Another short chapter. Apologies, but I've got much to do. With any luck, the upcoming chapters will be significantly longer.

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The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.


Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate

The Blackest of Nights

XV. A Hole in the Heart

Crimson flecks littered the ground. Harry tensed as rivulets of blood slid from the side of his skull down to his feet. Warm though it was, it was an uncomfortable feeling, like a hot breath trailing down his spine.

Harry chanced a glimpse at the blood. Half a reflection stared back at him. There was a faint green glow in the only eye he could see. It pulsed dimly in the dull light of the Chamber of Secrets, hard to spot beneath the glow of the emerald flames.

It's pretty, I suppose.

"Evanesco."

His blood twisted into the air, vanishing from sight. Harry slowly looked away.

Doesn't matter, though.

"Morsus!"

Deep, jaw-shaped gashes lined the stone wall. Harry fired spell after spell behind it, squinting as dust and debris flooded the chamber. Water flew from the two pools, splashing across the oversized bust of Slytherin far along the chamber floor.

It took a few moments for the dust to clear. When it had, Harry found himself standing opposite a wall nearly blown to bits. If it weren't for magic, Harry was positive the chamber wouldn't exist for much longer.

A long, tired yawn broke free from his lips, echoing across the dark chamber. Harry slowly lowered himself. He eyed the pool in front of him suspiciously.

The Basilisk is probably in here.

At the far end of the chamber, Harry could just barely make out a sharp, green tail. It looked every bit as alive as it had nearly a year prior - aside from moving, of course.

The Basilisk is definitely in here.

"Calorem Focis." Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the water. Steam wafted up from its surface and up towards a ceiling Harry couldn't see. Ignoring it, Harry lowered his feet into the water, sighing gently as the heat wrapped tight around his legs.

"That's better."

Crack.

Harry looked up. The broken chamber wall had finally started moving again; Harry watched as the brick slowly soared back into place. After a few moments, it was as though they had never been damaged at all.

"Took you long enough." snorted Harry, eyeing the stone wall, "I was beginning to think I finally broke you for real."

The stonewall didn't respond. Not that he expected it to.

"I think I like you most, you know." Harry murmured to the darkness, "More than the Room of Requirement or in the Shrieking Shack with Bell -"

The name died on the tip of his tongue. Harry frowned, looking around. The emerald flames of the chamber continued to flicker, dancing in the eyes of the stone serpents that lined the hall.

"You feel more right." Harry decided at last, "More - more real, I suppose. The Room of Requirement's nice, mind you - but it isn't as helpful as I thought it'd be. It - I don't think it really trusts me."

Harry paused, trying to find the right words.

"It doesn't like giving me the sort of spells I ask for." he muttered, "Curses, questionable hexes - that sort of thing. I don't think it's personal. It just - it feels like it's coddling me. Watching over me, trying to shield me from what's out there. What's waiting.

"You don't do that." Harry looked around, "You've got what I need. Exactly what I need. I don't know whether you trust me or not, but . . ."

Harry trailed off, his eyes on the statue at the end of the hall. The grand bust of Salazar Slytherin stared back at him.

"You know." Harry whispered, "It feels like you get it. Like you know I haven't got a choice anymore. It's not that I want to be stronger, I have to be."

Harry stood up, shaking the water from his limbs. He slowly made his way up to the oversized bust, staring up at it.

"Nott would probably say I'm crazy, thinking rooms have got feelings and all." Harry frowned, looking down, "I dunno, though. It feels so . . . so real."

Harry looked up.

"They didn't get it, did they?" Harry asked quietly, "The others? They didn't understand."

Water slid down the bust of Slytherin, trailing down past his eye and to the floor below. Harry stared at it, breathing heavily.

"It isn't about power, or control, or any of that." Harry muttered, "I just want to live. I don't want to die anymore. Not after finally leaving the Dursleys, not now that I finally feel - feel so -"

Alive.

Harry looked up again. The statue sat silently before him, waiting.

"I wonder what your story is." mumbled Harry, "Everyone says you're one of the worst Dark Wizards of all time."

He stared back at the statue, watching as the water slid from its eyes.

Maybe they aren't so right after all.

-(xXx)-

Slam.

Nott looked up from beyond a pair of battered textbooks. He stared at the stack of books Harry had just dumped on the table.

"What's this rubbish?"

"Books." Daphne muttered, sliding into the seat beside Harry. In her arms she held several books of her own, "Not that I'd expect you to know -"

Nott sent Harry a pointed look.

"Advanced Charms." said Harry, drawing his chair. He slowly took a seat, "I'm trying to learn more about the Patronus Charm. Daphne's helping me."

"The Patronus Charm?" Nott frowned, "Grandfather mentioned that once. It isn't exactly the easiest spell in the world."

Harry shrugged.

"It'll be worth the struggle if it means I don't have to worry about any more Dementors."

He spread the stack thin across the table, flipping through several of the more promising books. A series of hand-drawn charts surrounded him.

"It's about happiness." Daphne mumbled after some time, "All of these researchers seem to agree on that."

"A happy memory." Harry agreed, "Just think something happy, and say, 'Expecto Patronum.'"

That sounds deceptively simple.

"It can't possibly be that easy." Nott fiddled with the textbook closest to him, his eyes tracing the drawing of a silvery-blue doe, "Every book I've ever read says they're well beyond N.E.W.T. Level."

"They aren't part of the Hogwarts Syllabus, either." noted Daphne, "It's definitely not that easy."

Harry nodded absentmindedly.

And I haven't got Bella around to help me, either. Not that she could.

The ends of his lips slowly drooped.

Or would.

From his side, Daphne frowned.

"Is everything alright?" she asked slowly, "You seem a bit down lately."

Harry nodded tiredly.

"Fine." he assured her, "Just a bit tired, that's all. I've had a lot to do recently."

Daphne's lips thinned.

"Like?"

"Homework." Harry answered truthfully, "I've been practicing magic a bit too - how to use it, and all that. And I've been helping Hagrid with Buckbeak's case -"

"How's that been going?" asked Nott from across the table.

Harry winced.

"Er - not very well." Harry grimaced, his palms balling into fists beneath the table, "Malfoy's father really isn't letting it go."

"So I've heard." mumbled Nott, "I heard Malfoy laughing about it last week. Slimy git -"

Something flickered. Harry's eyes leapt across the library, landing on something near the very end of the center aisle -

The Restricted Section.

Harry could see some of the books through the gates. A familiar tome of black and gold sat atop the highest shelf, whispering to him as it had so long ago.

'Kill . . . you were supposed to kill . . .'

Harry flinched. He quickly turned away from the book, doing his best to ignore it.

'No matter . . . we'll try again . . . you can try again . . .'

"Can books move on their own?" Harry asked, his voice a bit higher than usual, "Magical ones, I mean?"

It can't have been there last time I saw it.

"Not usually." said Daphne, "But I'm sure there are some out there that can."

"We aren't likely to find one, mind you." added Nott, "Those'll be old, powerful books - not the sort of thing you can just find anywhere."

"You mean you don't have any at your manor?"

Nott snorted.

"I wish I did." said Nott with a sigh, "What I wouldn't give . . ."

"Your library pass, I imagine."

Nott sent a rather rude gesture Daphne's way.

"I'd trade you in a heartbeat, just so you know."

"I'd trade you away for about five sickles -"

"I'd pay someone five sickles to take you away -"

'The diary . . . you didn't kill it, did you? The hole's shrinking . . . just say the right words, and we can unshrink it together -'

Harry tensed. The faded outline of the diary flew before his mind's eye.

It's still healing. It might be fully healed by this time next year.

Harry eyed the book of black and gold, frowning.

"I'll be back in a second." Harry told the other two. Daphne paused, turning away from an irritable Nott. Her fingers combed over his.

"You sure you're alright?" she asked worriedly, "Positive?"

"Positive." Harry fixed a smile on his face, "And if I'm not, you'll be the first to know."

"'- if I'm not, you'll be the first to know -'"

"Shut up." Daphne glared at Nott, her pale cheeks tinged a soft pink. Harry rolled his eyes.

Shadows hid him as he made his way towards the Restricted Section. He pressed his body tight against the leftmost aisle; nobody, not even Nott and Daphne, could see him now.

The black and gold tome sat high upon the shelf, separated from him by bars of wood and steel.

'Didn't purge the soul.' the book muttered to itself, 'It's still in there, hiding . . . you failed.'

"What soul?" Harry muttered, "Who's hiding?"

But the book seemingly ignored him.

'Shouldn't have survived . . . but you failed. Didn't mean it enough . . . and so the soul held on, by a thread . . .'

Harry paled. He edged closer to the gates, his fingers curving around the cold metal.

'Healing, too.' the book whispered, 'Strange. Never happened before -'

The book paused. Harry nearly jumped as it fluttered wildly open before slamming itself shut.

'There's another. Another near it. Feeding it. Healing it. A sister shard, torn from the very same -'

The book sputtered. Harry watched as it slowly turned to him.

'You will lose . . . you are destined to lose, Harry Potter . . . she had made it so . . .'

And with that, the book toppled to the floor, unmoving.

-(xXx)-

Snow seeped through the boarded-up windows of the Shrieking Shack. Harry paced back and forth, lost in thought.

'You will lose . . . you are destined to lose, Harry Potter . . .'

His jaw clenched. Beneath him, the withered floorboards creaked painfully.

You're wrong.

Emerald eyes jumped to his watch. Harry stared at the minute hand, waiting impatiently as it slowly ticked around the circle's center.

It's been five minutes now. She isn't coming.

Harry grimaced. His fingers slowly rose to the hood of his cloak, throwing it over his head -

Crack.

"Four in the morning." whispered a high voice, "I never took you as an early bird, Harry."

"I was wondering if you'd come." Harry turned around, his eyes sliding across Bellatrix's pale features, "I wasn't sure you'd know I was here."

Bella scoffed.

"Of course I'd know." she flashed a wicked smile, "I always know! And, even if I didn't, I've got all sorts of Wards around this place, so I'd find out pretty quickly, wouldn't I?"

The smile slowly left her lips. Bella tucked her hands behind her back, frowning.

"I'm sorry, by the way." she muttered quietly. Harry could barely hear her, "For upsetting you."

"Did Voldemort make you say that?"

"Master isn't the boss of me." she glared, "I can still say and do whatever I please, thank you very much."

Right.

"I don't care much about that at the moment." said Harry truthfully, "I came here to ask you something. Something I can't really ask anyone else."

Bellatrix nodded excitedly, leaning closer.

"Go on."

"The Killing Curse," Harry started, ignoring the sinister curve of Bellatrix's lips, "What happens when you cast it improperly?"

"Nothing." said Bella simply, "Just a flash of green light, and nothing more. They just don't die, that's all."

Harry paused. Thoughts welled up on the tip of his tongue, and he gambled them away before he could stop himself.

"And the diary? What happened there?"

Bella frowned.

"You killed it. You succeeded, you - you -"

She stared at him, her mouth wide open.

"You must've really meant it, then." Bellatrix blinked uncertainly, "But you can't have. You - you didn't mean it, did you?"

Harry stared at her.

She doesn't know it's healing. She thinks I really managed to kill it.

"What happens if you aren't sure?" asked Harry uncertainly, "What if you don't know if you mean it or not."

"There isn't such a thing." Bella's frown deepened, "You either mean it, or you don't. They either die, or they don't. Nothing in between."

"That isn't true." Harry frowned, "Voldemort meant it, all those years ago."

And yet I'm still standing.

Bellatrix slowly nodded to herself.

"Yes, I suppose that's it." she whispered, "You're different. Special, like her -"

Harry snorted, his eyebrows creasing together.

"Is that so?"

Bella nodded.

"Special to me." she mumbled, "Just like she is."

Harry's expression softened. He gently fiddled with the fastening of his cloak, tossing it around his shoulders before heading towards the door.

"That's all?" asked Bellatrix indignantly, "I'm here at four in the morning, and that's all you've got?"

Harry laughed.

"I had to be sure of something." he explained vaguely, "For what it's worth, I'm grateful."

"Good." Bella huffed, "You should be."

She straightened up, tossing the hood of her robes over her head again.

"Time to go." she yawned, raising her arms to shoulder level, "It's been fun, Harrykins, but duty calls -"

"I'll be back." Harry sputtered. Bellatrix paused, turning to him, "I mean - I'll visit the Shrieking Shack more often. In case you're around, or anything."

Bella snickered. Long, thin fingers reached towards his cheeks, pinching them cheerfully.

"See you soon, ickle Harry -"

Crack.

Her fingers let go, and she twisted on the spot, vanishing from sight. Harry sighed, staring at where she had just stood.

And back to Hogwarts we go.

He clambered down the steps, heading towards the base of the Shrieking Shack. The wooden planks that surrounded him were slowly overrun with bits of dirt and soil. Harry examined the roots that lined the walls.

They've got nothing on the Whomping Willow.

Time slowly ticked past. After what felt like an hour, the earthen steps began raising upwards once more. Harry raced along the path, coming to a stop when he reached the base of the Whomping Willow. There was a small opening here, through which he could just barely make out the light moon.

"Nevermind that now." Harry muttered to himself, "I'd better hurry up."

The last thing I need is for Snape to catch me out of bed.

His fingers fiddled along the inside of his robes, pulling on a silvery cloak. Harry threw the invisibility cloak over himself, slowly climbing out of the Whomping Willow. He took in a long, deep breath, waiting in silence for something to happen.

Nothing did. The Whomping Willow swayed beneath the light of the moon, unbothered by all.

Harry straightened up. His eyes edged up towards the moon, examining it carefully.

Almost a full moon. Pretty, too.

"It'll be one tomorrow." Harry remembered aloud, "Professor Sinistra's having us observe it all night tomorrow."

He groaned in disappointment, slowly edging back towards the castle. Out in the distance, he could see the faint outlines of the dementors. They hovered over the Quidditch Pitch, a trail of ice and sorrow following in their wake. Harry shivered despite himself.

He found himself back in his dormitory about ten minutes later. Silver and green silk stretched across the length of his four posters, covering him snugly. Harry sank further into his bed, his eyes latched to the oversized window on his left. He watched as a family of grindylows scurried past, deep within the Great Lake.

Something pressed against his mind like an itch. Harry leaned across his bed, an outstretched hand reaching towards the leftmost bedside table. His fingers curled around the knob, and he pulled the drawer open, gazing inside.

The drawer was almost empty. Only a diary and a notebook sat within, a large, gaping hole adorning the former. Harry plucked it tightly, sliding the drawer shut with his pinky.

Emily's diary felt warm in his grasp. The hole in its center seemed smaller than ever - perhaps no bigger than a galleon now. Harry stared at it, tapping his fingers along its edge.

I should take it to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do.

Harry fiddled with the diary again. He gently cracked it open, his eyes sliding from one yellowing page to the next. A slight frown marred his features.

She wouldn't like that, though. She'd really have a reason to kill me then.

"She might not want to kill me anymore." Harry muttered thoughtfully, "She could've gotten Bella to do it anytime -"

We're neutral, then. For now.

Harry sighed, tucking the diary away.

"I suppose you're staying, then." he mumbled, "I can't risk her coming after me. Not yet."

Not until I'm ready.

The diary slipped from his fingers, sinking beside the sheets of ice deep within the Great Lake.