AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 16: Sacrifice
"Who's there?" Kingsley called as he fired a spell toward the voice. A moment later, the entire chamber lit up with a bright white light. Harry opened his eyes a fraction to see as he looked around the pillar toward the voice.
A tall, handsome figure stood one pillar behind Lockhart, a wand clutched in his hand. His pale skin seemed to be almost translucent and his jet black hair seemed to disappear in the darkness. Dark eyes glared at Kingsley as he took a small, mocking bow. "It is I, Tom Riddle, the greatest wizard the world has ever seen," Tom announced with a flourish of his dark robes. A Slytherin crest was on the breast of his school robes.
"Voldemort," Moody cursed before firing jets of light toward Lockhart and Riddle.
The chamber erupted into chaos as part of the pillars near Tom exploded from Moody's attacks as the Basilisk made its appearance. Thomas was hit, full in the chest by the Basilisk's tail, crushing him against the pillar he had his back to.
"Thomas!" Lydia cried as she fired a red spell at the Basilisk. The hulking snake reared back, hurt or stunned by the spell the Magizoologist used.
Harry slammed his eyes shut again when he realized the Basilisk was three pillars away from him. He could feel the serpent, almost like a phantom limb. It was a strange feeling. He could feel the Basilisk's presence like a misty physical object that he could touch. It reminded him of running his fingers through water before he lost most of his ability to feel in his fingers.
"Kill them all," Tom hissed somewhere in the darkness.
"Where am I?" Lockhart's voice called from somewhere in the chamber. It sounded like he was farther from Harry than he'd been before Moody's attacks.
Harry listened to the battle raging on the other side of his pillar, too scared to move and unable to do anything to help the adult wizards. The constant cry of exaltation the Basilisk made at each successful strike made his stomach clench in knots. While he didn't like most of the adults, he didn't want them dead.
"Reducto!" Kingsley shouted. The sound of a hissing scream filled Harry's ears. He realized the Basilisk must have been wounded by the Auror's attack.
Harry opened his eyes a sliver to peek around the pillar again. Dawlish, a wide grin on his square face, shot another spell from behind a pillar. Professor Snape disappeared and reappeared behind pillars as he sent spell after spell toward the snake as he moved closer and closer to Zoe who lay at the feet of the statue. Moody crouched over the still form of Thomas, firing spells without looking toward the snake.
"You got an…" Dawlish called out before his words cut off. Harry watched in mute horror as the Basilisk appeared around the side of the pillar and looked the Auror in the eyes. Dawlish's face had a look of confusion as he seized up and fell sideways.
"Dawlish… Dawlish!" Kingsley yelled as he sent another spell toward the pillar where Dawlish lay.
"Yessss," Riddle called from somewhere in the darkness, closer to Harry this time.
"Pull back," Moody ordered. "We're too exposed out here."
"Too late," a soft voice crooned. Riddle appeared from behind a pillar close to Harry's hiding spot. The tall boy watched the battle with a maniacal expression plastered on his face. Harry raised his wand to try and curse Riddle but was too slow.
"Stupefy," Thaddeus yelled as he rounded a pillar close to where Riddle stood. The red jet of light seemed to fly through Riddle's robes and hit the pillar above Harry's head. "What?" he questioned before readying his wand again. The Curse-Breaker wasn't fast enough.
"Avada Kedavera," Riddle spat as he pointed his wand at Thaddeus. Unable to get out of the way in time, the green spell hit the wizard in the chest. The bright flash of green light illuminated the chamber for a brief moment. Harry's vision seemed to tunnel in as he watched Thaddeus drop to his knees, his wand falling from his dead fingers and clattering to the stone floor. The dark-haired wizard's head drooped to one side as his body fell, following the weight of his head.
"Thaddeus!" Lydia screamed as she sent spell after spell toward where Riddle stood.
Chaos rained again for Harry as the floor and pillars exploded from the storm of curses and spells from the adult wizards. He covered his head as stone debris pelted him and the very floor itself rose and fell as if an earthquake erupted under his feet. Scrambling to his feet, Harry ran away from the destruction, stumbling as he sought protection from another pillar.
It took a minute for his vision to return and with it, dread. The Basilisk was near, lurking in the darkness somewhere to his left and close to the statue. He felt the great snake moving away from him so he risked a glance around his pillar. Professor Snape had his back to the pillar closest to the raised platform where the stone feet were. The Basilisk slithered in the darkness to his left. Moody, Kingsley, and Lydia were nowhere to be seen. Lockhart stumbled out into the wide path between the pillars, his face paler than before. He held a black Diary in his left hand as he staggered around.
"Professor, to your left near the wall," Harry yelled as he broke cover and ran toward the entrance corridor, trying to keep pillars between him and his enemies.
Harry heard an explosion of activity as he ducked behind a pillar close to the large doors with the snakes carved into them. The sound of spells going off again made him shudder as he imagined the scene he might see if he looked around the pillar.
"Kill the boy first, he can sense you as I can," Riddle hissed from the darkness near Harry.
A fear unlike anything he'd ever felt gripped Harry when he realized Riddle had just ordered the Basilisk to attack him. "Sod off you bloody buggering snake," he yelled as he ran as hard as he could for the open door. To his horror, the chamber door started to close and he felt the Basilisk coming for him, faster than he'd imagined possible.
"Death comes for us all. Even to you, Harry Potter," Riddle taunted.
"Death can bloody bugger off too," Harry roared as he jumped aside at the last moment. The Basilisk slithered past him and hit the closing doors with the force of a speeding car. The chamber shook as the Basilisk veered off, hissing its displeasure at missing Harry.
"Reducto," Harry shouted as he aimed his wand at the pillar near the Basilisk. A large chunk of the stone snake exploded, showering the Basilisk with stone debris. "Fumos," he said and cast the spell at his feet. A smokescreen covered him as he ran behind the closest pillar. Two silver spells flew through the smoke and struck the Basilisk, causing the great beast to wail in pain. Harry wasn't sure what the spells were but was glad they hurt the serpent.
"Impressive, using the ground to impale my pet," Riddle praised before yelling, "Avada Kedavera."
Harry heard spells explode around the chamber as battle resumed between the adults, the Basilisk, and Riddle. He ran, this time toward the statue as he tried to track the Basilisk by feeling it. The damage done by the adults had caused the Basilisk to move slower, something Harry was thankful for. It no longer slithered across the floor at break-neck speeds.
"Potter, dodge left," Professor Snape yelled over the din.
Listening to the Potion Master, Harry dove for cover behind the next pillar. A massive ball of fire struck a pillar close to where he lay, the flames licking the ground as it passed. The fire scorched the stone black and deformed some of the carved snake's tail. Panting from the exertion, Harry jumped to his feet to continue his mad dash for the front of the chamber.
"Hah, another of you is down," Riddle jeered.
"Moody is fine, he's knocked out," Kingsley reported to the others a moment later.
"Not for much longer," Riddle taunted. Explosions erupted near where Kingsley's voice came from.
The Basilisk, a constant source of worry for Harry, slithered ever closer, by using the other side of the room. Harry hadn't heard Lydia's voice in a while, something that made him worried for her safety. A quick glance around his pillar, made him realize she lay next to Lockhart. The once handsome and flamboyant professor lay face down, his wand lay on the floor beside Lydia. Lockhart's robes were dirty, torn, and tattered.
"Potter, pay attention," Professor Snape called as a green spell flew past Harry's face.
Chastised, Harry ducked back behind his pillar and blinked. The ruined eye of the Basilisk looked at him while the other eye was hidden by the pillar. With a shout, he slammed his eyes shut and threw himself around the side of the pillar to get as far away from the Basilisk as possible. His lapse in concentration was all the Basilisk needed to get close in an alarming amount of time. He wondered if the great snake had played him for a fool, acting hurt when it wasn't.
"Potter!" Professor Snape yelled as he fired spell after spell at the Basilisk.
"I'm fine, professor," Harry called as he ducked behind another pillar.
"This is the end, for all of you," Riddle announced as he walked out into the middle of the chamber. He looked untouched by the battle or the spells that had been sent his way.
"Take Zoe and run, professor," Harry said as he shot a Grease Charm on the floor behind him. He'd noticed Zoe was cradled in the hook-nosed professor's arms. His shout didn't have the intended effect he wanted.
"Get the greasy one," Riddle shouted as he sent a flash of light in Professor Snape's direction.
Harry, scared for both Professor Snape and Zoe, rounded his pillar and shot every advanced charm he knew toward Riddle, ducking between the pillars whenever he could. Kingsley shouted spells as well, sending them toward Riddle and the Basilisk crashing against the pillars behind him. It was Harry's Grease Charm that did more harm than good. Professor Snape stepped on the dark grease sludge on the dark flagstones, sending him and Zoe sliding into a pillar.
Harry realizing what happened, knew he had seconds to act. "Kingsley, they fell," he yelled as he rooted around in his robes. He found the right vial in seconds, the rough triangle raised on his experimental potion told him he had the right one. Cocking his arm back, he threw the vial with all his might at the down and dazed professor. The Basilisk was closing fast, its mouth open wide. The vial hit the floor beside Zoe and the professor.
An unholy screeching echoed around the chamber as the pungent smell of cinnamon and clove assaulted Harry's nose. The Basilisk seemed to have a spasm attack as it thrashed around, its tail crashing into the pillars. Large chunks of stone fell from the pillars as the Basilisk tried to get away from the large cloud of cinnamon gas. Professor Snape and Zoe started to cough and sit up, covering their faces.
"Ah!" Riddle screamed from the middle of the chamber. "Expulso," he cried. A moment later a loud explosion rocked the other side of the room.
"Professor, I only have one more of those potions. Run!" Harry called when he realized the Basilisk was regaining its senses.
"Come," Professor Snape ordered as he yanked Zoe to her feet. They slid twice in the grease before they could stand.
"Enough!" Riddle screamed.
Harry worried for Kingsley, turned to see Riddle staring past him and right at Zoe. The handsome boy raised his wand and shot a dark spell toward the fleeing pair. "Protego," he yelled, hoping to block or deflect the spell. It missed his shield and hit Zoe in the back, dropping her to the floor.
Something odd happened when Zoe collapsed. Riddle, who was looking a little transparent and green, became more solid and defined. Riddle glanced toward the fallen Lockhart and back to Zoe, an expression of exaltation spreading across his face. The sound of the Basilisk's slithering approach made Harry's heart freeze. "Fumos!" he cried before jumping out of the way. A large smokescreen obscured his vision as the great snake slammed into the pillar he'd been crouched next to. The monstrous body of the Basilisk brushed against Harry's robes, giving him a very clear and heart-stopping look at the beast he was going to fight. The circumference of the Basilisk's body came up to his chest.
Purple blood trailed from two massive wounds on the side of the great snake. "Bombarda," Harry cried as he pointed his wand at the second of the two wounds. The spell missed, reflecting off the dark, dazzling snakeskin of the Basilisk. He ran back around the other side of the pillar, knowing in his heart that the serpent was about to attack him again. Before he could round the corner, the snake struck.
Pain lanced through his body as he was thrown into a pillar by the whipping tail of the Basilisk. He felt copper in his mouth as he tried to roll over, so he could see the monster that would kill him. Fumbling in his robes, he hoped the other five vials hadn't broken. His numb fingers found the triangle vial on the first attempt. Keeping his eyes shut, he threw the vial at the Basilisk, knowing where the beast was from the debris being pushed around. Seconds later, a hot blast of cinnamon hit him in the face, making him cough and wretch as he tried to getaway.
He thought he was going to die from the pain of coughing alone. The Basilisk wouldn't have to look at him or bite him. His side burned and it felt like jagged daggers were stabbing his lungs and side as he coughed. His numb fingers fumbled in the same pocket, trying to find one of his circle labeled vials.
"Sectumse…" Professor Snape said before pain blocked out the sound in Harry's ears.
A great scream from the Basilisk made Harry's heart beat faster. Something hot splattered against Harry's face causing him to open his eyes in shock and stare right into the eyes of the Basilisk. Or rather, where the Basilisk should have had eyes. The great snake's right eye had deep, long lacerations that split open the eye. Harry realized the Potion Master had managed to completely blind the king of serpents.
"Professor, duck!" Harry warned but it was too late. The Basilisk's tail whipped up and hit Professor Snape full-on in the face. With a wet crunch, the professor crashed to the flagstones.
The Basilisk's tail raised high in the air, its intention clear. "Depulso," Harry cried as he pointed his wand at the professor. The white spell hit Professor Snape in the chest, flinging him away from the falling tail of the serpent. With a crash the tail came down, breaking the flagstones beneath with its force.
The pain of casting the spell caused Harry to cough up blood. He realized the internal damage he suffered might have been greater than he realized. The desire to live burned in him as he pulled out the vial with the raised circle on the wrapping. Using his teeth, he unstopped the cork and spit it at the Basilisk. Draining the vial down his throat, he tried to limp around the pillar he'd been laying next to.
Pain deadened his senses. He couldn't tell where the Basilisk was by feeling it anymore. The only option open to him was hearing. His left ear throbbed, blocking any sound, but his right ear worked. The sound of rubble being moved was the only warning he had to jump out of the way. Again, he found himself amazed at the size of the Basilisk as the great snake missed him by a few feet. Clambering to his feet, he ran toward the center of the room. His legs burned with pain but he tried to ignore it. The Wiggenweld Potion started kicking in by the time he got past the third pillar. Riddle stood in the middle of the chamber, the Diary in his hands as he stood over Lockhart's still form.
"Harry Potter… The-Boy-Who-Lived," Riddle sneered as he looked up. "The cockroach who has hidden behind the robes of better wizards." Riddle raised his wand and fired a red spell at Harry.
Caught by surprise, Harry didn't get his wand up in time to cast a Shield Charm. The spell hit him in the chest and he knew no more. What felt like seconds later, Harry's senses returned to him as he found himself on his knees in front of Riddle. Lockhart had been flipped over, a faint rising and falling of his chest was the only indication he was alive. Harry noticed dark markings all over the professor's face similar to what he'd seen on Zoe. As for the adults, Harry couldn't see any of them. Lydia, who had been laying beside Lockhart was missing.
"Welcome back, Harry Potter. I am going to enjoy this," Riddle taunted as he looked down at Harry. "You know who I am by now, I hope."
"Voldemort," Harry spat as he stared into the dark eyes of the handsome boy.
"Brilliant, that makes things easier. You see, my name, Tom Marvolo Riddle is a filthy Muggle's name. I needed a name wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!" Riddle boasted as he waved the dark brown wand in his hand. Red words appeared in front of him. Tom Marvolo Riddle scrambled itself until they spelled 'I am Lord Voldemort' before turning green and exploding in a small puff of smoke.
Harry realized the wand in Riddle's hand was Zoe's wand from the brief altercation they had in the kitchens the previous year. "You aren't the greatest wizard. Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard and after I'm dead he will kill you," he shouted and tried to get up.
"Such loyalty," Riddle sneered as he looked down at Harry. He pointed Zoe's wand at him, "Crucio."
Pain like nothing Harry had ever felt lanced through every fiber of his being. The pain was worse than being burned from Quirrell's spell. Fire seemed to erupt from every nerve ending he had as he fought to hold on. What felt like an eternity later, the pain stopped.
"That is for speaking back to the great…" Riddle said before breaking off. The cry of a bird echoed around the hall. Harry lay on the floor, unable to raise his head to look up at the bird that seemed to appear out of nowhere in an underground chamber. "That… is Dumbledore's phoenix," Riddle muttered as he looked around. "Dumbledore," he hissed.
"Tom," a soft voice called from somewhere behind Harry. He recognized it as Professor Dumbledore's voice instantly and knew everything would be all-right. A light tug pulled Harry away from Riddle, his body floating an inch off the ground. "I think it is time you rested, Harry," the old wizard said with a smile.
"The Basilisk is still alive, professor," Harry gasped as he tried to get to his feet.
"Indeed," Dumbledore answered and waved his wand. One of the snake pillars close to Riddle moved, dropping a monstrous stone serpent to the flagstone with a crash. "I think, you will be needing this, Harry," the old wizard said as he placed an old, battered brown hat on Harry's head and passed him his holly and phoenix feather wand.
Confused, Harry looked up to see the school sorting hat resting on his head. "Professor?" he questioned but received no answer. Dumbledore strode to the center of the room, his eyes locked on Riddle.
"It has been a very long time, Tom," Dumbledore said as he waved his wand.
Harry thought he could see a hint of fear in Riddle's eyes as he looked at Dumbledore. The transfigured stone snake slithered toward the Basilisk who'd been curled up between the feet of the statue. Riddle shouted something but Harry couldn't hear what was said. Harry realized Lockhart's wand was near one of the pillars. He grabbed the wand before trying to run toward where he'd seen Professor Snape fall with Zoe before he'd been hit by the spell. When he tried to put Lockhart's wand in his left pocket, he realized Ron's broken wand was missing. The Potion Master lay face down on the flagstones, but Harry thought he could see him breathing, if barely. Pulling another circle inscribed bottle out, he drained the contents into the professor's throat and checked on Zoe. She was alive but unconscious. A dark tattoo marred her forehead. He looked her over, trying to find any sign of why the Slytherin girl's skin looked gray and drawn up as if all the water in her body were being sucked away.
It took Harry a moment to realize there were more markings on Zoe's body and her robes had been cut open. Taking a deep breath, he slid her robes aside a little more. A network of unknown symbols and patterns were carved into her skin. It made him feel a little sick as he realized the inscriptions went lower than her naval. Covering her back up, he looked at Riddle. The boy looked, if possible, more real than he had before. Harry couldn't understand why he didn't realize it before. The Riddle from the beginning was closer to that of a ghost than a person.
A great cry echoed around the chamber as the Basilisk rammed into the stone serpent. The side of the stone snake crumbled away under the blow of the attack. Harry looked away from the raw power of the Basilisk and over to Dumbledore and Riddle. They seemed to be having a conversation but Harry couldn't hear any words. He turned back to Zoe and checked her pulse, it was weak. "Professor, are you awake?" he asked as he fumbled around in his robes.
"No," Professor Snape rasped as he tried to roll over. "Potter, what… are you doing?" he asked with a cough as one good eye glared at Harry. The other side of his face looked deformed from the Basilisk's tail. Severus Snape's right eye was hidden by a bloody mass of bone and skin that was starting to mend itself.
"She's somehow linked to Riddle. He isn't quite alive, like a ghost, but Zoe is getting weaker and he is getting stronger," Harry explained as he pointed to the symbol of a triple-headed serpent inscribed on her head. "There symbols are all over her body, professor… all over, sir," he explained as he gestured to Zoe's abdomen and pelvic regions.
The professor gave a low breath as he tried to scoot closer. "Quickly, describe the runes around her chest, stomach… and pelvis," he said in a low voice. Grunting with pain, he tried to get closer to Harry and Zoe.
"Right," Harry said and turned back to Zoe. "There is a three-headed snake on her forehead," he reported and opened her robes just a little to see her chest. "She has seven large… circles with four lines each move from her chest down to her stomach. Each line has," he broke off to check more by pushing aside her robes. A horrible realization jumped out at him. "Sir, they are everywhere, not just on her stomach. They look like they extend to her…err… let me check her legs," he reported before pulling up the legs on her robes. No marking was near her ankles but when he rolled up her arms, he realized the markings went down to her forearms. "There are marking on her entire torso and most of the arms," Harry reported.
"Continue telling me what is on her chest, only," Professor Snape gasped as he inched closer.
"Seven circles with four lines equally spacing the circles. In the center of each circle is a… snake but has legs… so maybe a lizard? The first circle has seven symbols around it," Harry reported and continued his narration as the girl's skin grew grayer with every passing second. "Professor, we don't have a lot of time. She is getting grayer."
"The Draught of Living Death, give it to her," the Potion Master barked as he made the last effort to get to the pair. "She is linked to the Dark Lord through another. A Runespoor, the triple-headed snake, is the runic number for three. Move quickly if you want to save her."
Harry, pulled out the bottle Moody gave him and felt like it had been days or weeks ago. He unstopped the black bottle and held open Zoe's mouth. Careful to ensure nothing spilled, he drained the bottle while massaging Zoe's throat to ensure the liquid went down. The effect was immediate. Zoe's breath stopped but her skin turned a little lighter.
A cry of rage broke the relative silence of the chamber as Riddle nullified whatever barrier blocked him and Dumbledore from outside their conversation. "You!" he screeched and fired a red light toward Harry and the downed professor.
"I think not, Tom," Dumbledore said in a low, cool voice. The rubble around the chamber between Harry and Riddle flew into the air and slid together to make a strong wall. "Your quarrel is with me."
The wall started to encircle Harry, Zoe, and Professor Snape. Harry made a split-second decision to dash out of the back of the enclosing wall just before it connected with the pillar. Something drove him to want to help Dumbledore in some way. The Basilisk was still alive and it had caused the deaths of powerful wizards. He didn't want Dumbledore to be another, not while he could still try and help. The wall of stone grew until he couldn't see the top as it disappeared into the darkness above. Lifting the Sorting Hat off his head, he stared at it. "What are you supposed to do to help me?" he questioned it, but the hat remained silent.
Cramming the hat back on his head, he ran toward the Basilisk and stone snake still fighting. The great serpent had taken a lot of damage from the stone snake, but it was obvious who would be the winner. "Duro," Harry called as he pointed his wand at the stone snake. The spell missed, hitting the Basilisk in one of its many wounds.
A hissing cry assaulted his ears as the Basilisk writhed on the floor. The sight gave Harry an idea but he would have to get closer to the fight. He tried to keep away from the impressive duel between Riddle and Dumbledore. He only caught snippets and flashes of the battle as he ran between the pillars and toward the stone platform where the two serpents were fighting. Once he got to the last pillar, he dug around in his robes for the last cinnamon gas potion he'd made. Taking aim, he threw it as far as he could toward the two snakes.
The potion hit the statue above the fighting snakes but the effect remained the same. A cloud of cinnamon and clove rained down. The Basilisk screeched and flailed, trying to get away from the cloud. The effect was less effective than Harry had hoped and caused him more problems. The Basilisk, in its blindness, slithered away from the cloud at full speed, right toward Harry.
"How do I kill this thing," he shouted at the hat on his head. "Do something!" he screamed internally as he ducked behind a pillar. He watched the Basilisk crash into a pillar ahead of him, sending more debris to the floor. The great snake continued on its path, moving away from him just as something heavy slammed into the crown of his head.
Bright and dark spots clouded his vision as he swayed on the spot. "You didn't have to brain me," he complained as he yanked off the Sorting Hat, prepared to throw it to the ground. What he didn't expect was a silver, ornate sword to fall out of the hat and almost land on his foot, hilt first. The clatter of the metal seemed to echo around the chamber forever.
He picked up the sword and received another shock. In an old book, he'd read with Hermione, the picture of Godric Gryffindor's Sword was on the cover. The sword in his hand was the same as in the illustration. "You expect me to poke this thing into a Basilisk?" he asked the Sorting Hat laying on the floor. It didn't respond but Harry thought he could see a disapproving look in the folds of the wizard's hat. "Mental," he muttered but looked the sword over. "It's better than nothing," he muttered before cramming the Sorting Hat back on his head.
It took him a moment, but he thought he could sense the great snake somewhere near the entrance of the chamber. Switching the sword to his left hand, he raised his wand and shot a spell toward the dark area near the wall that hid Zoe and Professor Snape. A bright flash of light illuminated the injured Basilisk. It gave Harry some hope to see all the damage done to the great snake since the start of the fight. Deep punctures dripped purple blood and lacerations all over the Basilisk's body showed red muscles underneath the scales.
"Bombarda," he cried as he pointed his wand at where he hoped the spell would hit an injury. It didn't. The Basilisk moved and caused the spell to explode on the rock wall of the chamber. It took Harry a moment to realize the advantage the stone serpent had over him. The Basilisk couldn't see or sense the stone serpent, but it could sense and smell him.
"Bugger your bloody mother with a trowel," he cursed when he realized the Basilisk was coming for him. "Illinos," he called, hoping the Grease Charm would slow the Basilisk down. His idea partially worked, as the great serpent hit the patch of dark grease on the floor and slid forward at an alarming rate. With a resounding crash that shook the pillar Harry hid behind, the great serpent careened off the pillar. Bits of stone fell to the ground as the pillar splintered, long, jagged cracks winding upward toward the ceiling.
The stone snake hit the Basilisk before it could get to Harry. Dumbledore, controlling the stone snake, protected Harry three times in the space of five minutes. In that time, Harry managed to score two slashes on the Basilisk's snakeskin and three spells in the many wounds. It was obvious the Basilisk was slowing down but at the same time getting more dangerous. The Basilisk ignored injuries caused by the stone serpent to get at Harry, almost biting him twice. Four times Fawkes appeared out of the darkness to attack the Basilisk's face, drawing blood with its sharp talons.
Harry's luck ran out when the Basilisk smashed the rock serpent into the chamber wall. He watched as the snake carving crumbled into hundreds of chunks. "Bombarda," he cast, aiming for what remained of the head. The stone snake's head exploded in a shower of stone, hitting the Basilisk in the side of the head. Enraged, the great serpent turned to Harry and slithered as fast as it could toward him. Harry cast another Grease Charm before ducking behind a broken pillar, the middle section of the pillar lay on the floor beside him.
The whole chamber seemed to shake for Harry when the great serpent again hit a pillar, but this time it was ready. Two fangs sunk deep into the meat of Harry's right thigh, near his knee. He'd been thrown forward in the impact if the serpent hitting the pillar. With a scream of pain, he jabbed the silver sword as hard as he could, across his body, and into the ruined eye of the serpent. Blood and dark venom sprouted from the wounds as the Basilisk reared back in pain. The handle of the sword slipped from Harry's hand as the great snake shook its head wildly, crashing into the next pillar.
"Gotcha," Harry muttered as he tried to hold his hand over the wound in his leg. His leg went numb seconds later. A giddy sensation settled over him as he looked around the ruined chamber. Most of the forest of carved serpent pillars remained but few were undamaged. He watched as the Basilisk writhed and hissed on the floor a dozen feet from him, the sword of Godric Gryffindor just visible in the ruined eye socket. Even while he lost feeling in his body, his vision growing dimmer, he knew the Basilisk was dead but the body hadn't figured it out yet.
The sounds of Dumbledore and Riddle's fight faded away as first the hearing in his right ear went quiet and then his left. Something nudged him, making him swing his head around to look into the eyes of the beautiful red phoenix. "Th… anks, for the h… elp," Harry slurred as his vision grew darker. Images of Ron, Hermione, and Neville flashed in his mind as he imagined them asleep, safe and sound in the castle. He knew Fred and George would go on to do great things. A round-faced boy stood in front of him, a dark shadow framed by the dimming light in his eyes. "I… get… see… your world… now," he slurred one last time as he looked at the shadow, waiting for him.
Darkness covered his eyes and he felt his body floating in a sea of nothingness. Feeling returned to his right leg and then his left. Aches and pains from the battle dissipated into dull throbs. The sound of Riddle's voice, still casting spells, returned to him as his vision cleared. The large phoenix cried, large tears, onto Harry's leg. Harry watched through the jagged holes in his robes as his skin mended. "You," he muttered, looking into the eyes of the crying phoenix. It nodded to him before flying into the air.
Harry tried to stand but his hand slipped on something hard and round on the floor beside him. One of the Basilisk's fangs, covered in his blood, lay on the floor, broken off from hitting the pillar beside him. Careful not to touch the black liquid dripping from the end of the fang, he inspected it. The phoenix returned moments later and dropped a familiar black book in his lap. It took Harry a moment to realize what the phoenix wanted him to do from its head movements. Without another thought, he plunged the fang into the book in his lap. He expected resistance due to the hardcover but had to stop when he almost stabbed himself with the fang. It poked out the other side, having gone through the cover of the book completely.
A horrific wailing like nothing he'd ever heard before emanated from the Diary. Seconds later, another scream echoed from the Diary as Riddle's screams of pain echoed around the chamber. Black ink, like gushing blood, splattered all over Harry as he threw the Diary aside. It took a full minute for the screaming in the chamber to stop. Once it had, everything was silent. The sound of soft footsteps echoed from behind the pillars before Dumbledore, dressed in his purple robes and looking untouched, appeared. He gave Harry a brilliant smile.
"Well done," Dumbledore said as he inspected the dead Basilisk. "Well done indeed."
"They are dead, they are all dead," Harry muttered as he remembered the adults who escorted him to the Chamber.
"Not all, no," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. "Tom's plan was to lure as many into his trap as possible while he remained invulnerable to mundane means. If the plan succeeded and he'd managed to silence all who came into the Chamber of Secrets, then the school would have been abandoned. He would have a perfect place to grow his power while the Ministry tried to find the Chamber, unaware of the real danger."
"Who… who lived?" Harry asked, trying to get to his feet. A faint memory passed through his mind as he remembered asking the same question to an old war veteran at Providence. "None of them, cadet. Every single man in the squad died. They died a hero, knowing they would never come home," the scarred man replied from the front of the class. "Don't be a hero, live and come home."
"Alastor, Kingsley, Severus, Thomas, you, Miss Stewart, and I are all alive," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. "Thaddeus Green fell to the Killing Curse. John Dawlish died to what I believe to be the Basilisk's stare and Lydia Temple's internal organs… well, she didn't make it. Remember their sacrifices, Harry. They knew what they were dealing with when they came down here and made the decision to pit their lives against a great threat for one magical child."
"Riddle didn't kill everyone while I was knocked out?" Harry asked, bewildered by Voldemort's lack of action. He thought Riddle killed everyone before waking Harry to gloat.
"Ah, you see, Riddle was not completely here in the material world. I believe his killing of Thaddeus with a Killing Curse weakened him to the point that he had to wait to finish off his foes. He admitted as much when I inquired about the Basilisk. It took him a lot of power to entire Miss Temple's spell wouldn't kill his snake," the professor answered with a sad smile.
"Is it worth it? The school will close. All the dead. Lockhart, you didn't say anything about him," Harry questioned as his train of thought derailed.
"Ah, yes, well… Professor Lockhart seems to have found a rather curious wand. It was wrapped in black tape with Spell-O-Tape under it to try and repair a broken wand. Not advisable to use such a broken wand in any situation. It would appear he attempted a Memory Charm after my duel with young Riddle. The results are… spectacular. Come," Dumbledore said as he strode away, toward the place where he and Riddle fought.
Harry followed on unsteady legs. A scene of devastation around the area Dumbledore and Riddle fought made his throat go dry. He couldn't imagine the spells used. At the far end of the center path, laying on his side, was Gilderoy Lockhart. His robes were ripped on one side to reveal his underwear. "Llamas with… crowns?" Harry questioned aloud as he kept his wand on the disheveled professor.
"Llamas? Crowns? Does that mean I'm the Llama's King?" Lockhart questioned with a boyish grin on his face. "The name is Gilderoy Lockhart, at your service," he said before sketching a half-bow while sitting down.
"Gilderoy 'Llama King' Lockhart… I like it," Harry said with a snort.
"Am I really? Gosh, you'd think I would have remembered. However, that suits me! I am a king!" Lockhart said as he jumped to his feet. He took a step and ripped more of his robes, sending him crashing to the floor.
"Stupefy," a gruff voice called from near a pillar. A jet of red light hit Lockhart in the face. Harry watched the lights go out in the professor's eyes before turning around. Mad-Eye Moody appeared with Kingsley Shacklebolt supporting him. The two wizards looked bad. Moody had lost his wooden leg. Both wizards had blood caked to the sides of their heads. Thomas, the rotund wizard, appeared, feet first, on a white stretcher as Dumbledore levitated him toward the group.
"He made it then," Moody growled and squinted. "Got the Draught in him before he was lost, good wizard."
"I saw Thaddeus fall, but what of Lydia," Kingsley asked as he looked around.
"I'm sorry to say, she was another casualty," Dumbledore announced.
"Damn fine witch," Moody growled before taking a swig from a canteen that had a huge dent in one side. "John too," he added as he took another sip.
"What of Miss Stewart and Severus?" Kingsley asked as he helped Moody onto the main path.
"Alive, both of them," Dumbledore reported. "Miss Stewart will need special attention once we are back up in the school. Harry, if you will lay down on this stretcher," the old wizard said as another white stretcher appeared, "it will make returning to the school easier."
"All right, professor," he said before glancing around the Chamber of Secrets, hoping one of the fallen would appear as if nothing was wrong. The moment his head touched the soft pillow, he knew no more.
Cries of alarm woke Harry as he tried to open his eyes. The bright lights of the Entrance Hall made him wince as he sat up, expecting Riddle or the Basilisk to have returned. "Easy, easy," Moody growled as a rough hand pushed him back down on the soft stretcher.
"What?" Harry got out before a new face appeared in his vision.
An older witch in the white of a mediwizard leaned over him. Her dark eyes scanning over his body. "Exhaustion, muscle strain, puncture marks with blood in his clothes but no visible damage to the skin, multiple internal fractures that are half-healed. Stable condition," she reported before she disappeared out of his vision.
Another, younger witch with bright blue eyes, appeared and placed a hand on his chest. "You'll be fine, Mr. Potter. We'll get you patched up in no time. For now, sleep," she said and waved her wand.
That night in the Hospital Wing, the sound of low, but angry conversation woke him. A small pop made Harry jump as Dobby's luminous eyes appeared at the foot of his bed. "Dobby," he gasped before drawing his wand, aiming it at the house-elf holding a ruined black book.
"Mister Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said in a low voice. "My Master is here to see the Headmaster," he said in a squeaky voice.
"Come to do me in on his command?" Harry spat preparing to curse the house-elf.
"Oh, no sir, I visited the great Headmaster Dumbledore before coming to see you. He bade me to pass you a message, sir."
"What?" Harry goggled, not trusting the house-elf in front of him. He wondered if the Ministry would accept a stunned house-elf as proof the Malfoys wanted him dead.
"He said to tell you that house-elves are released when they are given clothes, sir. Dobby wishes to give you what so many died over, sir. Here, before my Master realized Dobby is gone," the diminutive house-elf said before tossing Riddle's Diary at Harry and disappearing with a soft pop.
It took Harry a moment to realize what Dumbledore and Dobby wanted. He removed his right sock, still caked in blood from the wound on his leg, and used the Severing Charm to cut off the right leg of his robes. Getting out of bed, he put on his trainers and walked to the doors to the Hospital Wing to peer outside. He shoved the Diary into his sock, stretching the fabric until it almost broke, and wrapped it in the bloody rags of his robes.
Professor Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy stood feet from each other, speaking in low, angry voices. Mr. Malfoy had a red tinge to his pale face as he sneered at Dumbledore. "You will be escorted from the school and barred forever," he breathed out as he glared at Dumbledore.
"I think, you will find the other governors less than willing to assist you this time, Lucius. You came woefully unprepared. The monster in the school has been slain and the kidnapped student returned, safely. The governors seemed to fear for the lives of their families. It is amazing what being the Supreme Mugwump can do for providing protection for those who trust them. Ah, I see we have a visitor," Dumbledore said as he turned to look Harry in the eyes. It was a pointed look.
"Mr. Malfoy, I believe this is yours. Please don't give dangerous things to children again," Harry said as he stopped beside Dumbledore. Dobby appeared behind Malfoy's robes, his ears drooped low. Harry threw the book, covered by his bloody robes to Malfoy.
"What?" Mr. Malfoy asked as the projectile hit him in the chest. He caught it by reflex and yanked away the filthy rags. The sock ripped as he threw it aside to reveal the Diary. "What does this have to do with me?" he sneered as he dropped the book to the floor.
"Nothing, just a warning, Lucius," Dumbledore said as he put a strong hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry watched as the piece of fabric seemed to float on a sudden draft of air from an open window in the corridor. "Come Dobby, we're leaving," Mr. Malfoy ordered as he turned, billowing out his expensive black robes. When nothing happened, he turned to look at his house-elf. "I said, come!"
"But… Master has just given Dobby clothes, sir," Dobby said in a low voice. Harry had watched the sock float on the wind and hit the small house-elf in the face.
"What!?" Mr. Malfoy bellowed as he looked at the strip of black robes in the house-elf's hand and the sock hanging from his face. His eyes flicked to Harry and then Dumbledore. A mask of pure rage covered his face as he turned to Dumbledore and Harry. "You've lost me my house-elf!" he bellowed and drew a wand from inside his black cherry cane.
"I and Harry have done no such thing, Lucius," Dumbledore replied in a calm voice. "You just gave your servant clothes, we both saw it."
The look of hatred turn to Dobby, the point of his wand swinging toward the diminutive house-elf. Harry acted without thinking. He drew his wand in a quick motion, as he'd practiced, and cast a Shield Charm over Dobby. The muttered dark red spell from Lucius Malfoy exploded against an invisible barrier protecting Dobby.
Mr. Malfoy turned to glare at Harry, his eyes burning with hatred. "How dare you point your wand at me," he spat, turning his wand toward Harry.
"I think, you'll find he was protecting a free house-elf from an injustice. The Boiling Curse is a rather rude way to see off your old servant," Dumbledore said in a conversational tone as if everyone was sitting around the table enjoying a cup of tea.
Mr. Malfoy spat on the floor, cast another venomous glance at Harry, and strode away. "He won't forgive us," Harry said after Mr. Malfoy disappeared down the corridor.
"He was never going to like you anyway, Harry. He, and many like him, were and are believers of Voldemort's policies and desires. We can only hope to limit the damage they can do to society while fostering a new, smarter and more tolerant generation."
"Dobby is free," the house-elf muttered to himself. He walked over to Harry, still clutching the bloody robes. "Mister Harry Potter, what will Dobby do now?"
"Anything you'd like, I suppose," Harry said before trailing off. "Dobby, you have to be bonded to live. Isn't that the curse of house-elves?" he questioned, an idea forming in his mind.
"It is, sir," Dobby answered, his ears drooping.
"I know a very good family who'd love to have you. I'm sure you know Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Harry prompted.
"Harry Potter is noble, trying to find Dobby employment with a good family," the house-elf blubbered as he wiped his eyes.
"You don't have to do it if you want to be free. I just don't want you to die, I read the process of… unmaking a house-elf and it's horrible."
"Oh it is, sir, it is!" Dobby confirmed, his head nodding and his ears flapping. "Could… could Dobby be with Harry Potter?"
It took Harry a moment to realize what the small house-elf was asking. He had mixed feelings about Dobby and his role in the plot by Lucius Malfoy. It took him a moment to realize Dobby had been a tool, nothing more. Like a gun or artillery that took innocent lives in countless wars. "I'd be honored to have you, Dobby. I won't…" he started but was interrupted by a screech and a small, heavy bundle of rags that ran into him.
"Harry Potter is a better wizard than Dobby knew," the small house-elf cried as he sobbed into Harry's robes.
"Dobby, you'll be free to do whatever you want. I've read the rules of Hogwarts and students can't have personal house-elves while at Hogwarts. You are free to do anything you want," Harry emphasized his last words.
"I think, you'll find that rule has been out of date for some fifty years. A wonder no one has bothered to republish the policies," Dumbledore said with a faint smile.
The process of bonding with Dobby took seconds. Harry felt a tiny tug from somewhere near his naval as he placed his hand on Dobby's head, in a ritualistic display of power over the house-elf. It made him feel uncomfortable. "Dobby, you can do anything you'd like. Go anywhere you want. The only thing I ask is that you not get me in trouble. Now, go have some fun."
"Dobby doesn't know how to have… fun, sir," Dobby replied, his ears drooping.
"Alright, how about going to the Burrow and helping Mrs. Weasley with whatever she needs doing," Harry said, trying to hold back a grin at the image of Dobby appearing in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom the middle of the night and scaring the two.
It took the mediwizards three days to release him. Ron, Hermione, and Neville visited him in the Hospital Wing multiple times to try and get the story out of him. The entire trip into the Chamber of Secrets was too raw for him to talk about, but he promised he would share the entire story when he was ready. Madam Pomfrey gave him a Potion for Dreamless Sleep every night so the nightmares wouldn't wake him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were beside themselves with anger when they heard the watered-down version of events in the Chamber from Moody and Dumbledore. Harry didn't want them to know the truth and asked the reinstated Headmaster Dumbledore to sanitize the story. Mrs. Weasley pulled on his ear when she got a few moments alone with him for scaring her and Mr. Weasley half-to-death in the middle of the night.
To the wizarding world, the Daily Prophet revealed Gilderoy 'Llama King' Lockhart orchestrated the entire events of the year due to a mental break. Professor Dumbledore told Harry that Hagrid had been released from Azkaban and would spend the summer in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries at the expense of the Ministry and receive compensation for his wrongful imprisonment.
The end-of-year exams were canceled for the school, except the students who were on the Advanced Course. Harry was convinced he was the reason the exams were pushed back a week. Hermione's stress landed her in the Hospital Wing with Harry for a day while Madam Pomfrey calmed her down with a sedative. With Defense Against the Dark Arts canceled, the students had an extra free period. Harry and Hermione spent every moment they could going over their notes and flashcards.
At first, Harry didn't care about the exams, his thoughts lingering on his time in the Chamber and his action and inaction during the battle. He wrote an after-action report like he'd been taught to at Providence, to see what could have gone differently. The horrible truth was, there was little more he could have done. He tried to ignore Hermione's insistence to study for the exams until Moody stopped him in the hall and all but forced him into a classroom by wand-point.
"Potter, you're blaming yourself for an adult wizard's failure. We, the trained, experienced, and tried wizards, knew what we were going into. Thaddeus knew, Lydia knew, John knew. They all knew they could die, just as Kingsley, Thomas, and I knew we could die. While we didn't expect an attack from a young Voldemort, who everyone thought was dead, and did everything we could. I was awake for a lot of that duel between Albus and Tom Riddle. To think he was that good at seventeen," Moody growled as he stared at Harry. "I won't sugar coat it, you need to take your magical training seriously. If you want to remember the fallen, live and get better. Let their sacrifice for Miss Stewart be a lesson and inspiration for you to get better."
A petulant feeling grew in Harry's chest at being told what to do. "What if I don't care. What if I don't want to care about my magical education?" he asked, his words tumbling out of his mouth.
"Then you will die a far more tragic death than those who fell in the Chamber and in the first war. Yes, there will be another war. Dumbledore filled me in on a little more than he intended to after our trip. Speaking of which, he'll be expecting you tonight in his office. The password is Dip Dab. I'll see you over the summer if you wish to go to John Dawlish's funeral. They are postponing it for a few more weeks so his entire family can make it."
Moody's chastising made Harry wake up and realize how far he had to go. That night, Harry went up to Professor Dumbledore's office and spoke the password to the gargoyle. It jumped aside, permitting him access to the spiral stairs. "Come in," the Headmaster called when Harry knocked on the door.
"Moody mentioned you wished to see me, Professor," Harry said as he entered the opulent office. Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, sat on his perch to the left of the door. The Headmaster steepled his fingers as he looked over his half-moon spectacles.
"Yes, please, take a seat," Dumbledore said, looking at the chair in front of his desk. After Harry sat, he sat back and took a deep breath. "I know you have questions. You deserve to have answers for your part in the events of the year. I will answer what I can, but as I said last year, some things I cannot tell you. I will not lie to you and will tell you if I cannot answer."
Harry took a deep breath before asking the one question that bothered him throughout the entire year. "What was the Diary, sir?" he asked, staring at a familiar black book on Dumbledore's desk.
"Alas, the first question you ask, I cannot answer. Not because I wish to hide the truth from you, but because you are not ready. I could tell you what this is, but knowing will do little for your peace of mind. It is a dark object, one of the darkest known to the wizarding world."
"Can we prove it was Malfoy or his house-elf Dobby that passed Ginny the Diary?" Harry asked in a rush.
"I think you know the answer to that better than I can. I know you questioned your new house-elf about the Malfoy family to little avail. It is part of a house-elf's servitude to keep the secrets of their masters, no matter what they might get up to. What do you really want to know?" Dumbledore probed with a small smile.
Harry looked around the opulent office, at all the instruments on the side tables and portraits sleeping on the walls. The occupants of the portraits were clear and vibrant. They made him remember the darkened frames in the corridor off the third-floor. "What could I have done better in the Chamber and throughout the year. I know I messed up by showing Lockhart the Diary."
"Did you? You gave a potentially dark object to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," Dumbledore questioned.
"You and I both know Lockhart wasn't qualified for the job, Professor," Harry said with a small laugh. "He was barely qualified to tie his own trainers."
"You do Gilderoy Lockhart an injustice. He was a powerful wizard who managed to outmaneuver and subdue stronger wizards. He was, however, a terrible wizard at most spells, save the Memory Charm. His incarceration after regaining his memory at St. Mungo's will be a just end for him. As for your question, you displayed a mastery of spells well above your year. Not to mention the creation of the cinnamon and clove gas potion. Professor Snape was particularly pleased and angry with your potion work.
You spoke to both Kingsley and Alastor about what you believed to be your fault. You forget that you are a twelve-year-old boy. As smart as you are, you don't know everything. From your account, something I have no reason to believe to be a lie, you meant to show it to Gilderoy, not give it to him. You were a victim of the tragedies this year as much as young Weasley was and yes, even Lockhart in the end."
"But I could have done more," Harry protested, sitting up in the chair.
"Could you? Please tell me where you could have done more? If another twelve-year-old boy was in the same situation you were in, what would happen? If this happened to your friend Mr. Longbottom. If he were the key to opening the Chamber. What might have happened?"
Harry gulped and dared not say what he knew to be true. "But, sir… I could have done something more, I just know it," he said to deflect the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic. He thought the world of Neville but wasn't going to voice his doubts about his friend's bravery.
"Again, I challenge you to give me a scenario where you could have done more than you did. Could you have saved Thaddeus Green from the Killing Curse?" Dumbledore challenged, his voice becoming deeper.
"No, sir. Riddle caught him off-guard when the spell went through him," Harry said as he deflated into his chair.
"Knowledge then," the Headmaster challenge in a soft voice. "What do you know now that would have helped in the Chamber or during this year."
"What the Diary was," Harry answered immediately.
"That is true, but it would have made little difference. That object… few would know what it was or how to destroy. What else?" Dumbledore prompted as he stood. He strode over to a bookcase near the fireplace.
"What those symbols meant on Zoe's body," Harry supplied after a minute. "How to defend against a Basilisk. Spells, Charms, or how to transfigure a wall like you did to protect people," he rattled off, his mind whirling.
"All true statements. I would caution you to not delve too deeply into the what of Miss Stewart's array inscribed upon her body. It is dark magic, the kind that will ensure a long sentence in Azkaban. You touch upon what I was hinting at, knowledge. Without a strong foundation in magical and historical knowledge, you can't prevent tragedies like what happened this year. Come, I have something to show you."
Harry rose from the chair to look at a silver bowl resting on top of a black pedestal. Part of the bookshelf was open to reveal the hidden wooden shelf the bowl was on. "This is a Pensieve," Dumbledore explained as he waved his hand over the swirling silver mist coming off the top of the bowl. "I use it to siphon excess thoughts from one's mind to examine them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links when they are in this form. For you, I recommend it's properties to examine your experiences in the Chamber. Not only will it clear your mind of the memory, but it will allow you to view it from a different perspective."
"You mean my memories of what happened in the Chamber will be gone?" Harry asked, horrified.
"Willingly, so you may examine them from a third-party perspective. Let me demonstrate," the Headmaster said as he placed the tip of his wand to his temple. A silver strand appeared attached to the tip of Dumbledore's wand as he pulled the wand away. He tapped the edge of the Pensieve with his wand, dropping the strand of silver into the basin. An image of Dumbledore's office appeared and disappeared in the silvery mist. "Place your face over the basin. You will see a short memory of the conversation we just had."
Harry complied and placed his face over the basin. It took a moment for the silver mist to clear. He found himself standing beside a past Harry and Dumbledore as the Headmaster explained the use of a Pensieve. It was a surreal experience to examine everything as if he were a third party, rather than the person Dumbledore was talking to. A firm but gentle hand pulled on his shoulder.
"Wicked," Harry muttered as he blinked in the light from the office. It took him a moment to reorient himself. "Thank you, Professor, but I don't think I want to examine my memories of what happened in the Chamber just yet," he decided after imagining what he might see. He wasn't sure he could stomach seeing Thaddeus or Dawlish die again, even if it was from a different perspective.
"Quite understandable," the Headmaster said in a soft voice. "The offer is available to you whenever you wish. Just write me a letter next term and I'll prepare to receive you."
"Will there be another term?" Harry asked in a quiet voice.
"The Ministry's job is to cover up the entire wizarding world. They can be alarmingly good at hiding the truth when necessary and when it is convenient for them. You and I both know the castle is now safe… well as safe as Hogwarts can be. It can be a rather dangerous experience to live here in the castle. Magic is dangerous if used improperly and without Control. I cannot stress how much Control a witch or wizard has over their magic makes all the difference in the world."
"Control, as in capital C?" Harry asked, trying to understand whatever the Headmaster was hinting at. It seemed the entire reason for his visit was for Dumbledore to drop hints in ambiguous, roundabout sentences.
"Yes, Control. That is what a magical education is. Teaching young witches and wizards how to control their magic. Without it, accidental magic will cause injuries and even deaths. A wizard who has mastered Control over his magic will stand above their peers because of the knowledge and correct amount of force used in every application of magic. Now, Harry, I believe you are about to take your Advanced Course exams for the first time. As a Headmaster, I must say do your best, but as a friend, I can only give you this piece of advice. Don't amaze the instructors too much," Dumbledore said with a brighter smile than he'd displayed all night. "Or don't and go wild," he finished with a wink.
After his talks with Moody and Dumbledore, Harry found studying at Hermione's pace helped his mind focus on something other than the Chamber. She set a grueling, but fair pace. Ginny joined them for most of the time, sitting to one side as she listened to their conversation while she looked over the books. Harry was glad the youngest Weasley didn't bother Hermione, who was becoming snappish toward anyone who impeded her study time, which was every waking moment.
At breakfast the day before they were to sit their exams, the entire group of Gryffindor second-years received parchments to declare which electives they would be choosing to learn the next term. Without a second thought, both Harry and Hermione chose every subject available. Ginny watched over Ron's shoulder as he muttered to himself and circled two options before grinning up at Harry.
"Mate, what did you chose?" he asked as he tried to peer over the table.
"Everything," Harry answered with a laugh. Ginny rolled her eyes but gave him a wry smile. Hermione nodded and added she chose all the courses as well.
Neville, still deciding, looked at Ron. "What did you choose?" he questioned as he scratched his head.
"Divination and Care of Magical Creatures," Ron said with a grin. "I heard from Fred and George they were easy!"
Harry and the others exchanged glances when they heard Ron took the twin's word at face value. Ginny giggled into her hand and patted her brother on his shoulder with a look of pity in her eyes.
Harry sat his exams alone with one proctor for all of his exams. His proctor, an old, wrinkled wizard in long, sweeping maroon robes looked like he nodded off a few times while Harry worked in silence. The four-hour exam on Monday for Herbology and Potions made his head hurt, something Hermione agreed with as they sipped their bottles of Butterbeer, provided by the twins. Rumors spread through the school like wildfire about Harry's involvement in Zoe Stewart's rescue from Lockhart. Harry's close friends knew some things, but not the whole story. The twins seemed to have figured out most of the story and treated Harry like a king for a week and a half before switching things up by trying to prank him.
"Mr. Potter, you seem to have a deft hand at Charms. This is the end of the practical examination. For extra points, you may perform one spell or one demonstration of your choosing to display your skill level," the old wizard said as he looked over his parchment on the desk. The dark eyes of the wizard bore into Harry.
An image of Dumbledore sitting in his office appeared in Harry's mind. "I think, I'd like to give a demonstration, sir," Harry answered. The proctor never gave him his name and asked to be called proctor or Senior Proctor to the Ministry. Harry decided Sir sounded better.
The proctor coughed into his hand before sitting back. "Begin when you are ready, Mr. Potter," he instructed as he picked up his quill again.
Harry decided to show off the warning crackers he'd made for himself and Hermione. The proctor watched with narrowed eyes as Harry worked on the multiple spells used to create the linked fireworks. After a few minutes and three parchment pieces later, Harry created a red and green firecracker. "This will be loud, sir," he said and put the small red cylinder on a desk beside him.
"Continue," the proctor instructed as he sat up, his eyes glowing.
Harry cracked the green cylinder and flinched as the red firecracker sounded like a small bomb went off in the classroom. Red and green sparks shot into the air from where the red cylinder lay, the paper burning away to nothing.
"Brilliant," the proctor breathed out and clapped. "Well done, Mr. Potter. I would have sorely loved to have one of those during my time at Hogwarts. Oh, the trouble I could have caused." Harry tried not to gawk at the aged wizard's boyish grin stretching across his wrinkled face. "Don't look at me like that! I was young once too," the proctor chastised with a smile.
Hermione looked scandalized when Harry recounted the story in the common room to Fred and George. The twins howled with laughter at Harry's attempt to imitate the proctor's face. Hermione spent every night reviewing the questions they were asked on the exams with Harry. They quickly discovered that none of the questions were the same.
"How do you think you did?" Harry asked Hermione as he flopped into the chair by the fire. Ginny got up to give him the chair with a smile. She sat beside Hermione, looking back and forth between Harry and the bushy-haired witch.
"I had a question on Cross-Species Switches, did you have one on that? Anyway, I had to give a foot long answer on everything I knew on the subject. I don't know if I got everything down right for my example. I should have picked something easier than switching the legs on a rabbit and a turtle," she answered in a rush. "I'm just so glad everything is done."
Harry nodded and breathed out, sinking lower in his chair. He wondered how much weight he'd lost from sweating from the mental strain he'd endured during the week. "I had Vanishing Spells, turning a teapot into a tortoise, the Lapifors Spell, and the Softening Charm for my written part. The practicals were easy enough, but I think I'll get points docked for conjuring a bouquet of tiger lilies instead of the orchids my proctor asked for."
"Rotten luck, mate. Fred here can't even summon a bouquet of weeds," George said with a chuckle.
"Oi! I can too! It was you who conjured a bouquet of dandy lions in class the other day," Fred retorted with a glare. "I'll have you know, I can produce a fine bouquet of any flower. Gin, what flower would you like?"
"How about Bells of Ireland?" Ginny answered after a moment, a wry grin stretching her face.
Fred deflated a little. "What in Merlin's Beard is a Bell of Ireland?" he asked, looking around at the seated Gryffindors.
Angelina stood up and shook her head. "Boys are hopeless," she pronounced in an imperious voice before tossing her hair and marching up the girl's staircase toward her dormitory.
"What?" Fred asked as a few of the other Gryffindor girls started to laugh.
The end-of-term banquet was a somber affair. A portrait of Oliver Rivers sat at the head of the Ravenclaw table, facing the students, with a black sash draped over the side. Black banners hung from the ceiling where the winning House banners would normally be. A massive collage of moving photos depicted Oliver's life from childhood up until his death.
Professor Dumbledore stood at the podium in front of the High Table. "I would like all of us to remember a bright and vibrant young student, Oliver Rivers. While he passed at the start of the new year, he will never be forgotten within these walls. As an unfortunate victim to a beast, hidden away in the castle for centuries, he will receive full honors within these walls. A trophy to his memory will be placed in the school Trophy Room and a small memorial will be arranged in one of the old classrooms for any and all who wish to grieve. If you have a friend or loved one who has passed, I will create a spot for them in the newly named Hall of Remembrance. It will be located off the first-floor near the Transfiguration Tower.
We have suffered much this year, both individually and as a whole. While I was unfortunately away, the school showed more solidarity than any Headmaster has seen in many, many years. For that, I give each and every one of you a bow. Wands were joined together from every House to defend the school against the Acromantula. When the beast roamed the halls, every student worked together to barricade themselves into classrooms, cupboards, and secret passages. To that, I give each of you a bow.
Know this, only through cooperation, magical and social, can we as a community grow. Once you leave these walls you will see a different world. There will no longer be Houses and clear lines of who to associate yourselves with. The goal of the founders was to create unity and foster lasting friendships and bonds. I wish you to continue this and foster the friends you've made over the year. Everyone bleeds red. That is enough of an old man's wheezing waffle. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I wish you one last thing… tuck in," Dumbledore announced before striding away from the podium.
Food appeared on the tables a moment later as quiet conversation filled the hall. Ron and Neville talked about what they wanted to do over the summer as Fred and George tried to prank Percy with one of their new firecrackers. The Ravenclaw table was the most subdued of all. Students from Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and even Slytherin showed support for some of the Ravenclaws who were crying. Harry saw Daphne sitting alone at the end of the Slytherin table, her eyes staring down at her plate.
Draco Malfoy had lost his swagger after his father was removed from the Board of Governors. The ponce glared at Harry when their eyes met for a brief moment. Harry had a strong suspicion Malfoy would try something next term.
The next morning, Harry froze when he saw black, skeletal horses standing in front of the school carriages. While he'd never ridden in one, he'd heard other students talk about the ornate coaches that took the students to and from Hogsmeade Station. He remembered hearing the carriages were pulled by themselves. After loading his trunk into the back of the carriage, he tried not to stare at the dead horses as he clambered in the carriage behind Ron.
The ride back to King's Cross was enjoyable, if long. Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Hermione sat in a compartment together, playing exploding snap and talking. Hermione told everyone her parents wanted to go on holiday to France. She played with Hedwig on the carriage seat while she wrote out her plans for what to study over the summer.
Fred and George popped their head in for a little while to pass Harry three letters, sly grins on their faces. They refused to tell anyone about the letters and threatened to curse Ron if he kept asking. Harry shook his head while pocketing the letters without opening them. Fred and George's letter was on the top. He had a feeling he knew what it was from the weight of the letter. The second and third letters shocked him. The second letter was addressed to him from Patricia Stimpson, the Ravenclaw he'd met in the classroom during the last Basilisk attack. The last letter had a coat of arms stamped in the corner depicting a large bird with long talons on either side of a heater shield on a field of green and brown. A cursive capital G was in the middle of the shield with a waving banner under it reading 'Honore Meo Sanguine'. 'To Heir Potter' in elegant handwriting was the only thing written on the front of the soft, expensive letter.
"Mister Harry Potter, how happy Dobby is to see you!" the boisterous house-elf called as Harry stepped off the train.
"Whfut?" Ron asked around the corner of a Chocolate Frog as he watched Dobby hug Harry around the middle.
"Oh, right, I knew I forgot to tell you guys something. Dobby, meet my friends. I'd love for you to consider them your friends as well," Harry said with a smile as he looked down at his house-elf. Dobby wore the torn piece of his robes like a badge of honor over his chest. It took Harry a moment to realize Dobby had his old sock over one ear.
"Dobby hasn't had friends before, sir," Dobby said in a low voice.
"Well, now you do, and they take care of each other," Harry said as he looked up to see Lucius Malfoy glaring at him from across the platform.
AN: Thank you for reading Book 2: Harry Potter and the Sacrifice for One. It took me a lot longer to write than I was expecting. I am in the process of writing Book 3: Harry Potter and the Freedom to Live now and will regularly update my profile on timelines and any unforeseen issues. That being said, I'm going to spend some time reading and researching Cairo and its history as it would pertain to the magical world and how I want Harry to interact with Sirius Black's character. We've seen Harry grow as a person and come into his own magically. From here on, there will be adult situations, language, and subjects some may find disturbing. This is not to say I will go overboard, but the books do get darker. Realism, as much that can be attributed to magic, is something I value in my writing and way I like to portray the world. In J.K. Rowling's books, she had a soft magic system that adds to the mystery and allure of the more powerful characters. I just happen to like harder magic systems, with defined rules, that the reader can understand and sometimes relate to. You will see more of the "science" of the Harry Potter world magic as Harry's magical knowledge grows. I expect the next book to have 21-24 chapters, each in similar or longer word lengths than this book. Harry is growing older so small details he notices and interpersonal relationships will grow as he does. Please, as always, comments and criticism on my writing are welcome. I believe, with this book finished, I've written a little over two million words now and am still constantly trying to improve. So, any feedback is appreciated. My dream, as it stands, is to one day present a novel or series as engaging and entertaining like the works of Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson, Robert Asprin, and many, many more prolific authors. I appreciate all the words of encouragement and reviews. Again, thank you for reading and I hope to start posting the new book soon.