Revolution: Unweaving Fate

by razorpawofdestruction96

When Harry Potter sacrificed himself for his allies in another war. The Boy Who Lived is given another chance at life, yet with a twist; this time having been dismissed by his family in favor of his young brother Jacen Potter, he was sorted into Slytherin. Having been ignored his entire life, he bitterly realizes he was always fated to fight alone. Will he survive? PowerfulHarry!

I want to first thank WokFriedIce for the inspiration of writting Harry a future not related to the DMLE but instead as a Combat Healer and DoM Unspeakable. Also to HPfanfictioner66 and Mori99 for their stories writting an OP Harry paired with Fleur. The credit goes to these authors, please read on their stories, they are awesome, this HP story i write it as an inspiration after seeing the movies and going through the audiobooks :D, and while i haven't read them in a long time, i wanted to write a Slytherin Harry Story who finds himself in a situation just as Sirius but applied to the BWL context.

I hope you enjoy this story as i did writting it. I don't own HP, it is owned by J.K. Rowling.

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Green eyes looked around as the sounds of tent flapping open echoed through the desert. Some were using their wands to unfurl the tent and implant the stakes. Others unshrunk crates of materials or levitated the cases of things that could be shrunk. He looked at the terrain around them, eyes narrowed.

"What is wrong?" He was taken out of his musings to hear a voice ask him, as he turned from staring at the ground. For quite some days he has been feeling weird. The Boy Who Lived, that was a tale that seemed still so near yet so far away already, he shrugged. "The ground looks kind of weird." Harry Potter said, pointing to it.

Jack, the man he was talking to looked where he pointed. "Oh, that's a crater from an explosion." With those words he stared with amusement. Lord Voldemort's demise proved that the Isles were so isolated from the magical community around the world. He dare say that he was glad that Voldemort was over since it allowed him to truly pursue what he felt was his life-goal, after a life-time of regrets, now he could look up to death and to those he failed and smile, smile because he was now making a true difference.

"Really?"

"Yup. Bombs and missiles make those kinds of craters. Some are caused by explosions at ground level or below it. Others are combinations of impact ones like from missiles hitting the ground."

He knew what those weapons were, after all he was a muggle-raised Half-Blood Wizard. "Like from Muggle Weapons?"

"Yeah." Continued Jack. "I did a little joint adventure with parts of our No-Maj military and learned a bit there."

He rose an eyebrow. "Why would there be those kinds of craters here in the middle of Separatist Territory?" He asked as he continued to glance at the infinite desert and battlefields. The Middle Eastern wars of the NATO countries now had a magical presence, which forced the ICW to look behind the times of Dark Lords and now force the Magical Communities to cooperate in the Magical NATO wars at gunpoint. And England wasn't the exception, not even sparing the fact that his generation was still healing from Voldemort. Jack frowned. "Good Question." He and Harry walked to the closest one and he waved his wand over it.

"It's mostly magic actually. There's a lot of magical residue."

"Bombardment and explosive curses aren't usually this uniform." Harry murmured as he bent low, looking at the crater closely with analysis.

"Depends on the caster. How much control they have over their own magic and the spell itself. I knew a guy that could make a perfect circle with his bombardment spells."

He chuckled. "That makes sense." He spoke. "So, if a person wants to just cause damage or isn't being careful, it looks more ragged and destructive."

"Yeah. The more power you pump into a spell like that, the less refined it is." Jack looked around some more. "There was probably a fight or a battle here before. Maybe fighting between No-Maj armies."

A good conclusion to an analysis. "People just fight no matter what, don't they." Harry called softly, he missed his home and yet somehow, he felt estranged. Jack gave him instead a sad smile instead.

It was of no less comfort. "Yeah. They just use different means to fight with."

And as time went on, he felt even more restless. Setting up the new forward operating base took time, and he thought it was the idea of being in enemy territory before the defenses were set up was the cause for his disquiet. He chose to instead use the protection-oriented spell-work to bring him a sense of reprieve and peace. Nowadays he had less sleep and more nightmares, these days even as a healer he felt himself being visited at times by the ghosts of the past. He has tried to live up to the expectations they would have. He touched his necklace where a hidden locket-like jewelry laid in the dead center, deep inside it, sealed and able to be used was the resurrection stone. On his wand holster was the ever powerful Elder Wand and finally in his bag was the Invisibility Cloak. He who owns the Three Hollows in kind, is the Master of Death and Lord of House Peverell. Funny it is that he is the richest Lord of Magical Britain, and yet all that money he chose to invest it in his Godson Teddy Lupin. The boy was so bright, the light of his life after being cast in darkness of Post-War. It was in fact Teddy the factor that made him follow his career as a Healer and eventually a Hit Healer Magician. First for the Ministry, doing many shifts in Saint Mungo's and eventually now, an ICW Healer. In such a short time, he was already a candidate for First Order of Merlin.

He wandered about, checking the boundaries of the camp.

The spells they cast and the wads they made were strong, but Harry still felt vulnerable for some reason. Almost exposed. He looked past the outer defenses, pensive. After a moment, he went back to the UK Unit Area and knocked on the captain's tent.

"Come in,"

Harry ducked through the flap. "Something's weird." He said without preamble. Dawlish and Vance looked at him. "What do you mean?" Vance asked.

"I don't know what, but I'm getting a weird feeling being here. Almost like we're being watched."

He felt this way whenever Voldemort invaded his mind and of course, during the days of the Second Wizarding War, if it could be called a war anyway. War, war is the one he is now taking part at. This is war.

"They checked the area for scrying spells." Dawlish said in a calm tone.

Harry blinked but was not about to question Dawlish's new attitude towards him. "That's good, but something feels off. Like, I don't know how to describe it really." He confessed feeling lightly alarmed.

"I feel something too." Vance agreed with Harry. "After all these weeks, the last one to get here we were barely opposed."

It spoke miles of plotting. Something was being done.

"It was much smoother." Dawlish admitted scratching his leg. "We know their forces are much smaller now and they're on the back foot. That said though…"

"Let's go to Command." Vance ended. "And see what they think."

And to his surprise they weren't the only ones. The unit commanders had gone to the tent and even the General was looking at the map. "Healer Potter." Captain Philippe greeted Harry.

"Hello Sir." The Boy Who Lived replied back. "What's going on?"

"We are waiting for the scouts to return. Something seems, a bit strange. So, we are all here to prepare for the worst."

Harry grimly nodded. "I thought so too." He murmured.

It didn't took long for the tent to flap opened and The Scout Team walked in. Blaise Zabini nodded to his captains and to him before standing at attention. "We got visual range of the Separatist Capital." The lead scout gave the report. "There are barely any defenses that we could find aside from shielding. The ground leading up to the capital is strange, more of the craters."

Harry frowned. 'Too easy.' He thought pensieve.

"We did not find too many on approach." A Wizard with a Japan Patch said. "This was clear ground."

"Right." A scout answered "But on either side of the camp are the craters and more as we get closer. That's not all." He tapped his temple with his wand and gathered some memory material, dropping it on the General's pensieve and soon an image swam into focus over the liquid within. The General tapped the Pensieve with his wand and murmured. A hanging frame filled with shimmering fluid shuddered and the image was soon shown in the frame for all to see. "What is that?" Mayall asked.

The capital city was far in the distance from the viewer, the lead scout in this case. Over the highest tower hung a tiny speck but it shone brightly. Throughout the memory, the small light speck seemed to change in intensity, growing slowly brighter. "No idea." The scout admitted his ignorance. "It's magical though. We can feel it from as far as we are."

What wouldn't Harry give to have been more entitled to his education in Hogwarts to be able to be more perceptive. So many times, did he wondered on his formative years and constantly facepalmed his own self for his stupidity and allowing such time to be spent on a petty war that could've been easily solved. 'If I faced Voldemort now on his height during my formative years, I would've dissected him far sooner and defeated him far faster.' He thought with regret as he the tent flapped open, and Harry turned sharply. "ENEMY CONTACT!"

"Where!?" The general asked.

"Behind us! They somehow moved a substantial force in, and they have reinforced defenses."

'A trap. A well-crafted trap.' Harry took a moment to compliment his enemy for the boldness of attacking ICW. "Are they advancing?"

"No, they are engaged with our rear guards, but they are pressing in."

"Why are they not pushing towards us?" A wizard asked.

"It's a bombing range!" Jack cried out. "They herded us into their range and are going to hit us with whatever they have that made all those craters around us!"

"The forces are there to keep us here!" Vance gasped.

The lead scout pulled out a small mirror out of his pocket. He listened to it and his face paled. "I left an observer to watch, and they said the light has grown in size."

"Getting closer." Blaise Zabini said with drawing recognition.

Pandemonium and cries of anger with fear filled the command tent as people realized what was happening. The German and Western Hemisphere units will engage the enemy at the rear and try to break the lines. Where they are must be outside of the range of the incoming spell. As orders were given by the General Harry cried out as everyone dispersed and organized. "Conjuration and Transfiguration specialists!" Harry Shouted.

"Start making walls, as many as you can. Make thin ones and reinforce with a shield charm and make another. If the spell coming is a bombardment, every wall it breaks will leech more energy instead of one super thick one. The more layers, the better!"

They scrambled and began doing so. The earth trembled as they created the new defenses right outside the tent. He turned to Blaise, his only classmate he has bonded in the last four years of his life. "Do you have your staff?" He asked to the former Slytherin who flourished it. "Of course."

"Here, stand here." Harry moved Blaise to the middle of the medical tent. "You're one of the best with Stability spells and shielding. See if you can override the anti-apparition spell too."

Blaise gave a nod. "It'll be tough Harry. We do not know where the source is." Blaise stabbed his staff into the ground and Megan to pour his magic into it. As a dome of energy grew from it, surrounding them all. The ground pulsed and he concentrated, his face contorting from effort.

"You can do it Blaise, if you can crack it, we can start apparating people away if we need to. At the least, you can override it with your magic and protect us better."

Blaise gritted his teeth. "Too bad." He almost snorted. "It took an emergency for you to lavish me with praise." He said through gritted teeth. Yet he froze in realization once more. "Wait."

Harry smiled, this time it was an easy smile as he lightly laughed placing a hand on his chest in mock hurt. "I always compliment you. You're a great friend and I was lucky to have you. Later, go to my trunk, there's a false bottom. You know the password. Make sure people get them, yeah?" He thought out loud and turned his gaze away, turning around and marching away.

"POTTER! What are you doing-."

He smiled bitterly. "Tell the Weasleys that I said you're a good man, they've always been my family. That's all they care about." He choked back a few sobs. 'Ginny.' He thought of the Girl that he walked away from forever, all for the sake of the Horcrux hunt. His greatest regret was not snatching her then and there, those days with Hermione and Ron were dark…the darkest of his life. Would it have been different with her by his side? 'Would you have loved me if I didn't ran away.' He thought realizing, he truly never got that much strength after leaving her and of course, his life didn't get that far.

'I'm truly tired.' He thought with an embittered smile, he snorted if anyone would miss him at all. He could feel it, the resurrection stone pulsing, as if the call from those beyond the grave screaming at him. Shrieking for him to stop, that he had a chance still that he could change.

'No.' He thought with a bitter smile, it was the call of Death, a long good friend of House Potter-Peverell. Opening its arms and waiting for him to embrace it. "Ginny likes you too." He let go. Now he understood Remus so much, and at times envied the man and also reminded him of his mistakes. The ghosts that haunt him every day, the weight that comes with being Lord Peverell. "She'll make you work for it…but it'll be worth it." He reminisced bitterly. He took out something from the depths of his coat pocket, his secondary wand; a piece of art and in Ollivander's own words 'His Masterpiece'.

Blaise tried to let go of the staff, but it was drawing too much of his strength and magic. "You bastard! Don't do this! Don't do whatever the fuck you're about to do!" Blaise called him out, but he gave a sad tired smile.

"When you get back home, give this to my Godson Teddy. I…I tried to be as much as Sirius as I could be for him. Inside this wand is his legacy, including a special spell in it. He must grip it on hand to activate the mechanism. He…He's still too young, I…I hope I won't impose. But as a friend, please take care of my Godson in my absence. He…he's the only one I had left."

Blaise bit his lip as he wanted to shout at him, hit him in the head. "Sorry. I have to. Thanks for everything Blaise. Tell the same to the others." He turned and ran out of the tent.

"SOMEBODY STOP HIM!" Blaise Shouted but his cry was swallowed by the tumult of noise and incantations. No, NO, NO-NO! Harry Potter didn't deserved such a death, he's the one that had to go back, out of many others he had a reason. On the lonely Black House in 12th Grimmauld Place waited an innocent child of Eight Years Old, a hyperactive tyke so happy and with illusions, so much love to give. The only ray of sun to the sad PTSD filled life of Harry Potter after that fiasco of Death Eater wars. Blaise cursed having chosen Slytherin, he cursed not having befriended him sooner, he cursed not being there when it mattered to him. So much drunken in their post-war happiness all those near to him were, that they never realized that once more, Selfless Harry Potter was going to die for them all and this time there won't be a heroic comeback. He was feeling it.

'Merlin no, don't take him. It's not his hour yet.' Blaise wanted to curse Potter, truly. The bastard had it all; Astoria's elder sister Daphne literally has made it official to all society she sought out 'HIS' hand after saving Astoria from her curse. Even Draco arranged an immediate Arranged Marriage Contract with House Potter. Ginny still loved Harry, the Weasleys still waited on Harry to visit the burrow and yet he believed Ginny had moved on when all she does is jump from unstable relationship to another unstable one. Never truly settling down. Susan Bones was openly in love with Harry during his Hit Healer Wizard days, the girl brought Harry to dinner most days whenever she could and even today the girl still seeks him out. And the Lovegood blondie of Ravenclaw, of course he remembered her whenever Harry had free days, the powerful female Seer was a naturally talented naturist and painter.

The fact so much people would be broken made him angrier. Blaise howled with rage and his magic howled with him.

---

Harry dodged past running magicals. Everyone was so fixated on their task, to try and survive the coming moments, none stopped him. The specialists he had organized were concentrated on right around the medical tent where people would be sheltering. It only took a moment for him to dodge around the perimeter and run past. He ran away from the center of the base towards the front, where the magical attack would be coming. Looking into the sky and squinting. Far off in the distance there did seem to be a point that glimmered, like a star.

'It's coming for us.' He thought as he shook his head, calming his pounding heart. He knew what he had to do, and he did not know if he would have time to do it. He opened a pouch on his waist and threw down flat stones with runes already inscribed on them. He put them in a distinct pattern and with the Elder Wand, carved lines through the ground to connect them. Finished, he stood in the center of the rough ritual circle that he created.

"Earth below, hear my plea, ground and center, provide stability." The ground underneath him shuddered.

"Air above, hear my words, protect and purify." The space around him warmed.

"Water withing, hear my call, fuel my magic, give and take."

He felt his blood pound in his veins. He flicked his silver scalpel out and cut into his left palm again. He let drops of blood fall to the ground. His wand tip touched the ground, but he stopped. Instead, he left the wound open and dragged his wound tip around the circle, touching each rune stone in turn. He felt his magic rise and he pointed his wand at the sky.

"Aegis."

Silver light shot out of his wand. It shone brightly and went up above the camp. Once it reached the apex, it began to expand, forming a large hazy shield.

"Aegis Totallum. Aegis Maxima. Aegis. Aegis Totallum. Aegis Maxima." With each incantation, more light flowed into the shield, and it took a more distinct shape. It grew thicker, brighter, stronger. Yet Harry could still see through the shield and that distant speck was no longer so small. It was getting bigger.

It was getting closer.

The first impact of the enemy spell had caused his shield to flex and shudder, he almost fell to his knees. He knew the Aegis spell would require a lot of ore energy than the shield charm. But it was supposed to be one of the strongest protective spells to ever exist. It normally needed so much energy, it needed a ritual spell to keep stability and stored magic of some kind to be the fuel. He had used repaired runes and an impromptu circle to supply ritual power. The incantation made things as stable as possible for the spell. He had used his blood to kickstart the circle and fuel the spell. A part of him knew that Aegis already did wonders with the first impact and those following. They would've gone through any shield charm easily, even an army of shield charms would've been insufficient.

'A simple aegis won't be enough.' Harry thought with effort.

He continued to incant, saying the words of the spells feverishly over and over, desperate to reinforce it as much as possible. To stop the missile as much as possible. To stop the missile as much as possible.

To save as much as possible.

Why do you fight so hard for those that do not appreciate you at all? Do they even know you at all?

He shook his head, trying to shake the distracting thoughts away. They came anyway. Slowly he felt a sudden estranged warm embrace him, a cold embrace that he felt too familiar, as the hum of almost a haunting melody took his ears, it was on him, and the clasp ensured its place.

The Cloak of Invisibility.

And the Triad of the Deadly Hollows once summoned once more by the Master of Death, Lord Harry Potter. Feeling the weight of his failures pressing down on him. Just as the weight of the enemy spell hit fully, the Aegis buckled, crumpling under the opposing force. He felt his magic screaming in protest, being forced aside by the mass of explosive magic full of malignant intentions. The aegis was weakening. Any moment now it would shatter completely, and everyone below would feel the force of the spell.

"I can do this." He whispered. "I can save and protect people! WITHOUT ANYONE ELSE BEING HURT!"

He bit into his wand and took his blade and cut deeply into his hand. Following the blade and making a cut on his very sternum, on his heart, the aftermath of chiming bells echoed in his ears as he threw the blood daubed blade into the circle point first. The blood flowed down his palm and from his chest to abdomen. Down to this fingertips and toes, dripping into the death. He spat his wand into his right hand and held it high. For the first time in history, Antioch's wand would be used to protect and not to damage.

"Aegis! Aegis Totallum! AEGIS MAXIMA!"

The circle flared. It absorbed his blood, his very heart and used it as energy. The silver light from his wand shone even more brightly. The shield far above shivered, and it withstood the pressing missile for a long moment before it began to buckle once more.

"NO! I can do this. I have to do this! TAKE IT ALL!" He shouted with his grim stubbornness, as the wound in his sternum penetrated bone and cartilage and finally it went straight to his heart, to his very core of life. He could feel it.

"AEGIS AETERNUM!"

Harry screamed with effort and pain. The circle drank of his will and power and channeled up through him. He felt pure energy shoot through him, from his feet, up his side, out of his wand. The giant shield shimmered, and it pushed the enemy spell back. His hand bled, his chest bled, his heart bled. Yet blood dissolved so fast into the air, his blood burning as it left his body. The burning persisted, piercing the wound and his very heart on fire. As his heart bled and tried to draw more blood. He looked up and saw the immense wings of white burst from the aegis shield, protective and terrifying. He saw the light of the circle and his wand, and the shield turn into one bright burning silver beacon.

Pappa!

A brown haired boy's transparent apparition so clear to him it looked so real ran to him with a smile on his lips.

I love you.

And for the first time, Harry Potter's lips curled up genuinely as the slowly life vanishing red eyes usually associated with Dark Lords stared at Teddy affectionately.

Teddy…

And he saw nothing.

---

The Veela are an all-female-race of demi-humans, known for their divine beauty and affinity with fire. It is common knowledge that Veela are beautiful, deadly and some would say even cursed. For due to one of their innate ability, 'allure', Veela must restrain themselves completely lest they turn everyone around them into blubbering fools, or worse, violent ones. The process is exhausting and very uncomfortable for the Veela in a sense, and because of this so they can only be themselves around other vela or wizards resistant to their ability. This cause the Veela to exclusively marry wizards resistant to their abilities. Unfortunately, only one in a thousand wizards is born with a resistance with Veela allure.

Thus yet, Nature in its wisdom wouldn't allow such flawed species to exist without a counter-balance to such an obstacle to basic survival of a species in the magical eco-system. And so, at birth a Veela bonds with a 'Mate' who is resistant to allure and whose presence they can sense when they come of age. Regardless of anything else, Veela are madly in love with their mates before even meeting them and would at once set out to find him at the age of seventeen, recognizing their mate the minute they set eyes on them. Despite all that however, it was important to note that the bond is completely one-sided, and the mate has full freedom of rejecting the Veela. That had bonded to him. When such a thing happened, the Veela in question would either become suicidal or obsessed with gaining their mate's affection.

Fleur Delacour was one such Veela and as such, at birth, she was instantly bonded with the soul of her Mate. However, for the first three years of her life, Fleur Delacour had been a calm child never whining or crying for anything. Until one July night, she had simply lit up and became a cheerful, fun-loving kid. Her parents had been quite pleased as it meant that she had finally bonded with her mate's magic, signifying her mate was three years younger than herself. A little surprising, but hardly unusual. With each passing year, they were worried the age difference between her, and her mate would be too big, but in the life of a wizard, three years were close to nothing. It had been close to a year since the young Fleur had bonded with her mate's magic and her mother, Apolline, was teaching her to focus on that bond to feel her mate's emotions. Fleur was happy to feel that her mate was both content and peaceful. But as she was about to stop focusing and tell her mother all was right. She suddenly felt overwhelming terror coming from her mate, soon followed incommensurable grief and sadness, then nothing. At that moment, the light began to drain from the young girl's eyes, she began to feel nothing but cold, as if all happiness was gone from the world, slowly she felt everything become pointless to her. Seeing her daughter's reaction, Apolline rushed to comfort her. But the young Delacour was unable to feel any warmth or comfort from her mother's embrace and simply murmured.

"H-he's gone… I can't feel him…"

She still remembered that harsh day when she cried, and her mother paled. There was only one thing that could break the bond between a Veela and her mate… death. When a Veela lost her mate, they would essentially become an empty husk, unable to feel any joy or happiness, they would quite simply lose the will to live. Some could hold on for a few weeks, sometimes a few months, rarely more than a year. But so suddenly she felt him again. It was happy once more, but sad at the same time. It felt different this time. House Delacour was in a frenzy, out of nowhere Fleur started to scream as she gripped her head, an immense amount of magical energy was being channeled through her as if freeing her. While Mr. Delacour tried to help his daughter, Apolline understood this was a natural phenomenon of Magical Nature, and thus instead both Delacour adults started placing wards around the household. The equivalent to an Atomic Bomb but in pure magical energy resonated in the isolated Delacour Household. Albus Dumbledore from his office in Hogwarts could only hear the sound of Glass Breaking, the man hastily went to his desk and stared at the bits of glass broken.

When you try to subterfuge magic's will, it strikes back with hallowed vengeance.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was no fool, he knew about things many wizards didn't and although his specialty of magic didn't involved Sentient Magical Creatures such as The Veela, he knew of a single thing. He knew about Fate and how it twists its thorns at times, for him his greatest student and his greatest failure was in the form of Tom Marvolo Riddle, scion of Slytherin in his Hogwarts School, a boy that he found massive empathy with due to his orphaned state, a boy that fell down an incredibly dark path. Tom was seduced by the Dark Arts of Magic so massively, that in the end the boy was a former shell of what he used to be, obsessed with fleeing mortality, he created a war that took many innocent wizards.

Until hope arrived.

That hope in the form of a child; Jacen Charlus Potter, the second child of James and Lily Potter, both were peremptory Hogwarts Students, pillars of their generation and of their house, people of respectable standing. Nobles who understand their forms and are good members of the magical society. His eyes grew firmer, Fleur Delacour was not a variable he expected in the fate he tried to dictate through his own weaving. Nonetheless being bonded to a Veela spoke of the power and potential a wizard could have, but also it was a jeopardy to his plans. To the supreme Mugwump of the ICW there was a reason for the things he did, fear. Tom Marvolo Riddle did something on the boy, and now that he was starting to understand it, Tom might've deposited onto the boy something of him, parasitic and dark. He could feel it and it could grow if not managed. Harry was placed with his relatives to diminish his relationships, to make him intentionally suffer the loneliness of life to give him a motive to hate the pure-blooded fascism his former student championed at. Harry was isolated from the Magical World to make him see the necessity of the Muggle World to them, for as if Tom ever got Grindelwald's ideas Jacen would confront him as he did to Grindelwald years ago.

For the Greater Good.

That was his reasoning behind all his actions, for the good of many, he had to raise a child soldier to be ready to withstand a war. He gripped his desk hard, Tom did something and caused this event, a magical paradox. So powerful enough to break the seal the veela Fleur Delacour was placed in for the sake of inhibiting Harry Potter. Molly Weasley would've simply ended the job with her love potions, with a weakened veela sealed off from her bond and given the stability of love, potent enough to be controllable. For in his plans, Fleur Delacour had to marry William Weasley, heir of the Weasley family in a plan to recover their strained honor and have a Wizengamot seat. Jacen Potter, he had other plans for the boy who at the moment was being given love and special training by his parents Lily and James. Yet; he had not a good fate reserved for House Potter. Lily, James and Jacen had to die, and Harry had to be disowned, thus ending the line of the Honorable House of Potter and the House of Black; with James, Jacen, Harry and Sirius Dead all the fortunes will be evenly spread between the Weasley Family and himself. A price he was willing to pay as Chief Warlock, seats that can be occupied by new blood anyway. Not anymore, now Fleur Delacour has been unsealed of her bond and probably flowing through magic will be now traces of Jacen Potter not of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

'And Appoline and Nathaniel will discover it.' Dumbledore sighed and massaged his forehead, regardless of it wouldn't be a problem. Right now, his priority was in Jacen and his development.

---

Prologue

Parabellum

---

His vision was blurry, and he wanted to groan, he felt pain most of all a dull throb. If this was the transition from the world of the living to the world of the dead, then he might as well just stay in the realm of restful peace forever if this pain involved the transition. There was a lot of red in his vision however, and thus he had to blink his eyes and make his eyes adjust. Harry found that he was looking right at Fawkes. The late Professor Dumbledore's familiar. Slowly he turned his head to see Tom Marvolo Riddle staring at the magnificence of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. Shaking his head, all what he remembered is being in the middle east as a healer in the Separatist War. He pinched his arm to try and attempt waking up from the dreamless sleep, but he felt a jolt of pain in his arm. He surveyed his surroundings, it was the famed Chamber of Secrets of Hogwarts back in second grade. He almost laughed at the absurdity, ages passed since he was in this room. As he sat down, he groaned as Voldemort's past turned to gaze at him with amusement.

"Thus, the great Boy-Who-Lived…Harry Potter, is at his final wind. How does it feel, the acidic poisonous venom flowing through your veins, burning your insides slowly." As he hissed in parseltongue, the basilisk was tamed and remained calm. "How would you like to die? Slowly being rotten from your insides or being swiftly stared by the basilisk's eyes. Dumbledore won't save you now."

The mad glint in Tom's eyes glittered with a shine as his lips were in an upside sinister grin. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a boy born from hate, like Grindelwald he had a dark story yet there was a single difference that marked Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry Potter. Harry Potter used to love, he was capable of loving. And it is through that love, that he protected. It was through that love that he was able to make such a big sacrifice. Yes; he was let down and his life made many attempts to make him fall on knees. But right now, he knew what he had to do, what was right. Thus, with no regret and so mechanically, he took a hold of the Basilisk fang that bit him, and he opened Tom Riddle's diary, the bane of Ginny's nightmares.

"What are you doi-."

And stabbed it.

Voldemort gasped, his past coming undone as a part of his face glowered. He cried out at Harry who closed the diary and stabbed the front, bleeding ink that looked so much as if it were blood. Tom exploded in a flash of light, vanishing in dust and leaving nothing of his presence.

ŞAdalonda…Ş

He wasn't stupid anymore. He read in his free time Hogwarts: A History, he knew the story of the infamous fascist Salazar Slytherin. He almost grinned, Parseltongue was a weapon he employed at certain times whenever he could to do Parselmagic. His parseltongue had the fluidity and inherent melodious hint that would make the Dark Lord wroth with envy. As the creature turned its head into his direction, he took a breath and sang a lullaby in Parseltongue. The same ones he sang on rare occasions to Teddy's bedside whenever he couldn't sleep. Whenever Teddy had nightmares of his parent's deaths at the hand of those horrendous death eaters, ghosts of the past haunted him. He sung in parseltongue to him, a rare show only the boy could boast openly. By the time the song was already over, Adalonda was coiled and sleeping peacefully, for now the creature had been managed. Turning around, he found his eyes staring right at Fawkes.

Before he could say anything or think anything he felt a massive headache as an influx of memories joined with those of his past, rewriting a part of the past he knew into the past and present of the Harry of this world. When his headache was gone, he could only hang his head. The past of Harry Potter of the World before was gone and replaced with the past of this world's harry potter, the present and future of the Harry Potter of the World Before was however the same. In a scream of Harry James Potter's desire to not be ignored and have identity, it warped Harry Potter of another reality whatsoever forever.

In between all the wounds an innocent boy was however a very damaging event.

Lily Potter being alive and dismissing him from home to the Vernon's willingly, just by a few words of Dumbledore.

He closed his eyes as tears cascaded down his eyes, remembering the gaze and words of his mother Lily Potter who threw him away from home, his father also being convinced of the same.

"Charming woman." He whispered with a sorrowful tone. Almost wanting to laugh in his misery, finding himself now understanding Sirius more and more. He remembered his sorting into Slytherin afterwards in a blatant show of defiance and of hatred towards the family that dismissed him to the Muggle World, to the Durlsey's and to the pain once again. As he analyzed his surroundings, he could only analyze his surroundings.

'I am in the chamber of secrets, Ginny is young. Must mean this is '93.' Harry thought methodically as he frowned as his mind went to overdrive. 'Time travel? When will the strike come back to me?' He thought in alarm, he wasn't oblivious, Time always stroke back when it was cheated. Harry looked around and was relieved to see that the color was returning to Ginny's body. It was hard to stare at her, after what she did in the future…bits and pieces of that love still burned deep inside but it hurt so deep, like glass shards stabbing the insides of his heart so viciously. He closed his eyes and held back his sobs.

'I'm in the past not in the future. This means that I can change things, I can change my fate.' He thought yet at the same time felt a big weight descend on him, the weight of loss and failure. 'Perhaps I'll just defeat Voldemort and walk through the Veil, I'm tired of fighting.' He thought with melancholic sadness reaching his eyes. Harry Potter felt tired; tired of being alone, tired of having to fight, tired of having to suffer and most of all tired of each day those he believed were part of his life leaving him as if he were yesterday's trash. 'I'll just make sure Teddy gets his parents and that will be it. Walking through the veil and getting that peace I've always wanted.'

Harry's eyes cleared as he waved his wand through Ginny's body. It would make no difference, things will have to happen equally the same at first. 'This time I'll die by my own choice and not determine by others.' He thought as he performed a Diagnostic Charm Spell on her to see if she had any ailments and heal them, if necessary, a concerned and worried glance on his eyes as he mumbled the spell from time to time but mostly did his job in silence.

'Weasleys have to survive through '98.' He thought obsessively.

'To defeat Voldemort, I have to destroy his Horcruxes. The Diary, The Gaunt Ring, Slytherin's Locket, Hugglepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Nagini and…myself. Seven in total; one of them has been destroyed.' The boy who lived thought methodically, he was aware that the Gringotts Goblins were expert curse breakers. In a single point in time three horcruxes will be available to destroy; The Cup, The Diadem and the Ring; and the goblins might offer to destroy them for a fair price. The Locket is safe in Grimmauld until Sirius is freed next year, once freed I shall destroy the cursed locket. Which leaves Nagini to be destroyed in Little Hangleton and thus weakening Voldemort for the final showdown either in Little Hangleton or in the Department of Mysteries.' Harry thought obsessively as he was being in and out of consciousness, yet forcing his body to bear through it, he has been through worse pains, he can manage this.

'If I'm back in the past, then it means I can improve. I can become self-reliant sooner.' He thought frowning, however. 'This time my healing abilities and above average DADA won't cut it.'

He thought with a frown as he got up and smiled. Turning to the Hogwarts Sorting Hat resting on the ground, realizing he had the sword of Gryffindor on his hold, he addressed the hat politely at first, politely bowing in apology to it with reverence. "I'm sorry for dropping you." Harry told it as he picked up the hat and gently dusting it off, weaving his wand to cast a scourgify.

"It's alright Mr. Potter. You were in a desperate situation. It is why I gave you the sword." The sorting had was a source of wisdom he appreciated. As he went back to his deep thoughts, he needed to improve a hell lot more, if it happened what he thought was happening. Then he had a greater chance to improve, to save them.

'All Weasleys shall survive '98.' He obsessively thought on a regret as he glanced at Ginny with renewed determination, the ghost of that regret which had a face, and a name shall be vanquished.

'It might be not enough, but I have at least try.' He thought very hard about it a second, as a problem he had to dissect its origins. 'I need a sword, I shall keep it to ask for a goblin smith to craft one for me.' He thought and realized he wanted other things to be forged to him, he was already missing his Combat Wizard Armor made of Goblin Silver. But one can dream now. Ginny though openly sobbed right through his sincere eyes, before she could apologize, he embraced her in an effort to calm her from being under the influence of the Dark Lord Voldemort. The last time he met her she was a successful Professional Quidditch Player for Puddlemore United and was in the Jet-Set of the sporting society of Britain. She was always innocent in the Voldemort War, the only time she got involved was when she openly sought him out and, in the Dumbledore Army, she was involved for being Ron Weasley's little sister. The Golden Trio always sought out to protect her, her counterpart in the same year Luna Lovegood; he wished to not have gotten her involved on all the mess but her gift…the gift of the sight. Was too much to ignore, it was too much of an advantage anyone would've claimed. If Lucius was a little smarter, he would've abused Luna just for the sake of getting enough glimpses at the future.

The next Dark lord?

Lordship over the ICW.

He shivered, for that reason he kept Luna as in his inner circle as much as he could. Never left her alone for even a second of his time, he let many talk into their possible relationship. He didn't gave a shit, and he felt thankful Dumbledore never got aware that someone greater than the Trelawney was right on his school, or less she would've been used. Though Dumbledore's fate was one that couldn't be avoided. Carrying Ginny on his back in piggyback style, she clung to him like lifeline and leaned her head to his shoulder, he shivered. A man's mind trapped in the body of a child is a sin. He though relished in the closeness and fondness that Ginny had for him at the moment as he used the Sword of Gryffindor to maintain himself awake by using it as walking aide. He took a brief second to turn to the chamber of secrets, he had the regret of never scurrying this place more of dissecting its secrets. This time, he shall lay claim to all in the chamber and take it to Grimmauld, if there was a portrait of Salazar then all the better, for the sake of getting rid of that pesky portrait of Walburga Black, he hated the fascist bitch. He felt no remorse when she screamed when he destroyed her portrait from the household and killed her wright, what she said about Teddy was unforgiveable and for making the boy cry was even less forgivable upon the woman.

'Note: Have portraits of better people in 12th Grimmauld.' He thought with a small smile. 'And blast off Walburga's Portrait in the wall, I'm sure Sirius will enjoy my idea. I'm sure I might have an ancestor with a stray portrait that can be placed on the repaired wall.' He thought with depth of focus as he gave one last glance to the Salazar Slytherin statue and the coiled sleeping Basilisk. By the time he arrived with Blaise and the amnesiac Lockhart, he slipped so much in and out of consciousness he didn't even knew what he spoke at all, and by the time he arrived with Madame Pomphrey, he just fell face-side first to the floor.

---

He remembered facing Voldemort, behind him were many people, his death eater followers. As he faced him, he stared at him firmly and still yet with determination. A desperate situation out of a desperate decision caused by a desperate chain of events. He has lost so much already, the pain in his chest was constricting; he felt as a ghost, worse than a ghost. As Voldemort raised his wand.

And it was all blindingly bright green to his eyes.

Opening his eyes wide, he opened them back once more as his face held firm line. Allowing himself to bask in the situation and pull up his Occlumency shields. He thought of his future, it was a mess that his friends once adults barely managed and the Separatist War only showed how truly they were behind when compared to the other ICW members. He remembered what brought him to be a volunteer to the Separatist War, a selfless sacrifice once more as the one Dumbledore made him do pitifully in front of Voldemort to defeat him. Compared to how his 'books' portrayed him, he was a flaw and a flop, even worse than Gilderoy Lockhart. In fact, if he ever wrote a novel of his future he would be openly mocked at and laughed. He could still remember his own bliss at staring at the happiness of others, it made him feel that he had a purpose for their sake.

'I should forget that future, regardless that future isn't my future anymore it has turned into my past that would be no more.' He thought with profound sadness. Moderate coughing interrupted his thoughts to turn to a dark-skinned boy with high cheekbones and long slanting eyes.

"Are you well?"

He narrowed his eyes at the boy facing him and he recognized it anywhere, it was Blaise Zabini, he never knew him until the Sep-War, he was a good friend, a great acquaintance, a good friendship would've been had he not died. "I look good enough, although it seems as if I crawled through the pipes."

A loud chuckle echoed through the medical wing, and he got snippets of memory. In this world, he was mostly alone in his train ride, many were scandalized and wanted to meet Jacen Potter, the Boy Who Lived and defeated Voldemort. The boy who profited from the fame, all while instead he stayed alone in his part of the train. Until a rather silent boy asked if he could have a seat and he nodded. Blaise was very friendly, immensely loyal; even more than Ron after the Triwizard fiasco. "Can you believe Flophart threatened to obliviate me? With my broken wand?" He snorted and crossed his arms in his own stylish manner.

"He must be the worst DADA professor we've had."

He nodded wistfully at his claim. Yet his thoughts were on Dumbledore. He remembered Dumbledore, the Dumbledore that forced him to die to get rid of his Horcrux, the Dumbledore that in the end wasn't with him when the world came tumbling down upon him. He felt angry, so much anger at the man. Yet at the same time he remembered, his own inaction at letting the man die, which consumed his regret. 'Am I even allowed to feel slighted?' He asked once more to the depth of his thoughts. On the other side of the wing was a group surrounding a shaken Ginny Weasley. Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley and Jacen Potter were all surrounding her. Just as Jacen turned to Dumbledore, the Headmaster smiled softly at the coddled Potter spare and asked.

"Jacen, my boy. I am aware you are tired. But I must ask what happened?"

He remembered entering the Chamber of Secrets; Jacen, Hermione and Ron discovered its entrance after a deductive investigation and learning about Moaning Myrtle. Harry however, who spied on them had one think that Jacen didn't.

Parseltongue.

Jacen accredited himself of deducting the mystery behind the chamber, the Diary he recovered from the bathroom, reading upon it. He spoke of the Sorting Hat giving him Godric Gryffindor's sword and stabbing the diary with it to once again defeat Voldemort. He also spoke of Tom Riddle's diary, how he had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes (When it was Hermione who did so); how he and Ron had followed spiders into the forest. What Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he guessed Moaning Myrtle had been the victim and how she led them to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. How he won once more through Voldemort in a Movie-Worth endeavor. And Blaise was the first to show his displeasure, the events weren't even like that.

Harry spied on his little brother's adventures, he saw how Jacen openly bullied Neville and he had to once again used Petrificus Totallus against him. This time though Blaise Zabini didn't want to stay in the sidelines and followed him through everything. He did the Finite Incantatem counter-curse on Neville Longbottom who felt sad and lonely, offering him to follow them on an adventure before the Shy boy could protest, he followed them against their will. The three threatened Lockhart to follow them to the chamber just as he was about to leave the school. Blaise and Himself slid down while they asked Neville to inform anyone of House Heads about what they did.

"Mr. Potter." A voice interrupted his musings as he turned to Professor Snape.

"Professor Snape." Zabini fearfully called out as Harry stayed silent and allowed the professor continued.

"May I know why Mr. Zabini and you were not in your dorms?" The man asked sternly at them both as Harry could only turn away. "I…I spied on Jacen." He could only stare at the bed with a frown, the telltale of Harry James Potter's resentment against his young brother, the envy and hatred he felt for his family.

"He…He was about to fight Voldemort again alone, and…even if I want to hate him for being the reason my mother vanished me." He turned his head away. "He didn't got inside the chamber because he couldn't speak Parseltongue, Ginny was inside and the Diary she had…was a part of Voldemort. He called it 'His Past' and, I faced him to save her. I also spared Neville from being bullied by Jacen and his friends." Harry trailed off to Snape who coldly addressed him, before he could though a loud voice interrupted.

"Ginny!" Mr. Weasley admonished, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was full of Dark Magic!"

Ginny sobbed trying to explain.

The Head of House Slytherin grunted as he gave a side-glare towards the Gryffindor wing, and he turned back to Harry.

Harry James Potter was something hard for Severus Snape to address, the boy was a living proof of how James Potter's blindness blinded her and affected her on a deep level. The newspapers and everyone talked about Jacen Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated Voldemort and yet on the background a boy was suffering. After James married Lily, he never managed to bring his feelings to closure which left him deeply resenting and hating James Potter, even after everything what happened. He knew that the man who is Prime Candidate for Head of DMLE in the Ministry and a very celebrated Auror. However, that didn't stopped his friend Sirius Black from being convicted for killing muggles and betraying the Potters on that fateful night they almost died. Yet the boy's astuteness and ambitions weren't wrong and the fact he managed to save the Weasley-ette and defeat the Dark Lord was a bonus.

"Ten points to Slytherin for saving a fellow Gryffindor student."

It was the only thing he can do at the moment, the Slytherin Potter boy reminded him so much of Lily, he had her green eyes; the boy was intelligent in all subjects and was the top of the year. Unlike the other Potter Boy who was a flop, had a blatant disregard for rules and if also to the claims they said…a bully. And if there was something Severus hated more than Jacen Potter himself, was bullying.

'I shall deduct Ninety-Points from Gryffindor tomorrow at Potion's class for bullying of their fellow Gryffindor student. Jacen's pig father's ways were allowed back then, but not under my watch.'

"Come Blaise, Mr. Potter needs to rest." His order was understood by Blaise who gave one last wave to him, and both left the Medical Wing.

---

After Severus Snape was gone from the medical wing, Harry got off from his bed and approached to the bed where a petrified Hermione Granger still lied. Against all odds, she did it again, she risked her life betting against Andalonda for the sake of revealing Voldemort's plot. He gripped her hand, it was cold, lifeless and hard as stone. He could only sigh and grip her hand, in his past life he had conflicting feelings about Hermione. "You know, no one ever got to thank you for leading us to the Chamber." He closed his eyes and caressed the hand of his friend. His lips lightly curled up. "Thank you." He sighed and bit his lip. The last time they met was during her wedding with Ron, there were things unsaid between them and when he attended Fleur…Fleur openly insulted him. That day was another pain, the Weasley's openly blamed him for Fred's death and lynched him away. Hermione, she said things that hurt. She resented him for the rejection of her feelings, feelings he didn't even knew or grew aware that existed. More so she blamed him for leaving her alone on Malfoy Manor to be tortured by Bellatrix.

And when Fleur called him The-Boy-Who-Failed, that marked the moment it stuck with him forever. And the moment he truly hated and resented Fleur Weasley. Touching his left ribcage, the phantom pain of a scar that is not there still being felt. "I had a secret I never told you." He told her silently, sitting by her side. Madame Pomphrey was long gone, and the hospital wing was all alone. "You would've liked Teddy." He conducted, yet he bit his lip.

"Funny that the moment where I felt most free, life took it from me." He wandered out loud, not knowing what to think but he felt it deep in his gut. A rage he wouldn't usually feel as it rose into a feeling of betrayal.

"I won't look forward to another summer with the Dursleys." He said and he shifted in his bed as he turned to Hermione, he gripped her hand. "I still stay with them." He spat with hatred. The Dursley were the worst of the bunch, he hated them all. He chose to burn the invitation to Vernon's funeral. They were no family of his, he'll rather burn away than openly put an arm to protect them.

"…I killed Sirius by falling into that trap to lead us to the Department of Mysteries." He gripped her hand tightly. She was his voice of reason, whenever he was out in his own delirious thoughts, she brought reason. She was the one that took harshly his hands and put him in place, the only one he could trust enough to speak so openly of his feelings.

"I need you." He confessed and leaned his forehead on her hand, he clasped her hand in between his own.

"I swear Hermione, I won't let you be this damaged again. I'll do everything I can to protect you. Even if I'm on another house." He promised sincerely, he had to get better. He cannot allow that scenario, he shivered as he closed his eyes and still remember the green light. He won't let her suffer that fate, no one deserves it…not her. As the doors slammed open again, Poppy Pomphrey was treating those affected by the Basilisk's stare. Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy briskly walked towards his general direction, Fury in his face. Cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages was Dobby. As Dumbledore appeared once more at the door, Dobby was crouching at the hem of the blond man-s cloak, a look of abject terror in his face. The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was trying to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoy's shoes. Yet Mr. Malfoy had set out in such a great hurry, for as his shoes didn't shone or looked as polished as it would be prim for his usual and his hair was disheveled from the usual sleek style of regal nobility he poised with. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.

"So, they made you come back." Mr. Malfoy's smile was crooked, evil and spoke of malicious intent.

"Well, you see, Lucius." Dumbledore said, smiling serenely. "The other eleven governors contacted me today. It was like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they said to me, too. Several of them seemed to think that you threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury. "So –have you stopped the attacks yet?" He recognized his rival's sneer now in the man. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have." Dumbledore smiled as the man pushed forth. "The same person as last time, Lucius." Said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. Employing this diary." He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby. The elf doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

'So, he's one of Voldemort's men?' Harry thought, making sure to study Mr. Malfoy once he gets the chance and everything, he can find of this possible enemy now openly exposed to him.

"I see…" Mr. Malfoy slowly said to Dumbledore.

"A clever plan, because…" Dumbledore levelled his voice, staring straight through Mr. Malfoy's eye. "If Jacen here-." Mr. Malfoy shot him a swift, sharp look. "—and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, Ginny Weasley might've taken the blame. No one would've ever been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…"

Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike. "And imagine." Dumbledore went on. "What might've happened then…the Weasley's are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his daughter was discovered attacking – and killing Muggleborns… Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might've been otherwise…"

Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak, his smile already false. Forced. "Very fortunate." He stiffed.

And yet, behind his back, Dobby still pointed. First to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head. Harry got up from his chair and stood at the foot of Hermione's bed, acting as a flesh shield between Lucius Malfoy and Hermione, nodding at Dobby, the house elf backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment. Losing the conversation between the Headmaster and Mr. Malfoy for a moment. "Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that Diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Jacen asked to the man sweetly.

Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" He spoke.

"Because you gave it to her." Said Jacen with all sweetness gone. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

Unknown to him, his eyes started glowing and swirling like a storm brewing. Lucius became aware he had pissed not one but two. Harry's eyes were glowing eerie green similar to the killing curse, while Albus Dumbledore's grandfatherly persona was absent. In its place the man who had defeated Grindelwald and the only person his master feared the most.

Only Jacen would pick up on someone with political power as Lucius Malfoy without having something to back him up, doing it so recklessly even without that much of consideration. Watching the interaction between the bastard of a Headmaster Hogwarts has, the brother he has and Lord Malfoy, he grew bored of it. Dumbledore skirted around the other students under the gaze of Lucius and Jacen.

"-Oh, no one will be able to do that." Dumbledore said, smiling at Jacen on the topic about having proof of Lucius Malfoy's plot. Carelessly placing Tom's diary on a nearby table as he addressed the Lord of Malfoy House.

Seeing the diary near Hermione's table, he took it and pocketed it. Dashing out of the medical wing of Hogwarts into the corridor. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could work, he hastily took off one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed it into the diary. One less number for his enemy, would make this day sweeter and a true victory for him. As he ran down the dark corridor, he caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy." He gasped, skidding to a halt. "I think this is yours…" He handed the diary back to Lucius Malfoy who stared at it. Shoving it to Dobby once again, looking from the ruined book to Harry. Not knowing how to react since it wasn't the usual Potter boy but a different one with Slytherin robes. He was never aware one of James's son was on the Dark Lord's house. Shrugging in irritation and rising his head the man turned to go. "Come, Dobby. I SAID, COME."

But Dobby didn't react. He was holding up Harry's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking as it though were a priceless treasure.

"Master has given a sock." Said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" Spat Mr. Malfoy.

"Got a sock." Said the house eld in disbelief. "Master has given Dobby a diary, with a sock inside it –Dobby is free."

Dobby's eyes lightened up so bright at that moment that Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf then lunged at Harry. "You've lost me my servant, boy!" But Dobby shouted.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

There was a loud bang and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. The man got up just as fast as he was down and glared at him, before he smiled.

"You might've won today, Potter. But today's victory, may be tomorrow's failure. Go on and take that miserable elf-."

With regal elegance the man dusted off his robes in a gesture to add salt to the insult he gave to the young boy.

"I've got better ones than that failure of House Elf."

He stayed silent as the man walked away, his icy gaze leering on the retreating man. So much things have now changed in his life. And now, to survive, he'll have to be the top of this year's finals as a first step of greatness and also, to be able to protect those he holds dear from men, men like Mr. Malfoy.

---

January 12th 1993 / Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry / Slytherin Common Room

Harry collapsed on his bed after coming from the feast. It was very good, not because of the food or anything but because his dear friend was back. After the feast had started, the students who had been petrified along with the Gryffindor house ghost had entered the hall. It had been a heart-touching reunion as friends met again after several weeks. Hermione had given him a rib-crushing hug, patted Neville's back and Blaise gave him a hand shake. Hermione had then gone ahead to pester him quite relentlessly for information. Harry gave her a summary of what had happened in the chamber, leaving parts about his mother, the hat and of course Adalonda still slumbering in the Chamber's insides.

Neville informed him that Ginny had been taken home and would return the following Monday before classes. 'Five days from now.' Harry thought. Hagrid had come mid-way through the feast amid cheers. Dumbledore had informed the students that a student had been controlled by an artifact of unknown origin which led to the opening of the Chamber.

The headmaster convinced the lie that Ginny Weasley had been kidnapped by the person and informed them that Jacen and Ron had managed to destroy the artifact, freeing the person from its control and saving Ginny. Still though while many turned to Dumbledore and listened with rapt attention his eyes stared at the food with his fists balled underneath the table. Professor McGonagall also informed the students that those who were petrified were offered a crash course starting next week to make up for the missed weeks. Which in Harry's opinion, was a good decision.

He had not been bothered to change his clothes after coming back. He was tired, after confronting Mr. Malfoy, he went back to the dorm and took a shower to change afterwards. He was on the receiving end of several odd looks from the people in the common room but had ignored them.

'Tomorrow I will go and explore the chamber.' Harry thought.

---

January 13th 1993 / Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry / Slytherin Dorms

He was never a late sleeper or so he believed, perhaps he might've been wrong with the way he woke up today so late and with the sun rays never ending to peek through his window. This must meant he had slept over. At the Dursley's he had to wake up at five-thirty in the morning to make breakfast since he was six. Vernon had to leave for his office at seven, thus breakfast at six-thirty. Even at Hogwarts, he had kept the habit, from five thirty to seven thirty, the time when most of his dormmates woke, he used time to do homework or study in secret. He could've easily come in the top five last year easily, but he held himself back and came on the 24th position in the year out of 57. Why? Because the Dursley's didn't like he did better than their precious Dudley. So, he had always dumbed himself down. At Hogwarts, he didn't want Ron to get jealous of him, as he was his first friend.

'No more.' He told himself. He would only be number one, no less. It helped that Hermione had gone on a heavy revision schedule as she had missed three weeks' worth of schooling. "We only have three weeks to prepare, I don't want to fail!" She told them.

He snorted at her antics, even then they were so her. He was sure that even if Hermione had been given the exams there and then, she would've passed with flying colors. They were given the day off and Hermione had dragged him, Neville and Blaise to the library after breakfast.

Hermione's absence had also made him aware how dependent he was on her for his schoolwork, as was clear from his grades in the first few assignments after petrification. As horrible as her petrification was, it had a silver lining alongside his goal. Harry had started to pull his own weight in classes, the loss of his crutch had forced him to walk on his own, and he was better off for it. He was at a higher standing now than he was before her petrification. He had developed an habit of self-dependence early in his life. Lost after he came to Hogwarts. His dependence to Blaise and Hermione, while she could make corrections or small additions in his lethargic work for him, this wasn't the same as him understanding the concept methods, and this led to a fringed understanding of the material. The quartet had continued studying for another three hours before Harry had forcible dragged everyone for lunch. They had already completed the revision for Charms and Astronomy. After lunch, she made Harry return to the library. She is truly a wonderful friend. Deciding there was no time like the present, he stopped writing and started to speak.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I-I don't know how to do this; I only have one chance and I really want to get it right."

"Get what right? The last Charms assignment of the term?", Hermione said, gesturing to the parchment lying on the table between them. "Don't worry about it Harry! I'm sure did enough for an O, or at least a high Exceeds, by the way, I'm so happy that you've gotten serious about your schoolwork, I've always said your grades were beneath your calib-"

"No Hermione, that is not what I'm talking about." He interrupted her, lightly fidgeting.

"Oh?"

...

"What's going on Harry?" Hermione said when Harry didn't reply.

"Thank You."

Hermione looked at him, a little confused. But before she could say anything, he started to speak again.

"Thank you, for….everything. You're amazing, you know that? Ever since we became friends, after a Slytherin saved you from that troll alone. You've done so much for me, you would push me to work so I didn't miss deadlines, you would even make corrections before I turned the parchment in, but it goes beyond that. Whenever I feel down or anxious, you're always there – before my first quidditch game, at Halloween…and you would try to comfort me or cheer me up or just be there…When you got petrified, your absence made me realize just how lucky I am to be friends with you. You're an extremely intelligent, supportive, selfless, kind and caring person and I am so glad we're together."

Without warning, Hermione launched herself into Harry and pulled him into a rib-cracking hub, he let out "oomph" as he was momentarily winded before he went ahead to return the gesture. Harry got the feeling she was crying and once they separated, he saw she indeed had shed a few tears. He hadn't upset her, had he? She wouldn't have hugged him if that was the case-.

"Don't be alarmed Harry, it's just that…. that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, you know?" She wondered out loud, before continuing.

"And oh, don't worry about it! What are friends for? Also, who cares about you being a Slytherin? You're more Gryffindor to me anyway. Also, I'm happy to see how mature you've become, this year has been tough, and just plain crazy at times." She rolled her eyes.

"I mean honestly, a giant 50-year-old talking spider! And don't even get me started on Snake Medusa! But really, you've grown up a lot this year.…. even if you are one of the shortest boys in our year." Hermione ended jokingly. He didn't knew how Andalonda would take to being called 'Snake Medusa' but he now knew the reason.

Both shared a laugh at that, though Harry inwardly hoped he would hit a growth spurt over the summer. "I owe Blaise a big 'thank you' as well, he's stuck by me this whole time too… Really, you and Blaise are the absolute best friends I could have ever asked for." said Harry, meaning every word of it.

"And you're the best friend I could have asked for.". Here Harry noted she had left out Blaise's name, and he was pretty sure it wasn't a mistake. "Well, I haven't exactly been doing a good job as a best friend have I?" Harry added a dejectedly. "What! Harry you've been nothing short of an amazing friend and don't let anyone tell you otherwise". She raised her hand to stop him interrupting and continued to speak.

"Really, after we became friends after that….…let's call it that 'episode', I noticed how you would try and get the other Gryffindors and Slytherins to be nicer to me, or at least not mean. I may never have spoken about it, but I know you requested the Quidditch team to befriend me, even if they initially found me repulsive, so to make me feel accepted and comfortable."

He felt emotional, he tried not to make tears cascade down his eyes. "And then there were the small acts like silent gestures pleading others not to make any remarks towards me when I had irritated them, giving me a shoulder to cry on when I missed my parents too much…"

He stopped at that for a moment, staring at his fists. 'No, they won't betray me as their friends did.' Harry thought deeply in reassurance.

"If you hadn't saved me that day and become my friend, I don't think I would have continued at Hogwarts.". Hermione once again signaled him to stop before he could object to her statement. "No, understand Harry, this was the first time I had ever left my parents for more than a day, and I missed them terribly. I hadn't adjusted to life at boarding school and thought if I going to remain friendless, the muggle world would be better, because at least I would still have my parents with me. Magic is such a wonderful thing, and being muggleborn, I would have had all my memories of it taken, I would have had my magic taken…well that's actually incorrect, you see they don't "take" your magic, they just bind it and hide it inside you, so they aren't technically taking anythi- Oh Not a word you!" exclaimed Hermione, at Harry's amused expression. "Like I was saying, you saved me from losing something so special, and gave me something I'd never had but always wanted, so you've done really well at this best friend thing as far as I'm concerned."

Harry gave her an appreciative smile. Then, he moved his arms around Hermione, and pulled her into a hug, momentarily stunning the bushy-haired girl. This was the first time EVER that Harry had started physical contact. Getting over her shock, she returned the hug whole-heartedly. They stood like that for a few moments, in complete silence, before Harry whispered, "I've missed you, Hermione."

---

"ŞOpenŞ" Harry hissed at the sinks in the second-floor girl's bathroom. Currently Moaning Myrtle wasn't in the bathroom, most likely loitering in some sinks or pipes. The sink slid open. Harry prepared to jump in but paused. He couldn't imagine Salazar Slytherin jumping into a pipe and sliding down it. "ŞStepsŞ"

A spiraling staircase grew out magically from it. It certainly was impressive magic as he could see the width of the pipe expand, but the size of the main hole remained the same. "Lumos."

He descended the steps holding his wand tip alight. He passed the cave in where Flophart's spell had struck and then entered the main chamber. The chamber was still the same as yesterday. But now he noticed the snake motifs around the pillars, the torches that burned permanently along the walls, and the cold beauty of the chamber. But the main thing he noticed was a gigantic snake, around sixty meters in length, as thick as an oak tree with poisonous green scales and fangs as long as his forearm, coiled around itself and slumbered. Ignorant of the world around it.

On the floor near the basilisk was dried blood and ink.

Walking ahead, to the place from where the snake had come out.

"ŞSpeak to me, Salazar Slytherin. Greatest of the Hogwarts fourŞ." He spoke the words Riddle had spoken to call the Basilisk.

The mouth of the statue opened, and Harry climbed up in it. There was nothing much except a door to his right a bit further down the corridor. Also, the corridor continued further down. Harry first decided to go ahead instead of opening the door. The corridor ended in a steep drop after a hundred meters. Down there, he could see Snakeskins and bones of animals. 'Adalonda's nest.' He realized. Concluding that there was nothing here, he went back towards the door he had seen.

"Alohomora."

The door clicked open. He raised an eyebrow at the door. He snorted. A normal unlocking charm? Seriously!?

'Then again, nobody except Salazar Slytherin would've been able to come here.' He thought before pushing the door open and entering.

It was a big plain study, with the only difference that the room was littered with gold coins, gold bars, many different jewels, all piled up in fountains and in disarray. A simulation of Smaug's place. Or to be specific, the very treasure of Scrooge McDuck. There was a polished ebony desk, a bookshelf with few books, a couple of armchairs, a fireplace, a single bed in the corner of the bedroom. On one wall there was a painting. The painting a family; a man, a woman and children. On the wall directly in front of the door was the Slytherin House crest and by its side the Hogwarts crest. He approached to both crests and crossed his hands on them. It was an urge and an instinct he followed to press his hand on them.

As the wall rumbled and Harry stepped back. The wall slid open to reveal another study, much larger. Several hundreds of books and several doors. The room had even more treasures in it, gold, precious stones, valuable gems, jewels of untold value, all the priced precious things worth treasures pirates would die for in a single room. There was so much gold his eyes had to half-lid due to the very shine of the color around him. There was nothing else, and he frowned.

Was this all what there was about Salazar Slytherin, just a huge room with riches and that was it. No bookshelf, no portrait, no nothing.

'Hmmm.' He frowned in his thoughts and went outside, casting with his wand a Lumos spell but with more intensity he glanced at the chin of Salazar Slytherin's statue, underneath there was an inscription.

To transcend to the greatest of lights, one must first be willingly to the depths of the darkest dark.

Reading the line in parseltongue a flushing sound was heard, the water pool was flushed of its water, and it revealed a big dark hole. 'I knew there was more to this place.' Harry thought.

…

…

…

Thirty minutes later Harry took with him his beloved Nimbus flying broom and mounted it, as he left the ground, he casted another lighting charm. As he went through and beyond the dark chasm of the pool on Salazar's old statue. The brilliant orb of light sunk into the Darkness as Harry swooped downwards at full speed. It took him an hour to reach to the bottom. Granted, he hadn't gone full speed, but the put was terrifyingly deep. There were small indents on the way down that he could only describe as rest areas. Perhaps in Salazar's time brooms were uncommon and this was meant to be descended through magic. The clearly marked areas, the presence of occasional, symmetric ledges, but the lack of clear wards other than parseltongue to keep intruders out painted this not as a zone which was forbidden to enter but a test, limited to those who could speak the tongue of the snake.

The down below, turned out, was an empty corridor, flooded with what could be the water from the lake. By then he had reached the large door at the end of the tunnel. He felt afraid, never had he been so deep inside the Chamber of Secrets, what was believed to be a single room always held the potential to be something grandeur, something beyond a single big Great-Hall sized room with so much gold and jewels to forever make him rich. Something beyond the riches of man.

After a cursory scan, making himself certain that the door wasn't cursed. He tried all the unlocking charms he knew but none of them had any effect whatsoever.

"ŞOpenŞ." He hissed.

The doors didn't do such, they just slid back into the wall on either side. And with that, came a hissing noise as air exploded out of it, revealing a brightly illuminated chamber on the other side. So many bright beautiful colors were gazed at, On the floor were the immense treasures; gold, jewels; all materialist effects that drew a man to earth. And that wasn't the only thing. There was power there, the energy within the chamber was palpable, and the hairs of his head began to stand up. Whatever was stored in this place, was powerful beyond measure. Whatever was being stored here must've been big to generate so much ambient energy simply from being bypassed.

He took a step forward and stared. For what lay on the other side was mind-boggling.

It was a vast cathedral. The beautiful mishmash of bright colors of riches on the floor extending so far beyond his eyes couldn't even see anymore, the bright white light shining from above causing the beautiful multi-colored glow. Even then however a shadowy darkness clung to the walls, adding a rich contrast to the Chamber. He watched in eye as the massive stone shelves rose out from the floor, reminding him of that show he once watched about the Amazonian rainforests. With vines rising out and climbing upwards past the canopy to reach the light.

And on those shelves were books.

Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. It was as if below on the floor were all the material what drove men to earth. And yet high above those riches were the heavens, which drove men up from earth. Hogwarts Library had nothing on this. Harry decided to first try to read this place fully, to know it and get a feel of it before he could do anything else. He could only wonder why Tom Riddle had left these books intact. Had he been so arrogant enough to imagine that no other parselmouth would ever be intelligent enough to find the chamber. He looked back at the massive door, it wasn't too difficult to imagine a young Tom Riddle, a muggleborn ostracized by his own classmates in Slytherin House, finding the Chamber and walking into this very place. He could imagine the awe in the boy's eyes, and the promise of potential that the Chamber had given him. No doubt the origins of the Dark Lord Voldemort lay in this very room. Yet something about it felt odd. Jumping down below where Demons dwelt, only to land in stagnant water?

And now this floor with the riches far beyond those in possession of Gringotts and a library older and larger than any other he had ever seen? And that energy, that sheer power filling up the chamber; something told him that this place had more to do than be a reservoir for old books.

It felt like a…

"Temple." He mused.

The most magnificent piece of architecture in the Chamber.

It arose from the ground, horizontal bands of pure metal, grooved and sculpted with exquisite craftsmanship, twisting its way in an upward spiral, forming a dais. The bands were thick, each of them easily a foot tall, coiling around itself like a serpent and from the apex rose a mighty serpentine form, erect, its top bifurcated into seven heads, each of them looking in different directions, hoods flared and emerald eyes that see through the soul. It was the gigantic edifice of a runespoor.

A seven-head runespoor.

"Ananta-shesha. All there is in the end." He wondered, caught in the hypnotic gaze of those emerald eyes looking at him like they knew all his secrets. He thought back on how Tom Riddle had addressed Slytherin's statue. Both belonged to ancient beings and if speaking to the former allowed them entry, then perhaps addressing the latter could cause something?

"ŞAnanta-SheshaŞ."

The entire edifice sprang to life. Seven heads shifting around, hissing less like a language and more like an engine's rambling, resonating all across the entirety of the chamber. The stone behemoth extended itself to its greatest height, the seven heads covering the greatest distance from each other, forming a large semi-circular hood. Emerald eyes glowering with eldritch power as they regarded him menacingly.

'Shite.' Harry thought.

The screaming malevolent energy from before was back with a vengeance, power which felt so wrong, a pressure so pervasive that it made him want to throw up. As the multitude of hisses that sounded less like voices addressed him with a single word.

Trespasser!

The machine roared as the roar of another rung through the halls, Adalonda slithered forward and stood by its new Master's side.

Enough!

On the floor, golden inscriptions glowered akin to the power of runes. On closer notice, he realized the inscriptions carved in curved bands, each of them separated by strange markings and then continuing on another band, forming a large circle with the edifice falling within its periphery. At a closer look, they weren't inscriptions but hieroglyphs, or rather a single hieroglyph repeated in sets of three. Each formed a different animal, making a total of twenty-eight animals.

What was all of this? 'I don't understand.' He thought with a frown and turned back at the source of the voice. Beyond the seven-headed runespoor rose a stone wall. On the wall hung a single portrait, a man. Athletic with black hair tied in a ponytail with a few streaks of grey. His eyes were a familiar shade of Avada Kedavra green. His mother's…and thus his. Harry realized now.

Greetings. Welcome to my humble abode. My name is Salazar Slytherin. It is an honor to meet you, Harry Potter.

He stood there gaping like a fish out of water. Was it because Salazar Slytherin of all people had the same eyes, showing the same lineage or the fact that he was in front of the living portrait of one of the Founders of Hogwarts or just the fact that it knew his name, he didn't know. Admittedly he was very famous in the wizarding world, but he couldn't fathom how a portrait, of a Hogwarts founder no less, closed-off on a secret chamber, knew of him.

Are you going to stand there gaping like a moron? It's quite rude, you know.

Slytherin spoke after a moment or two.

"Err…yes. My name is Harry Potter. But you already knew that." He added sheepishly. "But, how do you know my name?"

He had to control his emotions of shock at his situation. He was talking to a founder of Hogwarts! Salazar was a bigot of the highest order and a dark wizard. He had no confidence in the subject of history that had been recorded. As far as he knew, what was written in them had a high chance of being wrong. His own history being also mostly speculation since the night of Halloween 1981. Books said that Harry as a baby had done obscure accidental magic to rebound the killing curse. His childhood according to many books was spent in a castle. Some said he had been away to train with the best of wizards.

He was hailed as a hero in his first year and a villain, the heir of Slytherin, this year. Currently, he had just chalked up his and Slytherin's eyes being the same as a mere coincidence. After all, many people had the same eye-color, didn't they.

You speak Parseltongue, an ability I tied to my bloodline. You and I have the same eyes if you look closely. You are my descendant. You say your mother was a muggleborn, right? She must've been a descendant of mine. Most muggleborns are descendants from a squib, child. Salazar assured.

"Don't you dislike muggleborns?" He asked hesitantly.

The portrait scowled. Someday I shall kill the idiot who started this ridiculous rumor. I never disliked muggleborns! I disliked the muggles. Vile disgusting creatures. I wanted to supply a haven to muggleborns here at Hogwarts by taking them away from their parents as soon as they showed signs of magic! I never wanted to kill muggleborns. Just wait till I get my hands on the one who started this ridiculousness ruining my image and legacy. I will rip him from limb to limb with my bare hands! The man roared.

"You are a portrait. You can't touch anyone, let alone rip someone apart from limb to limb." Harry sassed. The moment Salazar had scowled, Harry was prepared for the views he held about the founders to be ripped apart.

Then I will find a way, I am Salazar Slytherin after all.

"You still haven't answered my question. How do you know my name?" Harry questioned curiously.

I created my portraits in such a way that I can be connected to each and every portrait in Hogwarts and other of my own portraits. I know all, they ever hear or see. Several portraits are even connected to other portraits outside the castle. I know most things that go around the world. I also make house elves get me books and newspapers from the library when no one is looking. I know more about the world than most people who are alive. I have eyes everywhere and ears everywhere else, all around the glove. Salazar Slytherin grinned at him.

Harry felt his eyes widen. This way, he knew essentially everything. There were thousands of Portraits in Hogwarts, and it had the largest number of house-elves in whole Europe. What kind of information and secrets they would know. Harry could only fathom.

To answer your question more specifically. I was unaware of my descendants of anything related to it until a fateful day in December 12th 1959 by a pregnant woman named Vinda Rosier in the Rosier Castle in France. In there the best portrait ever made of myself was unsealed after my eldest son, a Dark Lord in his own right who raped many women during his time and fathered many children. You must be aware that I…I had a daughter with Ravenclaw, our first daughter married to the last descendant of Herpo the Foul birthing Caldwell Gaunt, yet her husband died and she married to a Muggle Noble of House Hohenzollern; birthing Theophrastus Van Hohenzollern also known as Paracelsus who was also a Prince-Elector of the Margraviate of Brandenburg.

Salazar's face was a grim one with a straight poker face. Gromlaith was a product of her grandfather's insanity and the times she lived at. My beloved Agatha still hopes that from her line, a long line of Dark Lords, hateful, powerful and insane men something good will come. Slytherin, Hohenzollern, Carmilla, Azkaban, Gaunt, Pendragon, Rosier; those are the names that unconsciously Lillian Mary Potter (nee Pendragon Rosier) carried and gave to you. The legacy of all these very big names in the wizarding world brings us to you…Harry Potter.

Many of the names spoken were new but some he heard about them. "But Gromlaith Gaunt lived in the 1600, how can I be related to her?" Harry inquired with genuine interest to the portrait that chuckled. Well to be truthful; I had two grandsons. A Wizard and a Squib. My Wizard grandson was gifted with magic, my Squib grandson wasn't. My squib grandson married to Carmilla Sanguina who had only a daughter, who married to Ekrizdis Azkaban. Ekrizdis was always an odd man, paranoid…they had so many stillbirths until only a single survived. Dante amassed power, married to Gormlaith. Had a daughter; Marie, she married to the young Lestrange sibling Thomas while Gormlaith took the eldest for herself using Imperio.

Marie and Rabastan birthed Taylor who married the Pure-blooded eldest son of Lord Rosier, birthing Vinda who did a magical marriage with Gellert Pendragon Bagshot known by you all as Gellert Grindelwald.

Harry rose an eyebrow once again, Gellert Grindelwald was a half-blood as history called it, thus why would he so suddenly be a pure-blood and have relation with a family as obscure and great as the Pendragon. "Why would he get the names since he had a squib father?" Scratching his head at the convoluted genealogy he had, Salazar smirked.

Because Squibs in the end are pure-blooded magical folk, of course if they have muggle blood in their line gives them the 'half-blood' status and so on. Gellert Grindelwald never truly grew aware of his ancestors, it did him good…The Pendragon Family is a big name still in the Magical World and in the ICW. It makes him heir of Avalon, a country that still up to today is invisible to our eyes.

Many of the names spoken were new but some he heard about them. "Err…sir, I apologize for placing your basilisk in slumber. It was the only way." He said wringing his hands.

Adalonda needs a new body, if you allow me.

From the very portrait and through the chamber magic rumbled powerfully, as Adalonda the Queen of Snakes slithered and opened her jaw…as if akin to multiplying a new Adalonda appeared from the insides of the other Adalonda who now remained motionless and lifeless in the floor. The new Basilisk had rounder eyes, and no Killing Sight, no insanity.

Massster, it isss ssssweeet to hear your voice after ssso long.

The snake hissed as it turned to the boy.

"ŞYou bit Harry Potter, a descendant Pure-of-Heart of mine. Thus, as of today you shall now be his familiar. Thus, your duty is to now obey his orders as you would have me during my years in the realm of the living. Since the bite was given and the Phoenix presence in his blood now out, the lingering venom will be enough to set up your connection with him. I bind Andalonda, Queen of Snakes to the mage known as Harry Potter, descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Previous owner of Andalonda.Ş" Harry hissed in pain falling on his knees and clutching his arm, the tattoo of a coiling snake made itself known on his right forearm, the symbol of a familiar bound to his blood and magical core.

Andalonda is now yours Harry, she is more than 1700 years old and 60 meters long, a long life for a Basilisk. Might as well be truly the longest living basilisk. Aside from what you know of her, she can breathe out fire, an instant killing the moment eyes are gazed and of course its skin resists all types of spells including the curses your Death Eater enemies love so much, its only weakness are roosters and mirrors. Now, she can only petrify or kill by your orders. On everything else, she is unbeatable the perfect familiar and the ultimate shield.

Harry widened his eyes in surprise.

Now, you have the entire body of a basilisk to use as you wish. The venom glands however are empty, so you'll have to learn to milk it out of Adalonda. Regardless, you can harvest this corpse but a few things of it are useful as sacrifice to improve yourself. You can kickstart your true magical maturity, you can undo the damage the muggle relatives you stayed with did to you, expand your magical core, heighten your senses, improve your mind to ease your Occlumency. There will still be enough left to have quite the Galleons to hand to Gringotts.

"I'll do it!" Harry cried out to the portrait as fast as he could, any chance he can get to be better he would take it regardless.

What happened to you after your parents' abandoned you?

Salazar broke the silence.

"There isn't much to be honest. I grew up with my muggle relatives, the Dursleys -my mother's…." He trailed off as he hung his head. "My mother's adoptive family. They're muggles, so I had to be kept in that house alone until Hagrid – the gamekeeper, brought me my Hogwarts letter." He lightly smiled at the moment his life entered the magical world after being abandoned by it, it was so different and of course, where he first made his true friends.

They hate magic, don't they?

"What makes you say that?" He asked defensively with a frown.

You said you didn't know you were a wizard because you lived with muggle relatives, which does not make sense. Your aunt was always aware of your heritage, yet she CHOSE not to tell you. I also noticed you scoff at when I mentioned muggles accepting one of their own as a wizard…. You did not had a pleasant childhood, did you?

Harry combed his hair, his childhood wasn't happy. He lived a life where he was stripped of ever having a family. He had no one, in fact his family were his friends. He has grown so alone to the point where he starved of the only thing that is so hard to consume or even be given at all…love.

"I don't want to talk about it." He said bitterly.

Have you ever shared the full story of your childhood with anyone?

He balled his fists. "No, I have not. And I am not going to! They all speak of Jacen Potter, the boy who lives in a castle, was trained by magicians! All while Harry James Potter was abandoned by his family! I don't need anyone's sympathy! DROP IT!" He screamed out the last part. Andalonda who was peacefully coiled and hiding in the golden bed of the room of treasures had her eyes gazing up at her familiar.

I understand.

"No, you don't!" He insisted. "You don't understand at all! I don't need your empty words." Harry started to cry, as memories from his miserable life at the Dursleys flooded his mind. The sheer fact he would have to go back again to Surrey was already heavy on his mind and made him feel even sadder. For once, he truly wished to be free. He almost laughed, he was so selfless he gave Dobby the very thing he could never have.

Very well, I will drop the matter. Though you will find my words are not empty, they are far from it. You forget the era I belong to – there were plenty of muggleborn students who had been shunned by their own in my time…one of them being myself. You have nothing to be ashamed of, if anyone should be ashamed, it is your 'relatives'. His ancestor spat. I was a teacher for many decades, child, trust me when I say you should talk about it. Suppressing what is clearly a very strong and unresolved experience will only hinder you.

He contemplated telling his weights to his ancestor, eventually deciding there was no harm in telling a portrait. He did so and it began. Harry explained about the prophecy, about Dumbledore's obsession with it. How Dumbledore, had asked his relatives to take him in and left him on their doorstep with nothing but a letter. Then, he let out everything about his life before Hogwarts. How he didn't even knew his name until he started school, living in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years. What he suffered under the Dursleys, how he didn't knew what his parents looked like until he saw them in the Mirror of Erised. Each incident he narrated brought another into his mind, and eventually he started to cry as he bitterly recounted his time at the Dursleys. Turns out, Salazar was right, while painful, it was strangely comforting to just say it.

You have endured a lot of pain and misery in your young life. But their treatment of you goes beyond their inability to understand, and hence fear magic.

"Added to all of this is Tom Riddle who wants to kill me for just being born. I need to get stronger. I narrowly survived last time, and that too under extraordinary circumstances. I MUST become self-reliant." He pleaded and at the same time desperate.

If only there was conveniently an ancient and knowledgeable wizard present who could teach you.

They both laughed as he went to his clock.

"Tempus." Harry weaved his wand. It was almost six hours since he had arrived.

"Shite!" He explained, in between speaking and having a deep conversation with Salazar his ancestor he was now past dinnertime.

"I was supposed to go back four hours ago. My friend was waiting for me at the library. Now its past dinnertime." Harry said desperate, fidgeting.

Calm down boy. Check the fourth drawer on my desk. It has a time turner. How much time has passed since you arrived?

Salazar's legendary personal Time Turner was a legend of course spoken between voices. As valuable as Slytherins locket.

"Four hours forty-minutes approximately." Harry replied.

Go back six hours. complete turns of time turner should do it. We are anyways going to use it for your training. On the bookshelf, blue book is the manual to my time turner. Go to the kitchens and have a snack, just tickle the pear to get in. Also, before you go. Take a book from the shelf and show me a levitation charm using your wand.

Harry followed the strange request.

Now without your wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Nothing happened. Harry frowned. He remembered how he had willed himself to get away from his cousin many times. How he willed the book in his hand. The intent was after all the most important aspect of magic.

He willed the book to levitate. And the book rose up in the air.

"My wand feels off." He concluded. "It has been resisting me. And when I used Hermione's wand, it felt even worse."

Salazar nodded. That's because something in you changed. Your personality or your goal or perhaps even your magic as you got exposed to the two most potent liquids in the world. I recommend that you get a new wand as soon as possible and keep your current wand as a secondary wand. Just go now.

---

12:00 / The Great Lake / Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry / June 3rd 1993

Hedwig's chirp announced its arrival as it expanded its wings and perched nearby him, as he sat on a rock and contemplated the school from afar. Adalonda resting its head on his lap, he outstretched his right hand to caress Hedwig as it affectionately nipped his index finger, all while he caressed the Adalonda with his left hand. "Can I trust Salazar with my secrets?" He asked out to both of his familiars, his own and his Basilisk, no one ever came here outside, and they wouldn't mind giving him privacy. Fearing that Adalonda might grow lonelier with the exuberant and cranky portrait of a certain founder, he took the snake off for a stroll and allowed Hedwig to expand its wings.

"Will I be able to pull it off?" He asked himself pondering on those thoughts, after using the time turner he chose this detour after sneaking in and getting Hedwig. Preferring for his past self to get occupied in the day, he had a few hours before he had to go back to the library and make as if he wasn't gone. Can Dumbledore be blamed for his actions when he was overly cautious due to the Horcrux in his scar? Did Dumbledore even knew of Tom ever making Horcruxes at all?

'He probably didn't, the fact Dumbledore tried to fake his surprise by complimenting Tom speaks of the fact it caught him off guard. He would now get into the job of researching more about Horcruxes. No matter how much it angers me that the Horcrux in my scar stunted my life for all these years.' With sadness on his thoughts, he closed his eyes, sighing afterwards. "I had to sacrifice my years of life, to get a lifetime of happiness and a chance to truly make a difference." He thought out loud with a kind smile as he called out. "Dobby."

The kind house-elf apparated at his front.

"What can dobby do for the Great Harry Potter sir today?" The House-Elf asked at him, he appreciated the House Elf. A member to his ever-tiny family, it was worth going through that hell if it meant he did a good deed at the end of the day, freeing Dobby and giving him a greater motive to live. Binding his magic to him allowed Dobby to survive and thrive once again, and to be revitalized since now he had a master with a greater motive and a selfless truly kind nature. The fact he could see the elf again almost made him break down to tears. 'I won't let that bitch get you Dobby…you'll get to see Teddy, I swear.' He thought with an even firmer determination, ice and ruthlessness against Death Eaters.

'But first, I have to tap into that which I was afraid the most. Attack Voldemort like he never thought I could attack him. Use this ailing disadvantage of housing a piece of his soul to my advantage. Use his own weapon against him.' In the depth of his thoughts, he tried to tap into the shard of Horcrux from Voldemort, as he gasped, and his pupils dilated.

…

…

A loud sudden cry got him back to himself, of course Great Britain's greatest threat wasn't stupid. Whenever Voldemort killed, whether it was one of his enemies or a follower that had failed him, he always looked to take whatever they had that was of any value. On top of that, he regularly demanded "donations" from his loveable Death Eater followers which he stashed away in several different safe houses. And now, his very soul shard of Horcrux had just given him the sweetest knowledge he could ever obtain, Harry knew now as a fact that at least over fifty percent of the Malfoy wealth was sitting in a small cave in Northern Scotland that was under some of the nastiest wards he had ever heard about. The cave of course out of the way and so hard to spot that there was little doubt that anyone would ever come across it. A large portion of the Lestrange and Yaxley fortunes were mixed in as well, along with it from various other Death Eater families.

'Your wealth shall serve me.' He thought sinisterly, it was a sweet deal he wasn't going to just leave to rot. 'How could I've been so foolish to let all those riches to rot in the last life, I don't know.' He thought with a light smirk, yet he focused on a particular memory. There was also a safehouse in Albania that he knew it had to be hit. However, at the moment there was a stash deep in the Forbidden Forest. Nothing that Voldemort owned was in a bank, of course. He knew that just by hitting such cave it would make him wealthy enough to live as a magical millionaire for at least the next ten years. He knew he had a trust fund, however with that he'll be able to survive. With Dobby's aid and focusing on the memory he appeared in a picturesque valley in the Scottish Highlands. Harry quickly caught his footing as he appeared on the side of the mountain. Below him a field of green that ended at the foot of the second mountain. Harry let out a deep breath which created a large cloud of mist. With careful footing, Harry slowly crept a short way away to a cluster of semi-flat boulders. Walking up to the smallest one, which was still the size of a small car, Harry waved his wand and checked for the wards. Sure enough, still active and strong as ever.

"ŞI am Lord VoldemortŞ." Harry hissed in Parseltongue. Almost instantly, Harry felt a buzz on his skin which told him the wards had come down. He then levitated the smallest boulder using Wingardium Leviosa and moved it out of the way. In the rock below, there was a small crevice that was barely big enough to fit a grown man. Again, Harry waved his wand and created a set of stairs that led down into the cave. It was clear that Voldemort used the Chamber of Secrets as Inspiration. As he went down into the darkness, the temperature dropped quickly.

"Lumos." He casted and the light lit up his path as he descended a hundred or so feet into the Earth. When his feet touched the floor of the cave, Harry looked around. Seeing the wall from his memories, he went over there and examined it. High up, he saw a rune. Quickly cutting his finger and rubbing his blood in it, the rune lit up and a section of the wall opened up. Dust fell from the ceiling as the entire room trembled. When the door front began to open up, the dust fell, and the entire room trembled. When the door opened fully and the dust settled, he stepped into the hidden vault. Waving his wand, a ball of light flew from the tip into the ceiling where it stuck, lighting the vault room.

The very large room was nearly floor-to-ceiling stacked with galleons. A giant mound of gold stood before him, turning the white light he produced into a golden hue. Mixed with it were silver sickles and copper knuts. Off to the side were dozens of chests. Going over there and kicking one open. It was loaded with jewelry. Leaning over and grabbing a heavy, ornate necklace, Harry examined it.

"Goblin-made:" Harry pronounced, by his side Dobby kept close guard and ready to defend him just in case. He doubted there was anything else, Voldemort knew or rather was arrogant that nobody with parseltongue would dare to say the very name he caused many to fear. Tossing the jewelry back in. He opened every chest and found that most were filled with jewelry, though a couple was filled with unmounted gems of varying sizes. Artwork, sculptures, ancient suits of armor, everything imaginable filled the secret room. There would never be money problems for Harry Potter, ever.

"ŞThe boy who failedŞ." He hissed with hatred the very words pronounced by Fleur Delacour that day where the Weasley's lynched him, vengeance was vain and superficial. The truth was, that the Weasley family while they were his family showed their true colors and, even in the past life or in this one, the big family's wealth won't ever reach his levels.

"Let us thank Lord Voldemort Dobby." He smiled as the House Elf turned to him as he went to a nearest golden cup from one of the chests and rose it. "For his greatest economical donation." Harry Potter was ever vindictive or evil, but he allowed himself this time to get drunk in his evil intentions and sound inherently evil. For as there is no one he wished the worse than Tom Marvolo Riddle. For he knew the feeling between them both is mutual.

"May it be the first of many."