It's okay though, really, Fawkes – Professor Dumbledore's phoenix – healed me with his tears. I'm fine, really." He bent his arm back and forth to show that he was, indeed, alright.
Snape looked an unhealthy shade of red and green, turning away from him to continue giving the healing potions to the victims. It seemed as if Alicia was to be the first one to recover.
"Never you mind, Potter, come over here." She dragged him over to a bed - "Your bed, Mr Potter. I reserve it for you now with the frequency of your visits" - and started her examination of his arm.
When she found no evidence of any short-term damage, aside from the vicious-looking scar, she let him be next to Katie as she was revived, along with a groggy Alicia.
"Harry?" she wept. Her loose grip on his hand tightened as her other hand grabbed onto his shirt collar. She tried to pull him down, but her body was too weak after so long in a petrified state. Harry knew what she wanted, as he craved it too.
He lowered his upper body to the side of the bed, his arm coming up to fold across her body, while her arms encircled his neck. She managed to pull him so that his head rested in the crook of her neck, and Poppy Pomfrey decided that the two required some privacy for their emotional reunion.
She closed the curtains around them, blocking them from sight as a weight landed on the other side as Alicia initiated a hug of her own, bringing three emotional friends together to exert their sadness and their joy.
Harry could not bring himself to fully explain what had occurred in the Chamber of Secrets. Such memories still fresh in his mind brought feelings of shame and powerlessness to the forefront. However, it turned out he would not need to do so, as several days later, when the three of them returned to thunderous applause in the Gryffindor Common Room, a fractured tale had already been spun which gave half-truths and speculations. All they seemed to know were three things: Lockhart was dead, Harry had fought a Basilisk and survived, and somehow Harry was involved with freeing Malfoy's House Elf.
He had run directly to his room, avoiding the well-wishers and starstruck groupies who clung to him as if he were their messiah. The door slammed shut while sticky sweat clung to his skin and his breaths became more and more laboured.
'I'm just Harry. I'm just Harry.'
Ron was laying on his bed, and the boy could not even look at him. There was a whispered apology and that was all, but all Harry could think when he saw him, was his inability to escape the situations that dragged him further and further in the depths of despair. All he wanted was for an escape, to free his life from the bonds of misery and now-
The door had opened, letting in his Circle, and both physically and mentally, they established a protective barrier around him. Their eyes were soft and caring, their touches gentle and soothing. Then it was all okay. The demon was removing itself from his person, dissipating into the air, and the angelic choir hit him with full force.
They comforted him. Harry was struck at the lengths these people would go for him, and all he could think about was how lucky he was. How amazing his life was, thanks to these people.
They talked tenderly, enjoying slow banter as they lingered amongst the bad memories and poor judgements. For Harry was beginning to see what had been gripping him for so long.
Here was his home.
Every day he stepped away from this, from these actions, from these people, he was stepping one foot away from a life he desired above all things. The Chamber was a horrific nightmare that he knew he could never recover from, but he was starting to see now that he no longer had to endure the shades of night that dimmed his soul alone again. What he would remember from down in the pit of darkness and blood, was his need for this connection.
Each day after, as the clock ticked down to the final minute he would spend in the castle, he would make sure that each of these people who had captured a sliver of his heart, were to be immortalised in his memories. For so long he believed he was nothing, worthless unless someone wanted something off him. But how could he say that when Fred and George would smile when he laughed, when he and Neville would have their friendly banter, when he and Fay would sit in content silence and enjoy the view during their Astronomy lessons, when Katie would hold him tight and he could listen to her calming heartbeat.
Now, sitting there as the carriage swayed, he hated it. Because he was beginning to bare his soul to others, and he was addicted. Now he knew instead of imagined, he sought this feeling to remain. And now... it was going to disappear.
Harry was changing, and it was for the better.
He was silent during the train ride back; not the whole journey, but enough to allow him to observe and memorise these people.
He took in their faces, their speech, and their mannerisms. He memorised their laughs and the way that Angelina's eyes would crinkle with mirth whenever she looked at George. He saw how Neville was not the same shy boy he met almost two years ago – brought out of his shell the same as he was.
Fred was on his left, arm wrestling against Oliver Wood who they had cornered in to their compartment by plying him with chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties.
Fay was on his right, arm laying on his own as her other hand absently stroked his new scar; the girl had nearly had a fit when she saw it during the first Hospital visit. She had wept and refused to let him go, lest he escape from her clutches and does something to harm himself further.
"Harry, please, PLEASE, don't do something like that again, do you hear me?" she half-shouted into his chest.
"Fay, I didn'-"
"No, stop. Stop right there." Her nose was almost touching his own. He hand came up to trace his scar and Harry wondered when exactly he had starting relaxing enough to let this happen. "Just because you're Harry Potter, does not mean those bad things have to be accepted. I care about you too much to just let you kill yourself because you don't care."
She had become more clingy after that, not that she wasn't touchy-feely previously to him and Neville, but it almost seemed as if she turned around he would vanish from her life. He was more than touched, and only reinforced the intent that had developed to not just survive, but instead, live.
Katie was across from him, arms folded under her chest as she rolled her eyes at whatever Alicia was saying to her. The good-natured smile showed that her kindness had not diminished since her stay in the Hospital Wing. She noticed that Harry was looking at her, and winked over to him, beaming radiantly at him which, for a reason he could not understand, made his face hot and cheeks red.
Katie replicated the same image after looking at him, mirroring the shaky smile that arose when they realised they had been staring at each other intently. Harry diverted his attention to the arm wrestling beside him as he popped an ash flavoured Bertie Bott bean into his mouth, while Katie nudged Ginny Weasley next to her and engaged her in conversation.
There was no bad blood between them. They trusted Harry's judgement after Ginny burst over to him one day to both thank and apologise profusely. They had been understanding, and her brothers, ashamed.
They all knew that Ginny would most likely never be the same again after her year-long ordeal. But she was now in safe hands, even if she was now irrevocably and totally in love with her hero. Harry may not have understood the worship she proffered to her saviour, but Katie let it be known immediately how adorable it was. Though her voice had grown tight, and her face hard, she still opened her arms and embraced the girl, welcoming her in as they had done for him.
Things were starting to settle now, and as the train came to a slow, then a final stop, Harry knew that the darkness would not last forever. The sunrise is always over the horizon, and he will be there waiting to accept the coming dawn.
Author's Notes
So apparently, a gargoyle is only a gargoyle when it has a spout to direct rainwater away. Everything else is seemingly a grotesque. But if someone can give me any information about how true or not this is, I would much appreciate it.
And the Chamber has changed Harry. When you are forced into the darkness after tasting the light, you never want to go back. I had to have the events of the Chamber occur here so that Harry would have this mental change deep inside. He has strength, he just was not aware of it. I know that the events of the Chamber could have been altered in this altered reality, but it isn't my intention to change things so that it is completely unrecognisable. The end goal is still the same i.e. the Chamber, and in the future, the Triwizard Tournament as examples. Yet the way that Harry gets there will be long and bumpy, with a different ending than the original.
Things have already started to change this year – Katie and Alicia petrified, as well as Lockhart's death. Trust me on this – there will be more changes made.
How Harry acts will now reflect his developing emotions as his weaknesses begin to be drowned by his burgeoning strength. Those of you who dislike how 'weak' Harry is emotionally, will appreciate this. It won't be a quick fix, nothing ever is, but I'm sure you will have less to complain about. Harry needs to earn his strength. Cannot say exactly why yet though. Spoilers and all.
And so Book 2 ends.
Next Chapter: An Attempt to Escape