The Second Chance

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything of Harry Potter. This story is inspired by Kurinoone's awesome amazing story 'The Darkness Within', which was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's wonderful fic- 'A Shattered Prophesy'.

I deeply, humbly apologise for the long wait! As for the progress of this story, you can read up a small paragraph on my profile page to see where this is going.

Huge and maganamious maximus thanks to Manu, Biaa Black Potter, Katherine Sparrow, Nightcrawlerfw, Phoenixx Rising, Azzy97, Ash-Bookworm 113, Kimco96, mikey1048, Raquelgdc, G, Shadow Hunter, v1cky84 (thanks so much for your long review! :D), Nyra Lily Potter, HazelMidnight20918, coolchickdiv, (thanks a million for such a long review too!), Black Panther 101, LadyGryffin17, Izzy-I.R.T, Jaffaninja, Oirasse and Allie Danger, your reviews were so encouraging, you kept me inspired even when I was sitting in the darkest corner of the exam hall. :D Thanks so, so much!

Brief summary for those who have forgotten what happened in the last few chapters:

James is now held captive together with Sirius in Azkaban after his plans to plant a tracking charm on Rosier Sr. failed. Meanwhile at Hogwarts, Kit finds out that Voldemort's story does not fit with what Damien thinks is the truth, after questioning the younger boy under Veritaserum. In the duel between Draco and Kit, Kit a.k.a Harry accidentally reveals his blue shield to the entire Hogwarts population when the Slytherin casts a dark curse at him. In the last chapter, Damien no longer trusts Kit, and Kit's actual identity is in slight jeopardy. Kit has also perfected his plans for Voldemort to attack Hogwarts, but it involves the bloodshed of hundreds of students. All is ready, but Harry is not...

xXx

Chapter 19: Recall

Kit walked down the corridor alone, his footsteps leading him towards the library. It was dinner in a few minutes, but he did not feel in the least hungry. It did not help that the atmosphere was a bit tense at the Gryffindor table- at least for him, at any rate- as he noticed that the youngest Potter's gaze always landed on him suspiciously when Damien thought he wasn't looking. He'd noticed straightaway of course- the Gryffindor wasn't the least bit subtle, and he had been trained by Voldemort himself to be alert at all times.

However, tonight he had more pressing matters on hand. He did not have the chance to sneak off to the library yesterday after the duel, but today hopefully no one would notice his absence. There was to be a duel between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff soon, anyway.

As soon as he stepped into the library, Madam Pince's head snapped up to meet his eyes, her face suggesting suspicion. Kit took the oppurtunity to approach the counter, his manner trying to be nonchalant.

"Good evening, Madam," he began, breaking the silence that stretched between with a small polite smile. "I was wondering if there are any copies of recent Daily Prophets in the school? Beginning from mid last year."

The librarian's frown increased with full intensity as she scruntinised him. "May I ask why do you need them?" she said a bit snappily. "And don't you tell me it's a project, it's all they say-"

"No, of course not," Kit replied smoothly. "It's just... I'm a transfer student from overseas, and this is my first year here. A lot of things seemed to have happened over the past year, and they say there's a fearsome Dark Lord roaming around... the students talk about it a lot, but I have no idea what is going on all the time. So I decided to find out for myself."

It was partly true, like the best of lies... but Kit was not happy with it. It sounded as though he were a bit needy, trying to fit into society...

Madam Pince, however, merely shrugged and turned her back on the counter. "As a matter of fact, we do have a very systematic copy of the Daily Prophet. Wait here," she said, and promptly disappeared into a door behind her.

Surprisingly, it took her a total of less than five seconds to produce the copies of the Daily Prophet. She leviated the two precarious stacks of Daily Prophets before her and landed them none too gently onto the counter between them. "As this is the Daily Prophet," she began, gesturing to the huge piles. "Those are all the Daily Prophets from the September first to December first last year."

Kit stilled a bit at the last sentence, but he accepted it with a smile and a word of thanks. Then he promptly leviated the pile to a darker corner of the library, away from Madam Pince's eyes, and began the spell.

It was not complicated, but the specific charm that summoned all the articles with the keywords 'Harry Potter' was not specific enough, for Kit soon found himself completely surrounded and nearly buried by flying Daily Prophets. Instantly he was thankful he had cast a Silencing and Notice me Not Charm around that particular corner- he didn't want Madam Pince to be aware of what he was doing... though perhaps she already had.

He directed the wand movement again, and the pages immediately began to flutter around, responding to his wishes.

It turned out that the keyword 'Bellatrix Lestrange' produced considerably less results, and this time, Harry found the article without much effort at all.

He felt his breath leave him as his eyes fell upon the picture splashed across the front page, the words in bold red print emblazoned across the article "DARK PRINCE LEAVES WITH DEATH- EATERS". He could see himself clearly, emerald eyes taunting, his mouth a triumphant smirk, hand in Bellatrix's, who was laughing, as the battle rampaged around behind them both in the background.

It wasn't possible. It just wasn't, because his father himself had promised him that Bellatrix had died by the hands of the Order early last year, it must have been the truth. His father, surely, wouldn't have lied-

And it was just as that single thought, when his scar flared with such intensity he dropped the prophet, his fingers flying to the lightning bolt mark on his forehead.

His fingers came away stained with red.

Damien had felt ill at ease throughout the entire day ever since his meeting with Kit in the Room of Requirement yesterday night. It didn't help that he did not have the comforting weight of the Layhoo Jisteen around his neck, as he had forgotten to put it back on what with his accidentally getting drunk during the impromptu party the Gryffindors had thrown.

"You're not eating much," commented Ron lightly, eyeing the youngest Potter before him, who was playing with the stew on his plate, not actually eating anything.

Damien shook his head. "I don't feel like it," he replied.

Ron paused a while, before saying, "It's about Kit, isn't it?"

Damien didn't even bother to deny it. "You know it is," he said, his voice dropping low just in case the Gryffindor transfer student was about.

Ron sighed. "I know he's a bit weird sometimes, and the shield was a lot like Harry's... but Dumbledore himself admitted that anyone else with the same skill could have done it. Kit's not exactly friendly at times, I give you that... but I still don't see why you have a problem with him."

The younger wizard merely shook his head, looking for a some reason a tad conflicted.

"He's just... different. We've known him for almost two weeks, we live in the same dormitory and eat together... yet it feels as though we don't know him at all. His personality changes, all the time. He doesn't talk much. Sometimes he's easy to annoy, sometimes... he's just cool and unaffected... I don't know. He makes me extremely... on edge, I guess." He refrained from mentioning the Room of Requirement part, which was actually the main reason where all these ill feelings stemmed from.

Just then, there was a cry from the Slytherin table, drawing his attention away from his present worries. It was Rosier Jr., and his face was contorted in pain. His sleeve also seemed to be stained dark red, with no seemingly obvious injury at all... and with a chill down his spine, Damien noticed that it was Rosier's left sleeve stained with, what he suspected was- blood.

Even before the younger Slytherin quickly rose to leave the hall, Damien left his seat quickly, his heart pounding for no apparent reason. Perhaps it was paranoia, one of the after effects of being mind- wiped... or perhaps it was just an instinct. He ran back to the Gryffindor tower without a glance back or an explaination, just to find the Layhoo Jisteen.

xXx

Upon arriving at the Gryffindor's boy dormitory, Damien immediately leapt up the staircase and rushed to his bed, his hands scrabbling for the bottom of his trunk before he actually got his breath back. His fingers found the cool black stone almost immediately, and Damien actually felt suddenly relieved, the tension drained from his body.

As he realized this, though, it did nothing to calm his nerves. Why was he being this paranoid and edgy? What was wrong with him?! Was he becoming this way because he was too dependent on the Layhoo Jisteen? Or was it because- because whatever happened to him at the Room of Requirement. He had a strong feeling that he had been mind- wiped, but of course he had no way to prove it.

But what in the world could have happened? Why would Kit mind- wipe him? Surely there had to be a plausible reason... perhaps he had stumbled upon one of Kit's dark secrets in the Room? Was that why the transfer student decided to Obliviate his memory of that meeting?

At the thought of this, a chill stole over him once more, and feeling extremely uneasy, Damien quickly looped the Layhoo Jisteen once more around his neck.

A memory charm, such as the Obliviate, is actually a charm to blur out a specific memory in the mind from being sensed, thus the illusion that one does not remember said memory- so technically, the memory is not removed, but blanked out by a charm. And unbeknownst to Damien, not only could the Layhoo Jisteen protect the wearer from charms, hexes and spells- it could undo any detected charm cast upon the wearer. And that was why, promptly after Damien put on the pendant, his head began to pound in earnest, as the confused memories of yesterday night came flooding back to him with ferocious intensity.

With a muffled groan of agony, Damien sank onto the floor beside his four- poster bed, hands clenched into fists, into darkness.

Professor Dumbledore's office, Previous night after the duel

Professor Dumbledore sat across the younger Slytherin, his midnight blue eyes dark, its twinkle lost beneath the shadows. For a moment, they merely appraised each other- Draco trying his best to avoid any eye contact and act as though he weren't trying to do so, while simultaneously praying that his Occlumency barriers still held strong. Although he did not have much confidence on that matter.

"Do you have a vaild explaination about your actions tonight?" Dumbledore said at last, with a sigh, as he leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving the student before him.

Draco thought for a moment before replying carefully, "I do, but it is not one you would deem valid."

"Pray tell, Draco," Dumbledore said easily, though his manner was far from carefree.

The younger wizard shrugged, appearing nonchalant. "I would have thought it was obvious," he replied. "Mason was going to win. I couldn't let him. I was desperate, so I cast the most vicious curse I could think of at that moment, without much thought on the consequences. I... apologise for my actions, and would accept any form of punishme-"

"The truth, Draco," said Dumbledore, his voice suddenly holding more power than he did before, his face growing serious. "Please."

Was it really that obvious? Draco inwardly cringed. He had rehearsed this line over and over in his head even as he was transported away from the ring where he duelled with Kit. Surely he had sounded convincing... just not enough.

He remained silent, his eyes dropping to the table between them, not caring to answer. Dumbledore saw through his act, his facade. There was no more point in continuing to lie, and there was no way he was going to tell the professor the truth. It was too... private. And it did not involve Albus Dumbledore.

The Headmaster seemingly realized this, as he continued to speak in a weary tone. "What you have done tonight, Draco- though it was not as Dark as the Unforgivable curse... you do realize that the torturing spell you aimed at Kit is almost enough for the Ministry to press charges for your wand to be snapped, even here at Hogwarts."

"But I thought Hogwarts was all about learning," he countered, still refusing to meet Dumbledore's eyes. "Why is it we are only allowed to learn weaker, light spells? What is wrong about learning a few Dark spells?"

That was a question Harry had voiced one too many times in front of Draco, and to be honest, Draco had always wanted to bring the question to the Headmaster's face himself. The school syllabus was completely absymal, and the thought that they actually had hope to defeat Voldemort's army with a few flimsy hexes was undeniably, cringe- worthy.

Dumbledore seemed to stiffen a bit at this question, though outwardly his countenance did not waver. "That seems a familiar question to me, Draco," he told the younger boy. "A former student of mine asked me the same once."

He studied Draco for a reaction and quickly found one, a slight tightening of his fingers around his dragon heartstring wand, though barely noticeable. "I'm not surprised," the Slytherin replied. "That student of yours might have been the one who brought it to me at Hogwarts."

"Oh no, I don't think so," Dumbledore said lightly, "Seeing as Harry claims him as his father, I would think the age difference would be too great for you both to meet as students. Nevertheless, let's come back to you. What really triggered such a response from you?"

This time, Draco forgot not to look Dumbledore straight in the eyes. "I'm not sure myself," he replied evenly. "So I highly doubt you will find an answer."

There was a pause of silence, before Draco straightened with an air of dismissal. "Is there anything else you wish to say to me, Professor? I assure you I will not repeat such a stunt at Hogwarts again... so can you just hand me out my detention just so I can leave?"

In truth, Draco was getting unnerved being in such close proximities with Dumbledore for such a long period of time. His father Lucius had long since warned him against Dumbledore and his Mind Arts when Draco was young. And he was keeping quite a lot from Dumbledore, who was talented in the art of prying into other people's business- in his opinion. It was tiring to keep up a constant shield around his mind while playing Dumbledore's game, he was afraid that despite his best methods, he had let something slip.

"Of course, Draco," Dumbledore replied with a slight smile, the unnerving twinkle in his eyes appearing once more. "You will be serving dentention with Professor Snape from tomorrow onwards, he will inform you of the details during your classes later." Despite everything, Dumbledore did not seem very concerned with Draco's punishment. "But as for an answer, Draco... I think I have already found one."

Draco ignored the statement, striding over towards the door, before his hand froze on the door knob.

...Or perhaps, he had let something slip by.

He hated Dumbledore, with every fibre of his being.

He turned around once more, with a mask of nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed steel. "By the way, Professor," he said lightly, "just so to remind you, Harry Potter, or the Chosen One or whatever you'd like to call him is dead. He's not going to save the Wizarding World anymore, contrary to what you believe... so it would be prudent to accept reality by now. I noticed that you still use present tense when talking about him, hence the delusion that he is still around to save the world again. Good night, Professor."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Dumbledore's azure eyes widen in something akin to surprise, then Draco closed the door between them.

He allowed himself a small smirk as he walked down the corridor, back to the Slytherin Common Room.

Caught you.

xXx

Draco had been staying abroad with his mother following the week in which Harry died by Voldemort's hands, and when he had shown himself as a traitor to the Dark Lord as he chose his best friend over his sworn allegiance as a Death- Eater. He had not been given the Dark Mark yet, but if nothing had gone so absolutely awry last year, he would have been one of the Inner Circle members now.

However, when news spread that Hogwarts was actually reopening this year, somehow his parents had been in contact with each other again, and Draco was sent back to Malfoy Manor alone, a week before September first. His father had been extremely on edge throughout the week, and he thought he could understand why- Lucius was practically considered as betraying the Dark Lord for not handing Draco over as a traitor. But one way or another, somehow, Draco's life was spared... and no Death- Eaters came around to murder him.

For a while Draco did not dwell much upon it, but as he trained by himself in the grounds of Malfoy Manor, trying to remember the last scraps of duelling techniques his best friend had once taught him, he couldn't help but puzzle over the pieces- why his father was always absent. He noticed that Lucius never returned for almost four days straight, leaving him to be attended to by the House Elves.

And he couldn't help but think, Lucius never stayed out the night except for previous occasions, when he had been in a Death Eater raid, or when Harry was at Riddle Manor. The two always had much to discuss, Lucius being one of the few Harry liked to reveal his plans to first before he brought it to his father.

Seeing as there was no Death Eater raid he heard going around, except for the one in Greville Town- in which Lucius actually had been around- Draco felt pretty suspicious of what the Dark Lord was planning, and why was his death not ordered yet. Not that he was eager to die so soon.

He guessed the Dark Lord and Lucius was busy training a substitute for Harry... but it didn't make sense, as Harry was virtually irreplaceable. None could combat his skill nor power, except the Dark Lord himself. Or perhaps Dumbledore too. And so his second guess led to they were actually training a student spy to plant in Hogwarts instead. Lucius had mentioned previously that the Dark Lord had been toying with such an idea before, as Dumbledore would be less suspicious of a student, had would be obliged to protect said student even if the spy turned his back on the Light side.

Despite himself, when he returned to Hogwarts alone- Crabbe and Goyle were understandably no longer his cronies but enemies- Draco found himself searching keenly for the spy Voldemort planted among all the Death Eaters' sons, and he quickly narrowed his guess to Rosier Jr., for so far, he knew that the boy was only capable junior Death Eater among the rest.

At first, he had thought that was the end of it, but then Potions class came, when he was paired with a transfer student, Kit Mason, typically from Gryffindor the way Draco's luck was going. For the entire lesson he had been alarmed and mentally tortured by the Gryffindor, but after he had calmed down enough to reflect on the memory, he couldn't help but reflect on the ease in which Kit mentioned his father's name.

'Lucius taught you well', he had said.

As though Kit had known his father well.

And wasn't Kit supposed to be a transfer student from abroad?! How could he possibly have known who his father was?

He continued to ignore the fact, though it gnawed him again when Kit's outstanding performance in Defense class drew much attention and applause to the previously somewhat pseudo- incompetent brat.

When he agreed to being Rosier's duelling partner, he'd never imagined himself duelling Kit of all people, but when the opportunity presented himself, he couldn't resist. Perhaps, he admitted, his time spent growing up with Harry had made him more inquisitive about puzzles and troubles than he ought to be. So he decided to test the boy, just to see if he was Voldemort's spy in deep undercover (how in the world did the Dark Lord's spy manage to get into Gryffindor was beyond him).

He purposely dropped his wand, acting as though it were an accident, just to gauge Kit's reaction. Death- Eaters normally jumped to embrace glory, whether they rightfully earned it or not. But Kit was different; he merely paused then signalled for Draco to pick up his wand once more.

He decided to try and test the Gryffindor's limits one last time. It was reckless and impulsive, even more so for a Slytherin, but he was tired of abiding by limits and expectations. He fired a Dark curse at the boy when he the boy was unaware, and waited, almost hungry, for the transfer student's reaction.

What he was expecting, it definitely wasn't that. He was shocked to say the least, to see the brilliant blue shield expand once more, and witness his spell fizzling out pathetically as it came into contact with such raw power. He only managed to morph his expression into one of knowing and taunting, as though he knew all about Kit to make the supposed transfer student uneasy, before he was transported out of the ring by Dumbledore.

Back to present

Kit was leaning over him, his eyes dark and unmistakably dangerous. He felt his breath catch, unexplainable fear stealing over him as he realized he could not move, that his will was no longer his own. His brain felt numb, yet something deep inside him was fighting and panicking... it was a weird yet horrifying sensation, he did not quite know what to make of it.

"I have questions for you," Kit spoke suddenly, his eyes gazing right into his, sending chills up his spine. "A year ago, how was Harry Potter captured by the Order?"

He realized by now, too late- he was completely powerless against the elder boy. A part of him was still alert and fighting the spell, but his energy was already beginning to fade. Much against his will, the words were tumbling out, he couldn't stop himself. He told Kit everything, beginning from when his dad caught the Dark Prince, to when Harry was brought to Hogwarts. He practically told Kit how Harry was initially indifferent to all of them, and how he still saved their lives from the Daywalkers during the attack.

"When was the Imperius Curse placed on Harry Potter?" Kit asked once more, his tone demanding, power suffocating.

He struggled weakly, actually managed to thrash about before spitting the words, "He was never placed under the Imperius Curse."

He saw Kit' expression harden, emotions chasing across the elder Gryffindor's face, before once more sliding neatly behind a mask of indifference. He continued talking, he told Kit that he freed Harry, and watched him take Bellatrix's hand and Apparate away, while the Order was powerless to do anything about it.

The spell ended abruptly as the last sentence left his mouth, Kit's eyes snapped to him, burning with alarming ferocity.

And he was struggling once more, thrashing wildly, uncaring- all he knew was that he had to break out of the spell that stripped him of his will, his power-

The spell lifted completely, releasing him from its clutches. For a moment he lay there panting, heart beating wildly, before his eyes met Kit's... they were an absolute dark, black.

Damien started backwards, at the same time Kit blinked, and his eyes were replaced by a stunning shade of-

Green. Emerald green, he could have recognized them anywhere.

He jerked back in shock, his mind completely numb as though he were still under the spell, unable to process what was happening. Somewhere in the background, Hermione was hammering wildly on the door- in the next second, there was a rush of blinding light, a spell engulfing him. He managed a strangled cry, fear, pain and above all, disbelief mingling in his voice, even as the light blinded him- and he fell into unconsciousness.

...he was struggling, against the spell, yet there was no spell- it had already been lifted...

"No," he murmured, derilous, his hand still fisted around the pendant around his neck- yet he was in the Room of Requirement, the Layhoo Jisteen could not protect him-

"Damien! Damy, wake up!"

There was an urgent voice calling him, yet he couldn't respond- he felt like he was not in control- there was something missing...

SLAP.

"AHH!" Damien shot upright, breathing heavily, scooting backwards at the same time, his eyes wide with panic. He was met by the scene of his two best friends standing over him, looking extremely concerned.

Ron looked at his own hand guilitily. "Did I slap that hard?"

The bushy haired girl ignored Ron completely, opting instead to kneel down before the youngest Potter, who was still shaking after relieving that memory. "What happened, Damy? Are you alright?" Hermione began, her brow knitting in concern. "We came here to get you to leave- but when we found you, you were lying there twitching on the floor- we thought you'd been poisoned!"

"No, no," Damien shook his head, "Hermione, I-"

Then part of what Hermione said registered in his befuddled brain. "What do you mean get me to leave?" he questioned.

This time, it was Ron who answered.

"The Death- Eaters have come to attack," he said grimly. "They are closing in on us as we speak. The barriers ought to hold up, but... Dumbledore wants all the students gathered in the Great Hall."

Damien struggled to get up. His mind was reeling with so many things happening almost at once, he was once again struck in a dilemma-

The blue shield, expanding in the middle of the Great Hall-

Those words- When was the Imperius Curse placed on Harry Potter?!

Black, then the brilliant shade of emerald green-

"No, no," Damien repeated, shaking his head, his fists clenched- he never realized his was burying his head in his hands, rocking backwards and forwards, as though trying to rid himself of reality that had suddenly crashed down upon him. This could not be happening again. Harry was dead-

"...it might be just like what I predicted," he heard Hermione's worried voice in the background, "Damien is a Secret Keeper, so his magic is tied with the wards'. If the wards are weakened, his magic might be too- but that is only supposed to happen if an individual carriers a great amount of magic and raw power..."

"...but the Death Eaters haven't started attacking us yet... have they?"

"I don't know, Ron- the wards include half of the Forbidden Forest as well... for all we know, they could already have."

"But I'm fine! Does that mean I have less magic or something?"

"That's not the issue, we need to hurry-"

"The Marauder's Map!" Damien exclaimed suddenly, before whirling on Ron, his eyes suddenly wide, infecting the red headed Weasley before him with his panic. "Does Kit know the password, did you ever let slip it to him?!"

Ron started, "No! I never-" before he paused, remembering. "I may have, when we were checking the parchments in Filch's office to see whether if they were- hey! What are you-"

"Damy, where are you going- come back!" Hermione cried, actually running after him, but Damien paid his friends no heed.

"Go back to the Great Hall, I'll meet you there!"

With that last echoing call, the youngest Potter vanished round the corner.

When Ron and Hermione reached the Great Hall, two students from Gryffindor were reported missing- namely Damien Potter and Kit Mason.

Harry was swearing mentally over and over again even as red clouded his vision. Blood was seeping free and fast through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do, no spell he attempted that could stench the flow. What was going on?! His scar never hurt with such ferocity before, even when he was within close proximities of his father. What was making it work up like this?

It was only when Dumbledore's voice over the Sonorus Charm sounded all around Hogwarts, did he know what was happening.

"Attention all school staff and students, please report to the Great Hall immediately..."

Hogwarts was under attack.

He had just spoken to his father only this morning, so there was no reason for Voldemort to suddenly come storming to Hogwarts, except if- his father could sense his thoughts. Perhaps Voldemort had cast a charm on him, a modified version of the Specific Summoning Charm... and if his thoughts ever strayed too far to finding out the truth, if his thought processes connected a few keywords... his scar would inflict pain on him, and Voldemort would know...

As if to confirm his thoughts, pain immediately burst from Harry's scar with renewed vigour, causing him to gasp in pain. When Madam Pince came rushing out of the door behind the counter, eyes wide, he quickly cast a Befuddlement jinx on her and a Disillusionment Charm on himself in rapid succession. It was only when the confused woman looked around one last time and left her precious library, locking the door behind her, did Harry allow the charm to fade.

Quickly, Harry forced himself into action, ignoring the pain for the moment, as his fingers trailed across the now heavily bloodstained Prophet. He might never get a chance like this ever again, not after he returned to his father-

Immediately, almost as if on cue, pain stabbed him like thousands of vicious knives, such ferocious agony that Harry cried out, buckled over by the intense burning of his scar. Blood was pouring out incessantly, his face was half covered with blood. Already he could feel his grip on the world of consciousness slowly fading...

Why was Voldemort so protective, so afraid that Harry would dig in deeper into the story, to discover the truth? There was but one answer, but Harry did not want to entertain it, nor could he, as pain consumed him everytime his thoughts drifted-

Because he lied.

Harry felt his elbow hit the floor, his entire vision was dark and hazy. He could barely think nor see, all that existed was pain-

In his semi- conscious form, he never heard the library door click open softly, nor did he see a figure enter quickly, heard the sharp intake of breath. But as the pain slowly subsided, Harry managed to push himself upright. His scar was still bleeding, raw and painful, but he managed to push it into the corner of his mind- he had to get out to his father.

Reading the Daily prophet was no longer an option, the pain would just attack him until he was rendered helpless once more, and this time he might not regain consciousness. It was only after he had cast a cleaning charm on himself to wipe all traces of blood, be it on himself or on the floor, did he allow himself to leave.

It was then when he sensed a presence close to him, hiding.

Harry pretended not to notice, before suddenly turning round the corner, sharp. He caught the intruder at once.

It was none other than Damien Potter. He had a knuckle stuffed in his mouth. What was wrong with the boy?

"What are you doing here?" Kit snapped, as Damien merely gaped at him idiotically, as though in shock at being discovered.

Trying not to betray his fear- how long had Potter been watching him?-, Harry struggled for his last vestiges of acting skills to potray Kit once more, "You look ridiculous by the way. Is that- were you actually crying?"

"They were tears of laughter," Damien snapped back, though his voice seemed oddly detached. Broken? "You looked ridiculous sleeping on the floor."

"I'd be glad to trade insults with you all day Potter," Harry said sarcastically as he made to walk past the younger wizard, "but really, I need to get going. See you in the Great Hall."

He was about to turn round the corner when suddenly Damien's arms shot out, as though heroically, his determined face inches from his own, barring Harry's way forwards. "I'm afraid I can't let you pass," he said.

Harry didn't know what to make of the boy. Already he was growing worried; was his father attacking Hogwarts yet? He needed to get out, fast, but Damien Annoying Potter somehow always manged to get in the way.

He pretended to frown, as though seriously thinking it over, before turning round and walking through another corner round the bookshelf. "Then I just might have to find another way," he said, his strides quick. He reached the door in triumph, just before Damien's hand shot out, catching his wrist.

"In the name of Merlin, just what do you think you're trying to do!" Harry snapped in exasperation, his unease, fatigue and frustration boiling over.

Damien did not flinch. "Just who are you really, Kit Mason?" he asked softly.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, before Harry pulled his hand out of Damien's grip harshly, at the same time Damien pulled him round again, equally forcefully, and practically shoved something in his face...

"Remember this?" Damien said lightly, holding up the Layhoo Jisteen for Harry to see.

Harry gazed at it blankly. "Really nice necklace, Potter," he said emotionlessly, but his heart was beating fast. It was the Layhoo Jisteen stone- the one that was supposed to be at Riddle Manor since he saw it there seven years ago- and it had his magic written all over it.

His scar was beginning to flare up again. Quickly, Harry turned away, but Damien started speaking again, "My brother gave it to me," he said, the younger wizard's words tumbling out in a rushed jumble, as though fearful Harry would never hear them once he left. "You must have heard of him, he's Harry Potter. And do you know, you are actually very similar to him- you have his same blue shield, green eyes-"

"Are you colour blind as well as deluded now, Potter?" Harry snapped, but he never moved away from where he stood, Damien's hand still curled on his shoulder, forcing him to study the Layhoo Jisteen almost cross- eyed. The more Damien spoke, he realized, the more his scar flared... which meant, in some twisted way, he was learning the truth that had plagued him for so long.

"No," said Damien simply, "I just remembered."

Beneath his grip, Damien felt Harry go still.

And the next moment, a powerful blast was sending him flying backwards, until he crashed violently into the bookshelf behind him.

The Layhoo Jisteen protected him a little from his physical impact with the bookshelf, but it did not protect him from Kit's blow, just like when Harry managed to knock him unconscious while he was wearing the stone before his brother surrenderred himself to Voldemort last year.

Damien felt as though his brain was practically flatlining. It confirmed it all didn't it? Only Harry could blast him or harm him in any way while he wore the Layhoo Jisteen, as Harry tied his own blood into the protective charms. Only Harry.

And only he knew the truth.

Staggering out painfully from beneath the bookshelf, Damien half- ran, half- limped after his brother... his wand left discarded among the rubble of books and broken pieces of wood.

Harry raced along the empty corridors, even as his scar continued to burn, although with significantly less ferocity than it had when he had been in the library. He didn't know why he had pushed away Damien roughly, when he was the one who wanted to learn the truth- a part was desperation, and most of all was fear, almost animalistic, wild- that his father, the only one whom he had trusted blindly, had based everything on lies.

He knew Voldemort lied, all the time even- but there had always been an unspoken line to it. Harry trusted his father in serious matters- he'd thought Voldemort had kept the story simple, leaving out all the details- yet nothing about what the Dark Lord said fit at all. And Bellatrix- Merlin, Damien had told him that Voldemort himself had killed Bella, when she failed to bring Harry back to him.

He didn't know the truth. Everyone had seemingly different versions of all of it, and he did not know which version to believe anymore.

He tore his way towards the Hospital Wing- he knew from the maps that it was the only room on the first floor with a window facing outside- the Quidditch Pitch, and a distance away- the Forbidden Forest, where his father ought to be, if Voldemort stuck to the plans.

Madam Pomfrey was not around, nor were any patients- presumably all of them were in the Great Hall. Not caring what damage he did, he blasted away the glass from the windows, cast a cushioning charm and jumped straight out.

To Damien, who was trying his best to keep up behind, Kit had just jumped out of the window and continued running as though it were nothing. Damien thought of using the Cushioning charm, but he couldn't find his wand. So he promptly jumped out of the window as well, fully aware of how stupid and Gryffindor-ish his actions were-, and praying his wandless transfiguration would miraculously work.

It did work, though not as successfully as he would have liked- as he crashed into a thin sheet of feathers in pillow cases on the ground floor.

xXx

Harry turned back as he heard an agonized cry behind him, indicating that somehow that idiotic Gryffindor was still following him. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he turned round and stopped short at the sight.

Damien was staggering after him, his leg an awkward angle, and his shirt stained red. The way he held himself, Harry guessed that he had a fractured knee cap and possibly a broken rib... if not worse.

"Just what did you do?!" Harry exclaimed, if anything, in extreme annoyance. "Don't tell me you jumped out of the window as well!"

Damien grinned in a very pleased way, as though he were proud of himself. "I did, but the- pillows- cushioned... my fall."

"Your breath is getting short, stop talking," Harry said with a cold tone. When Damien showed no sign of obliging, Harry hissed in frustration, "You have at least a fractured rib, Potter, so do yourself a favour and go back."

Damien frowned slightly, though it was clear it cost him an effort. His face was taut with pain, and he was getting increasingly pale. "I-It's not- my.. fault, you know..." he wheezed, "you... blasted- me."

"You have the stone-" Harry began, though with a sense of dread as a part of him knew where this was going.

"-which you... gave to me," Damien finished, actually smiling benignly. "Believe... me- now, haaah...?"

Then Damien started to cough, and much to Harry's horror, the youngest Potter started to cough out blood. Damien seemed to glance down at himself, as though suddenly aware of the extent of his injuries, and his eyes widened slightly.

As Harry took a step forwards, Damien sank with a groan onto the ground, at the same time a familiar voice hissed from beyond the trees-

"Hello again, Harry."

A/N: To make up for keeping you guys waiting so long, I've typed an extra long chapter for you, 6875 words without adding my author's notes! I completed this at one a.m.. Did anyone expect this development? :D hope you like this chapter... please review!

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