A second chapter in one day, because I felt kind of bad. Enjoy.
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The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Blackest of Nights
XIII. The Girl of the Diary
Deep green currents swirled just behind his window. Harry watched as large chunks of silvery ice sank further through the water, edging closer to the lakebed below.
Slytherin colors. Salazar must've chosen this part of the castle on purpose.
He pulled his gaze from the window, his eyes sliding across the dormitory. It was very messy; his Hogwarts robes were sprawled about, and his textbooks littered the floors. Across the room, his trunk lay shoved beneath his four-poster bed, upended.
House-elves probably see this in their nightmares.
Harry groaned. He slowly rose to his feet, slumping over to the bed.
"They usually clean all this stuff up." he mumbled to himself.
Maybe they take Christmas off. Or they're too busy preparing for the feast.
"That's probably it." Harry pulled his trunk out from under the bed, lifting it carefully, "And they've got to deal with Peeves, too."
The insides of his trunk stared up at him. The leather seemed to be peeling by now; the corners were slightly tattered, and there were thin gashes running along the length of the case. In the bottom sat a messy pile of clothes, and a few textbooks were shoved further below.
Harry gazed around the room. His eyes traced over his robes, then the books, and the tie that sat wrapped around his chair.
Right.
His fingers curved slightly. Harry slid the palm of his hand towards him, flipping it over.
Into the trunk. Folded and neat. Now.
His belongings soared through the air. Harry flinched as his textbooks slammed loudly against one another. His pants fell in on themselves - as did his shirt and tie - and together, they all fell neatly into the confines of his trunk.
Harry smiled.
"Brilliant."
Something flew past his ear. A small, tattered diary pressed gently against a notebook made of leather. Harry traced the hole in the center of the diary, frowning.
The hole's smaller. It's getting smaller.
He pulled his finger away from it. His heart ran loudly in his chest and ears, crashing together like cymbals and drums -
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
"Forget it." Harry forced his gaze away, taking a deep breath, "It isn't important."
Behind the diary, Emily's notebook sat impatiently. Harry ignored it too, slamming the trunk shut.
"You're not important either." he turned around, checking himself in the mirror, "I've read you from cover to cover."
You didn't understand it, though. Not everything.
Harry grit his teeth.
"I understood enough."
He slid a digit along the hem of his robes, watching as the creases that lined them faded away. His fingers reached for his tie.
"Hurry up, will you?"
Nott's voice rang from the hallway outside. Harry rolled his eyes, quickly wrapping the tie around his neck with a faint flick of his wrist.
"Coming - ouch!"
Harry pulled at his tie, loosening it as quickly as he could. He was still gasping for air when his door swung open. Nott stared at him, chuckling to himself.
"You know what Daphne would say right about now?" he asked, yawning as he fell upon Harry's bed.
"Not everything needs to be done with magic." Harry groaned, massaging his neck, "I know, I know."
The light through the window slowly began to lessen. After what felt like ages, Harry and Nott made their way out the portrait hole and up through the dungeons. Even from here they could smell the turkeys that sat within the Great Hall, waiting for them.
"Is this what you normally do during Christmas, then?" asked Nott as they passed the potions corridor, "Just lounge about the castle, and show up whenever it's time to eat?"
"More or less." Harry nodded, "There's the Christmas feast, too - that's the one we're heading to right now. It's usually pretty interesting -"
His feet suddenly fell to a stop. Nott looked back at him, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"What?"
"The feast." Harry murmured, his jaw going slack, "Trelawney - last year, during the feast, she made all sorts of predictions -"
"I bet they were absolutely batty." said Nott, smirking.
Harry shook his head.
"They weren't." he paused, thinking hard to himself, "She mentioned something about dementors - a hundred of them, I think - and she said something about a dragon, too."
Nott frowned.
"You mean like Norbert?" he asked uncertainly, "She could've just found out about him from Hagrid -"
"No, not Norbert. She said something different. Something about the dragon attacking me."
Nott grimaced.
"It's possible she just got lucky with the dementors," he mumbled.
"But unlikely." noted Harry.
She's the Divination Professor. That isn't a coincidence, even if she is supposed to be a fraud.
"Put it this way." Nott swayed from side to side, his fingers in the pockets of his robes, "You'd better hope it's a coincidence, because if I have to bet between you and a dragon, my life savings are going to Norbert's cousin over here -"
"Forget the dragon." Harry murmured, "There's the dementors, too."
And at this rate, they're more likely to finish me off.
"There might be something good about it, though." said Nott, perking up, "You must not have much of a problem with the dementors, because you've got to be alive to deal with the dragon."
"I don't think that's how divination works." said Harry, frowning.
Nott shrugged.
"You can ask her during the feast, can't you?" The two of them quickly made their way down the corridor, "Or is she not here for break this year?"
"She probably is. Most of the teachers stay behind."
The Great Hall slowly loomed into view. Harry straightened the ends of his robes before fixing his tie.
"Speaking of staying over break." he began, "I just remembered. You never told me why you stayed back."
Nott frowned, his lips sliding into a thin line.
"Dad." he muttered darkly, "I don't want to be around him any more than I've got too. He's - he's a bit of a git."
Harry nodded. The faint outline of a plump man with short, greying hair slid into view, accompanied by a bony woman and a monstrously large blonde boy with beady blue eyes.
Hogwarts is better. It's home.
"What about your mum?" he asked uncertainly, "Or your grandfather?"
"Grandfather is busy with something." Nott whispered, "I think he's researching something, but I'm not really sure. And mum . . . I don't know her as well as I do grandfather."
He frowned to himself. Harry watched as his shoes dragged against the old tiles.
"I'm sure she's getting on just fine." Nott murmured eventually, "Besides, I'll see her over Spring Break, won't I?"
Harry nodded slowly.
The Great Hall was decorated from top to bottom. Twelve large Christmas trees lined the room, decked in all sorts of strange ornaments. Magical snow covered the floor, sparkling a pure white. The sky above them was of a similar colour; it shone through the enchanted ceiling, dropping mounds of snow from the heavens above.
"Come, come!" welcomed Dumbledore, waving his hands cheerfully. This year he was bedecked in brilliant green robes. He looked very much like a Christmas tree himself, "I believe that is the last of us. Find a seat, wherever you would like!"
There weren't many choices left. Aside from the Professors, only Luna Lovegood had stayed behind. Harry sat beside her, smiling back as the younger blonde girl beamed at him.
Turkeys lined the long table, and glasses filled with eggnog accompanied each and every plate. Harry reached towards the platters in the center, adding more food to his plate. It was all very delicious.
Harry looked to his left. Nott was fingering the food on his plate with the end of his fork. Harry frowned as Nott slid a thin cut of turkey in circles around a small mound of mashed potatoes. A faint scratching sound reached his ears, like finger being dragged along a chalkboard -
Like Bella's laugh.
To his other side, Luna was rambling on about something to Professor Flitwick, who looked positively bemused.
"Ms. Lovegood," he squeaked uncertainly, just barely poking out over the table's surface, "I'm sure the Defence Classroom is not suffering from a wrackspurt outbreak -"
"But it is!" Luna nodded very seriously, "It's been infested for ages. Ever since Lockhart taught last year."
Harry perked up.
"What do they do, wrackspurts?" he asked curiously.
"They're these invisible creatures." explained Luna, "They float into your head through your ears, and they make it hard to think."
Beside him, Nott snorted into his plate.
"No wonder Lockhart didn't teach us a damn thing."
Harry laughed.
After nearly an hour, the plates finally cleared, only to be replaced by ones filled with sweets of all sorts. There were Treacle Tarts, Pumpkin Pasty, Cauldron Cakes and all sorts of other homemade wizarding sweets Harry hadn't ever seen before. He piled a number of them onto his plate.
"Now then," began Dumbledore from the center of the table, "How has this school year treated the three of you?"
His eyes twinkled in Harry, Nott, and Luna's directions. The younger blonde girl spoke first.
"It's been very good." she said dreamily, "But I don't like that I have to wait until third year to take electives. That doesn't seem very fair."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"Have any electives caught your eye?" he asked kindly, "Care of Magical Creatures, I imagine?"
Luna nodded.
"And Divination, too."
Harry's eyes slid across the table, falling upon one Professor Trelawney. The woman was nodding sagely to herself, her fingers curling around the bangles on her wrists. To her right, Professor McGonagall's lips straightened to a thin line, and she shook her head disapprovingly.
"An excellent choice, my dear." she said, her voice soft yet heavy, "Though many do not possess the inner eye, those of us who do may glimpse fantastical things -"
"Divination is both a very imprecise and unusual art form, Ms. Lovegood." interrupted McGonagall curtly, "Anyone but a seer would have a hard time making any sense of it at all. Even true seers have a hard time producing anything more than parlour tricks . . ."
She trailed off, watching unimpressed as Trelawney shook her head.
"Yes, Sybil?"
"I assure you, what a true seer can glimpse is far greater than a parlour trick." Professor Trelawney snapped haughtily, "I, for instance, saw something rather peculiar whilst gazing into my crystal ball earlier today -"
"Yes, and do tell us what that was -"
"The sky." she stared at them all as though waiting for some sort of reaction, "Very cloudy, but the full moon was visible just behind them all."
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips further.
"I think, my dear Sybill," she whispered irritably, "That you may have simply glimpsed the sky's reflection on the surface of your orb -"
"Remus is ill again." Professor Trelawney straightened up, fiddling with her bangles again, "The poor fellow seems to get ill often, doesn't he?"
From along the table, Dumbledore loudly cleared his throat.
"Professor Lupin is, quite unfortunately, rather prone to illness," he said, smiling sadly. His eyes lacked their distinct trademark twinkle, "Thankfully, we have a brilliant Potions Master in-house to help with his recovery."
He gazed down the table, nodding at Snape. The greasy-haired, hooked-nosed Potions Professor frowned as he pushed his empty plate aside
"As for you, dear," Dumbledore turned to Luna, the shine returning to his eyes, "I'm sure you'll do well in whichever subject you choose."
Luna beamed.
-(xXx)-
The archway appeared again, thin ornate lines carved into the smooth stone. Harry watched as a handle formed from the rocks. His fingers wrapped around it, and he pulled the door wide open.
The study within the Chamber of Secrets was just as he'd left it. The same cardboard box sat in the corner, the same silver locket sat on a table to his right, and the long shelf of books stood opposite him. Harry made his way towards the desk near the center, taking a seat. Bespectacled eyes traced the outlines of the many books that sat just before him.
'Frangere, Occidere, Trucidare', 'Nigrum Sanguinem, 'The Grand Grimoire' -
He frowned, pushing the last book aside. He had seen many things upon peeking within the old, withered tome. None of them were things he ever wished to see again.
The second book was coloured a fading bottle green. Harry picked it up, inspecting it carefully.
"Black blood." he lowered it carefully, placing it atop the Grand Grimoire, "Ritualistic Magic."
Not worth it. The sacrifices are too great, and I don't get enough out of them.
It didn't help that the pictures all showed people in great pain, either.
Harry stared at the first and final book. His fingers curved around the corners, and he flipped it open, reading the contents that littered the first few pages.
'A Compendium of Commonly Used Lethal Curses, 882 A.D.
Avada Kedavra - The Killing Curse (see page 4)
Collum Lacrimam - The Neck Ripping Curse (see page 11)
Confingo - The Blasting Curse (see page 11)
Conteram Abintus - The Internal Death Curse (see page 11)
Cor Comprimens - The Heart Crushing Curse (see page 11)
Crucio - The Torture Curse (see page 12)
Expulso - Exploding Curse (see page 16)
Imperio - The Control Curse (see page 19)
Lingua Lacrimam - The Tongue Tearing Curse (see page 27)
Pulmonis Ruptor - The Lung Breaking Curse (see page 32)
Reducto - The Reductor Curse (see page 49)
Vena Secare - The Vein Cutter Curse (see page 54)'
Harry flipped through the pages. The book came to a stop at page fifty-four, and his eyes scanned the paper. Harry swallowed.
Drawn upon the tattered parchment was a diagram of a kneeling man. His skin was swollen and red, and his body was covered in blood. Harry watched as the man's lips screamed soundlessly, twitching as drops of blood slid down to the ends of the pages.
This is way too detailed to just be an artist's depiction.
Harry dropped the book back onto the desk. He forced his eyes to look away from the kneeling man, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
I can't do that. I couldn't, not even if I tried.
A voice, wicked and high, pressed against the sides of his skull. It rang like nails on a chalkboard.
"But you've done it before, haven't you Harry?" Bellatrix's sing-song voice crooned with delight, "Avada Kedavra, that's the Killing Curse. Murder, really - just like breaking them, only it's faster and less fun -"
Harry swallowed. The woman in his ears faded away, replaced by someone far younger.
"I can do it." hazel eyes flickered, staring intensely at him, "I've done it before. I've done it loads of times . . ."
The girl shimmered. Harry's breath caught as she leaned closer, pressing her lips against his forehead. Her skin was soft and cold, her hair smooth and silky.
"I could do it to you, too." she murmured quietly, "I wouldn't, though. Not ever -"
But you could.
The girl smiled knowingly. Harry watched as she faded away, the ghost of her eyes glowing blood red.
And you would.
Harry's fingers wrapped tight around his wand. His eyes slid across the thick sheets of parchment that sat before him, and his hand soared into the air.
"Vena Secare!"
A bright, white light flashed across the room. Harry stared at the long gashes that lined the wall of Slytherin's study. His lips curled in satisfaction.
I could, too.
-(xXx)-
Diffindo.
Magic tore through the ice. Harry directed it with his wand, carving a delicate pattern into the freshly fallen snow of Hogsmeade. He stared at it, his eyes sliding from the crude candles down to the many layers of hand-drawn cake.
"December thirty-first." Harry frowned. His palms curled into fists beside him, "December thirty-first . . ."
Her birthday. Voldemort's.
"Mine, too." murmured the girl with hazel eyes. She tapped her shoes against the snow, her hands on her hips, "Surely you haven't forgotten mine?"
Harry turned to her. The snow she had kicked up remained where it was, unmoving. The voices he heard faded into nothingness, and the girl of the chamber vanished from sight.
And yours.
His fingers curled. Harry stared at where she had been. Something angry wrapped around his heart, something strong, something uncertain, something hateful -
You. It's your fault, it's you -
"You took everything from me." he realised quietly, "Everything."
Mum. Dad. My home, my family, everything -
Colors curved within his skull. Harry saw a house he'd only ever seen in his dreams. A cottage, fitted with cobbled paths that led down to it.
There were people there. So many of them. People he didn't recognize, people he did -
A woman with long, red hair stood amidst them all. She was beautiful. Her eyes were just like his, but they were better, brighter and more perfect. Beside her stood a man who looked like him, but he was better too.
Tufts of raven-black hair met his gaze, and Harry stirred. There was a young boy standing in between Lily and James Potter. A boy with untameable hair, round spectacles, and bright emerald eyes. He looked happy. Happier than Harry had ever felt before.
His fingers curled tighter around his wand.
You took this from me.
"Crucio."
The snow melted. Harry watched blankly as it twisted and churned and curled until none of it remained. Something foul echoed from his wand, running along his arm and all the way back to his heart.
"You really meant that, didn't you?"
Harry turned. Bellatrix slowly made her way towards him, staring at where the snow had just been. She frowned.
"I didn't think you'd manage that." she murmured quietly, "Not for a while. You haven't the hate, you just don't seem angry enough."
She bent over, brushing her fingers against the boiling water. Her thumb rose to her lips, and she paused, lost in thought. Slowly she turned to him.
"How'd you manage it, then?" she asked curiously.
Harry didn't answer. A knowing look graced Bella's features.
"Master." she nodded to herself, looking away, "I suppose that makes sense. She can be a bit mean at times, especially when she goes all grumpy and whatnot. She isn't much fun when she does that.
"She's not like that much, though." Bellatrix promised, "Usually she's interesting -"
"I don't care what she is." Harry snapped angrily. Bella flinched, "She took everything - everything - "
His voice failed him. Harry grasped for words, trying to find what to say.
"I felt so alone." he whispered hoarsely, "I hated it. I hated it more than anything. And she knew that. She used it against me, she lied, she pretended to give a shit -"
He trailed off. Harry closed his eyes, taking slow, heavy breaths.
"She didn't pretend, you know."
Harry turned. Bellatrix was watching him carefully, her hands held tightly in her lap.
"You're wrong."
"Not often." snapped Bella, "And not now, either."
She rose to her feet. Harry stared blankly at her, waiting for her lips to part.
"Why do you think I'm here, itty-bitty Harry? Who do you think asked me to be here, who do you think asked me to train you -"
"She's got a reason." Harry hissed, "A plan. She wants something, like she always does."
Bellatrix frowned.
"She thinks that too, you know." she muttered, "And maybe she's right. Maybe you're both right."
She leaned closer. Harry watched as her breath fogged up before her.
"But there's more than that. Something else, another reason, another explanation -"
"I don't believe you."
"I don't care." she straightened up, her head rising above his own, "It doesn't matter what you think. It doesn't change anything. Not really."
The light around them faded away. Harry looked up, watching as storm clouds rolled above them. Thunder cackled, and the faint sprinkling of rain wept from the heavens. He glanced back at the grown, frowning as he watched the frost that slid across the earthen floor.
Dementors again.
Two of them loomed in the distance. Harry watched as their tattered robes floated through the air, a trail of sadness and despair chasing after them. A cold emptiness pierced at his heart. Beside him, Bellatrix shivered.
"Stupid floaty fucks." she hissed angrily, "Filthy, miserably bits of torn-up blanket -"
"Is there a way to stop them?" Harry asked curiously.
Bella nodded.
"Just one." she muttered, her teeth chattering, "I really should've learnt it. I don't like the cold very much. I don't like the cold at all."
"Why didn't you?" asked Harry, frowning.
"Never needed too. The stupid blankets were on our side back then, there was never a reason to be able to deal with them."
"So learn it now."
"No." Bellatrix snapped, "Takes up too much time.
"And besides," she continued, her eyes gleaming, "That spoils the fun of it, doesn't it?"
Harry snorted.
"Right. Well, I'm not nearly as interested in the 'fun of it' as you are -"
"I noticed."
"- so I wouldn't mind hearing about that spell, if you would."
Bellatrix frowned, staring at the retreating forms of the two dementors. Slowly she pocketed her wand.
"Expecto Patronum." she told him softly, "The Patronus Charm."
The dementors vanished from sight, taking the cold with them.
