Chapter 13

September 7, 1991

On an early Saturday morning just outside the Great Hall, a pair of alert green eyes rapturously gaze at the most intricately molded door surround.

At the topmost portion are two roughly triangular spaces known as a spandrel where their interior area contains four quatrefoils of varying size. The latter is characterized by having a distinct four leaf clover appearance. Throughout history and across many lands whether in art, design, or architecture it became symbolic for good luck.

Alone each of these elements are aesthetically pleasing. Together they are even more so since their spacing forms a mirror image and causes the eye to linger on its perfect symmetry.

Of course spandrels can't exist without being adjacent to an arch. Along the arch's underside are four awe-inspiring archivolts where each curved concentric band slightly overhangs more than the last which creates an imposing three dimensional effect. A total of eight engaged columns with four on either side of the archivolts naturally direct one's gaze down and eventually towards the massive, triangular arched double doors.

In contrast to the stone around it, each door is made from oak and incredibly embellished with finely crafted motifs from all four houses. Just above eye level, the Gryffindor and Slytherin crests appear on the left door with its corresponding animal as a roaring lion and hissing serpent respectively. Similarly on the right door, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw crests have a badger raised on hind legs and a raven in flight respectively.

Without a doubt, the sum of all parts coalesce into a worthy precursor for the Great Hall.

Harry stands silently and simply basks in admiration for the unknown architect responsible for designing this institution. With his focus wholly devoted on scholarly pursuits over the past week, he didn't have the luxury of indulging in his hobby of medieval architecture or even exploring the castle for hidden or long forgotten secrets. Now he can properly take in the quasi-gothic elements that weren't particularly prevalent in Europe until the mid-12th century to the 16th century. The architect must have been a prolific traveler in order to incorporate them in the late 10th century.

Whilst immersed in his thoughts, Harry feels the unmistakable shift of magical eddies emanate from the heavy double doors not three meters away and as if under their own volition they slowly swing open. If not for his association with the Consortium behind the scenes and covertly partaking in their unique brand of manipulation, then he would have remained entirely ignorant to the dispelling of previously active charms barring entry along with a few others.

No more than a minute passes before the remaining eddies fully dissipate thereby preventing any further sensing. Absentmindedly, he checks his wrist watch and verifies the time down to the second as 07:01:06 a.m. The strangely short practice time immediately catches him off guard. It's almost as if the magic was somehow sucked away.

A fleeting thought of the Consortium's clandestine practice of absorbing residual and latent magic from all who pass through Diagon Alley crosses his mind. The former occurs with every use of accidental, wandless, or foci directed acts as no method has perfect efficiency which leaves some percentage to linger in the air. The latter is emitted by all magical beings, plants, and objects. Originally both were collected in order to power the expansion runes of the outdoor training ground which required a large, steady source of magic. Eventually the discovery of variscite made it obsolete, however, the collection process never stopped and is being stored in precious gems.

This can't be a coincidence. Perhaps the Hogwarts' founders did something similar.

A quandary for another time because today calls for the delights of exploration.

Finally stepping inside one of the most memorable and more frequently visited rooms within Hogwarts, Harry momentarily gazes upon the Enchanted ceiling before seating himself at the Ravenclaw table. With countless opportunities to examine this room at a later date, he waits a few seconds anticipating a delicious hearty breakfast.

But no breakfast appears, not even after five minutes or several requests.

Luck intervenes as four students sleepily stagger into the hall and congregate around him. Instantaneously upon sitting, a bevy of breakfast platters, carafes, cups, plates, and utensils appear.

Greetings go unnoticed as Harry inwardly seethes in outrage. Just as Anthony Goldstein, Lisa Turpin, Sue Li, and Isobel MacDougal all begin loading their plates, he abruptly stands and strides from the hall. As the windows reduce in frequency and surroundings grow darker, a destination in the dungeons becomes more obvious. Driven by righteous anger, faint calls of his name and a rhythmic pattern of feet echoing down the stone corridors easily go ignored, but eventually someone yanking on his arm from behind ends any forward advance.

Harry whirls around already armed with a wand in hand pressed against the offender's neck.

Tony gulps loudly in fear and unsteadily steps back all the while staring at the wand's ominously glowing dark red tip.

The prior angry haze slightly recedes upon recognizing each of his friend's frightened faces. In deliberate slowness, Harry stows away his wand.

"I apologize for turning my wand against you. It certainly wasn't my intention to give anyone a fright. Perhaps, it would be best if you guys gave me some space and we can hang out later."

At first, none of the words engender a response beyond mute staring until he requests space.

Then Sue tentatively approaches and places a light reassuring palm on his forearm. She softly says, "I don't think that's a good idea. Obviously something is bothering you to have caused such a reaction. Tell us and perhaps we can help."

Though tempted to share his burdens, he isn't sure whether the irregularity which happened earlier is linked to his biggest secret or possibly a weird, inconsequential fluke.

In the end, uncertainty stalls his tongue and Lisa obviously feels spurred enough to press ahead when he remains quiet. "No pressure, you aren't obligated to share. We'll be here to listen whenever you like. But, we're definitely coming with you. Friends shouldn't be left alone to suffer in silence."

Without a blink, Isobel unequivocally agrees with Lisa. They both send impressive dark glares upon noticing Sue and Tony's disgruntled looks. Over the past week, those two have revealed an insatiable curiosity in unraveling mysteries. Not surprisingly, quite a few surround him. Luckily this scene doesn't devolve any further as both expressions transform from mulish to shame and eventually reassurance.

It is only this combined mutual expression along with an understanding to respect boundaries which alters his prior decision to remain mum.

Harry gestures further down the corridor. "May as well chat on the way."

In less than half a dozen steps, Sue questions, "So where are we headed?"

"To the Kitchen where House Elves prepare meals."

With the destination made known, everyone seems even more confused than before.

"My anger a few moments ago was not unwarranted. Well before any of you arrived, I started this morning in great spirits. Then, I sit down anticipating a quick breakfast and continuing on my merry way. Nothing happens. Thinking a polite request may lead to a different outcome, I try out one after another in slightly different worded variations and even expanding to other food options, the minutes pass and still the table remains bare. It also crosses my mind that maybe I am too early and food simply can't be served yet. A reasonable explanation if not unlikely. So imagine my surprise when only your mere presence is enough for food to appear. Needless to say, my temper snaps!"

Not deterred by his rising tone of voice, Lisa declares, "On all accounts, the frustration is understandable. Though I don't see a connection which explains your level of anger towards the House Elves."

"The House Elves won't serve me. Today isn't an isolated incident."

Sue is already shaking her head in disagreement. "Now you're making a mountain out of a molehill. One example isn't exactly irrefutable proof."

Finally having regained his equilibrium, Tony enters the conversation, "Yeah, we've shared all of our meals together and not once were you excluded from eating."

Harry sighs in annoyance before continuing, "I'm not talking about food anymore or what happened earlier this morning. House Elves really don't like me. At first, I thought Kreacher was simply old and hateful, but now I know for sure that his behavior isn't an outlier."

"Wait, back up a second. We need more context like who is Kreacher and what makes you think House Elves in general hate you?" asks Isobel.

As requested, Harry gives background information, "For a time prior to Hogwarts, I was under the care of my muggle relatives. It was not an ideal living situation. Later, circumstances changed and stars aligned allowing me to stay with my godfather's family, the Blacks. At one of their properties, I encountered a House Elf for the first time and his name is Kreacher. Upon introduction and with no provocation, he attacked me by launching a heavy antique credenza. Luckily, Kreacher's mistress intervened thus saving me from injury. He made a few more unsuccessful attempts to inflict harm before threats of presenting him with clothes finally put a stop to it. That was nearly four years ago and while not blatantly combative he won't serve me either unless commanded to do so from someone else."

Staring unseeingly before him, Harry continues, "On day one, Hogwart's House Elves singled me out by refusing to retrieve my trunk from the train. Luckily, Professor Flitwick intervened by summoning it, but in all of his years as a professor he can't remember a single instance of something like this ever occurring. Certainly sounds strange to me. Then the dust hasn't even settled and less than a week later, another incident arises today. They ignore my presence and promptly acknowledge yours. There's no doubt in my mind that the House Elves are sending a message and it doesn't need to be any clearer. They don't like me."

Any additional words fade upon catching sight of a giant fruit bowl painting. In a synchronous movement, the others come to a stop confusedly in semicircle just behind Harry.

Just as he extends a finger to tickle the huge green pear, two House Elves wearing stained threadbare pillowcases apparate on either side of the painting. Though diminutive in stature with spindly arms and legs, both beings stand aggressively as if poised and ready to attack.

With a fierce penetrating stare, the one on the left growls, "You not be welcome here, snatcher!"

The last word cools his anger leaving only an unsettling fear in its wake. Withheld from the story told earlier was the name Kreacher viciously calls him.

'How does it know that name?! Have they been in contact with one another?'

He isn't given another spare moment to panic as the House Elf snaps it's fingers.

Harry winces as a wave of cutting foreign magic assaults his senses. Unbidden he recalls how the locking charm felt when released from the double doors earlier this morning, and though obviously not quite the same he knows without needing to be told that the door has been locked.

A raspy voice from the right curtly says, "Never be coming back here."

Then it points down the corridor in which they came. Unspoken words to leave hang in the air.

Not daring to turn his back, he wearily withdraws and deftly maneuvers around his immobile friends. Unwilling to utter a word, he drags Lisa and Tony backwards which snaps Sue and Isobel out of their stupor. Even with the ever growing distance, the two House Elves keep a firm eye on him.

Just as he begins to break the line of sight by turning a corner, the same House Elf who last spoke delivers an ominous message.

"You be meeting him later."

Then both immediately apparate away.

Deja vu swamps Harry upon feeling the familiar sensation of being unbalanced just like several nights earlier during the opening feast. Deep within his bones, he knows that 'him' can only refer to the Sorting Hat. Round and round his mind drifts on when this inevitable confrontation will occur as later is simply too ambiguous to interpret with any surety.

Then Tony angrily shrieks, "Harry, what in the world was that?"

At a loss for words, he stumbles out, "I...I can't. Just forget about it."

"Are you freaking kidding me?"

"No, this has nothing to do with you."

Tony's eyes narrow in frustration and he obviously shifts tactics going by his next words.

"Whatever just happened wasn't normal. For the most part, House Elves are congenial, deferential, and above all exceedingly subservient. And, apparently something about you makes them act out of character. So again, what was that?"

Harry numbly stares at Tony all the while thinking that this was a mistake. He should have never caved and taken them along with him.

"You're not going to say anything?"

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

"We're going round in circles. My answer won't change."

Tony looks accusingly at the rest. "None of you have anything to say?"

Lisa wearily opines, "Yes, this is beyond strange and I'll admit there's a burning curiosity to learn why, but Tony we all decided to tag along for support. You can't pressure someone into confiding when they aren't ready to talk."

He huffs in indignation. "You're okay hanging out with someone called a snatcher?! Well, I'm not. If you're smart, then you won't either."

"Please just drop it."

"I'm done listening to pointless drivel."

Tony angrily marches away.

The silence stretches until Sue lowly asks, "I can't find fault with anything that he said. What are you hiding Harry?"

A moment passes before Sue resolutely follows after him.

Harry sighs looking off to the side while waiting to see how Lisa and Isobel react. Instead of walking away they both step in front of him with earnest faces.

Lisa asserts, "I'm sticking with what I said earlier. Share when you're ready and don't leave a friend behind."

Isobel playfully tacks on, "What she said."

Delaying thoughts of doom and gloom for another time, Harry allows a true smile to bloom. He happily offers both ladies an arm and asks, "How about we finally get some breakfast, huh?"

The ladies chuckle in response and intertwine their arms with his before walking away in the beginnings of a steadfast friendship.

By the time they arrive, most of the castle's inhabitants have risen to break their fast in the Great Hall.

Tony and Sue are seated relatively close by to the entrance along with Michael Corner and Mandy Brocklehurst. All four send Harry sour, suspicious looks. It is quite disappointing that the latter two didn't respect him enough to at least speak directly before choosing a side. Ultimately, their actions dictate that none are worth his notice and so he relegates them from a probationary friend to mere acquaintance.

Surprisingly, Padma Patil and Terry Boot are together though seated far from the other group. Terry buoyantly waves them over. The three seat themselves across the table with Harry directly opposite Terry.

After speedily exchanging greetings, Lisa draws the two in a side conversation and succinctly imparts the happenings from earlier. Neither react negatively. Though this may be because Padma has an abrasive personality and wasn't particularly well liked by the others whereas Tony and Michael for whatever reason typically excluded Terry.

Conversation slows as almost everyone happily partakes in the fare. All except Harry who closely scrutinizes each offering laden on the table. Instead of extending his arm towards a serving utensil, he removes a small grey stone from his pocket and places it on the table. His immediate companions, bitter acquaintances, and a few others curiously watch as he double taps the surface. Within seconds, it quickly grows in size to about 30 x 30 cm. On the bottom left corner, he presses his right index finger on an engraved symbol which resembles a quill laying upon a rolled parchment. The stone exudes a faint golden light before fading and revealing the aforementioned items.

Harry picks up the quill and immediately begins writing on the parchment.

Terry remarks, "I'm pretty sure you had already mentioned it, but I was too far away to actually hear everything. What exactly is that?"

"This handy dandy stone piece is called a Grail. Behind this plain exterior lies a unique lightweight, storage unit. The inconvenience of lugging a heavy cumbersome bag or even making repeated trips to the dorm becomes obsolete. Everyday items like quills, parchment, books, or other school equipment are easily found as they're stored in their own clearly marked zones. There's even one for completed assignments."

In a rapid-fire manner which exudes amazement, Terry asks, "Is there a max capacity of items? How long can you store items? Do they deteriorate over time? Can you put food inside?"

Harry grins mirroring Terry's enthusiasm. "Today there's a finite amount of space, and I wouldn't store items beyond a week. At the moment, I hadn't considered storing food items, but I could certainly see the benefits. Perhaps one day more could be possible, but only after extensive research and experimentation."

"Oh my goodness!"

"What?"

"All week I've been hoping to buy one. I can't though because it isn't on the market is it?"

Lisa, Isobel, and Padma look between the two in confusion waiting for someone to respond.

Isobel finally tires and nudges Harry.

"No, you won't find the Grail for sale in any store. I made it for my own personal use."

All of their eyes blow wide in shock.

Padma scoffs in disbelief, "Really, you expect me to believe that an eleven year old kid could make one of those?"

A small friendly smirk graces Harry's face to show that he didn't take offense. "Believe what you like, but age doesn't preclude expertise, ingenuity, or tenacity. Also, I left out the best feature. Do you want to hear or should I keep it to myself?"

Despite being an obvious goading tactic, her curiosity wins out so she begrudgingly nods.

"The Grail is worth a hundred times its weight in gold because it doubles as a library. Simply scan the pages of a book and later read whichever one you like at your leisure."

Padma looks unsure on whether to believe his claims.

Using an index finger, Lisa twirls a brown lock of hair. "Any chance you'd gift a Grail for a friend?"

The others wait as if on tenterhooks for his response.

"Probably not, the materials are quite pricey. Anyways, enough chit-chat. I'm starving and this spread isn't going to cut it."

Terry chimes in, "Man, I swear everyday is like a feast for the gods!"

"Hmm, this so-called ambrosia is only fit for a god." While Harry looks at the food in faint disgust, he pinpoints a few dishes and verbalizes how each lack nutritional value. "Indulge sparingly or risk a shortened lifespan."

Padma finishes swallowing a bite of cereal before waving her spoon in the air. "Your tune sure has changed over the last week. I don't recall you falling out from a hunger strike and visiting the Hospital Wing."

Harry quickly replies, "Extenuating circumstances no longer apply."

Then he turns toward Lisa. "I wanted to ask for a favor. So you know my situation with..." while waving towards the table and alluding to the House Elves.

Through the gossip mill, it's likely that before long everyone will be aware of his predicament. Still holding it off as long as possible is preferable. She catches on quickly and nods in understanding.

"I need an intermediary for my daily meal requests across breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Take a look at this parchment and let me know if you're agreeable with saying it aloud word for word."

He hands it over.

╳ Parchment Request Starts ╳

Tomato and Cucumber Salad

First rinse under cold water and then chop the following: 4 large tomatoes, 1 large cucumber, 1 cup red onion, 1 cup green pepper, and 1/3 cup fresh parsley. Mince 2 garlic cloves. Transfer everything to a large mixing bowl then add 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar, 1 tablespoon olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and 1/2 teaspoon sugar. Toss several times.

Green Tea

Boil a quart of water. Add 1 tablespoon of loose tea leaves. Steep for at least 10 minutes. Strain the loose leaves through a mesh sieve or cheesecloth. Chill and serve immediately.

1 Slice of Whole-Grain Rye Toast

1 Large, Hard-boiled Egg

╳ Parchment Request Ends ╳

It doesn't take long for Lisa's expressive face to easily betray her surprise and disbelief.

Harry preempts whatever she intends to say. "It's pretty tame and not very lengthy especially since I struck out the three ingredient chia seeds snack which does take more prep time. So what's the problem?"

She leans across him to pass the parchment so Isobel can read it too. "Isn't this going a little overboard?"

Isobel merely shrugs her shoulders upon reading it then continues looking around the hall in slight boredom.

Padma pointedly clears her throat. "I hate being left out of the mix. Isobel handover the parchment."

Isobel rolls her eyes before complying. Similarly Intrigued, Terry leans over Padma's shoulder to read along.

Harry utters, "I don't know how my dietary preferences became the topic of conversation, but I'm still starving so a clear cut assent or denial would be nice."

Before Lisa can respond, Padma interjects, "Poor Harry, this timid little bunny is too uncomfortable to say no. I could be persuaded to ignore the minor inconvenience of reading your requests this term for the right price."

A quick glance at the one in question sporting mild embarrassment confirms the truth in her statement.

"And, what would that be?"

"Information of course on how you completed assigned homework from each class on the same day? Then, I want you to help me do the same."

Harry mentally calls out 'Check' as if he were playing chess then chuckles in amusement.

"No deal. Minor inconvenience or not you merely have to read a script aloud that any seven year old could do. On the other hand, I would need to disclose a rather valuable obscure art and also devote massive amounts of time in training you. That's not equitable at all."

By this point, intrigue is clearly written on the entire group's face including Isobel and few others sitting on the fringe.

With apparent ease, Harry alone has managed to free up the entire weekend whilst all the other Ravenclaw first years struggle to process lecture notes, go through primary as well as secondary readings, and finally condense everything into the most salient points for a concise articulate essay. None can believe their luck that somehow an arbitrary conversation has led to the secret of his success.

In a strong position of power, he decides to counter with a more advantageous offer, at least for him.

"However, if all of you agree to read the requests verbatim for all meals through the first term or until I no longer require your services, then I will identify the art plus reading material for self-study."

Out of the four, Padma is the most quick witted and narrows her eyes upon discerning the difference with what she originally requested versus his counteroffer.

"Without training, there is no guarantee that this art will be of benefit to us."

"There is no easy button. If you aren't willing to work for it, then why should I waste my time?"

"Come on, give us a break. We're already swamped with a large workload."

"Well I guess that means you have to weigh whether the long-term gains are worth it."

After a moment of consideration, Padma sulkily concedes. "Fine, we have a deal."

The others soon acquiesce.

"Wonderful. One of you can read my requests aloud now. Later today we can go outside by the lake and I'll relay details away from nosy eavesdroppers."

Further down the table, Tony and Sue lament that their change in friendship occurred before Harry's big reveal.

An endless looming black expanse. Neither light nor sound can pierce it. No other life form, but a single solitary existence. Each second stretches into eternity. As hope leeches away, first fear doggedly encroaches and then there's only an uncontrollable gnawing chill of loneliness. Wholly bare and vulnerable without a single stitch of clothing so truths long ignored, but never forgotten can finally exact their toll. Sharp rolling pains fed by grief, regret, and guilt. Faces from another world left behind. Dreams from a past life left unfinished. Unwittingly rewriting someone else's destiny so everything they did and could do is left erased. Escaping is impossible, but even if it were, what is the alternative?

Harry launches forward in bed alternating between large deep breaths and slowly releasing them in an attempt to calm his racing heart. With every inch of skin drenched in sweat, he wrenches the covers off allowing cool air to relieve the stifling heat. Gradually the panic induced frenzy from his recurring nightmare wanes.

Nearly four years since entering this new plane of existence, yet he hasn't made peace with letting go of the life he once held and accepting his current reflection as not belonging to another.

A noise from the bed's left side catches his attention. Not more than a minute after calming his heart, it skyrockets again in fright. Less than a meter and half away, a House Elf silently stands in the dark.

Unable to fight the impulse, he scrambles backward.

All the while, unnerving bulbous eyes stare unblinkingly before a raspy voice whispers, "He be expecting you. The body snatcher be coming with me now. No funny business or else."

Then a small wrinkly hand extends towards him.

The unwelcome appellation is a pretty good hint, but better safe than sorry.

In a normal tone of voice, Harry says, "Who is expecting me?"

With surprise, he realizes that none of his roommates rise or shift in bed. In the past, Michael has been an incredibly light sleeper who angers easily if anyone disturbs his sleep. He contemplates whether something to the effect of a silencing charm is being used and wants to sense for confirmation, but fears that the attempt will leave him vulnerable.

Before he decides, the House Elf viciously retorts, "You be resisting?"

"No, I am not resisting. Simply tell me who sent you."

As soon as those words cross his lips, he knows that it was a mistake. Unseen waves of menace emanate from the small House Elf.

"Wait, -"

Any further words cut-off as the House Elf interrupts.

"You be trying to command me?"

First those bulbous eyes narrow in defiance and then the House Elf snaps its fingers.

Foreign magic quickly and aggressively ensnares Harry in a vice like grip before extending towards each of his limbs. Against his control, they forcefully straighten out and lock into place.

Once immobile, the two pop out of the boy's first year dormitory.

In the darkened room during the midnight hour, a silencing charm disables so none stir awake after the first pop five minutes earlier or even the two simultaneous pops a moment ago.

At the same time, the two reappear deep underground in a small stone antechamber.

Harry falls unceremoniously onto the floor. With a limited field of vision, he can only see shadows flickering on the rough jagged rocks above. Adrenaline heightens his other senses so he immediately notices something hard and sharp pokes him in the back while the overwhelming scent of decomposition lingers in the air.

"Master Renfred, the body snatcher be here as requested."

Off to the side, a familiar voice utters, "Thank you, Whisk. Hmm, he's causing problems already. Remove his wand and then you may release him."

In the wake of two quick successive loud snaps, more invasive foreign magic grasps his wand from a hidden arm holster then retreats. Finally granted mobility, Harry promptly scrambles onto his hands and knees causing a series of loud cracks. At first, the ground appears heavily laden with white sticks of varying size and shape, but then he spots a small animal skull.

Realization swamps over him like a heavy suffocating tide, he is standing in a mass grave.

Bones, fur, and feathers of various animal carcasses litter the ground as far as the eye can see. Luckily nothing resembles a human being.

"Yes, behold the inglorious feeding grounds for Salazar's basilisk."

Harry whirls around revealing the Sorting Hat placed on a wooden stool flanked by two House Elves on either side.

"Where am I? And, why have you brought me here?"

"For the first, simply look to your left. The second should be obvious; we're continuing our long awaited conversation."

Annoyed with not receiving a direct response, Harry reluctantly follows the advice. His face immediately blanches upon seeing the large circular door beset with seven incredibly life-like serpents.

Renfred continues, "Aww, it finally clicks. We're located just outside the Chamber of Secrets."

"Do you intend to kill me and add my bones to this inglorious feeding ground?"

"Not today. However should your usefulness ever waiver, then…"

A threat hangs uncomfortably in the air.

With gritted teeth, Harry lowly says, "How exactly am I to be useful?"

"Very good, you're taking this seriously. I'll be blunt since there's a narrow window in which to outline the three tasks that need to be fulfilled by year-end. First, dispatch the basilisk. Then, exorcise Voldemort from Quirrell. Lastly, cleanse and recover Rowena's diadem."

As each task is uttered aloud, Harry stares more and more disbelievingly.

"They should have called you the Mad Hatter. You are out of your mind if you think I am just going to gamble my life away!"

"Bluster all you like. This is not a negotiation."

"Those tasks were largely accomplished with luck and always involved defying death by a hair's breadth."

"So you never intended to rid the world of Lord Voldemort?"

Harry quickly replies, "I didn't say that."

"My patience is drawing thin. Are you friend or foe? Pick one, for you cannot be both."

"I am a friend, but you are treating me as if I were your foe. You don't care whether I live or die so long as these tasks are achieved."

The wrinkly hat arches an eyebrow like fold and sardonically says, "Pot meet kettle. You are doing the exact same thing with the rest of Hogwart's population along with the wider wizarding world. Tell me why your life is so much more valuable than theirs?"

Hearing his actions from a different point-of-view, leaves Harry speechless.

Renfred sighs before continuing, "You've already started making waves in this world. Here's food for thought, go ahead and open this door. You don't have to enter. Just open it."

A fearful expression flitters across Harry's face.

"So you already suspect it."

Harry reluctantly replies, "Yes, I've attempted to speak with snakes, but to no avail."

Renfred chuckles mirthlessly, "Harry Potter is no longer a parselmouth. And, you know what this means?"

"It means the horcrux is gone too." That the original Harry Potter also died is left unsaid.

"True, but the bigger picture is far more worrisome. What if that means Harry Potter is no longer the chosen one? Can you even vanquish Lord Voldemort?"

Once the last words permeate through his mind, Harry yells, "If you don't believe I can, then why am I even here?"

"Don't take that tone with me! For those of us that stand against Lord Voldemort, we can't afford to place all of our eggs in one basket. If you can't, then it is better to know sooner rather than later. At least then, we can implement a backup plan."

"Well, I am definitely not doing it now!"

"Should I infer that you are declining to proceed and that our friendly chat is at an end? I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. Whisk -"

The same menacing vibes instantly reappear and given the previous threat to kill him, Harry quickly utters, "Wait, WAIT! Hold on a second, I'll...I'll do it."

Though reluctant, the last few words are forced out.

"Incentive aside, I'm glad you can be made to see reason. But know this, failure to comply will result in dire consequences though not limited to permanently ending your story or everyone learning that the real Harry Potter is dead and you are merely possessing his body."

Effectively backed into a corner, Harry switches topics by asking, "Would you really kill me if I didn't help or failed in a task?"

"I wasn't made with morality in mind. You will just have to wait and see how far I am willing to go in order to achieve my goals. Now that the ugliness has been settled and we're officially allies, you may call me Renfred and feel free to grovel before me."

A fast growing kernel of anger spreads through Harry, "Why in the world would I do that?"

"In anticipation of our alliance, I've been working hard all week to manage the fallout caused just from you stepping foot on Hogwart's grounds. Did you know that the ghosts here take great delight in scaring first year students? It may as well be an unofficial rite of passage. Without fail, it happens every year. Until now. Soon enough a pattern emerged leading straight to you so I've been keeping tabs. I heard the most bizarre reports on you. Owls will neither accept nor deliver your posts. Ghosts flee when they see you. Ever dutiful house elves defy orders to serve you. I admit at first I was stumped, but eventually I spoke to them one by one. Somehow they're all able to tell that you've corrupted the circle of life. Oh how, they loathe being in your presence."

By the time Renfred stops speaking, dual sensations of hot and cold envelop Harry's back. Now, he knows unequivocally why Kreacher vehemently detests him and apparently other magical beings as well. For the first time, he is so emotionally compromised that calling upon his occlumency walls fail to stymie the oncoming tide of an anxiety fueled panic attack.

With a noticeably shortened breath, Harry chokes out, "I've agreed to the tasks. Anything else can't wait."

Fortunately, Renfred concedes, "You may call on Whisk or Sweeper for aid. Remember the deadline is year-end. Whisk, please return him to his dorm."

Author's Note: Reviews are welcome.