A.N. -Standard Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plotline.

Chapter 1

He didn't even notice where Ripper has hidden himself. He has spent the entire evening sitting up on the tree because Ripper has chased him up on it. He didn't expect his relatives to come to his aid, and true to form, they haven't. Rather, they were standing in the kitchen and looking out of the backdoor to the yard and were having a jolly old time as they observed the darling bulldog yapping up at the freak over tea and a plate of biscuits.

Harry gave a yelp as the dog came running out of the rosebushes of Aunt Petunia's. He tried to turn around and ran back to the tree, but the torn set of canvas shoes he was allowed to wear, gave out on him and he tripped. The vicious canine gleefully pounced on the fallen boy and sunk his teeth into his ankle. His scream alerted the residents of Number 4, Privet Drive, and they hurried to the door.

"What are doing to the poor dog, freak? Let go of him immediately!"

Harry would have rolled his eyes if he could. Really, did it look like Harry has shoved his foot into Ripper's mouth? It was the dog who should let go of Harry, not the other way around. But you make Uncle Vernon understand that, the fat oaf.

"If I found that you have poisoned my precious, little darling, boy, you will wish that you've never been born." The dulcet tone of Marge Dursley came right after her brothers, "Ripper! Come here, precious! Did the mean boy hurt you? You do look a bit peckish, come, I will pour you your favourite food." She crooned as she bent her immense girth with difficulty to gather the squirming dog in her arms.

Harry tried to get up on his feet but the pain in his ankle shot up through his leg and directly to his head. He winced and crumpled back down on the ground.

"Get in. Now!" Snarled Aunt Petunia, the only Dursley who remained at the door. Vernon and Marge went back to the living room to watch their favourite show. Dudley didn't even bother to get up from his seat.

Harry tried again and gingerly got up to his feet.

"Go to your cupboard. No supper for you tonight. And do not bleed on my floor!"

Harry bit his lips to stop himself from making any sound as he put on his tattered trainers back on his foot. The bite was smarting as well as bleeding in a steady trickle. He passed his aunt with his head lowered, not wanting to get further punished for some perceived misdeed. Carefully, putting as little weight on his hurt ankle as possible, Harry reached the cupboard under the stairs and crawled inside. Aunt Petunia has followed him and slammed the door to the cupboard shut. Harry could hear her bolting the door from the outside.

Brilliant, Harry bitterly thought to himself, I was bitten by the dog and now I am the one to spend the night without any food and the dog is getting rewarded…and the Dursleys think that they are normal.

Harry tried to ignore the pangs of hunger and turned in the small confines of the cupboard and faced the wall, he hadn't taken off his shoes. Anything to staunch the blood flow. Slowly he drifted off to sleep as he kept hearing the loud sounds of the television from Dursley's living room.

He never got to know the unbelievable thing that happened to him that night because he was tired and hungry and slept like a dead body. A soft blue glow appeared over his prone figure and pulsed at his ankle, right where Ripper had bitten him. The blood that was pooled inside of the tattered shoe and dried, became liquid once again and slowly started to sip back through the punctured skin. His magic was trying to heal him, pulling the magical blood inside of the body which was already available and within the connection of the small wizard's body, replenishing the lost life force without having to work at creating it anew, sealing and healing the holes afterwards.

While the magic only gathered the blood, leaving behind the accumulated dirt and grime within the shoe, it didn't purify the blood of the other content it already contained – a bulldog's saliva. The dog's DNA…or his essence, for the hidden community to which Harry belonged, sealed inside of the little wizard's body without his knowledge.

The troll swung its club aiming for Harry's head, but he also moved his left hand with which he had the wizard dangling, resulting in his swing and miss. It kept making weird faces and moving his head from side to side because Harry's wand was still stuck up its nostril and it didn't understand how to remove it with both of its hands occupied.

They had rushed into the girls' toilet at the Charms Corridor after they had locked the troll within. They thought that they had locked it away from Hermione, but to their utter horror, they realized a moment later that they had locked the troll within the toilet along with Hermione.

The said witch was still crouched down under the sinks, although she had stopped screaming, she was still out of it, just kept looking at the troll with wide, unblinking eyes. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream.

The troll again swung its arm, Harry was slammed into one of the broken stalls. The splintered wood of the stall grazed against his shoulder through his clothing and as the troll moved its arm, the serrated edge cut into his skin and left quite a deep gash behind, making Harry yell out in pain.

"Do something!" He shouted at Ronald Weasley. The redhead was still standing at the doorway with his wand hand hanging limply to his side, his other hand held a broken piece of pipes that he picked up to throw at the troll as Harry had instructed him to do to divert its attention from Hermione. But now, he had forgotten everything and stood there stunned, witnessing the destruction within with a horrified look on his face. Harry's yell seemed to jolt him out of his stupor.

"What?" Ron yelled back.

"I don't know! Cast a spell or something!" Harry yelled desperately, he would have tried to latch onto the troll's body but it kept moving its arms around, and thus, Harry along with them. He knew that he was a goner if nothing was to be done.

Ron mechanically lifted up his wand and shouted the first incantation that came into his mind, "WINGARDIAM LEVIOSA!"

Harry would swear later that he had heard Hermione mutter in her catatonic state – swish and flick.

The wonder of wonders, Ron's spell took hold. It wrenched the giant club from the troll's hand and it hung overhead. The troll was in the middle of another swing when it happened and it looked confusedly at its empty hand and let out a confused grunt.

Ron was so shocked by his spell's action that his wand hand once again went slack and the levitation charm stopped working. The club dropped down right on top of the troll's face as it had just turned its gaze upwards to look for its club. Its nose broke and a spurt of greenish troll blood rained everywhere. A few of the blood droplets landed on top of Harry, but he was in no place to be concerned about it as the troll dropped him on the ground…right on his head.

Dazed, Harry didn't realize that some of the troll blood had sipped into his open wound. His magic was, as usual, working hard to heal his body, just like it had been doing for the past decade. The wound had started to knit itself back, and soon, as Harry shook off the dizziness and slowly stood back up, the once deep gash was nothing more than a long, shallow cut.

By the time they were done with the interrogation by Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape, Harry's wound was nothing more than a hairline scratch thanks to his overworked magic that once again managed to put his body back together, again, sealing away a little essence of the troll within the body of the pre-pubescent wizard without his knowledge.

Harry was knocked off of his feet by Malfoy when the blond idiot, in his bid to run away from the hooded black thing that was drinking blood from the unicorn, shoved him hard and tore through the Forbidden Forest.

He couldn't help but yell at the blond's retreating back, "Malfoy, you idiot!" His head was splitting apart in a blinding headache.

The hooded figure by then had left the wounded unicorn behind and was slowly approaching the fallen wizard. Harry tried to get up from his prone position, but fear made his limbs not work properly. All he managed to do was scramble backwards, he was vaguely aware of the stinging sensation in his palms. He must have had his hands cut when he fell down on the ground. They were roaming in a forest after all.

The dark creature lunged forward in attack. Harry, instinctively put up his arms before him and had his eyes squeezed shut, braced himself for the impending hurt. But all he felt was that something or someone flew over his head. He slowly opened his eyes to find that a centaur was standing before him, his sudden appearance had halted the hooded creature.

"You are not welcome here. Begone!" The centaur threatened the creature, pointing his arrow at it. The thing screeched and ran away from that spot. But Harry was not paying any attention to them. The moment he saw the centaur stop that creature, he rushed forward to the unicorn and knelt down beside the poor creature. He had pressed his hands on the side of his body, trying to staunch the bleeding. But the unicorn was hurt very badly, his silver blood flowed nonstop.

"He is beyond your help now, Harry Potter." The centaur had slowly walked over to them.

Harry looked up to the centaur, enraged, tears were brimming in his eyes, "No! He is still breathing. Do something. Help him!" He pleaded.

The centaur lowered his head sorrowfully, "You have a good heart, young wizard. But you must understand that his time has come, his fate may have been cruel, but it was written in the stars." He looked upwards to the sky, "Mars is bright red this night, wizard, ensuring that blood will be spilt, just as we are seeing before us. And a red Mars always heralded red dawn – proclaiming lost lives in the darkness of the night."

Harry wasn't listening to anything the centaur was blabbering, he stifled his sobs as he tried to put more pressure on the wound of the unicorn with his right hand, his left found its way to his snout and rubbed it, conveying his own will to the dying animal to fight for his life. The unicorn opened his coal-black eyes and stared up at the young wizard, a tear escaped his eye as he nuzzled into Harry's touch.

A commotion from behind them alerted the centaur as he readied his bow to the source. He lowered it when he saw Hagrid running into the clearing, followed by his boarhound and three other students.

"Harry! There yeh are…" He skidded to a stop as he took in the scene before him, "Firenze." The gentle giant acknowledged the centaur with a bow.

"Ah, Hagrid. I was wondering when you will show up."

"What happened here?" Hagrid gripped his crossbow tightly.

"Evil lurks within the darkness of this forest. An evil that has found its way back here. The forest is not a safe place for children, Hagrid. You should take them back to the castle."

"We were supposed ter find the wounded unicorn…" Hagrid frowned as he looked at the fallen creature of light and the boy who was kneeling before the beast.

"Alas, you are late in your search, for the noble beast is already at the doors of death." Firenze lowered his head to show respect for the animal, "Heed to my warning, Hagrid, get that young wizard safely back into the castle. The stars have rewritten themselves, for only nature can alter fate's plans."

"What was all that supposed ter mean?"

"I have told you all I can. Now, please, leave this place. I need to prepare for the last rites of our fallen friend."

Hermione had made her way to Harry while Hagrid was talking with the centaur. She laid a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry had jerked to her touch but didn't turn around, he kept his eyes on the unicorn.

"Come on, Harry, you can't do anything more for him. Get up."

Harry didn't budge from his position, he kept rubbing his left hand on the head of the unicorn while keeping his right hand on the bleeding wound. The unicorn nuzzled against his touch, he slowly lifted his head with a great effort and gently nudged Harry. The wizard looked into his eye as the unicorn nudged him again. This time, Harry didn't oppose the tugging of Hermione and got back to his feet.

"I could not save him, Hermione…I was too late…" the boy who was very much averse to human contact, latched onto the witch and started to sob on her shoulders.

Hermione was startled when Harry hugged her tight. She had never known her friend to initiate hugs on his own, and when he started to cry on her shoulder, all she could do was rub his back, "I know, Harry, I know…"

Hagrid came to stand beside them, "Come on, children, it's best ter be on our way."

Hermione manoeuvred herself so that she didn't lose her hold onto Harry and gently started to pull him with her. Harry walked along in a daze, eyes glued to the ground. Neville and Draco were standing a little behind them all and were watching everything with disbelieving eyes. They fell in line behind the trio, trailed by Fang.

A short while later, Draco couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out, "You are crying for that unicorn, Potter?"

Neville and Hermione in unison, snapped at the blond Slytherin, "Shut up, Malfoy!"

Draco scowled and muttered, "Whatever…" He sped up a little to walk ahead of the Gryffindors.

None of them was in a state of mind to observe as Harry's torn hand once again started to be healed by his magic, silvery blood of the unicorn and his tears that came into contact with the wizard's open wounds, closed with them, sealing an essence of the noble beast within the wizard.

[TUP]

Firenze looked on as the humans made their way out of the forest. He turned back to the fallen unicorn with saddened eyes and lowered himself beside him.

"It is time for you to leave behind this mortal plane, my friend. Great Mother Astraea will provide a grazing ground for you to roam about in the vast sky."

The unicorn looked up to the centaur and neighed weakly at him, Firenze looked back down at him in surprise, "Truly? Are you sure that is what you want?"

The unicorn neighed again, much weaker this time. Firenze bowed his head.

"I will abide by your wishes."

Another two individuals had appeared beside the two and stood a little apart, watching on with inscrutable visages. Firenze turned his head and beckoned them closer, "Come, Bane, Magorian. We have work to do."

Magorian frowned as he stepped forward, "Firenze, are you sure that the wizard will honour the gift our fallen friend has bestowed unto him?"

Firenze nodded, "Yes, I am sure. I have watched him fighting to preserve life. He didn't abandon his quest even when his companion left him behind in the face of danger. He tried to save our friend here at all cost, only to be stopped by his limitation in knowledge. I am quite sure that the gift will be appreciated. Now, come, lend me a hand." He got up to his feet and with the help of the two centaurs, they carried the body of the slain unicorn with them deep into the forest.

Harry slowly sunk down on his knees as Quirrell…or his body which housed Voldemort's shade, crumbled into ash. He looked down at his hands which had blistered from when he had grabbed onto the Dark Lord. The pain in his scar was still making it hard for him to see properly. Blindly, he reached out to search the floor beside him, trying to find the Philosopher's Stone that fell out of his pocket in the struggle. Finding it, he brought it close to his squinting eyes, the blood-red gemlike stone glimmered in the torchlight.

Harry didn't notice the black vapour that rose out of the crumbled remains of Quirrell. It slowly coalesced and formed into an unearthly face with red, glinting eyes. With a scream, the spectre lunged towards Harry and flew through his body, leeching out a small amount of magic from the child wizard's magical core to sustain itself as it fled from the castle.

Harry, already on the verge of collapsing, fell on his face. He was vaguely aware of someone calling out his name. He made an attempt to again grab for the Philosopher's Stone which escaped his grasp, but it was all he could do before submitting to unconsciousness.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore hurried towards the chamber with the Mirror of Erised. He had left behind Miss Granger who was trying to get Mr Weasley to wake up. Even in his anxiety, Albus noticed with a bit of amusement that the boy was snoring amongst the rubbles which were once the chess pieces created by Professor Minerva McGonagall. As he reached the chamber, he noticed the shade of Voldemort fleeing the scene, leaving a pile of ash instead of the body of Quirinus Quirrell and a very battered form of the first year Gryffindor – Harry Potter.

"Harry!" Dumbledore hurried towards his student, he waved his wand over his prone form and sighed in relief that the boy was unconscious because of magical exhaustion. He seemed to be no worse than having a few burn marks on his hands, which, even before Albus' eyes, were rapidly healing by whatever magic his exhausted core was able to produce. Poppy had told him about this ability of Harry's. The boy seemed to have been directing his magic, or the magic was working on his stead to heal his body from whatever wound or other ailments it could. Albus decided to not put Harry under a stasis charm and let his magic heal him as best as it could.

He bent down and plucked the Philosopher's Stone from the floor, smiling a little at the senseless boy's tenacity in overcoming any obstacles in his way when he was determined to right any wrong. It was not that far off when those idiotic 'Harry Potter Adventure Books' claimed that Albus intended for the boy to take the reign from him when he was ready. Albus does see his younger self in the raven-haired child. If only he could help him with the prophecy – Albus sighed. No, he mentally rebuked himself, He would make sure that the boy retain some of his childhood at the least before he was inevitably drawn into the madness that was Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He levitated the unconscious boy from the floor after storing the stone away in his pocket. He strode away from the Mirror room, he needed to collect two more first years on his way back. Hopefully, Miss Granger had managed to wake Mr Weasley up by then, he mused. He also needed to protect the three young lion cubs from the wrath of the lioness – Minerva.

In his musings, Albus Dumbledore failed to notice a few small, grain-like shards of the Philosopher's Stone which had broken off from the stone when it hit the floor and embedded themselves into Harry's wounded hands. The trickle of magic from his recuperating core was slowly closing the wounds and concealing the shards within the boy's body.

Harry was standing at the Greenhouse Three with Ron and Hermione on each side, along with the assorted second-year students from Houses Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The past few days had been hectic for the young wizard. Since the day Dobby, the house-elf had come to his bedroom at Privet Drive and cast the Hover Charm, very little seemed to go right for Harry. Getting locked up in his room by Uncle Vernon, not even being able to let Hedwig out for her flights and then being rescued by Ron, Fred and George in their father's enchanted Ford Anglia. Spending a couple of weeks at the Burrow was by far the most memorable experience in Harry's life. Flying with the Weasley brothers, eating the scrumptious food made by Mrs Weasley, even tossing the garden gnomes had been fun for him. He could have done without little Ginny being awkward every time he entered the same room she was in, but he blamed it on the useless fame of being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' that had been haunting him since his introduction to the magical world.

Harry had hoped that getting the letter from Improper Use of Underage Magic would be the last of his summer worries, but no. He and Ron were blocked from accessing Platform Nine and Three Quarters for some unknown reason, and they were forced to take Mr Weasley's enchanted car and fly along over the Hogwarts Express. The car had crashed into the Whomping Willow in the end and they were saved by the skins of their teeth from the wrath of the residential dungeon bat, Severus Snape. Harry really didn't understand what the man's problem was, but he was sure grateful for the Headmaster's intervention. Although they came out of that encounter with a boatload of punishment and point loss, they were hailed as some sort of heroes by the twins and quite a few other Gryffindors. Hermione was in a real snit about their foolhardiness and had taken them to the task, but Harry had managed to calm the irate witch down somewhat.

"Good morning, students!" Chirped Professor Sprout as she entered the greenhouse. She had shed off her irritation from earlier when they saw her being harassed by that fop, Lockhart as she was tending to the damaged Whomping Willow. Harry could see that Neville was immediately perked up. He smiled at his timid friend, Neville was a dab hand at Herbology and almost worship the grounds Professor Sprout walked on. Harry also like the Hufflepuff head himself. She always had a smile on her face as she taught her lessons and never discouraged anyone who were eager to ask questions unlike some other he could name. *Cough* Snape *Cough*.

"We will be learning about an amazing plant, Mandrakes! Now, who can tell me about this plant?" Professor Sprout asked the class. As usual, Hermione's hand shot upwards before anybody else's. She ranted off every nuance she had managed to read about the plant, earning five points for Gryffindor from a beaming Professor Sprout. She then directed them to their workstations. They were to learn and take care of the plants for the year, as it would be their primary project for the academic year.

As instructed, Harry checked if his earmuffs were secured before he grabbed the plant and yanked it off of its pot. The root, which very disturbingly looked like a newborn baby, started squirming and let out a screeching wail. Poor Neville, who in his excitement had forgotten to check on his earmuffs, was fainted right away from the sound. Professor Sprout rushed to him and started to bring him back to the land of the wake. Harry put the screaming plant into a new larger pot and started to fill it with the prepared soil. He looked around as he worked to see how the others were doing. Ron had a horrified look on his face as he tried to keep his own plant in the pot; Hermione, her face scrunched in determined concentration, was following the professor's instruction that she had written down. Harry was reminded of the gossip he had heard from Lavender and Parvati about Malfoy as he watched McMillian and Finch-Fletchly messing about with their plants. The prat was apparently got bitten by a plant because he kept tickling the root instead of repotting it and had his hand swelled from the bite.

Once he was done with repotting his own sidling, Harry brushed his gloved hand on the still quivering leaves of the plant. He had developed a liking for gardening when he was forced to work by Aunt Petunia. Granted, he was nowhere near as bad as Neville, but he did enjoy spending his time among the greenery. Harry looked closely at the plant and found that its leaves were almost the same as the apple tree from the neighbour's yard from back at Privet Drive. The house was locked and bereft of any resident because rumour had it that the owner had landed themselves on the wrong side of the law and found their way to the gaol. But that turned out to be a blessing for young Harry as he used to sneak about in the yard and plucked an apple or two from the tree. And when there was no fruit, he used to chew on the leaves to sate his hunger. In turn, he took care of the tree that gave him the fruits and leaves to live by.

Harry didn't know what came over him as he discreetly brought out his clipper and cut off a few leaves. He popped one of them in his mouth and chewed. The taste was a bit bittersweet, with a hint of tan, but overall, not too bad. He stored the rest of the leaves in his pocket. Given the fact that he was not being starved now at Hogwarts, still, he liked the taste of the leaves and held a fond memory of the apple tree from his childhood.

Harry grabbed a handful of Ron's robe and pulled him forward as he dodged an acromantula and ran to find the exit from Aragog's lair. Ron was almost useless in his catatonic state. His fear of spiders had leapt beyond any sense of reasoning since their venture into the Forbidden Forest. Really, who could blame a boy who was known for his arachnophobia and then had to traipse into the lair of the giant spiders to the size of cars.

"Rictusempra!" Harry flung the jinx over his shoulder without looking and dragged Ron along with him. Spiders of all sizes kept chasing after them. He fired a few more knockback jinxes over his shoulder and burst out of the lair, with a score of acromantulae still hot on their hills. Ron was more than useless at that point, even if he wasn't petrified with fear, his broken wand would have made any curse or jinx he shot backfire on himself, just as he had done with Malfoy at the Quidditch pitch.

Suddenly, Harry was knocked off his feet, an acromantula had tried to leap onto him but it had miscalculated its jump and landed nearby, and thus bodily slammed into the running wizard, sending him hurtling in the air to some dense foliage.

Crashing through brambles and small branches, Harry laid there on the ground in a daze, the jarring sensation of being knocked by a being of the size of a taxi and being slammed into a tree before falling through boughs and bushes would make anybody a little disoriented, and Harry had been scared out of his mind by giant spiders. Wait a minute, why was he making an argument for his state? Within his mind? With his own mind?

The dew that was collected on the leaves of the dark, damp forest dripped down on his face, some of it trickled into his mouth and soothed his parched throat. Shaking his dizziness off, Harry tried to sit up. There was a commotion within the bush in front of him, he scrambled for his fallen wand but before he can reach it, an acromantula the size of a dog came scuttling out of it and bit him on his leg. Harry screamed in pain and turned his wand to the creature to blast it into smithereens. But in his dazed state, all he managed to do was send a stinging hex at its underbelly. The spider squeed and fled into the bush once again.

Gingerly putting weight on his bitten leg, Harry slowly stood up, he was not fit to move, let alone run. From head to toe, his body was screaming in pain. On top of that, the acromantula venom in his leg made his movements quite sluggish. Another sound of snapping branches and groaning trees reached his ears, something was approaching him in speed. Harry stiffened up and tightened his grip on his wand. What type of cuddly and misunderstood monster of Hagrid's is chasing us now? – thought Harry.

He was oh so very happy to see Mr Weasley's Ford Anglia again. The car had turned wild in its stay in the forest. But it came in real handy as it crushed some of the spiders under its tyres and slammed the bigger ones away. Its passenger door flung open as if it was indicating Harry to get inside. As fast as he could, Harry scrambled into the car and the door slammed behind him before once again taking off. Now he had to find Ron and Fang and get back to the Castle. Merlin knows that he needed to go see Madame Pomfrey, his leg was killing him.

Underneath Harry's torn jeans, the wound was slowly closing up, sucking in the venom and pus as it was doing so. Once again his magic was working overtime to set him to the right and encasing the essence of another beast within his body, one more time.

Harry lay gasping on the floor, the basilisk was writhing in death throes from the goblin made sword that was embedded into its brain. He wanted to check on Ginny but he couldn't stand on his feet and crashed down on the ground. He could feel that the strength was leaving his body, the basilisk venom was burning through his veins. He crawled towards the unconscious girl with the fang still clutched in his hand.

Tom was watching the encounter gleefully. He guffawed as Harry started to crawl, "So this is the end of the famous Boy-Who-Lived, brought down by the might of the heir of Salazar Slytherin. What do you say to that, Harry?"

Harry could feel the burn of the basilisk venom had reached into his head by then. He was losing consciousness rapidly; his thoughts also were becoming foggier with each passing second. All he wanted to do now was to ensure that Ginny is safe, somehow wipe the smile off of Tom's face and then succumb into the approaching darkness happily knowing that he had taken care of the monster that dared to attack Hermione.

He reached out for Ginny's hand but instead he grabbed Riddle's diary. It fell open before his drooping eyes. Tom did say Ginny poured her life into it for him to live, didn't he? What would happen if Harry pour something else on it? With that weird thought in his addled mind, Harry raised his hand with the fang and brought it down on the diary.

"What are you doing? No!" Tom screamed in pain.

Black ink spurted from its pages. Once again, Harry brought the fang down onto it and stabbed, more ink came out of it like blood. Tom was yelling in agony. Harry reached out and closed the diary, and stabbed the thing through its cover for the third time. Tom screamed like a dying man and fell onto his knees, but he didn't reach the ground, before that, his body exploded into tiny particles of light. The fang fell from his numb fingers with a clatter.

Harry thought that he was hallucinating in his last breaths because he was sure that he was hearing Tom's screams within his head. He tried to shake his head to get rid of the annoying sound. He wanted peace. He felt something liquid was running down his face but he couldn't wipe it off. A fluttering sound of wings made him look upwards. Fawkes had landed down nearby and was looking into his eyes.

"You were brilliant, Fawkes…but I was not fast enough…take Ginny and go…" He could feel the small girl steering not too far from him. Maybe she would get out of here and meet with Ron. They would be able to retrieve his body from the Chamber…Dumbledore would help them. And Hermione…he wanted to see Hermione for one last time.

Through his half-closed eyes, Harry could see Fawkes had lowered his head at the wound on his forearm where the basilisk had bitten him. Something glinting caught his attention. Is he crying? – Harry wondered, Silly bird. He should stop wasting his tears and time and get Ginny some help. I am dead anyway. I wonder what mum and dad will say to me when I see them in the afterlife. Will they yell at me for dying so young?

He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. If this is dying then I don't think it is very bad. – He thought. The burning sensation from the basilisk venom had subsided. His headache from his scar is almost gone. The pain from all the bumps and bruises was now a more manageable dull throb. Death is quite relaxing, Harry smiled to himself.

"Harry?! Oh no! Please, don't be dead! Please, don't be dead!"

Harry frowned as his musings were cut short by that shout. Who is yelling? He thought quite irritated that his thinking was disturbed, Was it, mum? That definitely sounded like a female voice. But why is she sounding like a little girl? She is a grown woman! He slowly opened one eye and peered up, all he could see through his broken and grime-covered glasses were long, flowing red hair. Grinning, he sat up.

"Hello, Mu…Ginny!? My friend, Ginny! How are you doing?"

That was close. I almost called her mum. Damnit, I am not dead. Wonder what happened?

Ginny was trembling in fear, she looked up at Harry with tearful eyes, "Harry, it was me! I was the one who let loose that giant snake into the school. It was me who attacked Hermione! Please, forgive me, Harry, Tom made me do it!" She hid her face in her hands.

Harry didn't know what to do. Back at the Dursley's, crying was never an option, so he had stopped crying since he understood that. He only let his composure go when he failed to save the unicorn from bloody Voldemort. He couldn't help it, but he did feel for every innocent being. Also, at the present, he was struck dumb in front of a crying girl. The only experience with girls that he had, was with Hermione. With her, he could make her smile with some silly joke he had heard back at his muggle school or with funny anecdotes he had read in one of the books. With their mutual friendship, Harry didn't have to try very hard to make Hermione smile.

But Ginny was a different story. This was the girl who squeaked every time they were in the same room and ran away. He could count on his single hand the times he had seen her around Hogwarts. Granted, now he understood that was in most part because of Tom and his fudging diary, but still. And then there was the thing that irritated him the most. She was the one because of whom Hermione was now at the Hospital Wing, lay petrified.

He awkwardly reached out and patted her on the head like he had done to Mrs Figg's cats when one of them appeared to be quite clever.

"Er…it is alright, Ginny."

The crying girl lunged herself towards Harry and latched onto his robe, bawling her eyes out.

Does she realize that she is rubbing her face on a robe that is coated with sewer gunk? Harry mused to himself. He looked down at his right forearm where the basilisk had bitten him. The wound was now closed, although, there was a large scar in its place. Harry knew that he heals fast. After coming to Hogwarts, he had found from Madame Pomfrey that his innate magic had always worked hard to make his body heal, leaving none of the scars behind. He wondered if it was so because of his living condition with the Dursleys. But last year, Professor Dumbledore told him that his mother had left a mark on him when she died protecting him. It could be that what had always healed him.

But basilisk venom was the most potent of venoms, he didn't think his magic was able to heal from that. He heard a chirping sound and looked around. Fawkes was sitting a little apart from them and was looking at them with, what Harry suspected as amusement. He narrowed his eyes at the smug look on the red-feathered being. Dumbledore's voice from when he had first met him echoed in his mind – Amazing creatures, these phoenixes. They can carry a tremendous load with them and their tears have healing effects. Of course, he thought he saw the bird crying, but in his venom-induced mind, he forgot about it.

He was brought back to the present by a snorting sound from the crying girl in his arms. Wait a minute, is she adding snot on top of all the muck? That is enough! – He sprang up to his feet.

"Come on, Ginny, we need to get out of here and meet with Ron."

"But…but the huge snake…" She stammered.

"You mean the basilisk? Don't worry, I took care of it." He pointed towards the large serpent lay dead at the foot of Slytherin's statue. Ginny squeaked seeing the snake and scooted further to put more distance between them.

Ah, there is the squeaking girl that I know. – He thought grinning. A glint caught his eye from where the basilisk's head was, it was the sword of Gryffindor. I should probably take that back with us. He started to walk towards the snake.

"W-where are you going?"

"I am going to get my sword back. Er, it was actually not my sword, but Gryffindor's sword. But I am a Gryffindor and I pulled it out of the Sorting Hat. Which reminds me, I need to get the hat back too…so, as I was saying, it was not my sword but at the same time, my sword. Do you understand?" He looked back to find Ginny shaking her head no. Great, where is Hermione when I need her, only she can keep up with my train of thought. - He grumbled inwardly. "Come on, we really should get out of here."

Harry was back at Number Four, Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon was still not over of his escape during the previous summer, or his toppling off the window when he escaped with the Weasley brothers. He kept gnashing his teeth whenever he laid his eyes on Harry, so he had made himself scarce whenever his whale of an uncle was around the house.

That night, the weather was stormy. Thunder and lightning kept him awake till late at night, he kept tossing and turning on the rickety old bed to try and fall asleep. Finally, when he was able to catch a wink of sleep, he was plagued by nightmares. He saw that he was back at the Chamber of Secrets, once again fighting for his life with the huge basilisk. Only this time, it was not Ginny Weasley who was down there lying unconscious, but Hermione Granger. Harry made a mistake and instead of stabbing the snake, his sword fell from his hand. The basilisk knocked him aside and lunged for Hermione, intended to eat her whole.

Harry woke up with a scream. His body felt really cold, he thought to wipe his eyes but his hands were not there. Alarmed, he tried to sit up, only to fail. He tried to look around in the darkness of his room, but then, right at that moment, lightning flashed outside and made his eyes burn, what is going on? – He thought frantically. A little while later, as his eyes regained their abilities, he once again tried to look around. He could feel the vibrations from the snoring of the Dursleys, his tongue could taste the musty scent of rain-soaked ground.

Wait a freaking moment, my tongue can taste the scent? What in the ever-loving fudge does that mean? Where are my arms and legs? Why do I have scales instead of skin? AM I A FLUFFING SNAKE?