Chapter Two: Souls, Weapons, And The God of Death
Harry lay on the floor of the chamber of secrets, staring upwards as he felt the basilisk poison work it's way through his veins. He was dying. He knew he was dying. He was oddly at peace with dying.
Harry, who had endured the subtle, and sometimes blatant, abuse from his relatives, wasn't really that sad to go and not entirely because of the previously mentioned relatives. Part of it was his parents. He was sure that he would meet his parents in the afterlife, and despite all of the new friends and people he cherished, he felt that that reason alone would be worth it, even if he'd not been abused at all in his life.
He felt a light smile adorn his face as the edges of his vision started to go black. Strangely, as the blackness began to devour his sight more completely, it began to lighten. By the time it had all but blinded him it was a pure white color.
That was when he noticed a flash of red in what was left of his vision.
He was kind of sad when Fawkes showed up and cried into the basilisk bite. But he didn't hold it against the legendary bird of rebirth. He supposed he'd just have to wait a while longer to meet his parents. Instead of moping about it, however, he grabbed the sorting hat, shoved the sword back into it, and took Ginny Weasely's limp hand.
"Fawkes, Can you get us out of here?" he asked the bird weakly, still suffering from the damage the poison had done before the bird had appeared.
Fawkes gave a trill that put another serene smile on the face of the Boy-Who-Lived as it grabbed onto his shoulder and began to beat its wings.
"One of the many amazing abilities of the phoenix," Harry said in praise of the beautiful raptor of legend, "the power to lift things far beyond the capability of an average bird."
The rest of that night and the next day were a blur to Harry. He met with Dumbledore and Draco's Father, Lucious, freed Dobby, was there for Hermione waking up, watched as Gryffindor was presented with the most house points for the year again, and finally had Ginny thank him repeatedly for saving her from Tom.
It just all felt so... bland after having nearly died. He just couldn't seem to care much about any of it, except for perhaps waking up Hermione. It was like nearly dying had opened his eyes to how trivial everything really was that he'd previously thought so important. He did put up a facade that no one had seen through yet, but that wouldn't last long with Ron and Hermione and he knew it.
He would laugh later when he found out that it would be Draco friggin' Malfoy that would return the color of things to the world for him. He would laugh harder when he realized that the previous sentence almost sounded as if he just discovered his undying love for the inbred, daddy's boy.
It was on the Hogwarts Express home that Draco lended an unknowingly helpful hand.
"So you survived," Draco said with a sneer, his flunkies behind him as usual, "too bad, and I'd hoped I could have a year without the spreading rumors of how great such a pathetic halfblood who wouldn't bloody die is, when we all know he isn't. The least you could have done was leave the weaselette to die and done us all a favor."
Ron was turning several shades of red, Hermione looked almost ready to resort to inventing spells for ripping out fingernails slowly and practicing them on the colossal prick, and Harry was mouth agape staring straight at Malfoy.
"What's the matter, Potter? Cat got your tongue? Or did you finally find out that it's better if you keep your mouth shut to keep from looking any more stupid than you are?"
Finally Ron had had enough and jumped up hi wand pointed at Malfoy with the intent to cause him bodily harm, Hermione was up a moment later forcing him to lower his wand, Harry was still staring.
"That's right, Weasel, do what the mudblood wants. At least she knows when she faces her betters," Malfoy had a smug grin on his face as he said this. His thugs were chuckling to themselves, though they didn't quite understand why. Draco had just told them to chuckle everytime he said something about mudbloods.
Hermione resisted the urge glare at the blonde again and instead said to Ron, "Just ignore him, Ron. The ramblings of a boy from a family so many times inbred that they can only produce an heir through artificial insimination is of no consequence to those who know the difference between sister and wife."
Now Draco turned red, "How dare you?! My father will hear of this!" And he stormed off, his lackeys following.
Ron and Hermione sat back down after Ron congratulated Hermione on a brilliant retalitory strike the like of which he'd seen so very few times, if not in so many words.
Harry was staring.
"Harry," Hermione began, wondering if the insensitive things Malfoy had said had gotten to the black haired boy, " are you alright?"
"I...I..." Harry couldn't speak. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. It...it had to be impossible, some sort of halucination, an aftereffect of the poison.
When Harry had glared at the git he got a look at, what he could only guess was, Draco's soul. It was about the size of a basket ball and white, pure white, and yet it just seemed so dirty, as if it was tainted by something foul that simply couldn't be seen, only felt.
When Ron stood up he saw his soul as well. It was smaller than Draco's, about the size of a grapefruit, and was a fiery orange color with a few bits of green here and there. It felt so different than Draco's though. It just felt good, like it was made of gold in its raw form. Something inside of him told him that this was proof of Ron's ability for compassion, something Draco clearly lacked, it was what made Ron his friend.
And then Hermione stood up. Her soul was soft pink, had a feeling of acceptance and happiness in it that almost made him feel drunken, and was the size of a beach ball. There was one other difference.
At the very center of Hermione's soul was a switchblade with a blue handle, a shiny black, seven inch blade, and a beautiful moon carved into the handle. This part of her soul reeked of power unknown.
He simply couldn't put into words what he had seen. He had no idea how to explain to his friends that he could suddenly see, and apparently read, souls.
"You shouldn't let what he said get to you, Harry," Hermione said, snapping Harry out of his stupor.
"I... know... I-I... I need to walk around for a bit, clear my head," He said finally and stood up. Just as he was about to leave he turned back to them, "I'll be alright, I promise."
Ron and Hermione looked unsure, but allowed him to leave anyway.
Harry wasn't technically lying. He did use the time to clear his head, but he also used it to try and find out what the hell was going on with his eyes. He would carefully look at the people he came across. Everyone of them, he could see their souls, each was different in it's own way. Some were large, like the seven year students, others were small, like the firsties, they were all different colors, some even had defining features, like Oliver Wood, whose soul was the shape of a Golden Snitch.
After a while he went back to the compartment with Ron and Hermione and pretended to be better, but inside he was still trying to desperately figure it out.
Again it was meeting someone that he disliked that made things better.
"...And you will not practice any of that freakishness in my house! Do you understand boy?"
As with Draco, Harry was silent, though only at first.
With his aunt and cousin watching he walked up to his uncle so he was within arms reach.
"I can see it," Harry said softly.
"See what?!" Vernon demanded.
"Right there," he placed a finger on the middle of his uncle's chest, "I can see your soul right there. It even has your mustache. It isn't speaking, per say, but it is telling me things, things about you, things about aunt Petunia, things about Dudley, about everyone that has a soul," he turned his eyes to his cousin and aunt in turn and continued, "Your souls are telling me that you are mean, self absorbed, selfrighteous, greedy people."
"I will not be insulted by a-"
"Freak?" Harry interrupted his uncles tirade, "A word you secretly apply to yourself in the mirror every morning. You say it to yourself because of all the things you have the one thing you lack is the sense of right and wrong. You seek out normalcy so dilligently so others don't suspect the sosciopath hidden inside you. You tell people things about me, lies, to make your rages and punishments appear justified when all it is is a realease for the urges you know aren't normal.
"You call me a freak because I can do magic, but you turn away from me when I show compassion, gratitude, happiness, and all the other emotions you simply play act because you know that if you pay attention to them, acknowlege the fact that I even have them, then you also have to acknowledge that, out of everyone in this house, I am the closest to normal." Harry pulled his finger off Vernon's chest and the fat man fell to his rear, staring up at Harry in horror. "I'll be in my room if you need me, uncle."
That one speach, instead of creating more anger directed at him, inspired true fear in his relatives. It was the most pleasant summer of his life. The Dursleys didn't serve him or anything silly like that, but they left him alone for the most part. They gave him chores, but nothing like the rediculously long lists of the past. He was even allowed to eat full meals.
If Harry had been a might nastier, a little more petty, he could have decided fear was a good thing. But he didn't. If there was one thing he knew from all his years under that roof it was that fear would never bring him what he really wanted. Love. The thought of using fear to rule others never even crossed his mind.
It was the day of his thirteenth birthday when something happened that would change the world as Harry knew it.
Harry recieved a black package in the mail, no return address, with a kind of humorous looking skull on the front of it.
+--- End Chapter Two---+
A/N: I know it might be a bit annoying, but for the first four or so chapters, I'll be switching back and fourth between past and present. But I hope you like what is available so far. I'm sorry its so short.