AN: Easily the darkest and one of the most triggering chapters in the story. You were warned :)


Chapter 2. Shattering.

A crying girl in his arms, an ink bleeding diary with a fang hanging out of it to his side, and the fang's owner a dead 50ft snake a few yards away; All of this in a chamber that had been thought to be that of myth, not quite legend, nor fact.

If anyone had told Harry that his second year would end with him in that situation, he'd have called them insane, however, starting with a house elf visiting in the summer, with him then being nearly expelled and pulled from the Dursleys by the Weasley twins, the year piled upon him with more incredulity and far more issues. Harry found himself leaning heavily on his natural ability for stealth, to avoid many issues from being accused of being the heir of Slytherin.

Harry had not shown any particular skill or trait that had led others to believe this, but it was Draco Malfoy that had led the condemnation, with the flimsy evidence of Colin Creevey pestering him, causing everyone from the school to ignore his friendship of Hermione Granger to counter the claims.

His other friend now in his arms had avoided him for the better part of the year. Ron had asked Harry to both watch out for and over his little sister, one because she had a debilitating crush on him and the other because she too, had been sorted into Slytherin. He'd ensured her safety where he could but when it came to finding her face down and stone cold in the chamber, it took all of his meagre skillset and more, to get to her.

"-Hic" Ginny sniffled as she pulled back from Harry's chest. "Harry… I…"

"It's okay Ginny." Harry whispered as he ran his hand down the back of her hair one last time. She had broken down when he declared her family would love her no less for having been consumed and used by the Diary. To Ginny, her family had been considerably cold towards her since she was sorted into Slytherin, her mother had not responded to many of her letters, her father's responses were always rather spartan. The only one who'd not become cold towards her had been Ron, Harry suspected it had been due to the fact that Harry was in Slytherin himself and had remained friends with him, tempering his hostility towards the house of Green, creating a more pragmatic attitude within the youngest Weasley boy.

"Let's get out of here." Harry finished, his tone stronger than before as he allowed her to pull herself out of arm's reach and stood, offering a hand for her to use to stand.

She was rather shaky as she accepted, so he kept his grasp firm to ensure she didn't fall. Looking back to her, she had regained some colour in her face, and even appeared to be blushing. "You won't abandon me?" Ginny asked, looking down at the stone floor. It may have been dark, but Harry could see this question was more than a mere anxiousness, it was a real fear. He also thought he caught a glint of violet light within her eyes but brushed it off as a trick of the flickering torches in the fabled chamber.

"Never." Harry said firmly as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Fawkes gave a trill at that moment and alighted to Harry's shoulder. A warmth flooded through him as he observed the Phoenix had caught fire, and that fire was now spreading. The scenery around him shifted, Ginny's hand became a death-grip on his, as they were whisked from the Chamber of Secrets to Professor Dumbledore's office.

A pale looking Snape and Dumbledore looked up, mixtures of shock and awe upon their features as they saw a perfectly healthy, but bloody and dirty, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley appear before them out of the flame.

"I say, rather tremendous." Dumbledore said softly as he looked upon the two healthy students before him. "If I am not mistaken, Mister Potter, you have another rather interesting tale for us?"

Snape looked down upon Harry, his face showing the usual apathy, his eyes however betrayed him as they showed a tenderness shown only for one in the past, a woman long since dead – not that this was knowledge to Harry. "Doing the impossible again, Mister Potter?" Snape asked, lips tight, tone curt, but if one listened carefully enough, there was a tone of light amusement behind it, something Harry picked up on but would never dare acknowledge.

Dumbledore conjured two chairs, but when it seemed Ginny would rather stand than sit alone, he merged the two of them into one wider bench seat. "Your parents will be along momentarily, Miss Weasley, they were in the midst of comforting your brothers with a lack of news, to which I am glad to say we will be able to correct them shortly." Ginny meekly nodded as she took the seat next to Harry.

Harry proceeded to tell the tale he had endured, how he had managed to convince Myrtle to show him where the entrance was, skipping over how he'd opened it with Parseltongue, then telling how he'd defeated the Snake with the plain broadsword that just happened to come out of the sorting hat that Fawkes delivered. It was a bunch of well aligned luck and coincidences that had allowed Harry to save the girl that still held onto his hand tightly, while Snape just watched impassively.

Just as Harry was winding up his tale, the door to the office chimed. "Ah, your parents are here, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore stated as he fiddled with an object on his desk. Something Harry deduced allowed him to view people through the stone Gargoyles eyes and admit them to the room. The door behind Harry and Ginny's chair opened, admitting several redheads, most looking rather despondent as they rounded the chair in their way, absent minded. "Molly, Arthur, might I draw your attention to something?" Dumbledore stated as he pointed towards the chair Harry and Ginny were sitting in.

The twins, Fred and George, were the first to react, Ron along with them. "Gin-Gin?" "Potter?!" "Harry, you got her!?"

They were quickly shoved aside by a now openly sobbing Molly Weasley who scooped Ginny into her arms rather awkwardly, "My baby! I'm so sorry!" The whole time Ginny kept her hand firmly gripping Harry's.

Lucius Malfoy entered at that point, asking for Dumbledore's removal once more, having supposedly acquired the necessary signatories. Harry meanwhile had stealthily managed to get his fingers on Lucius' coat, causing it to drop from his shoulders by way of pulling downward just enough to free the clasp, setting Dobby free, Lucius stopped his tirade in wonder. Ginny merely openly stared at Harry, who smirked and shrugged in response.


Harry lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Once more he'd found himself remitted to the Hospital Wing, in the same bed as the previous 2 times no less. As though it were a running joke, courtesy of Madame Pomfrey. He considered his year and everything leading up to another confrontation with Voldemort in some form. It seemed as if fate itself was working against him, attempting to push him in directions he'd much prefer resist.

No 12-year-old boy would admit to wanting to battle a dangerous snake and 16-year-old version of the previously defeated Dark Lord, however that is where he found himself. Sighing, Harry once again pulled out his status plate. He hoped the battle with the snake would have gifted him with a decent gain in experience, but he resigned to accepting his usual lack of luck in this area.


Harry Potter – Age: 12 – Male – Level: 5

Job: nil

Strength: 10

Vitality: 15

Defence: 15

Agility: 20

Magic: 12

Magical Defence: 12

Skills: Skills Tree Locked.

Affinities: Stealth


Harry was beyond shocked; just hours ago he'd been level 3. As a whole, the year had been almost uneventful, noting something was off, the attacks on muggleborns and the like, he'd barely had time to research the chamber, only finding cursory information and history outlining events surrounding it, then Ginny was declared missing and the writing had been discovered on the wall of the hallway just outside the girls bathroom.

Deciding 2 and 2 did in fact equal 4, Harry entered the bathroom where the writing was and discovered the ghost, asking about her death he discovered that she, Myrtle, was the one who'd died in the past. He then utilised parseltongue to request entry to the passageway, the hidden entrances admitted him to the chamber. Once he spotted Ginny on the floor everything was a blur, although he did remember Fawkes blinding the Basilisk and helping him cut chunks out of the Snake via distraction hit and run techniques, before he attempted to ram the Sword he'd gotten from the sorting hat to the underside of its jaw, which it had opened and he impaled his arm on one of the many fangs.

He'd killed the snake though, so it worked, the added bonus was him living due to Fawkes healing him. Suffice it to say, it was not something he wanted to repeat. Just as he was thinking of how he could do better given the same situation, a rather large sob and a sniffle came from the bed next to his, behind the drawn curtains.

Using his natural stealth, Harry disentangled himself from the tight covers of the Hospital bed, making his way toward the sound that had disturbed his thought patterns. Pushing aside the curtain he saw the pale redhead from the chamber, hair glowing like a dim flame in the moonlight, her eyes screwed shut tightly as she looked to be trying her best not to cry.

Noticing that she hadn't been aware of his approach Harry coughed, to announce his presence; Ginny startled and jumped regardless, her watery eyes flew open as she stared in fear at Harry, before she realised who he was and calmed herself. He swore he saw a flash of violet within her brown eyes once more as he watched the fear ebb from her and sadness return. Ignoring that for the present but not knowing what else to do, Harry made his way closer to her bedside, feeling like he was under intense scrutiny with Ginny watching his every step. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed her hand, letting forth a sigh, he didn't know what to say as he looked up to the ceiling then back to her. "You were right…" He barely heard her whisper.

"About what?"

"Mum, one of the first things she said is that she loved me… a-and I didn't get expelled either…"

"They'd be stupid to blame you. Anyone, would be stupid to blame you... for that." Harry said softly as he kept his eyes on the ceiling, leaning back on his elbows slightly, keeping Ginny's hand firmly ensconced in his.

"Why?... Er… How did you?..."

"Why? Well… I made a promise to look out for you should you need it." Harry shrugged as he looked back down to his status plate, not sure how to or even if he should describe exactly how underpowered he was, how everything he'd done was a sequence of tremendous luck… how underwhelming he was to Ginny. All he could do was use stealth and any tool presented to him, he couldn't cast well, couldn't shield himself or surround himself with fire like some more adept students could… no he was a freak still, just like Vernon had always told him. "As for how…" He struggled while turning the status plate over in his free hand, not having put it away when he'd hopped up to see Ginny. "Well… I suppose it was a small bit of fact gathering and an insane amount of luck." He finished quietly.

"No…" Ginny shook her head slowly, her eyes fixed on his status plate, not that Harry could see exactly where she was looking in the dark, he just assumed. "You've been very secretive, Harry. You appear in places out of no-where, you're quiet… I think you're far more capable than you let on."

"No… definitely not… but thanks for the vote of confidence." Harry sighed with a smirk and shoved the status plate into his pocket before looking up to Ginny's eyes. They were red rimmed from sadness, bloodshot and although sparkly from the unshed tears, looked a little dull, however he didn't see the violet light within that he saw earlier. "You should really get some sleep." He insisted, knowing sleep does help improve one's mental state.

"I can't—"

"I know something about nightmares." Harry looked into Ginny's eyes a moment to see if he couldn't figure out what Ginny wanted. "I'll stay here if you like." Harry nodded to the chair beside her bed.

"Y-you will?"

"If that's what you want." Ginny nodded slowly at Harry, her eyes beginning to fill with wonder. So Harry slid off the bed and took the seat Molly had vacated hours before, the hand of hers still firmly gripped by his as he dragged the chair closer to the bed's edge. "Sleep Ginny, I'll be here."

"Thank you, Harry." Ginny said tiredly as she closed her eyes. "I think I might be… able…"


"Any conspiracy theorist would be led to believe you set these complex situations up yourself, without much help might I add, Albus." Severus Snape said to Albus Dumbledore, as he gently closed the hospital wing door.

"Some may think that Severus, alas that is not the case, or I would have some measure of control over the risks and hazards those two suffered this year." Dumbledore frowned as they made their way to his office once more. Snape merely "hmm'd" Causing Dumbledore to continue. "Have you decided?"

"On?"

"The boy, whom do you believe he is more like?"

"As you have insisted on reminding me several times, he is neither." Snape said while scratching the location his Dark Mark used to be absent mindedly. "In some ways he reminds me of the Dark Lord, cautious and secretive, in others he is like no one I have ever met, and I don't believe anyone has seen his true personality yet."

"Quite right." Dumbledore said with a sigh as they finally reached his office, made their way up the stairs behind the Gargoyle that leapt aside automatically. Dumbledore took his seat and gestured for Snape to do the same on the other side of his desk. "Miss Weasley may have seen some, but truthfully, I do not believe he understands what his true personality is either. He has been wronged much in his youth, I worry he may break - however due to the magical contract I created with Petunia Dursley I cannot interfere, be it save him or keep him from the people that wrong him, else I would have done so already. It is my mistake, my burden to bear and I am searching for a way to rectify this. However, if Harry breaks before I manage to get him away from those… demons… then I fear we will have other worries to tend to."

"A new Dark Lord?" Snape asked, fear etching his features.

"No, perhaps not, Grey even Dark Grey, but I pray it will not be a true darkness." Dumbledore mumbled. "He is showing love to another, that is more than Tom could ever do."

"So, we do nothing?"

"There is nothing we can do." Dumbledore sighed wearily; his frustrations evident, his aged features deepening, making him appear every one of his near 150 years. "On one hand magic has me bound to a single course of action— on the other, he has done nothing but good deeds when they matter the most. He is kind and friendly, caring even."

"I see, the boy is as ever, guilty of nothing then." Snape sighed, "We are guilty of inaction."

"Indeed." Dumbledore sighed again, "I just hope he can survive another few months."

"Why is this so pressing now? He survived an entire childhood."

"Puberty is a big reason, he may very well kill his captors in a fit of magical rage, if my suspicions are correct in their treatment of him." Dumbledore frowned, "But I have seen deterioration like this in children before. When they are rescued from a situation, and returned to it, it has a far greater negative effect on them than it would if they were merely left there, especially if they discover power."

"You have seen… Don't tell me…"

"Alas, it is true, Tom I could have done something about early on, however by the time the Chamber was opened last time, as I described to you, it was far too late. He had already turned and truly blackened." Dumbledore pulled the diary Harry had given him from his desk, "And if I am correct in my assumptions, on that day he created this and that is why he truly cannot die. I must see if he has vanished or created more. The problems are mounting once more Severus, I fear we are again entering dark times."

"Then task me Albus, and I shall see it done."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "There is nothing you can do at present my friend, and for that I am desperately sorry." He said gently. "It would arouse too much suspicion to have you looking for Voldemort or looking into Harry. These are both tasks that are accepted widely I alone check on, on a regular basis. Sit tight for the moment Severus, we shall prevail, if Harry can."


Harry let a small smile show through his mask as he got into the back seat of the car with the Dursleys. Ginny had hugged him, his first hug, not from an adult but one that was done because she said she wanted to. In truth she had hugged him and stayed rather close multiple times since the night in the Hospital wing, where he'd remained by her side, whether it be in his room talking, walking on the grounds or at meals. Then she hugged him again in front of his relatives before they had vacated the train station.

Vernon got into the car and slammed the door; alarm bells began ringing. His mind was resonating, screaming even that there was danger nearby, true danger. Looking up, he saw the back of Vernon's neck practically glowing red, angry eyes watched his every movement in the rear-view mirror as they accelerated rapidly from King's Cross.

It was a wonder Vernon could drive, staring at him so regularly with such hate and rage, weaving through traffic at a pace Harry had never seen him operate a vehicle before. A sniffle came from beside him, Dudley upset. A quick glance at Petunia, pale faced and a pinched expression. 'What on earth is going on?' Harry thought to himself. Unfortunately, he found out all too quickly the meaning of their rage, tight expressions and sadness as the journey ended in their driveway, seeming as though no time had passed.

Fear permeated his being, every fibre of his body began tingling with adrenaline, should he open the door and run? He didn't need a wand, or anything really, he could get to Gringotts, he had money he could replace everything with, the Weasleys liked him enough, there were many options that were not this house of despair.

Unfortunately, Harry's decision was made for him as Vernon opened the door for him, dragged him from his seat by his shirt, up and out of the car through the still clasped seatbelt and shoved him toward the house viciously. As Harry closed upon the door, Vernon grabbed the scruff of his collar, forehead pressed into the back of his as he began talking quietly, venom dripping from his every word. Harry didn't resist, merely wondering what had happened recently to see this fit of rage develop.

"You rubbed that harlot in Dudley's face, you knew he was going steady with that girl from Smelting's, then got dropped." Vernon snarled, quietly as he forced Harry through the front door, heading toward the cupboard under the stairs once more instead of his bedroom.

"I didn't, I swear–" Harry started to panic. 'He's lost it this time.' He thought to himself as he put up no fight, awaiting the right moment to run, 'Something has changed, he's lost it.'

"Lies! Your freakishness told you, it-it told you what happened." Vernon stuttered harshly through his anger, fear racing through Harry's brain. Panic started to drive him as he began to twist and try to move away from where he was being forced. He didn't want to go back to the darkness of the cupboard, it stank, it was hot by day, cold and dark by night. It was his hell. "You freaks are all the same. You interfere with my home, my life, my work." His uncle continued to seethe, rage seeping and overflowing from every pore in his body.

'Someone magical has interfered with his work?' Harry's mind pondered before Vernon's actions took over. 'Unless he means Dobby, but that was nearly a year ago, has he been stewing this whole time?'

Vernon paused for a moment, his grip on Harry's collar slightly loosening but he turned Harry toward him. "Some... some freak like you came to my workplace, causing trouble," he hissed, his face turning even redder as a cold fear ricocheted through Harry again. "They ruined my promotion, the contract… everything, and it's all because of you!"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He had no idea who could have done such a thing, and he certainly hadn't intended for anyone to meddle in the Dursleys' lives. But that knowledge did nothing to appease his uncle's anger. Harry just opened and closed his mouth, fear stopping his voice.

Vernon threw Harry toward the stairs with all his might, Harry's head bounced off the balustrade, causing him to twist awkwardly and try to catch his weight on his outstretched arm, his elbow bent the wrong way and Harry felt a tearing and a pop, it didn't hurt due to the instant shock. He continued to fall, and his face connected with the un-carpeted edge of the third step. The same blackness he knew he would experience locked in the cupboard, the same that he had been hoping to avoid, consumed him as he lost consciousness.


A stifling heat awoke Harry as he gasped out, struggling for breath. His senses slowly came to life, and he realised he couldn't see a thing. The darkness was so complete that he couldn't even make out the outline of his cupboard, the stairs, or shelves above him. He was left with nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the feeling of the hard floor beneath him. The heat was oppressive, causing sweat to roll down his face and neck, but he couldn't wipe it away, as his left arm wouldn't respond to him, it was trapped behind his back.

As Harry attempted to move his arm, he was hit with a searing, white-hot pain that shot through his entire body. It felt like his bones were grinding against each other, and he couldn't stifle the scream of agony that escaped his lips. The pain was all-consuming, making it hard for him to breathe.

Trying to roll to the opposite side to rectify the problem caused a sharp jolt to erupt from his side. Harry gathered that Vernon or perhaps even Dudley had kicked him in the side after he was unconscious, or it was a result of the steps, or it could have been when he'd been thrown into the cupboard. He hated losing consciousness; he never knew what people did to him while he couldn't at least defend himself. It had only happened a few times previously, and each time he woke up in more pain than he should have, but it was enough to cause the fear of the unknown to set in.

Gritting his teeth, Harry sat up and hit his head on the stairs as he couldn't see above him. He subconsciously bit his lip as he let out a stifled scream, the dull throb on his face had become a searing inferno. Bearing it and shuffling around a bit, he managed to get his damaged left arm out from behind him and lay back on the hard concrete floor to avoid any further trauma.

The pain in his left arm had become a dull throb once more, he'd assumed at the best it was a broken bone, at worst the ligaments, tendons and other vital pieces in there had been damaged too. Harry wagered 1 or 2 of his ribs were at least fractured, but his face hurting so badly worried him. Using his good arm, he reached up and gingerly petted it. The scar on his head that bothered him when Voldemort was around seemed to have broken at the base, at his eyebrow, and split further. Probing downward, he found the right side of his face was severely swollen and the split seemed to pick back up under his eye on his cheekbone, trailing down to his jawline. It was bad, he hoped dearly it wasn't infected.

The sensory deprivation of sight and how much pain Harry was in started to make him weary again, so he allowed himself to sleep once more.

The next time Harry awoke to hunger, thirst and the need to use the toilet, however the pain of injury that he'd also awoken to was becoming harsh. His arm throbbed badly, he could no longer move his fingers on his damaged arm, a creeping tingling of pins and needles alarmed him and attempting to move it saw him rewarded with nothing more than excruciating pain. So much so that his brain attempted to black out, however when he flopped back to the hard floor the pain that radiated through his head and ribs awoke him again. The pains of hunger and the discomfort in his bladder were both worsening, each causing significant discomfort individually, adding to his overall trauma.

Harry was trapped.

Trapped in a metaphorical and literal pit of despair, his own personal version of hell, created solely for him by Vernon fucking Dursley.

"Why me." Harry whispered softly into the dark. He was easily the weakest member of his school, all his friends and classmates had skills, jobs and stats, far more than he had. An enormous wave of rage encompassed him at that point, "WHY ME DAMMIT!" he roared into the dark, foul-smelling cupboard that had become his hell on earth.

"Am I dying… please… I just want to die…" Harry whispered hoarsely to himself. Then the thought of death scared Harry, and his brain whispered back to him, "No, I need to survive." Harry's breath quickened, fear of death, fear of life… his rage now dissipating in the fear of his existence in any realm.

He whispered to himself once more, "I just want to die. Please, let the pain end." The pain would start to fade as he lost consciousness again, but then his magic would revive him, and his brain would fight back, louder than before. "No! I need to survive. I want to get out of here. I don't want to die!" The pain came and went in waves, renewing Harry's thirst, hunger, and injury each time.

Each time Harry regained consciousness, the pain would intensify, shortening his tolerance. The whispers between his own thoughts and the opposing voice in his brain became an almost constant battle of wills. "I want to die..." "NO! I want to live." "Please, anything, take me. Kill me. End the pain." "NO! I WILL LIVE!" "Please, no more." "NO! I NEED to survive!"

Harry had no idea how long he lay there. Body wanting to shut down, pain and magic resuscitating it to the point he was in excruciating pain once more. Light never peeked in through the door of the cupboard, making Harry wonder amongst the endless warring with himself, if it had even been one night yet, or if he had been locked in there for days and it was simply blocked from his senses by one means or another.

Time passed slowly, no vision, no sound apart from his own breathing, whispers of his consciousness and brain fighting one another and the occasional loud thump from above the stairs, no real feeling apart from pain and no sustenance causing more pain, however it was the smell that caused Harry the worst damage to himself. The metallic smell of blood, the stale rancid smell of his own excrement, urine and sweat, the salty, filthy smell; mingled with the tang of fear and near death. It was the smell that assaulted him the worst, there was no escaping it as it haunted and taunted him with his every thought.

Harry wasn't aware, but nearly 8 days passed while he was laying there, far beyond the time he should have died with no water. His body in constant pain from hunger, thirst and injury, he wished for death to claim him but feared death and wanted to live. Lying there in his own mess, body broken and weeping, Harry's psyche was being torn apart and re-structured by his will to survive slowly overtaking his wish to die and end the pain, the pain ebbed and flowed, increased and decreased, there was no rhythm or rhyme to its changes in intensity anymore, Harry couldn't understand it.

The horror inflicted upon him by Vernon and his detainment of Harry, was eating away at him. As he lay there, pain coming and going, thoughts flowed through him. Memories of his past, how he allowed himself to care for people, being eaten away at and distorted by the forced removal of his own humanity and empathy. A part of Harry still wanted to die, not deal with this anymore, but that part was slowly being eaten away. "Why do I have to go through this? What did I ever do to deserve this." Harry growled, his throat ripped raw from the screaming over the days, "Tell me what DAMMIT!" His anger at his situation bubbling away. Humanity had betrayed him, allowed the death of his parents, forced his care to be placed in the hands of monsters like Dursley.

"Whatever… I don't care anymore." Harry said softly, the coldness in his voice beginning to chill the air in the cupboard under the stairs. "But I do want out of here."

Eventually a time came, a time where his mind had to make the decision, did he want to survive, or did he want to die. The part that wanted to die was far smaller now than the part that was fighting for survival which made the choice a foregone conclusion, he wanted to survive, survive and not go through anything like he was now ever again, he declared something that became a turning point in his mindset. "I'm going to survive, I'm going to survive and get out of this place. I'll live a life of my own choosing, and anyone who gets in my way is my enemy…" Then he remembered… Quirrell, Tom, the basilisk… "...and I kill my enemies."

A blue light shot through the wall of the cupboard and appeared in front of Harry's eyes, it was small and bright yet no bigger than a knut. "What the…?" Harry thought in a whisper, however the light suddenly coalesced into a panel, a screen of sorts before his eyes. It read:


The Goddess of Magic has seen your struggle and offers her aid.

Your stats, job and skills will be recalculated and restored based on your life experiences thus far, prior to interference.

Your body will be repaired.

Do you accept?

Yes/No


Harry's breathing quickened as he read the panel before him. It was an easy decision to make. "Yes, I accept," his gravelly voice whispered into the dark.

Once his declaration was made, the magic within him made the final shift to his psyche, the last piece to the puzzle to keep his sanity in check, keep his soul intact, a resounding thump seemed to echo within his mind as this last part of him shifted, pain slashed through him, his entire being was now feeling as though it was on fire, bones breaking, shifting and healing beneath his flesh, muscles and tendons tearing and swelling. He couldn't bear this pain quietly, "oh God aaaargh!" he screamed until he blacked out once more.