The Lesser Twin: Chapter 4: Give me your faith, not your doubts.
Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.
AN: Run for cover…sorry for those who loved Dumbledore, Ron & Hermione. I like them too but they have their bad points and it’s fitted my story this way.
Thank you very much hobbitsdoitbetter for beta the story.
Sorry, if there are any mistakes remain, it would be mine.
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Chapter 4: Give me your faith, not your doubts.
Harry Potter had always lived in the shadow of distrust. And ever since he had discovered he spoke Parseltongue his distrust of himself and his new life had increased. Nevertheless, in Hogwarts he had friends who defended him, and whom he trusted. He was happy, and had even recently begun chatting with Anath, losing some of his fear of her. He was bored since Hermione often went off to research and Ron disappeared somewhere else, so Anath was the only one to talk to. And she wasn’t so bad, he thought.
Or at least he did until she made a little bet with him.
“You’re really naïve, little boy,” Anath sneered. “You think they’re doing all this because they care about you, don’t you? Your Ron and Hermione.” And she laughed.
Harry rolled his eyes. “They do care about me. That’s why they watch out for me-”
Anath grinned. It was almost too easy: Soon she would have Harry right where she wanted him. And this time it would be because of the truth, not some manipulation of hers. “So you’re saying they have no ulterior motives?” she inquired innocently. Harry nodded. “And would you be willing to bet on that?” The boy didn’t answer. “Would you?” Still he didn’t respond. “Well that shows how much faith you have in them,” she taunted.
“What? Just because I’m not accepting a stupid bet..?” Harry stamped off. How he hated her condescending tones, like a devil’s advocate. She knew which button to push…
In his head she still didn’t answer, just smiled. Let him stew in his own annoyance. And then-
“Ok, fine!” He yelled. Blushed too when the students nearby snickered at him, though they also looked kind of scared as well. They’d probably heard the stories about him… Only Ron and Hermione didn’t believe the stories…
Did they? DIDN’T THEY? In his head Anath was smiling, playing the innocent…
“Alright,” he finally snapped. “What’s this bet of yours?”
“Good boy!” Anath replied sarcastically before proceeding to tell him what to do.
Harry told everyone quite loudly that he was going to bed early, and not long after he sneaked to the library under his family’s cloak. Harry felt lucky he had not encountered anyone; this was really stupid. Why am I doing this again? Harry questioned himself. His case would be more doubtful if he ended up near the next attack. And he knew the answer to Anath’s question, didn’t he? He berated himself whilst Anath waited silently in the background humming a song. It was not unpleasant but soothing, the notes strange. Harry forgot Anath when he saw his friends though; one had her bushy head down in a book, the other trying to look like he understood what she was reading. He smiled turned around, about to go back-
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I won.” And he tried to sneak back out but he had to stop. He clutched his head; his brain hurt like hell- Anath had found a way to torment him without a backlash from magic. She had control of his body systems functions and now she was punishing him. It seemed magic agreed with her: No matter how much he shouted for help nothing happened. She had gained complete control, and the punishment was causing a bloody migraine.
“You’re a bitch!” Harry almost screamed it aloud but his voice was locked and not a sound came out. “Alright, I get it, I haven’t won yet.” The pain disappeared as quickly as it came. Harry proceeded to the table quietly and stopped within hearing range. Really, he thought, it sucks to eavesdrop. But he still waited silently until-
“Hermione, you’re sure Harry is not the Slytherin Heir?” Ron muttered.
“Positive.” She hadn’t even taken her eyes off the book. “Really Ron! The Headmaster is the most brilliant wizard alive; If he said Harry is not one then he’s not.” Her tone indicated that she did not want any arguments and Harry wondered how long they’d been at this. Ron closed his mouth and didn’t push but it was obvious from his expression that he didn’t agree.
The silence stretched out.
“Ron, you’re not helping.” Her eyebrow lifted, questioning him. “Why are you here anyway? Your job is to be with Harry, guarding him.”
“I said it before, I checked on him before coming down. He’s sleeping.” Ron winced. “I hate to babysit him. Why am I the one to do it?”
“If you wanted to change positions, why don’t you go and talk to the Headmaster? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” Hermione stretched the words, wondering why she was humouring him. But then she never seemed able to help humouring Ron Weasley. The Headmaster had specifically requested they spend time together, actually more like hinted; she could see where this is leading, though, and she would let it run its course. After all, if Dumbledore saw a good union between them, then it was worth considering.
“Fine, you made your point!” Ron sighed. He reached for another book and scanned through it. “But I still say anybody can be wrong,” he muttered under his breath. “Even Albus Dumbledore.”
Harry stiffly walked out of the library; he did not have a particular place to go. He just wanted to get away and forget it all. Harry was not sure what all that had meant, the implication...Though, right now he hated Anath very much.
Well, you’ve always heard that ignorance is bliss, her voice chimed in his head. Now you know it’s true.
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“I can show you if you like...you don’t have to take my word for it.” (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secret p180)...
Harry’s life did not get any better. The latest victim was the Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater. Harry had nowhere to go when he heard the news, the Common Room was unbearable. He left the others and snuck off, unable to believe that the gentle giant, Hagrid, was the culprit. He intuitively knew it, though his instinct would not stop the Minister taking an innocent into custody.
Anath enjoyed her little victory and ignored him after their bet as if biding her time. He still owed her a favour since he’d lost, but she didn’t try to collect. The only time she made any noise was when Riddle showed Harry his memories and she laughed coldly at the background, mocking the young villain. Harry took the whole things as one of those weird Anath moments. Though the doubt did not fall silent along with Anath. She had shown him that she able to read people more easily than he: He had kept himself busy so that he would not get the chance to reflect on the whole situation, but he had to wonder were he, Ron and Hermione still friends? Had they ever really been friends? He felt so hurt.
“Why were you right about them, Anath?” he cried.
Her smile was mocking. “I have lived longer; I have always questioned everyone’s motives.” She shrugged. “You’ll learn soon enough.” And then she smiled, imagining this powerful little boy as her personal puppet. She just had to keep manipulating him… “You’ll learn that even your precious Dumbledore has an agenda when it comes to you.” She left that piece of information for him to chew on.
“What?!” Harry’s eyes widened.
Anath smiled. One step at a time and the boy would belong to her.
Not Dumbledore.
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“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.” (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secret p234)...
Anath gawked at the enormous snake slithering across the Chamber toward them. She had seen many things in her life time but not that bloody monster…The King of Snakes, she mused bitterly, That Idiot Headmaster is definitely right about his enemy’s obsessions. Which probably means he’s right about Voldemort’s plan too… If only I cared… The snake hissed, drawing her mind back to Harry’s danger. She couldn’t let her puppet be destroyed…Harry, run! She screamed inside him. The Great Anath will not fall in some unknown chamber. The boy listened and suddenly they were dashing around blindly, trying to escape as the snake approached. She tried to tell him to let her take over but the stupid boy was busy being deaf with fears, and well, doing his best to survive. But as it turned out he did not need her help. Harry cried with relief when Fawkes dived toward the Basilisk and cleverly attacked, until it plucked the beast’s eyes out.
They watched the blood spurt everywhere, the beast screaming in agony. While the Basilisk struggled, it swept the Sorting Hat from Fawkes into Harry’s arms. Anath glimpsed the sword being pulled out. It was as good weapon as any, but Harry stared at it and she realised that the poor boy had no idea what to do with it.
“How the heck…”
Leave this to me Harry, will you trust me? It is my life as well as yours. Anath did not realise that she had pleaded, it would have shocked her if she’d had time to analyse the situation. But then she never felt out of control before.
The boy nodded and she took control…
But it was too late.
“You’re dead, Harry Potter.” Riddle ridiculed the boy, while Anath ground her-their-teeth in frustration. She had not been able to take over fast enough, only after the beast had stabbed his fang at them! It looked like they’re going to die after all. She could not heal the boy; her symbiote was comatose, barely alive…
It is the end, as Riddle said. She sighed. Is this what Baal felt when he died? She had always wanted to experience everything Baal had gone through. Well, maybe not everything, especially if it went against her principles. But still… She had had some good times with the boy, scheming. It had been a while since anyone had able to fully entertain her. It is good to know you, Harry Potter, she told him.
“Yeah, dying with someone beside you is not bad at all.” He was slipping away, she could feel it.
“Hmm…no, not’s bad.” Perhaps she would even find some peace, with this host…
And then she felt the burning phoenix tears. Feeling (and pain, lots and lots of pain) returned to her host’s body. Anath was a bit angry when she realised she was not dead after all; the moron bird had healed them while she was preparing herself to die. What a letdown. She focused back on their opponent when Riddle reached for her and Harry but she did not have to do anything. Harry had taken the Basilisk’s fang and stabbed the book forcefully, taking no chances until all the ink spurted out like blood. It flooded the floor as they exhaled a deep breath.
For a moment neither said anything. And then-
“Well that’s finally over!” They both muttered at the same time. Harry laughed nervously and then pulled himself up, the pain in his leg becoming too horrible to ignore. They needed to get out of there. He staggered around, slowly gathered his wand and the Sorting Hat before taking the sword out of the Basilisk’s mouth.
Harry checked Ginny. She was alright, and her breathing was stronger. Her life force had returned to her, it seemed: She was just sleeping. He sat down, too bruised and tired to carry her to safety. He would have to wait until help arrived or she woke up.
A light glinted inside the doorway, where the Basilisk had first appeared. Harry was curious: He walked closer but the shadow disappeared again. If he wanted to know what it was up there, he needed to get closer. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
“Any idea what might be up there?” he asked Anath. And then his eyes went back to Ginny. “Or maybe I should wait-”
He could imagine her rolling her eyes in his mind’s eye.
Anath could feel the boy’s reluctantance to leaving the girl by herself. Nevertheless, neither she nor Harry could contain their curiosity for long. She would just have to give a little push for the boy would see things her way. “Ginny should be OK there, I’m sense there is nothing here except us and we can do nothing for her at the moment. It’s worth investigating, I doubt the stupid beast was left guarding the chamber by itself; unless Riddle had acquired the treasure already.”
“You’re right!” The boy thought the word treasure with glee, she observed. “Let me,” he asked eagerly, and nodded dumbly. It was an irritating habit she vowed she’d soon cure him of. But if he was so interested in treasure…Anath cast a “Redeograviton,” charm on them, letting Harry’s body become weightless. Up they floated, until they reached the entrance and walked through the round hole. Harry was surprised once again: Anath had a knack of pulling spells out of thin air, spells he had not heard of before. Where did she have the time to study them? Although he had his suspicions… The tunnel was long and they found a round door at the end. The door was a snake, with the head is as the knob. It stared rudely at them.
“What?” The snake hissed, watched them like the thing would have loved to swallow them.
“Open!” Harry hoped that his command would work.
“Speaker,” the snake rasped, “You killed the Basilisk; had you talked to it you might have saved yourself the trouble.” The snake’s expression grew smugger. “All you have proven, foolish human, is that the heir of Slytherin was not worthy of controlling the beast. Although, you were able to defeat the King.” And it nodded mockingly down towards Riddle’s diary.
Harry looked at it and dumbfound. The snake right, he did not even think of speaking Parseltongue.
“Riddle controlled the beast,” Harry sulked.
“Excuses, excuses! Perhaps you just enjoy killing your fellow creatures,” it muttered mockingly. “In you go. I hope you get what you deserve, Salazar’s dim-witted heir.” And the door immediately swung open.
The room was small, nothing as glorious as he expected. The only furniture was an equally small table, on which sat three objects: A book with the word Knowledge written on it, a scrap of cloth with the word Treasure stitched into its surface and a box, which had the word scrolled across its side. The casket caught Anath’s eyes: it was almost the same craftsmanship as Pandora’s Box... But that was not possible, she remembered it had been destroyed. A trusted source told her so. Maybe she should have investigated it but no one had spoken of it after the story spread around her Father’s Court.
“Pandora’s box?” Harry’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “The legend is real?” Anath ignored him: Something told her this was about to get very interesting. Harry scanned the table, looking for traps, until he noticed something carved into the table behind the three objects.
Choose One, My Heir, he read. In his head Anath smiled. Oh yes, she thought, this did just get very interesting. “Well,” she prompted, “Let’s get on with this.”
“But…” Harry looked at the three objects. He didn’t want to choose, and yet if he didn’t… He knew enough about magic to know that he would have to if he ever wanted to get through that door again. “What you think, Anath?” he asked, playing for time.
She shrugged. “It looks like Salazar left a game for his descendants. ‘Knowledge is equal to Power.’ ‘Treasure is equal to Wealth.’ And last but not least is ‘Luck is …Luck. The ability to control luck is what humans have always desired.”
Harry nodded. “Someone once told me, “An ounce of luck is better than a pound of wisdom.”
“Hm…” Anath was’t sure she agreed with this given her experience; Luck was superstitious in her opinion and not something she could count on. And yet, there were times she could not explain the world around her and its events through science…
Harry gazed at the objects, weighing them up. Anath did not really care; she doubted Salazar had anything earth-shattering to offer her. However, she also knew that they would have to get out of there: Someone would look for them soon, and if they were caught in here… It would not look good.
“I would choose Knowledge, Harry,” she said eventually, trying to speed him along. “It would be good for you.”
The boy nodded thoughtfully. “I would never want power; I think Riddle would choose that one.” Anath’s lips curved, the boy was right. She would have connected with Riddle well... “But what kind of knowledge does this give?” Harry continued. “Maybe I might not want to know all this stuff after I find it out. I’m not Hermione.” Anath rolled her eyes at the mention of his friend. Harry sighed, as if he hated to disappoint her, and she smiled. “I think maybe I should go with…luck?” He paused. “Is that right?”
“It’s OK, Harry. You can choose what you want. It’s your adventure.”
Harry took a deep breath and made his decision: He touched the box. It glowed as if it were charmed to recognise its new master as he opened the lid. Inside there was a small crystal in the shape of a key. Beneath the key was a small piece of paper. Harry took the paper out and immediately a clear, baritone voice sprang out.
“Dimwit, I should disowned you. You my heir? You’re properly in the House of Gryffindor...the shame!… But I’m glad that my heir has inherited this key. My Master, Merlin, did not explain what it was when he entrusted it to me, except that only my true heir would ever choose it. Now go forth with my blessing! The door will close in ten seconds, so get out now.” The paper suddenly burst into flame, as Harry ran.
He just made it out on time.
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TBC.........
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