Another chapter arrives, and though it was a bit short before editing, I'm now pleased with it. As I'm sure you'll have figured by the end of the chapter, we are reaching the very end of the second year. Only three chapters left . . .

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Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.

The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.


Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate

The Riddle's Plight

XIV. The Killing Curse

Pitch black robes fell past ties patterned silver and green. A bespectacled boy with emerald eyes ran a finger down the hem of his, waiting in silence with the others.

It was the last week of May. The last few weeks had flown by in the blink of an eye, and barely a month of school remained. It hadn't been perfect, the last year - far from it - but Harry still felt sick to his stomach as June drew nearer.

Anything beats the Dursleys.

Harry twitched.

"Less than a month away." he whispered, grimacing, "Less than a month -"

Thud.

The classroom door loudly slammed behind them. Harry watched as Professor Snape strode towards the front of the classroom, his cloak billowing in the wind that wasn't there. He stopped just before the blackboard, and when he looked at them all, his gaze seemed dull and hollow.

"As I'm sure many of you have gathered," he began, his lips curling, "Hogwarts will be closing in a month's time for the summer holiday."

Snape spun around, plucking a torn piece of parchment from his desk. The Slytherin second years stood with bated breath as he held it up to the light.

"You are also aware, I hope," Snape drawled, "that, as soon-to-be third years, you are all expected to take additional courses this coming school year - electives, if you will."

The second years all nodded, though Snape didn't particularly seem to care. He slowly ran his finger along the edge of the parchment.

"Your potential courses include Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, and the Study of Ancient Runes." he read aloud, tapping the parchment every time he read one of the class names, "You will sit for whichever courses you select until the end of your fifth year at the very least, understood?"

The second years all nodded. From somewhere near the front, Harry heard Malfoy mutter something about Muggle Studies, but if Snape heard, he didn't show it. The hook-nosed Potions Professor replaced the parchment neatly on his desk before returning his attention to them.

"You will select two courses that you would like to take, and only two." said Snape quietly. They all watched as he leaned closer, shuffling nervously, "When it comes time to take your O.W.L.s, you will be allowed to take whichever tests you desire, regardless of whether or not you took the class. I still, however, suggest that you choose wisely - your choices may affect your life both inside and out of the castle. Do I make myself clear?"

The second years all nodded again. Snape straightened up.

"You will hand me a sheet of parchment with your two chosen courses within a week's time." he sneered, his lips thinning, "Assuming the school remains open, they will be the courses you take next year."

With that, Snape waved his wand towards the door, which swung wide open. Harry stared blankly at the Potions Professor, hollow words replaying again and again in his head.

'Assuming the school remains open . . .'

Harry threw his bag over his shoulder, waiting for the rest of the Slytherin second years to slowly depart from the potions classroom.

"Ancient Runes sounds interesting enough." muttered Nott as he, Harry and Daphne made their way out.

"It does." agreed Daphne, "So does Arithmancy."

"The study of numbers?" asked Harry blankly. Daphne turned to him, annoyed.

"It's more than that." she frowned, "The study of magic, and how it works. Magical numbers are just the basics."

"Right." said Nott, scoffing, "I'll take your word for it."

"What'll you take then?" asked Harry curiously, "Divination?"

"No. There isn't much point if you aren't a seer."

"It'd probably be an easy class, though." Harry noted, "You could probably make up whatever you wanted - how would the examiners know the difference?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, but a thoughtful expression curved across Nott's features.

"You're not wrong." he admitted at last, "But it isn't worth missing an actually decent class. I'll probably just take the Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. I can still take the Divination O.W.L. if I want."

He paused, throwing his bag further along his shoulder.

"What about you two?" he asked, straightening up.

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy." said Daphne coolly.

"Same as her, probably." Harry muttered, "But Care of Magical Creatures sounds interesting enough. It's a shame Snape wouldn't let us do more than two -"

A soft, sobering whisper caressed his ears.

It might not matter, though . . . it might not matter at all . . .

Something shifted in his mind, and a large, hairy beast crawled into view. Aragog clicked wildly, his eight milky eyes gleaming like dull jewels. His voice echoed in Harry's skull.

'You're afraid it'll be closed, aren't you . . .'

The beast twitched, and fire consumed its body. Harry watched as its ashes sank into soil of the Forbidden Forest. The dirt curved, and split, and twisted - the trees did too - and suddenly the world around him ripped in two, replaced by an endless sea of ice and jagged rocks.

Cold. So cold -

Black cloaks billowed in the wind. Harry watched as scabbed skin reached out from beneath a tattered sleeve. The creature's hood fell free, and something horrible leaned forward, clawing its way towards a ginormous man with a bushy black beard -

No. Hagrid -

The creature turned to him. Harry felt the breathe leave him as its claws swiped towards him, reaching for what could not be reached -

The world warped once more. He was back again, standing just outside the house he hated so dearly. It was perfect - the driveway was squeaky-clean, the exterior was newly painted, and the insides were all neatly furnished -

The grass was long, though. The bushes were overgrown, and the plates that lined the sink were unwashed.

Someone peaked out from behind the curtains. A plump blonde man with frowned at the front yard, his fingers curling around his mustache.

"No matter." he said, chortling to himself. He tossed the curtain aside, walking further into the house, "Just one month. He'll be cutting that grass in just a month -"

The worlds twisted, blending together now. The Forbidden Forest, and Azkaban, and Number Four, Privet Drive. Aragog, Hagrid, Mr. Dursley. The vilified, the scapegoat and the punisher -

No. It won't close. I won't let it -

They all disappeared. Only a girl sat before him. Harry couldn't quite tell what she looked like. Her eyes were vague, as was her hair, and her skin, and her lips. She was pretty, though.

He watched as her lips curved into a frown.

"Its closed." she whispered, staring up at him, "I'm sorry, Harry, but Hogwarts is closed -"

No. No, no, no -

"Harry?"

Harry looked up. Daphne was stood to his side, her icy blue eyes soft and worried. Harry felt her fingers wrap gently around his hand.

"Is everything alright?" she asked carefully. Harry nodded, though he could tell she didn't believe him.

"Yeah." he paused, taking a deep breath, "Everything's fine."

-(xXx)-

Darkness laid waste to what little light was left, and the dimming torches were finally extinguished. Harry paid it all no mind. He slowly inched forward beneath his Invisibility Cloak, his wand held out. The tip of it was lit a soft, bright white.

Creak.

Harry slowly edged the library door open. The vast room was eerily silent; countless shelves all cast strange shadows upon the floor, visible only thanks to the light of his wand. Harry shut the door behind him, quietly making his way deeper into the library.

Strange noises lurked in the background. There was a soft pattering to his left, and low, heavy growls from his right. Soft whispers seemed to come from before him. Harry stiffened, raising his wand higher as he edged closer.

The Restricted Section was a strange place, Harry had long ago decided. There were books of all sorts - ones that only opened if you screamed at them, ones that screamed at you if you opened them, and so on.

They usually knock it off if you bend one of their pages. They don't like that very much.

Still, some of them had a bit of a rebellious streak. Once, Harry had nearly ripped a book in two before it had stopped shouting.

It's a miracle Madam Pince hasn't caught me yet.

The dark metal gates of the section stood tall before Harry, who came to a stop. He held out his wand in vain, knowing what would happen before it did.

Alohomora.

The iron gates remained shut. A few months ago, they would have opened - but Hogwarts was changing, and the castle had never before been so guarded.

Harry closed his eyes, running a finger against the surface of the gate. It was cold; the strange metallic feeling felt oddly protective - just not to him. To him, it felt harsh and violent, cool and unyielding -

Harry raised his wand, his hand still on the gate. He pressed the tip to the cold metal.

I need you to open . . .

There was a soft click, and the metal gates slowly swung open. Harry frowned.

That isn't how nonverbal magic works, is it?

He stepped into the aisle, pulling the Invisibility Cloak off.

"Nonverbal means not saying the incantation." Harry paused, staring at the gate, "You've still got to think it -"

Do you?

He certainly hadn't. Not for a while now, not for months.

But why?

"Later." Harry tore his gaze from the metal, turning around, "That isn't why you're here. You can worry about it later."

The Restricted Section stretched on before him, the shelves all dark and gloomy. Aside from his wand, there was no light here.

Why would there be? No one's supposed to be here without permission, anyway.

Yet here he was. Harry grimaced, his eyes sliding from one book to the next.

All it takes is one more attack . . . just one more, that's all it takes -

It hadn't been said. Not by McGonagall, or Snape, or Minister Fudge or Madam Bones. It wouldn't have changed anything if it had been. It was already true, even if no one seemed willing to acknowledge it -

No more attacks. Not one.

Harry felt his heart beat faster. He took a slow, steady breath.

I'll stop them. I'll find a way.

The shadows stretched on for ages. After what felt like forever, Harry came to a halt. He glanced into the long, dark aisle, his wand held aloft. The shadows slowly receded into the darkness, and Harry read the titles of countless books, each scrawled in old, aged writing. His lips parted as he read their names aloud.

"'Monsters Moste Vile', 'Creatures that Kill', 'Sacred Beasts of the Seventh Century' -"

A sharp scream rang through the aisle as the final book shot out from the shelf, falling sprawled open upon the floor. Harry jumped, slashing his wand at it wildly.

Shut up, shut up!

The book fell limp. Harry quickly threw his Invisibility Cloak back over him. He waited in silence for something, anything -

No one came.

Harry leaned down, angrily shoving the book back into its place on the shelf. He was absolutely certain that the book swore under its breath, but it seemingly knew better than to do anything more.

The Restricted Section was louder now. The books all whispered amongst one another, and soft, irritated groans rang through the many aisles.

"Here . . . come here . . ."

Harry's head shot up. He held his wand out, the light at the tip shining brighter than before.

"I have what you seek . . ." whispered the voice quietly, "I have what you want . . . what you need . . ."

Hidden beneath the cloak, Harry inched closer. He slowly left the aisle of monsters, making his way towards the smooth, soft voice.

"It's here . . . all here . . . you already need it . . . you just have to want it, too . . . you've got to mean it . . ."

Harry stood at the center of that furthest aisle. The books were . . . strange. They felt odd, peculiar and different, but so powerful. Harry glanced at the whispering book on the shelf's topmost row. It was mostly black, though the peeling text was written in an elegant gold.

"It's all here . . ." the book whispered, "The answers you seek . . . the monster you wish to be rid of . . . the answer is here . . ."

Harry froze. He watched as the book leaned forward, falling from the shelf and onto the desk. It was sprawled open, waiting in silence for Harry to approach it. He did.

Upon the pages was a single triangle, one drawn from aged black ink. At each corner of the triangle, the ink slowly began to fade. Where the vertices should have been sat strange incantations instead. There was a small passage scrawled within the center of the triangle, written in elegant writing.

'The Mind, The Muscle, The Soul - Control, Suffering, and Death. Curses borne from nothing more than desire and will, as all powerful magics are.'

Harry shivered as he lowered a finger to the book's surface. His eyes slowly traced the triangle, taking in the three incantations the book provided.

"Imperio . . ." the book whispered almost seductively, "Crucio . . ."

"'Avada Kedavra.'" finished Harry, horrified.

The book fell silent. Harry stared at the yellowing pages, his eyes glued to the incantation written at the very top of the triangle.

Aragog slowly loomed into view. So did Hagrid, and the Dementors of Azkaban. Hogwarts slowly crumbled before his very eyes, and Number four, Privet Drive slowly loomed into view -

"No." snarled Harry, slamming the book shut, "I won't."

The book shook from side to side, but the voice from within said nothing. It slowly rose into the air, eventually sliding itself back into its spot upon the shelf. Harry glared at its spine, his palms balled into tight fists.

"And why not, Harry?"

Scarlet eyes loomed from within the darkness. Accompanied by perfect features, a pale face smiled coldly as its hand slashed through the air. Bright green light shot from the tip of the woman's wand, swirling through the air like molten rocks -

No. I'm not her. I'm nothing like her.

Harry silently departed from the aisle, lost in thought.

-(xXx)-

"It's May 27th, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"The school year ends in less than a month."

It did indeed.

Harry sat alone in his dormitory, his back against the backboard of his four-poster. He stared out his window and into the eerie green Great Lake, greedily taking in every part of it. It might soon be the last time he would see it in quite some time.

"And the monster?" asked Emily curiously, "Have you had any progress?"

Harry slowly raised his quill to the diary.

"No." he admitted, "No, I haven't."

There had been nothing of use in the library, nor in his textbooks, nor anywhere else. Harry could all but feel his grasp on the castle lessen as Number four, Privet Drive slowly pulled him closer and closer.

"I'll be with you, you know." wrote Emily, "By your side, just like I have been for so long. That's what friends are for."

Harry smiled despite himself. He leaned closer, his eyes just barely wet.

"I know you will." he promised, "It means a lot to me. Everything you've done for me means a lot to me."

"You were the one who actually accomplished everything."

"Thanks to you." Harry smiled weakly, "I didn't do much in Occlumency or Legilimency - I can't, not without a physical teacher - but if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have learnt anything. And if you hadn't somehow known everything you do about Parseltongue, I don't know who could've helped me there."

Harry felt a soft, pleasant feeling on his forehead. He raised a finger, tracing the outline of his scar. He returned his eyes to the diary, though the pleasant feeling remained.

"I wouldn't have had it any other way."

-(xXx)-

"Settle down, now!" called Professor McGonagall from the front of the hall, "Quickly, please!"

The Great Hall was filled to the brim with students, something that didn't happen often on a Monday morning. But, for whatever reason, their first few classes of the day had been canceled, and so here they were.

The hall slowly quieted. The students all watched with baited breath as Professor McGonagall began to speak.

"I am pleased to tell you all that Professor Sprout's Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last." she said to a stunned hall, "By the end of the week, we will be able to revive all of those that have been Petrified. It is our hope that one of them may well be able to tell us who - or what - attacked them."

The Great Hall erupted as one. Cheers of joy rang through the hall, and many rose to their feet, clapping along with countless others. Harry sighed with relief, smiling happily as the hall slowly quieted down. The smile slowly vanished as a cruel, quiet voice whispered words within his mind.

But the monster's still there . . . people can still get attacked . . . Hogwarts can still close . . .

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"However," Professor McGonagall continued as the hall finally fell silent, "I expect you will all continue preparing for your exams, as they have not been canceled -"

Groans rang through the hall, but Professor McGonagall continued onward.

"- nor are they likely to be." she finished curtly, "It is my hope that you take them very seriously, and do your very best - with the Heir of Slytherin's supposed monster still at large, there is a great possibility that these tests will be the last you take for quite some time."

Harry froze. The irritated shouts and the angered groans died down as a sobering silence settled into the hall. Professor McGonagall stepped down from the lectern, and quiet, whispered conversations slowly broke out within the hall.

"There isn't that high of a chance the school will close." said Daphne, her eyes on Harry's unmoving form, "The likelihood of one of those Petrified recognising their attacker is pretty high."

"I don't know." frowned Nott, "Imagine it's something really powerful. We wouldn't be able to do much then, would we?"

Daphne said nothing. Her eyes had not left Harry, nor did they leave him as she gently placed her hand on top of his.

"It won't close." she whispered quietly, "I'm sure it won't. You'll be back by the end of the summer."

Harry nodded blankly. The three Dursleys slowly loomed into view, as did the neat, well-kept house that was Number four, Privet Drive.

"Just a few months, Harry." whispered Daphne, "Not a second longer."

The blackened book from the library fluttered through his mind, ancient incantations on the tip of his tongue -

I won't. If that's the price, I won't pay it.

He paused, his fingers curling uncertainly.

I can't pay it.

Harry turned back to his breakfast, eating in silence.

-(xXx)-

Clouds coloured a pure white lined the sky, not a drop of blue in sight. The Hogwarts Grounds were still wet from the rain that had fallen just last night. Harry sat by the Great Lake with Daphne and Nott, watching as the Whomping Willow twisted and turned in the distance.

I wonder why it's here.

Nott set down a long, feathered quill, lifting a thin sheet of parchment up to his eyes.

"I'm finished." he said cheerfully, "I'll hand it in to Professor Snape tomorrow."

"What did you pick?" asked Harry curiously.

"Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Should be interesting enough."

Daphne glanced up, her eyes wandering away from the calm lake surface.

"You're actually taking Care of Magical Creatures?" she asked tiredly, her eyes half-closed.

Nott shrugged. He folded the parchment, pocketing it before picking up the book that sat off to his side. Daphne turned to Harry, a question on the tip of her tongue.

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy." answered Harry, "Same as you, if we actually come back."

Daphne slowly nodded, smiling weakly at Harry. She gently tapped her fingers upon his, returning her gaze to the Great Lake again.

"Why Arithmancy?" asked Nott exasperatedly, "Care of Magical Creatures would actually be interesting."

"Not anytime soon." argued Harry, "You won't see anything more interesting than a bowtruckle until you've completed your O.W.L.s."

"There's bound to be something good before then." said Nott, pausing, "It'll be easy, too - no homework."

Daphne rolled her eyes, yawning softly before she spoke.

"You'll just spend the time you get from not having homework in the library."

"And?"

"And if you wanted an easy subject, you could have gone with Divination." she ran a finger through her braided blonde hair, "From what I've heard, you and Trelawney would get along quite well."

Nott narrowed his eyes at Daphne before turning to Harry.

"That isn't a good thing, is it? I've never met her." he added, seeing the look Harry gave him, "I wouldn't know."

Harry thought back to the strange bespectacled woman that had spoken of him at Christmas. The one who had spoken of dragons, and dementors, and so much more.

"She's off her rocker." Harry decided aloud.

"Brilliant." Nott muttered, glaring at Daphne. The blonde-haired girl paid him no attention, her eyes upon the lake's surface yet again.

"But nevermind her." Nott nodded at Daphne as though she were something vile, "Why Arithmancy?"

"Why would I have chosen Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry asked.

Nott shrugged.

"You'd probably be good at it." he decided, "Being a Parselmouth would only add to that, I think."

Harry smiled in spite of himself. Taking out his wand, he slashed it through the air.

"Serpensortia."

A long, leafy brown snake shot from the tip of his wand, falling upon the earthen surface with a loud thump.

"Can you hear me?" Harry hissed.

The snake turned, slowly nodding its head as its tongue flickered.

"Yes, Master . . ."

Harry frowned, slashing his wand across his chest again.

"Vipera Evanesca."

The serpent wilted, slowly withering away into nothingness. Harry stared at the matted grass that the snake had just sat upon. He felt an uncomfortable feeling slowly settle in his stomach.

'Master . . .'

Harry slowly crooked his neck, his head tilted to the side. A frown still marred his features.

"How'd you learn it so fast?"

Harry looked up, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Nott, staring at the barren patch of earth with curiosity, "How'd you get the hang of it so quickly? It's not like there are any Parselmouths around to teach you."

Harry shrugged.

"I just . . . did, I guess." he said weakly, "It's just a language, isn't it?"

Nott shrugged, lowering his head to the book that sat within his lap. Harry felt the pressure on his hand slowly strengthen. Turning to the right, he saw that Daphne had turned back to him. Her eyes were narrowed, and her fingers had stopped tapping against his.

"So you somehow learnt Parseltongue on your own?" she asked blankly.

"Parseltongue doesn't work like that." explained Harry simply, "It's a magical language, it doesn't need to be learnt -"

"And how do you know that?"

Harry open his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

I know it because Emily told me.

He couldn't say that, though. Neither of them would believe it -

Then what? There probably aren't any books about Parseltongue on the damn planet, forget the Hogwarts Library.

His fingers wrapped around the dirt, pulling strands of grass from the soil.

However Emily learnt it, then.

Harry paused again, his eyebrows scrunched tightly together.

How did she know?

Harry pushed himself from the ground. He was barely aware of the voices that called his name. A faint memory replayed itself in his mind - words he'd read on an old leather diary many months ago -

". . . The secrets of Parseltongue can only - and will only - ever be understood by those who speak it . . ."

She had said it herself. That was how she had known so much, that had to be why -

"A Parselmouth." Harry frowned, testing the words on his tongue, "Emily's a Parselmouth."

But why didn't she tell me?

Harry wouldn't have cared. How could he, when he was one himself?

A small, stinging sensation poked at his heart, but he brushed it aside.

I'll ask her myself. She can tell me.

Harry stepped back into the castle, making his way down into the dungeons and back towards the Slytherin common room. The Slytherin Portrait swung open as he whispered the password, and Harry continued onward. He could feel the blood swirling within his veins, somehow cold as ice and hot as fire at the same time.

Suddenly, the coldness took over. Harry stared at the open door of his dormitory in horror. He slowly raised his wand, his hand shaking slightly.

His room was just as it always was. The silver and green sheets were neatly tucked, the bed curtains were pulled back, and an eerie green light still shone from the window of the Great Lake. But a drawer - the one that sat just by Harry's bed - was wide open.

And, to Harry's horror, it was empty.