Disclaimer: not mine

$This is Parseltongue$

Chapter 9

Harry couldn't wait for Christmas break to get away from the Castle. Frankly, all the charm of the place had well and truly worn off. Despite Draco's pointed words that day in the Great Hall, Harry was still being given side glances by a lot of students. He just…didn't want to get involved, not like last year. He still didn't know how Quirrell had grabbed him and did not want a repeat.

Part of him liked the chaos and fear that haunted the halls, bringing to mind black hair and golden eyes, Vanitas. It was the part of him that made walking the halls at night without being caught so easy. Was it fair to blame that all on Vanitas though? Surely some of it came from him too? Just like the desire to protect everyone couldn't just be Ventus.

He didn't think he was them reincarnated or something. He'd actually looked that up and yeah, some Magicals believed in that, but what was recorded did not sound anything like him. He'd also read everything he could find on what people believed happened the night his parents died, it was all guesswork. Still, it gave him a starting point. So did a repetitive dream of Vanitas and Ventus fighting over a glass platform like the one he'd seen after Quirrell. Vanitas had dissolved like dust, Ventus had become light, both floating away. Harry had been struck by the Killing Curse which no one had ever survived. So…what if he only survived because of events lining up? What if instead of ejecting the soul as was theorised, the Killing Curse destroyed the Heart? If his Mum's protection had meant his was only damaged, he still probably would have died,…but then Ventus and Vanitas had merged with him? What could have drawn them to him?

There was no way to know anything for sure, not like he could meet them and ask, they were dead. Ventus had destroyed them both to save the universe. He could understand that, but to have the strength to actually go through with it? To fight against someone who had once been part of him…if Vanitas had been with anyone other than Master Xehanort could they have been brothers instead of enemies?

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Riku stood attentively as Yen Sid addressed them, having summoned them there for a special purpose. He would have preferred more time on the Islands to relax and get used to having his own body back, but he wouldn't have summoned them unless it was important.

"As a Keyblade Master, Xehanort had a gift like few others. But such great minds are often plagued by a single great question. What is the essence of the human heart that weakens us, or empowers us? The answer, he believed, would be found in the "Keyblade War." What if the challenges of our past were, in fact, a map to the light and darkness that battles within us all? Xehanort had to know, so he renounced his duties as master and chose the seeker's life. Since then, in many a guise, he has clashed with protectors of the light. Keyblade wielders like yourselves. And mark my Words, he will trouble us yet again. We must be ready. Which is why you, Sora and Riku, are to be tested for the mark of a true Keyblade Master. No doubt you fancy yourselves masters already, but it takes years of training. Only a true master can teach you the proper way. Both of you are self-taught Keyblade wielders, an impressive feat. However, the time has come for you to let go of preconceived notions, forget what you know about the Keyblade, and begin your training again with a clean slate."

"Huh?!" The others cried in surprise.

Riku remained silent, thinking over his words…and ending up stumped. If the idea was that they needed to be taught, rather than self-taught, then why test them for Mastery now? Why wipe away all the skill they already had just for them to be self-taught again?

"But that's a formality, right? I already proved myself. Me and the King, and Riku - we can take on anything. Right, Riku?" Sora turned to him with wide eyes, and Riku hesitated.

Master Yen Sid was old, powerful, wise…maybe there was reasoning he couldn't see behind the idea. "I don't know," he admitted, sensing Sora's shock. He summoned Way to Dawn, staring at the blade that had begun what felt like a lifetime ago as Soul Eater, a magical weapon but not a Keyblade. He honestly wasn't sure when the change began, maybe after…

'Are you lost? Can I help?' If that voice hadn't called out to him in the Darkness, would he have been lost forever? It was only because of him that he had made it to where Mickey's voice had reached him.

"I think that in my heart, Darkness still has a hold," he admitted, dispelling the blade. "Walking that path changed me. I'm not sure if I'm ready to wield a Keyblade. Maybe I do need to be tested," he couldn't look at anyone as he admitted that.

"Riku..." Sora whispered, and he tensed, but there was no anger or pity, just….sadness and…understanding. He risked a glance at Sora to see a faint glimmer of tears. How could Sora understand, he'd never given in to the Darkness. Even as a Heartless he'd someone held on! Maybe because it had been a selfless act to free Kairi?

Riku saw Sora glance at Donald and Goofy, chewing his bottom lip. He remembered on the beach, Sora saying something about him and the darkness, but he didn't believe it. Sora's Light was strong. "The magic clothing, the Drive Forms…how many are there meant to be?" Sora asked quietly, and Riku looked at Yen Sid who frowned, pressing his fingers together.

"Five I believe," the Master answered, and Riku saw the concern on Goofy and Donald's faces, but why?

"There's six," Sora met Yen Sid's eyes and…yep, his hands were shaking slightly.

"Anti-form," Donald whispered, shivering slightly.

Yen Sid frowned, looking between them. "Show me," he ordered.

"I can't," Sora shrugged. "It's the one form I can't just use," he shifted uncomfortably, and Riku shifted closer to him. He really did not like where this was going.

"Very well, describe it," Yen Sid's tone had lost some of the command which was nice.

"I don't know, I've never seen myself in a mirror. And…it's hazy, not like the others. It hurts after," Sora admitted and Riku reached for his hand, wishing Kairi was there to comfort him. They were best friends, brothers, or had been before he messed everything up, he knew Sora better than anyone, could tell he was hurting, but Kairi sometimes just knew how to calm him…because she was a Princess of Heart?

"Donald? Goofy?" Mickey asked his friends.

"Well…it usually only happens when Sora's been using the other Drive Forms a lot, and in really bad fights, when he's hurt, stressed….and usually if we're out of the fight or cut off from him," Donald began.

"It's the only change that…that….makes him scream," Goofy added and Riku wanted to storm over to the fairies and let them know that clothing that could hurt someone was not allowed!

"You appear to be attempting not to describe the Drive," Yen Sid pointed out.

"Well…" Donald looked at Goofy, who looked at Sora, and Sora nodded before staring at the ground.

Riku squeezed his hand, Sora had accepted him wearing Ansem's form, no matter what this Drive Form was, it couldn't be worse and even if it was, he was still Sora.

"Everythin' on Sora becomes black but there's some blue lines too, kinda…kinda like a Neoshadow. His eyes are round and yellow and there's this dark…kinda mist rising off him. Sorta like that shadow Sora that Riku called up in Neverland. He fights…like a Heartless, doesn't use the Keyblade but claws. He's really fast and he can hang off stuff by a foot. He can't talk or nothin' either. He's not dangerous!" Goofy waved his hands wildly at them, Riku feeling a bit faint as he clung to Sora's hand. "And he's never attacked us or any innocents. He just fights till the Heartless or Nobodies are done and then kind of paces around, sniffing an' stuff till he changes back. Won't let anyone close but he doesn't attack and he defends us if we're down."

"Sora…" Riku whispered and then he yanked Sora into a hug, holding on tight. He felt Sora shaking slightly even as he hugged back.

"This is most disturbing."

Holding Sora so close meant he felt the whole body flinch at Yen Sid's words, and Riku shot him a glare over Sora's head.

"So it's not meant ta happen?"

"No," Yen Sid stated.

Riku's mind was spinning. What could be causing it then…he felt sick, but it needed to be said. "Could it…could it be because Sora was a Heartless for a while? A side effect?"

"Perhaps…with the clothing allowing for a certain amount of magical change…" Yen Sid was obviously considering things. "And another reason for this test to wipe out your current skills."

"You mean, that'll get rid of anti-form?" Sora asked hopefully.

"You will lose all of your Drive Forms," Yen Sid agree.

"Then count me in. Put me through the test! Just watch-me and Riku will pass with flying colours!" The announcement lacked his usual energy levels, but Riku didn't blame him at all. He would just have to make sure he stuck super close during the exam to make sure Sora was handling having them all know okay.

Yen Sid nodded. "Very well, then. Sora and Riku, let your examination begin."

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"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

They all heard the yelling of Peeves and Harry was carried along with the crowd into the hallway. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Harry found himself pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. Harry nearly obeyed but then stopped when he saw Draco looking far paler than was normal even for him and on the ground…was Justin, floating over him was Nearly Headless Nick who looked strange.

"Caught in the act!" Ron Weasley yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Draco

"That will do, Weasley!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song: "Oh, Malfoy, you rotter, oh," he was cut off as Harry cast Silence, smirking when no sound came from the Poltergeist. He moved away from the wall to join his friend, nudging his shoulder gently.

"That's enough Peeves!" barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry, obviously able to tell he was the reason he'd gone silent before McGonagall had told him to.

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ron with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. Ron unhappily did so, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Draco, Harry, and Professor McGonagall alone together.

"This way, Malfoy," she said. "Mr Potter, go to class."

"Professor," Draco spoke up at once, "I swear I didn't -"

"This is out of my hands, Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall curtly, making Draco start to walk.

Harry met his eyes and pointed towards the dungeons, before taking off running. He would get Professor Snape, he would speak for Draco. He made it in record time, knocking on the door which was soon wrenched open.

"Potter?"

"Sir, Malfoy needs you in the Headmaster's office. There's been another attack and he was found there," Harry explained quickly.

Snape stood from his desk and strode to the door. "Return to your class," he conjured a slip of paper and handed it to him, excusing his tardiness thankfully. "Five pointes to Hufflepuff," he murmured before he was gone.

Harry stared after him before rushing back upstairs to get to class.

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Lucius was fuming when he received Severus' message. How dare they drag his son to the Headmaster without one scrap of evidence beyond simply being in the corridor, there were classrooms all along it! He was grateful to Potter for going to Severus on Draco's behalf since no one else had summoned him. Still, he was going to have to push the Board to do something about the attacks. Two children and a cat had been petrified, what if the next died? If the Board failed to act, he may need to donate something to the Ministry to get them moving.

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Sora stared at a girl in a black cloak with dark hair. "Huh? Who are...you?" he asked in confusion. She looked away from him and a tear rolled down Sora's cheek. He touched his face in surprise. "Wh-why am I..." She pulled away from him, putting her hood up. "Hey, wait!"

"You've gotta wake up..."

Sora hesitated at the sound of a distant voice, watching the girl run up the stairs before vanishing. He grabbed his head and then made his way through the endless city. He caught up with the hooded figure, who stood in the centre of a large crevasse.

"C'mon, wait up. Who are you?" he demanded.

The figure took off his hood, revealing his blond hair. He turned to face Sora.

"You're... Roxas. How can you be here? Am I dreaming?"

Roxas shook his head, saying nothing.

"C'mon, say something," he pleaded, more than a little freaked out.

"This could have been the other way around," Roxas actually spoke to him, not that he made any sense.

"Huh?"

"But it really has to be you," Roxas smiled slightly.

"What do you mean?" Sora pushed.

"There are so many hearts that are connected to yours. You're me, so you can feel what I felt."

"No. Roxas, you're you. We're not the same. I wanted to tell you that. That you deserve as much as I do to be your own person."

Roxas gasped and then smiled. "Sora, see? That's why it has to be you." He grabbed Sora's hands and Sora was filled with Roxas' memories and experiences. Roxas vanished and Sora was overwhelmed with emotion.

He stood there, unable to move. "Not again. Did they cause all this pain?" He clenched his fists. "What do you want me to see?" he yelled.

"Sora, don't chase the dreams. They'll lead you nowhere, just to an abyss you'll never be able to wake up from."

That voice again, he knew it, he was sure, but it was too soft to tell who it was. Sora continued through the contorted city, because what else could he do?

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Harry followed a House elf into the room that was his at Neville's home. It was older than Malfoy Manor but not quite as large or grand. Still, it didn't feel very homey at all. His trunk was already there so he unpacked a few necessities before going back downstairs for supper. Seeing Neville retreat into a meek shell again was not something he liked at all. Augusta Longbottom was a very…strong personality. And within fifteen minutes, Neville had been compared to his Father six times, failing to live up to his legacy according to her. Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something that was…not polite. He was a guest in her house and he would not do or say anything to bring shame to his House but…he almost wished he could set a Flood on her, just to give her a scare. No, that would not be a good thing to do.

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"Gawrsh... Where are we, Sora?" Goofy asked as they walked through the town.

"Hmm... I dunno... I've never been here," Sora answered.

"Me neither," Donald agreed.

Jiminy jumped down. "That can't be right! Up 'til now, the only places we've been are from Sora's memory."

"Maybe so, but I definitely don't remember this," he shrugged slightly, looking around.

"You might have forgotten this town just like the other stuff," Donald suggested.

"This is terrible. Our memories are practically gone."

Donald and Goofy looked down in despair.

Sora took out Naminé's good luck charm. "We'll be okay. See, look at this..." held it up.

"Naminé's good luck charm!"

"There's a special memory that goes with this. One night, when Naminé and I were little, there was this meteor shower. Naminé started crying. She said, "What if a shooting star hits the islands?" So I said, "If a shooting star comes this way, I'll hit it right back into outer space!" I was swinging this toy sword around the whole time. Naminé just smiled and said, "Thanks." And then she gave me this," he explained even as he saw an image of her in his mind.

"Sora, I'm so sorry. All this, because of me..." the image faded away.

"Naminé said she had it ever since she was a baby," he finished explaining.

"And she gave it to you? Aww..." Donald teased and Sora felt his face heat up a bit.

"Yeah. So I promised her... From now on, I'll bring you good luck. I'll keep you safe. But then one day, Naminé left the islands...and I forgot about her all this time. I really let her down..." he muttered, mad at himself. How could he have forgotten her?

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Neville stood on a stool across from Harry's. They were being fit with dress robes for the Malfoy's party. He was nervous about it, Draco was okay, but his parents? Lord Malfoy had been a Death Eater, it had been Lady Malfoy's sister who had helped attack his family… what if it was all a trap?

He glanced at Harry, seeing him standing perfectly still as he was fitted in black and green robes. He knew, Harry was everything his Grandmother wanted him to be, well, other than being in Hufflepuff. Neville thought that was amusing, he worked in gardens as much as possible, he knew how fierce badgers could be. And he got the feeling she was going to find out, it was weird, knowing Harry was keeping quiet because he didn't want to upset him while also being the reason for the outbursts that were being held back.

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Sora stumbled as he dropped out of the Drive Form, every nerve feeling like it was on fire, shivering while he felt like he was boiling. He fell to one knee, bracing his hands on the ground, panting.

"Sora!" he heard Donald cry and then the wash of a Cure spell, and he screamed in agony, collapsing, body jerking out of his control.

"Sora? Can ya hear me?" Goofy called, gloved hands touching him, and all he could do was whimper.

"We have ta move him! The Heartless could be back any moment," their voices were too loud one minute and barely audible the next. "Sora you've got to try and be quiet," Donald told him, and he bit his lip as Goofy picked him up.

He vaguely realised they were back on the ship as he was stripped down to his pants and t-shirt before blankets were piled on and then he felt a sleep spell settle over him.

When he woke Goofy was sitting opposite the bench he was lying on, the knight jumping up as he noticed he was awake.

"How're ya feelin' Sora?" he asked, and Sora slowly tried to push himself up, Goofy moving to help.

"What happened?" he asked in confusion. "The Drive Form…"

"Somethin' went really wrong. You were….ya looked more like a Heartless."

Sora shrank back, feeling sick, staring at his hands. "Did…did I…" he couldn't say it.

"You don't remember?"

"Everything's all jumbled, hazy."

"Well, ya only went for the Heartless. Once they were gone, you paced about but didn't try ta hurt us."

"Oh…wish the fairies had warned me about that one."

Goofy and Donald agreed. Having to run back to the ship with him unconscious, through snow covered mountains and a Hun army out there could not have been fun. So despite still aching, he insisted they go back and find Ping.

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Harry smiled politely at everyone he was being introduced to, hoping he could remember them all. He'd never been to a ball before but….he didn't think it was very interesting. He saw Draco across the room and had to fight the urge to laugh when he rolled his eyes at him before turning back and being a little angel at his Mother's side.

Thankfully, no one had brought up what was going on at Hogwarts, then again it'd probably be bad manners to say their kids were alternating between blaming Harry and Draco for the attacks.

He felt Hermione tighten her hold on his arm and he smiled at her, quickly moving to the dance floor. It was obvious she was overwhelmed by the ball, not just because of the wealth on display.

"Breath," he whispered.

"How can you just…" she shook her head slightly.

"The same way I deal at school, I ignore it," he told her. He didn't like crowds, never had, probably came of growing up in a cupboard and games like Harry hunting. "They don't know you so their opinions don't matter. You're the smartest witch of our age and you have the magical power to back that up. Personally, I think they're inbreeding themselves into extinction," he explained, glad for the physical training he did, it made not stepping on her toes a lot easier.

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"Neville is an amazing person and a powerful wizard Madam Longbottom. He isn't his Father but why would he want to be?" Harry snapped at her, he'd tried all holiday but now she'd gone too far.

"How dare,"

He cut her off with a glare. "I dare because he is my friend! Do you really hate him that much for making it through that night alright when his Dad didn't?"

She recoiled as if he'd struck her, eyes wide.

"No one can live with the constant nagging and putdowns, the unrealistic expectations, especially when you then sabotage him so that he lives down to your expectations. Anyone can tell that wand isn't suited to him but you made him use it to 'honour' his Father. That is not honouring his memory. Neville has the raw power but like Ollivander says, the wand chooses the wizard!"

Harry stared at her but she remained silent, though he doubted it would last long. "I'll be taking Neville to get a new wand in the morning, you can come and show your support or not. Goodnight Madam." He gave a very shallow bow before leaving. That had felt good and she had it coming, but he also felt a little bad, she was an old lady after all. But Neville was his friend.

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Neville stared at his new wand in awe, smiling shyly at the comments from the others in their compartment. He didn't know what Harry had said to his Gran but they'd gone together as a group to buy it yesterday. Thirteen inches, cherry and unicorn hair, it…sang whenever he touched it. he couldn't believe how different it was to his Dad's.

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Harry jerked awake, panting, almost reaching for his back to check but he knew his skin was unmarked. He could still feel the phantom sting of the lashes as they bit into Vanitas' back. Xehanort…if they ever met Harry would be hitting him with every curse he could manage. The man was evil in a way even Voldemort wasn't. Vanitas had never rebelled and yet he'd been treated so badly and all for 'training', to make his Darkness stronger. Harry wished he could have known Vanitas, to reach out to him and show him that he didn't have to accept that treatment, didn't have to obey that bastard.

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Draco stared at the utterly still figure on the bed in shock, before glancing at Harry. Two of their friends were now victims, Justin…and Hermione. Harry's face was scarily blank even as he reached out to touch Hermione's outstretched hand, and then he turned, storming from the hospital wing. Draco watched him go and had the sinking feeling he was going to do something crazy.

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"Xion? Hey... Xion!" Roxas' voice snapped her out of her memories. "What's the matter with you today?" He asked, frowning.

"Sorry. My mind's on other things. Roxas, why are we doing all this? Working for the Organization?" She asked quietly.

"What do you mean, why? So we can get hearts of our own, right?" he kicked his legs slightly as they dangled over the edge of the clock tower.

"Why? What do we need hearts for?" she asked, needing to know.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "But I figure once we have them, we'll be in a better position to judge. Right?"

"Maybe. I just wish I knew what I was doing here. How I got here... I started having the strangest dreams," she admitted, staring down at the ground so far below.

"Really?"

Xion nodded. "I can never remember what they're about. I just wake up feeling like...like something is really wrong."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Xigbar said you and me were pretty special. "Exceptional," he said," he offered a shaky smile, obviously trying to cheer her up.

"...Special just means different. Because I'm a mistake."

Roxas shook his head vehemently. "You're not a mistake."

She stood up, not wanting to hear it. "Well, we may both be exceptional, Roxas. But I don't think we're the same," she walked away.

"Xion, wait," he called, but she ignored him, even though it hurt. The imposter was right, she was a sham. Roxas and Axel would be better off without her around.

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"Ah, Harry!"

He spun around to face the farce of a Defence teacher. "Unless you're going to tell me you know what petrified Hermione, where it is, and how to kill it, get lost you pathetic fraud!"

"Now Harry, I understand you're….oh my," he gulped and Harry could feel the Darkness rising inside of him, but he didn't try to push it back, just keep it under control. He did absently wonder if his eyes were a match for Vanitas'. Lockhart actually managed to draw his wand but Harry didn't bother with his. "You are the reason for my many troubles this year, and dip in popularity, and since you insist on those ridiculous court cases, then very well. Say goodbye to your memories. Don't worry, I'll tell them all you ran into the creature doing this but unfortunately it was too much for your mind to take," he smirked. "Obliviate!"

"Reflect," Harry murmured, feeling the magic settle around him. The spell worked perfectly, reflecting his spell right back at him. Harry watched him hit the wall and slide down it only to stare blankly up at him.

"Hello! Who are you…who am I?"

Harry ignored him, heading for Myrtle's bathroom. All of the attacks were centred around there. He found the hallway flooded and frowned but headed into the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down the same toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Myrtle?" he asked her.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me ...

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?" he was calming down from his confrontation with Lockhart thankfully.

Apparently, he had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know... I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out."

Harry looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but then hesitated. He'd heard all about cursed books and there was definitely Darkness lingering in the book….familiar Darkness. Great.

Harry took a deep breath and then picked it up, relieved when nothing happened. It was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name "T M. Riddle" in smudged ink, the rest was blank. That was odd, it felt like Voldemort's spirit had last year, so who was Riddle? Then again…who named their kid Voldemort?

Right, the bathroom was definitely linked to what was going on. The chamber had been opened fifty years ago and a student died…. "Hey Myrtle, how exactly did you die?" the others were going to kill him, but he had the better chance of dealing with whatever it was and it wasn't like the staff would be much help, except Professor Snape, but if it was Voldemort…

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question. "Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here, I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. Id hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then -" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" he pushed, some idea of what he might face would be nice, not to mention where he needed to go.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?"

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry hurried over to it, it looked like an ordinary sink. He examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Harry saw it: scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.

He carefully examined it visually, before daring to touch it, he couldn't 'feel' anything from it. So…what did he know about Slytherin's heir…Parseltongue. Great. Then again…there'd been that snake, could he? He stared at the snake, focusing hard, what on earth would the password be? Or would it be a password if the gift was supposedly so rare? $Open Sesame$ it was a silly try and he wasn't even sure it wasn't Engl…oh, it worked.

The tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

"If you die down there Harry, you can haunt my toilet," Myrtle said before he could move and he hid a shudder, it wasn't her fault she was like that.

"Thanks," and then he jumped.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as his, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons.

And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. He had to be miles under the school, maybe even under the lake going by the humidity.

"Lumos!" Harry muttered to his wand and it lit immediately. The tunnel was so dark that he could only see a little distance ahead, his shadow on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wand light.

The tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound he heard was a loud crunch as he stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what had killed them all, Harry kept going, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

He froze, watching, there was something up ahead. Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving. Maybe it was asleep? It looked like the world's biggest snake and he began mentally listing any massive species he'd ever heard mentioned, even in muggle stories.

As quietly as possible, Harry edged forward, his wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least. He really, really wished he had a Keyblade.

The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds. Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker. "Open, "said Harry, in a low, faint hiss. Okay, so the password up top had probably just been open too, thankfully. He guessed it was a relief to know whoever set it wasn't that crazy. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement because of Myrtle's words on how she had died. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

Okay, now what? He glanced down at the diary, dropping it as it glowed darkly, well, that couldn't be good. He aimed his wand but nothing else happened so eventually he began to explore. Eventually, he heard the inner door opening and darted behind a column, looked like he'd be finding out who was setting the snake loose.

He was utterly shocked to see the red hair of one Ginny Weasley, but then he saw how she was moving and he realised something was very wrong. She walked dreamily towards the diary and he couldn't let her touch it. He stepped out and aimed his wand. "Stupefy," he cast the spell they had learnt among the group, not class. It hit her before she could react and she collapsed…right on the diary, it really wasn't his day. He felt the Darkness surge around the two and then an image formed in the air of a boy, maybe a sixth or seventh year?

He was tall with black hair, and strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. He looked around and Harry drew back into the shadows. "I know you're there, come out." The boy commanded, and Harry hesitated, but then the other looked to Ginny and Harry had no choice, stepping into view.

"T. M. Riddle?" he asked, and Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face. "What have you done to her?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

Harry stared at him. T.M. Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet there he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. "Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Draco was going to kill Harry when they found him, and from the look on Neville's face, he might just help him. Lockhart had been found, somehow Obliviated by his own wand, in a corridor near Moaning Myrtle's. Not that he would blame Harry for doing it if he had, the man was a menace and should have been fired with Harry bringing charges against him, but he was too famous.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Why?" He asked, but Riddle just smirked. "How did Ginny get like this?" he tried instead.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. `My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second hand robes and books, how" -Riddle's eyes glinted "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her …" All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven- year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom ... I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in ... It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…" Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck and he could feel the Darkness deepening around them.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted ... I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"

And now Harry felt sick. He'd used her, he'd used an innocent eleven year old girl who just wanted a friend to attack the school. Harry's wand snapped up and he fired a spell, only to watch it pass through Riddle with no effect.

Yes," said Riddle, calmly, obviously reading that Harry had worked it out on his face. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries ... far more interesting, they became ... Dear Tom," he recited, watching Harry's horrified face, `I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and 1 don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, l can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me... There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad... I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"

Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his Palms. What could he do? Spells weren't going to work, he doubted anything physical would.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…of course you didn't write in it, coming right down here instead. Very clever of you to figure it out."

"And why did you want to meet me?" Harry asked, though he was pretty sure he knew why. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history. " His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and their expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. Killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been -you."

Harry stared at him.

"As soon as I realised you had come here, I knew what I had to do. Reaching her when she didn't have the diary in her possession was difficult but so worth the effort. So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her ... She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last ... I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Albus stared at the message on the wall, smiling inside. Perfect, once again the two would meet and one would survive, it better not be Potter. That boy was throwing off too many necessary plans. Granted, he had suspected young Ginevra and did wonder how Tom was controlling her. A pity for the Weasley's to lose their youngest and the first girl born to the family in centuries, but the Greater Good came first. He would try and save the girl if he could, it would help further cement the family's loyalty, except he had never discovered the Chamber, not even Fawkes could take him there.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

"Like what?" Harry spat, fists still clenched.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that you a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?" There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry slowly. "Voldemort was after your time," he'd so hoped he was wrong.

"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter…" He traced the air with a finger, writing three shimmering words: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry - I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"And the best you could come up with was Voldemort? What were you, five?" Harry found himself drawling and then bit back a grimace, that was a very Vanitas-like taunt…and yeah, he looked rather pissed now.

"You dare!"

"Besides, you're not," he said, his quiet voice full of hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Riddle.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is apparently Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days -" Harry shrugged like he didn't care at all.

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. He was so going to pay for that taunting, but Harry didn't care. He refused to cower from a memory.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Riku lay in the sand, fighting not to flinch as Donald worked on his injuries. He figured his wrist was a right off, it'd been far too long since Roxas had damaged it. He had hoped changing bodies would have healed it, but the injury had remained once he had been restored to himself. The wounds Xemnas had landed though, those the duck could heal, Sora and Kairi hovering, even as they held hands.

He was happy for them, he really was. He understood now, he didn't like her that way, not like Sora, he'd just been jealous about how much attention Sora paid her when they'd always been best friends. He would never try and get in the way again, he would just treasure whatever they were willing to give after everything he had done.

He knew the blow he'd taken to save Sora should have been deadly, that only the quick cure from Sora had kept it from killing him. And he definitely shouldn't have picked Mickey up, should have let Sora support him from the water, but he was too lost in joy to have cared about the wound at the time. He had thought they were trapped on that beach forever, that he would die and leave Sora in the Realm of Darkness alone. He could feel it healing under Donald's magic, ignoring the chiding words he was using. If he was still alive, then he'd live, but he knew he may have to deal with the effects of various wounds for some time, maybe even life, thanks to the delay in healing. All that mattered to him was that they had made it.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

"My parents stopped you when I was a baby! You were never the greatest wizard. The Founders, Merlin, there have been so many who were great. You're just psychotic!" Harry snarled at him. He reached for his magic, trying to think of something, anything. He was still on low level spells! He wished Aqua was there, she was the one who had focused on magic.

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size, helping the Darkness inside fade deeper within, the Light surging strong instead. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry, landing heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix," Riddle announced in shock, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes?" Harry breathed, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently. Draco had told him about the bird in the Headmaster's office, this was a phoenix? He was amazing!

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

Harry didn't answer. He might not see what use Fawkes was, but he was no longer alone, and he waited for Riddle to stop laughing with his courage mounting.

"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

Harry was thinking fast, weighing his chances. Riddle didn't have a wand but he seemed magic proof. Harry, had Fawkes, a form of wandless magic, and his wand, neither of which would be much good in a duel. It looked bad, all right ... but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny ... and in the meantime, Harry noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid ... If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul -"

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now ... there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself We even look something alike ... but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to do something. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapon Dumbledore can give him…"

He cast an amused eye over Fawkes, then walked away. Harry, fighting down his fear, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed - but Harry understood what he was saying ... $Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.$

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder. Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horror struck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout, "Don't leave me!" but what chance did a phoenix have against the Slytherin's pet which had to be as old as the school?

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

The basilisk was moving toward Harry; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way - Voldemort was laughing. Harry tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood, the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming

There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars. He couldn't help it - he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake, even as he took in everything and realised exactly what it was…a basilisk.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabres. Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned - Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

$NO!$ Harry heard Riddle screaming. $LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM. KILL HIMI$

The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.

"Help me, help me," Harry muttered wildly, "someone - anyone

The snake's tail whipped across the floor again. Harry ducked. Something soft hit his face.

The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. Harry seized it. It was all he had left, his only chance - he rammed it onto his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the basilisk's tail swung over him again.

Help me - help me - Harry thought, his eyes screwed tight under the hat. Please help me.

There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly. He scrambled up, going to raise his wand for all the good it'd do him against that, but it was gone, dropped when he'd been hit…and then he gasped as he felt a tug on his Heart. Light surrounded his hand and when it faded….Harry stared at the blade in awe, just knowing what it was called…Lost Memory…a Keyblade.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Lucius read Severus' message and stood, angry and worried. "Dobby!" he called and the elf appeared. "Fetch my cloak," he commanded, striding for the Floo.

"Lucius?" Narcissa called, rising in alarm at the suddenness of his leaving.

"A message from Severus," he answered.

She gasped, "Draco?"

"Is unharmed. Two students have been taken into the Chamber of Secrets; the Weasley girl and….Harry."

She paled but then nodded. "I am coming too."

"Narcissa," he began but she shook her head.

"The boy needs people to wait for him and…while our families fight, Molly will still need the comfort of another woman, another Mother."

"Very well, but you will be careful, we do not know what has been attacking the children."

"What of the Minister? He must act now," she said as she accepted her cloak from Dobby.

"He must or I shall destroy his position," Lucius answered before activating the Floo.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

The Lost Memory was an ornate Keyblade that was predominantly silver and ivory-coloured. The shaft was thin and smooth, with a fleur-de-lis-shaped spike at its tip. The teeth were made by a pair of uneven, silver wings framing a broken, bright red heart. The base of the blade was adorned by a simple, grey heart, and the handle was black. Two uneven wings decorated the Keyblade's guard, with the larger wing being on the same side of the weapon as the teeth. The Keychain had silver chain links and the token resembled a miniature version of the Keyblade's teeth; a bright red heart surrounded by silver wings. It was beautiful…and it felt so right in his hand compared to the practice blades he had been using.

$KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. SNIFF - SMELL HIM.$

Harry was on his feet, ready. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow him whole, lined with fangs long as his sword, thin, glittering, venomous -

It lunged blindly - Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed Harry's side. He dropped down, knees bent, Keyblade held at his back, similar to Ventus' stance but without the reverse grip.

The basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true. Harry threw his whole weight behind the blade and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth. As warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour. He struggled, tying to gather his magic to try and cast Esuna, not that he'd ever managed it before and he didn't know if it would help….

A patch of scarlet swam past, and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. "Fawkes," said Harry thickly. "You were fantastic, Fawkes…"

He felt the world go black, body slumping to the floor, unaware of the bird crying into his wound.

Everything was Dark but he wasn't scared. He could see someone dimly, a teenager, not Tom. This one had silver hair and was walking with his head bowed, like he carried the weight of the world. He kept looking around, for someone or something, and Harry hated the bleak look. "'Are you lost? Can I help?" he called and the boy looked towards him, but didn't seem to see him.

"Who are you?"

"Harry. You need to follow the Light," Harry could feel it far in the distance, behind him. He held his hand out and saw stunning cyan eyes widen.

"Riku," the other teen said, lifting his hand.

Harry felt their fingers brush, but it was an airy feeling, with no substance, and Riku drew back in fear. "Don't be afraid, the Light's this way. You have to try."

"You don't know what I've done," Riku shook his head.

"Well it's gotta beat dying which is what I'm doing," he shrugged. "Giant poisonous snake bite is not a nice way to go," he told the shocked teen. "Besides, how can you make up for whatever it was if you stay here?"

Riku stared at him before nodding slowly. "Thank you," he whispered, and Harry smiled at him. "Is there anything I can…" he stared at him helplessly, and Harry shook his head.

He felt warmth bloom through his body and looked down at his arm. "I think someone else is doing that. I hope I see you again one day Riku, in the Realm of Light." The Darkness was beginning to fade.

"Wait! What is your world called?" Riku asked.

Harry went to answer only to suck in a deep breath, coughing, staring at Fawkes who looked very pleased with himself.

He could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him. "You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying." Riddle laughed. "I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry... She bought you twelve years of borrowed time ... but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must . . . ."

,,,,,,,,

Pomona paced angrily, ignoring Severus and Minerva. One of her badgers was once again in deadly danger and…there was nothing she could do. She had sent word to Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom to inform them of what had happened. More should have been done to protect the students, but Albus wouldn't allow it. She hoped Amelia would set him straight, or Lord Malfoy who had just arrived, he was on the Board after all. She had never liked him but since Draco had befriended Harry, his politics had become more moderate, more grey than dark.

She knew she shouldn't have favourites, even in her house, but how could she help it with young Harry? He'd had no one to stand up for him for so long… he better survive! She had the feeling he was involved in Gilderoy's accident but at the moment she didn't care, she knew the boy wouldn't have raised his wand first.

,,,,,,,,,

Harry sighed and sat up, unable to stand listening to anymore monologuing. He glanced at his arm to see a pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound - except that there was no wound

"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him - I said, get away - Phoenix tears. - ." said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Of course ... healing powers ... I forgot…" He looked into Harry's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter ... you and me..." He raised a wand, Ginny's?

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap, the diary. For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry's Keyblade appeared in his hand as he rolled to his feet, aiming it at the dairy. He didn't have to think, letting instinct guide him, a beam of light emerging and hitting the diary.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then…he was gone. A cloud of something Dark rose from the Diary and still the beam remained. Harry was sweating, not used to such a pull on his power, but he refused to falter. The beam suddenly split, bursting out into the distance in multiple beams, and he staggered slightly. Just a little more…it cut out and he fell to his knees, gasping for air.

He didn't know what he'd done, he just knew Riddle was gone. Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just travelled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the diary, his Keyblade vanishing as it should.

Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes travelled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d- diddt mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r- remember is him coming out of the diary -"

"It's all right," said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the hole burnt into it by the beam, "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here."

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and… w…what'll Mum and Dad say?"

Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

He looked up at the bird. "Mind giving us a hand?" he asked and Fawkes seemed to laugh before flying to hover before him. He reached out and gripped the offered feathers and then they vanished.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Albus watched as Narcissa Malfoy actually comforted Molly Weasley, Lucius and Severus across the room speaking quietly. The Weasley children were pale, huddled together, their Father with them.

He was utterly shocked when there was a flash of flame and then Molly shrieked at the sight of a bloody Harry Potter supporting young Ginevra. How?

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Dobby stared in awe at the Great Harry Potter. He had destroyed the diary! He was even Greater than Dobby had imagined!

TBC…

So technically, Harry and Riku have now met! Not that they know enough to try and find each other.

Just had to end with Dobby!

Long chap but I wanted to finish second year.

And I addressed anti-form cause everyone saying nothing just seems very weird. And it's a good way for Sora to point out to Riku that he isn't lost just because of his inner Darkness.