//------------------------------//
// Anew 
// Story: Harry Potter and the Crystal Empire 
// by Damaged 
//------------------------------//

"Harry Potter, you should be able to tell me what I'm about to cast." Minerva McGonagall was stoic in that anything could be used to teach. Her office wasn't tiny, but with her, Addera, Ron, and myself it was starting to get a little cramped.

It didn't take a vast intelligence to answer her question. Anyone who'd paid any attention in second year transfiguration class would be able to say, "Reparifarge."

My answer got a rare smile from Professor—no, Headmistress—McGonagall. "Very good. I hazard to guess that it will fail. Anything capable of turning a fully functioning wizard into another fully functioning creature, and a basilisk into,"—McGonagall paused a moment to look at Addera—"whatever you are, miss Addera, is likely more than a match for the simplest of restoration spells. But, why use a hammer when a prod will do."

Flicking her wand out, McGonagall pointed it toward me. "Reh-pah-ree-fahj!"

I felt as her magic lanced out and wrapped around me. It was like being bound up in a tight woolen jumper, then the knitting was plucked and the whole thing unraveled. From experience, I knew that unraveling should take whatever transformation charm was on me and whip it away. 

"Just as I suspected. Well then, Ron Weasley, what should I use next?" McGonagall asked.

Ron, looking shocked still from when the reshuffling of the school's hierarchy was revealed, looked like he was trying to invent a spell from scratch. Then, almost by magic, his expression brightened. "R-Revelio!"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the answer, then nodded her head. "Very good Mister Weasley. I'll have to ask, though, how did you learn of a third-year spell in second year?"

"My dad, Ma'am. He used an invisibility charm on his car, then couldn't find it. He said Revelio could be used to undo most transfiguration magic." Ron turned to look at me for a moment, as if asking me to back him up. One day I'll just tell him I don't know all of magic. That's why I'm at Hogwarts, after all.

"Your father was correct. Revelio is one of the most powerful counters to transfiguration, which is why we teach it in transfiguration class and defense against the dark arts. Now, hold still again, Harry." Again McGonagall raised her wand at me. "Reh-vel-ee-oh!"

This surge of blue magic was much more powerful, and she wove her wand into the pattern of an eye. A shiver ran from the tip of my tail to the end of my nose—then back again. 

"I believe this spell is as stubborn as you are, Mister Potter. Speh-see-ah-lis reh-vel-ee-oh!" This time there was no rush of magic into or around me, only a wave of soft power that seemed to float around. McGonagall looked me over carefully. "I can see many things about you with this spell, Mister Potter, but I cannot see any transfiguration magic. Nor can I see a particular curse that I know should be there.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were not Harry Potter at all, but you've already convinced me well enough that you are. Right now I am examining all the charms, curses, hexes, jinxes, and transfiguration magic in effect upon you. Mister Weasley, explain what you see."

Ron looked at me, peered around, even crouched down to look under me (which I didn't appreciate, but suffered through all the same). "I don't understand, Ma'am. I don't see anything."

"Precisely, Mister Weasley. And do you know why you don't see anything?" McGonagall asked.

"B-Because there's nothing to see?"

"Ron Weasley, I'll make a transfiguration expert out of you yet. Five points to Gryffindor." Turning around, McGonagall seemed to be looking for something on her bookshelf. "Under most circumstances, when you can't find something, it is because you are not looking hard enough. I can assure you we are looking hard enough. Therefore, what we're looking for is not there. You are not under any form of transfiguration magic, Mister Potter."

I'd had enough. I stomped a hoof on the stone floor in anger. "So if there's no transfiguration magic on me, why am I still a little unicorn?"

"That's simple, Mister Potter." McGonagall pulled a book she selected from the shelf. "You are a little unicorn. There's nothing else for it. This is your natural form. Whether it is caused by the apparent translocation of Hogwarts, or by something unrelated—this is what your body is."

—She makes sense, Harry Potter. Don't you feel comfortable like this?— Addera asked. —I do. It's unnerving how relaxing it is.—

"So how do I become human again? A wizard." While I spoke, I tried to avoid reaching for the feelings Addera had mentioned, but they came all the same. I took a slow breath, then let it out just as slow. Damn, I feel good.

"That is the crux of the matter, is it not? I can do it, of course, but there's no telling what the effect will have upon you long term. You are, Mister Potter, a little unicorn. You will have dreams and desires as a little unicorn, and one day you may well find another little unicorn to have little unicorns of your own, but until then, let me see about giving you a little time as a wizard." McGonagall set the book down on a lectern and opened it. "Now let me see. Ah, here we are.

"Ho-morph-us e-tern-us!"

The spell was nothing I'd heard before. Power boiled in a blue light from McGonagall's wand. Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes piercing as they watched me.

The magic wrapped around me and boiled into me like sweat on a balmy summer's day, but completely backwards. It was just about the most horrible feeling ever. I watched as a the fur on my forelegs fell out, and more legs themselves stretched and grew hands. I grew hands. The muzzle obscuring the middle-bottom part of my vision (that I'd barely noticed when it was there) pulled back into my face. 

More changes, speeding up, rushed through me, but none was so shocking as my horn pulling into my head. I know I screamed, but I couldn't stop it. The pain was almost unbearable, but it soon stopped. I came to wrapped in tight coils and with a soft hoof rubbing my cheek. "A-Addera?"

—You expected some other snake? Harry Potter, this isn't you.—

"Get off me, Addera." I tried to stand, but when I started to fall over, I stopped.

—You don't want me to get off you, Harry Potter,— Addera said.

Arms were strange to get the hang of after even so short a time as a little unicorn. I tried to push at Addera, and finally had had enough. "Addera, off."

—Don't say I didn't try to help you, Harry Potter.—

The feel as Addera slowly slithered off me was, without a doubt, unique. Her scales were soft, and slid like silk across my skin. Only when she was fully off me did several things click together. Scales on skin. I'd been wearing just my fur. I was naked. "I'm naked."

—I warned you. I tried to do my sworn duty and protect your honor, Harry Potter, but you commanded me to abandon you in this time of need.— If ever a snake could sound smug, Addera did right then. She stuck her tongue out at me and everything.

Anger would be quick to come, but I clamped down on it and let pure embarrassment reign instead. "C-Can I have some spare clothes, Ma'am?" Of course I used my hands to cover myself. This was insufferable.

"Give me a moment, Mister Potter. I keep spare robes of various sizes—Believe it or not, you are not the first student I've changed back into a human state, and you'll probably not be the last." As she spoke, McGonagall turned and made her way to a closet. I lost focus on her thanks to not having my glasses.

"Miss! Uh, Ma'am?" Ron, when I looked at him, had gone white as a sheet. I followed his outstretched arm and finger with my eyes, but tracking it only led to McGonagall, who I couldn't make out.

"What is it, Mister Weasley?" McGonagall asked.

Ron gulped and kept pointing. "Y-Y-Your tail, Ma'am." 

McGonagall spun around and stalked toward us. She tossed an old robe toward me (it hit me in the head because I couldn't judge it well enough to catch) and turned on Ron. "Mister Weasley, I would know if I'd grown a tail, or—"

Stopping mid-sentence, McGonagall reached behind herself with one hand. Her normally pale skin tone bleached to the color of old bones. "This is most unexpected. Return to your dormitory and remember the little story Dumbledore told you."

"Do I still need to talk about the little unicorn bit? Now that I'm back to normal and all." The robes, as I pulled them on, were scratchy and harsh against my skin. Everything felt strange now. I felt like I should be the one with a tail.

"I have the most horrid feeling that despite my best efforts, that spell will not be as permanent as we'd otherwise hope. So it would be best to let them know you have a condition, and things are being tested to correct it. As for your companion…" McGonagall turned and looked at Addera. "Having seen Mister Potter's mouth so expertly manipulate the English language, there's no reason you can't do the same. Given your understanding of English, I see no impediment to you speaking it. You can hardly be a student of Hogwarts and only speak parseltongue."

—I take it back, Harry Potter. I don't like her anymore,— Addera said. —Maybe I should just look at her for a few minutes. I wonder how long it would take before she'd be your servant forever?—

"Hold on. You're making her a student?" Ron asked. "How is that going to work? She doesn't have a wand! And she's not a—"

McGonagall turned her full attention on Ron—the poor bugger. "Mister Weasley. You are expected to keep to the same story, and part of that was the origins of Miss Addera here. Until the end of the school year, she will be considered a student and guest of Hogwarts. What has been done to her should not be done to any creature, and we owe her a debt for what one of our founding fathers did to her. Do I make myself clear?"

—She is nice, Harry Potter.—

"Now, off to your dorm and take Miss Addera with you."





Back in Gryffindor house, past the portrait of the Fat Lady, I felt somewhat safe. I turned for the hall where Ron and my beds were, and froze. Fred, George, and Neville were all looking at us as if we had a monster in our midst. Which we did. Addera insisted on slithering at my side all the way into the Gryffindor common rooms.

She looked to be balanced precariously, the forelegs she now possessed folded against her, but I knew she was reasonably comfortable upright. As comfortable upright, in fact, as I wasn't. It didn't feel right. I wanted to drop to all fours. "This is Addera."

"Why's her eyes closed?" Fred asked.

"And why's she a snake-horse?" George asked. Both of them walked closer. "Can you see?"

—Please, Harry Potter, can I open my eyes now?— Addera asked.

"She has a condition!" Ron's exclamation drew both his brothers' attention. Under the look of Fred and George, I could see any hope that Ron would keep a single part of the planned story a secret evaporating. "And Harry. They both do! You should have seen what happened when he—"

I stepped between Ron and his brothers, which meant I was invading all their personal space. Ron breathed a sigh of relief, his brothers both grunted. None moved away from me. "We were going to save Ginny."

"Ginny? Is she okay?"

"What happened?"

All games with their brother stopped as the twins focused their attention on me. "She's okay, in a manner of speaking." I reached into the big pocket of my borrowed robes and pulled out the book—Ginny's diary. "You see, there was a problem with an old artifact."

"Right!" Ron shoved up beside me, his urge to tell all the falsehood as poorly as possible reasserting itself. "She's a book now."

"She's in the book. We got in a fight with a bad wizard, who was controlling the basilisk. Addera,"—I pointed to Addera—"helped us fight the basilisk, but in the battle the wizard got away and Ginny got turned into a book. I—"

"Harry's a little horse! A unicorn!" Ron said loudly.

I heard a soft hissing, and noticed Addera blindly staring at Neville. The two were silent at first, but then Neville spoke softly to her, and though she didn't say anything in reply, she nodded or shook her head moment to moment.

Fred rolled his eyes. "What are you talking about, Ron? 'E's not a horse."

"Or a unicorn," George said.

"McGonagall thinks she has the curse on me removed, but she needs more time with Ginny." I had nowhere to back away to, and both Ron's brothers were focused on the book now. "She can talk to you."

"Ginny! ARE YOU OKAY?!" George reached for the diary from one side, but it was ultimately Fred who grabbed it—her.

"How'd you go and get yourself turned into a book? How're you meant to talk like this?" Fred held the diary in the air and shook it—her. "Is there some kind of spell?" Fred froze as the diary flopped open, and he read some words inside. "George?"

"What?"

"It really is Ginny." Fred reached out, holding the diary open, to show two full pages writing. "Th-There's three more pages of it. She sounds angry with us."

"How do you know it's really Ginny? It could be Ron trying to pull the wool over on us." George watched skeptically as words started forming in the diary. I couldn't read them, but a moment later George grabbed the diary and slammed it closed. "It's her!"

Ron had his hand over his mouth—trying not to laugh. When he noticed my confusion, Ron pulled the hand away and fought through an attack of giggles. "Ginny has dirt on all of us. I didn't know George had turned a toad into a girl and—"

"I didn't do anything!" George had, somehow, turned redder than usual. 

Fred snatched the diary from George and reading a bit more, passed it back to me. 

"Why are you giving it away? All we have to do is tie it shut and she can't tell anyone anything!" George made a grab for the diary, but I quickly stepped back behind Addera.

"Because Mum and Dad will find out. Do you have any clue how mad Mum will be if she finds out we tied Ginny up and wouldn't let her speak?" Fred took a long step back from Addera and I. "Not on your life am I gonna get involved in this."

All the moxy seemed to drain from George's face, or what I could make out of it. "Mum'd string us up by the washing line. By our ankles. Without our wands."

"Anyway," I said. "I'm going to get my spare glasses and want to check up on Hermione. Are you coming, Ron?"

"I'll come." Neville surprised me with his insistence. 

"Yeah yeah. Keep your hair on." Ron glanced at Addera, and I could swear he shuddered as he did. Of course he'd still be feeling strange about having been hypnotized by her—I still felt strange about what she'd done to me. 

Addera's eyes were, from what I remember, beautiful. I shook my head to clear the slight fuzz that just the memory of her gaze caused, and stomped off to my bunk. Addera followed me into the first and second year dorm. The quiet sounds of sleeping boys were obvious.

—She's right, Harry Potter.— Addera's voice was mercifully low, apparently she could feel or smell the others sleeping.

"Who's right, Addera?" I asked while I searched for the case my spare glasses were in.

—Headmistress McGonagall. I need to start speaking English instead of parseltongue. How else, Harry Potter, will anybody take my threats seriously?—

"I take your threats seriously, don't worry. I still get chills when I remember your eyes." I located my glasses and lifted them out and straight onto my face. The world—the part encompassed by the wire rims—came into focus. I had nearly a tenth of a second warning before Addera was pressed against me, one of her hooves under my chin to hold my jaw up.

—You think my eyes are pretty, Harry Potter?—

Her mention of her eyes made the wisps of fuzz curl around the edges of my mind. I screwed my eyes closed in case she were about to open hers. "They looked nice."

—You said 'beautiful'.— Addera's last word was said, mimicking my own voice, in English. Her voice was pretty, not at all like what cartoons would portray a snake as sounding like. There was no hint of hissing, for a start.

I thought back, really focused on the time I'd looked into her eyes when her whammy didn't work, and it surprised me. "Addera, when I was blasting the rocks away, you looked at me and it didn't mesmerize me."

Addera let out a soft chuckle, the actual sound of which was more like repeatedly saying the word hiss. —I wonder about that myself, Harry Potter. You're changing the topic.—

Turning for the door that led back to the common room, I paused a moment. Bloody snake. The worst bit was she was right. "I said beautiful, but only because I was under your control." More reptilian laughter followed me as I left the room. 

"You got everything, Harry? You're still wearing those borrowed robes," Ron said.

I groaned and turned around, stomping back to the shared dorm room. Inside, I quickly lifted off the robes and dumped them on my bed. I looked in the one mirror we had in the room and looked at a stranger. The being standing upright had a mop of black hair, glasses, and pale skin that was almost completely furless. 

Shivering, not sure exactly how to take the feeling that the body I'd had all my life was somehow alien, I reached into my things for the backup robes and clothing.

—This isn't you, Harry Potter. Your body is soft and weak. Your true body is almost indestructible thanks to my scales, and you had a wand.—

Addera was behind me, watching me, which meant I couldn't turn around or risk getting lost in her eyes. She might lack the words to order others what to do, but she could whisper to me in parseltongue and I'd do anything she wanted. 

But Addera was right about one thing—I was wandless now. "We'll go to Gringott's and get some money for a new wand and new glasses. This is my body, Addera." Underwear, socks, shirt, vest, trousers, jacket, and robe over the top. In the mirror a wizard now stood, but I still had to struggle to recognize him.

As I turned, I caught the faintest glimpse of Addera's eyes closing. "And we'll get you something to hide your eyes so you can walk around openly."

—I don't walk, Harry Potter.— Addera proved her words by slithering around me so that the door was the only place I could go. 

"You know what I mean. Come on." Focusing on the door, I tried to shove out of my head how wrong it felt walking. My arms swung at my sides, and nothing felt right. What's more, it was getting worse, and I think Addera knew it.

Ron and Neville fell in with me—both walking on the opposite side from Addera—and we headed out together. 

As soon as we were past the Fat Lady, Neville cleared his throat. "You're not the real Harry Potter." Neville's wand slowly raised to point at me. "You don't walk right, for a s-start, and when I used Mum's—You're covered in transfiguration magic! Tell me who you are, or we're going straight to Dumbledore!"

That's when it occurred to me that neither Ron nor myself had a functioning wand. I gripped Ginny's diary a little tighter. I didn't have time for this, nor the patience. "Of course I'm covered in transfiguration magic. I just came from McGonagall's office, remember?" I took a slow, sideways step to make it harder for Neville to hit Ron and I with the same spell.

—Harry Potter, close your eyes.—

"What'd she sa—" Neville didn't get any further. He was gazing into Addera's face serenely. As his wand tip lowered, I let out a sigh of relief.

Addera was between Ron and I, but while my eyes were shielded from her gaze by the back of her head, Ron was slightly forward of Addera, and had he turned to her when she looked at Neville, he would have been mesmerized too.

"Cor. That ain't half useful." Ron was carefully looking at a painting on the wall to his side. "But a little more warning would be good. I nearly turned around to see what you wanted."

"You can't keep doing this, Addera. Neville wouldn't have hurt us. At worst he would have just canceled McGonagall's spell to see what I am." Though I had to give her credit, her gaze didn't actually hurt anyone, and it was a good way to stop people from causing harm. Harm like undoing all McGonagall's hard work.

I looked at Neville. The guy looked like he was in love. At a moment's notice, I expected him to launch toward Addera and hug her. He looked at her, in fact, as if she were the most enchanting creature he'd ever seen—which was probably true. 

"So you just tell him what to do now, right? He'll do anything?" Ron walked up to Neville and waved a hand in front of Neville's face. 

"Addera can't, since she only speaks in parseltongue. Because Neville doesn't understand it, she can't give him commands." As I spoke, I saw the light come on in Ron's eyes.

"Perfect!" Ron's smile widened. "Neville, you're going to go back to the dorm common room, and when you get there, you're going to find George and Fred's spare shoes and cast an arresto momentum charm on them."

—Oooh, I like him. Tell him I like him, Harry Potter.— Addera sounded excited as Neville turned around and walked back into the Gryffindor dormitory.

"Ron, you'll get him in trouble with that," I said. "I already don't like the way Addera uses this on everyone to solve the most minor problem, don't you get in on the game."

Ron and Addera, together, giggled. It was the most unnerving thing I'd ever experienced—akin to finding out a friend had gained the powers of a god, which wasn't far from the truth.

"I mean it, Ron. If you keep up pulling pranks like that, I'll…" I trailed off and tried to think of something. Then it hit me. "… I'll ask Addera to look into your eyes and make you do the same things you tell others."

—See, Harry Potter, this is why I like you. Your friend took a step, but you slithered past him. Very interesting to see such traits in one who follows the blood of Godric Gryffindor.— Addera sounded far too pleased with herself.

"You wouldn't," Ron said.

I turned and looked at him, and had to wonder what he saw that made his eyes widen in surprise. "Don't push it."

"Alright. Alright. It was only a little fun."

"Besides," I said. "If we do it too much, people will start to plan for it."

It took Ron a few seconds to catch on, then he grinned wide enough to put creases in his cheeks. "So, who'll we prank?"

We looked at each other for a moment, our smiles matching. "Malfoy!" we both said together.

—Who's Malfoy, Harry Potter?— Addera asked, pronouncing Malfoy as if it were in English.

"Who's Malfoy?" Ron asked Addera, to which she nodded. "Just about the worst. He thinks he's all high and mighty because his family are pure-bloods—like that even matters—and he keeps going on and on about why nobody's as good as he is. Typical Slytherin."

"Slytherin?!" Addera said, and rushed around Ron to be facing him—though she thankfully left her eyes closed. —What know you of Slytherin?—

"Draco Malfoy," I said, "Is in House Slytherin. Hogwarts is divided up into four houses. Didn't you hear Tom's ghost talking about this?"

—I spent much of my time, Harry Potter, not listening to that monster.— That Addera, a giant snake that could kill with a glance, would call Tom/Voldemort a monster was quite telling.

I knew what the problem was, though. "He who—Voldemort won't give you any more commands, Addera."

—What will you do, Harry Potter?—

A little anger twitched inside me. It shocked me how frightened Addera sounded. I looked at her closed eyes and could feel the intensity with which she was feeling. "I already killed him—twice—and helped kill his ghost. You could say I'm getting better at it."

Ron barked a laugh. "Practice makes perfect, right Harry? How many times before it sticks?"

—I have lived over a thousand years, Harry Potter, and yet you have lived barely twenty. Why do I trust you so much?— Addera asked.

Ron looked confused. "I missed that one. What'd she say, Harry?"

"She asked me why she trusts me so much." I reached a hand out to Addera's cheek and cupped it, then traced up the side of her head to one of her pointed ears—then I started rubbing it.

"Hang about. Don't you mean she asked why she should trust you?"

"No, Ron." I started off walking again, and Addera moved at my side so my hand could keep working. "I have no idea, Addera. But it's a little overwhelming sometimes." And it was! For all she could mesmerize with a glance, and probably still had poison enough to kill in minutes, she put her trust in me and I had to make sure it wasn't unfounded.

—Keep talking. It helps me think in English.—

Not just a basilisk that trusts me implicitly, despite being nearly a hundred times older than me, she also wants me to help her learn English. "I hope Hermione's okay."

—Are they one of the ones I petrified?—

"That was a question, right?" Ron asked. "Only, I'm starting to work out the inflection of those bits. Kinda like when Scabbers makes this odd squeak, I know he's wanting to know something. Awful intelligent, rats.

"You really are walking odd, Harry. It's like you're in control of a body that's not yours or somethin'."

"Don't remind me. I don't know why, but this doesn't feel right. And yeah, it was a question. Addera wanted to know if Hermione was someone she petrified. She was." The last bit I said to Addera. "She'll still be in the Hospital Wing recovering."

—How do I say "I'm sorry" in English, Harry Potter?—

"I'm sorry," I said, pronouncing the words carefully.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Addera wanted to know how to say it."

"Oh. For Hermione?"

—Yes,— Addera said. "I'm sawry."

"Sorry. More like ssorrry," I said.

"I'm sorry," Addera said, her words still sounding slightly off. "I'm sorry. I'm Sorry." —I sound different when I speak like that.—

I absently reached up and rubbed at Addera's ear again. "You sound really different, nicer."

Ron turned the corner and carefully opened the door to the ward where Hermione had been. Peeking inside, he waved us forward and slipped into the room.

The light was dim, but there were small lamps that were turned low, but it was enough to avoid tripping over anything. Laying in her bed, I could see Hermione holding something. 

—This one was almost too brave. She thought that simply avoiding my direct gaze was enough. I had trouble getting her to— Addera cut short at the sound of movement.

Hermione had rolled over in the bed, wand aimed toward Addera. "I remember hearing you speaking parseltongue last time. I'm not going to fall for—Why is its eyes closed? Harry? Why are you rubbing the—That's not a basilisk!"

I looked around the otherwise deserted room and then back to Hermione. "She is and she isn't. Hermione, this is Addera. You can lower your wand."

"Adder-a?" Hermione looked down at her shaking hand, then quickly drew it back. "What's going on here?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Addera said clearly. —That's all the words I have, Harry Potter. It will have to do.—

"She doesn't speak much English, Hermione, but she understands it. She wanted to learn how to say that to you."

"She is the basilisk?" Hermione asked, though now she'd lowered her wand, it seemed she lacked the strength to raise it again.

Ron shuffled past Addera, putting himself between her and Hermione. "Yes. But she was under Tom Riddle's ghost's control. He's Voldemort. It got a little hazy for a bit, but we're mostly alright."

"What about Ginny?" Hermione asked.

What about Ginny? That was a problem I'd helped cause. "She was being controlled by Tom's ghost, too. She didn't—"

"Another monster stole her body," Ron said and reached out to me. When I slipped the diary into his hand, he passed it to Hermione. "She's in the diary for now, but we're going to get her her body back. Right, Harry?"

"Right." I hope. "For now, she can talk to us through writing in the book."

Hermione looked at me as if I was the one sitting on a gurney, and probably in a mental institution. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"Here." I held out a hand, but when Hermione started passing me the journal, I shook my head. "No, I need a pen."

"Oh. Here." Hermione produced a regular ball-point pen from her robe. Not for the first time did I thank my stars she was muggle-born—most wizards would offer me a quill and ink.



Ginny, Hermione's here. She's okay. Everyone is. Addera just petrified them.





Hermione! You're really alright?



"That's Ginny's handwriting!" Hermione reached out and snatched the pen from my hand and started writing in the diary.



I'm alright, though no thanks to the basilisk. Is what Harry said true?





What did he say? It's not easy to listen.





Harry said a monster stole your body.





Yes. Tom saved me.



"If it wasn't for Tom's ghost, you wouldn't be in here, Ginny!" I said. When it appeared she didn't hear me, I wrote it.



Tom was mind-controlling you, Ginny. If it wasn't for him, you'd be in your body still.





He was sick, but he



The words stopped mid sentence. I glanced to Hermione, then to Ron—both shrugged at me.



Tom Riddle needed help, but he knew a lot about magic. You wouldn't believe some of the things he wrote in here. He had a whole section of the journal just for his spellcasting.



"Is she defending Voldemort?" Hermione asked. If Ginny could hear us right then, she didn't show it. "We'll sort it out later, I guess. Did anything else happen?"

"You know we're not supposed to tell anyone, but Dumbledore said that all of Hogwarts teleported when we were down there. Oh, and don't mention that Addera was the basilisk. We're supposed to keep that quiet, too." Ron looked proud of himself until he saw Hermione and I glaring at him. "What? We have to tell Hermione!"

Hermione lifted her nose just a little, the typical pose she assumed when she was about to tell someone off—for the first time in a while, it wasn't me. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Ronald Weasley, you should have listened to Headmaster Dumbledore." 

"Professor," I said.

"What?"

"Professor Dumbledore. He got in trouble with all this Chamber of Secrets stuff. Headmistress McGonagall is in charge now. We came here from her office, she uh, helped me with a little problem, too," I said.

"Oh come off it," Ron said. "Now who's telling everything?!"

"At least this is personal. You're ready to tell everything to everyone we run into." As I spoke, I felt a flare of anger. I tamped it down as best I could. "Hermione, something down in the chamber turned me into a unicorn."

Ron nodded. "A little one." 

Hermione giggled. "How little?"

"You believe me?" I asked.

"Not at all, but if Deputy Headmistress McGonagall is as crazy as all you have become, I have no chance of stopping—well—whatever it is that made you crazy." Hermione gave Ron and I glare before turning her attention to Addera (who had been sitting back quietly). "How tall was Harry as a—as a little unicorn?"

"This," Addera said, and crouched a little lower to hold her hoof out at roughly what height I was when I was normal—a unicorn.

"Thank you." Hermione turned her attention back to me. "And I assume McGonagall dispelled it?"

"Nope!" Ron said entirely too cheerfully. "She tried everythin', and when it didn't work, she examined Harry for magic and found none. Not even the curse was there."

"So how did she turn Harry back, then?" Hermione asked.

"She didn't. She had to turn me into a human." My blood ran cold as I explained it. The words were the truth I didn't want to hear, and I'd been the one to say them. "She said—said I am a unicorn now, and this is only temporary until we can work out how the chamber did this to me."

"You're hallucinations. You must be." Hermione closed Ginny's journal and passed it to me. "Go away, hallucinations, I need more sleep." And, with that, Hermione rolled over and faced the other way. "And give my pen back."

Gingerly, I set her pen on the little chest beside her bed and backed away. 

"Where're you goin', Harry?" Ron asked.

"To bed. Us hallucinations need our sleep, and passing out from magic overload doesn't count as sleep." I reached an unfamiliar hand out to Addera and rubbed one of her ears, while I used the other to slip Ginny's journal into a pocket.

Ron caught up with us as we left the Hospital Wing. "She wouldn't talk to me. She said she was sleeping."

"She doesn't want to deal with it tonight, Ron, and neither do I. This is all getting too crazy. I hope, when I wake up, I at least feel like myself again," I said.

Beside me, Addera leaned so that her head was against me, yet her body undulated and slithered like any other snake would. She still terrified me, but she also fascinated me. —You're staring, Harry Potter.—

"No I'm not."

—Yes you are. You can keep staring, Harry Potter, so long as you keep rubbing my ear like that. I never had ears before. I like them.—

"You're a strange snake, Addera." I kept rubbing her ear.

—And you are a strange unicorn, Harry Potter.—

"You're all crazy. Hermione too. I don't know why I put up with this madness. Back home I could have learned from me mum, but no. I had to come to Hogwarts like everyone else. And Ginny! If she'd just been home-schooled, she'd still have her body." Ron was in full tirade mode, but I knew it was just how he blew off steam. He followed Addera and I all the way back to our Gryffindor dorm-room but quietened down as we entered our shared bedroom.

I stripped off my spare things—they were actually my clothes from last year—and climbed under the covers so quickly that I didn't notice the elephant in the room. Well, the pony lamia. "You should probably go to a girls' room, Addera."

—I should, but I won't. None of you have anything I haven't seen before, and I would be upset if something came in here while you were asleep and killed you, Harry Potter. Most upset.—

Upset. She'd be upset if I was dead? I wanted to get angry, but even my recent spate of fury was no match for how tired I was. "Whatever." I pulled the covers up over my head, and tried to ignore the feeling of coils of snake climbing onto the bed.





Ginevra Molly Weasley stood in the snow and looked at the shimmering—to her magical perception—ward that grew from the ground and looked so soft, yet so dangerous. She shook her head. She wasn't Ginevra Weasley. "This is annoying," King Sombra said through the mouth of the pony body of Ginevra Weasley. "Where is my power? This barrier would be nothing before my full might."

For all his words, every time Sombra turned his attention toward understanding and attacking the barrier, the little girl whose body he inhabited—or the ghost of her—pushed into his thoughts. Taking her body had been a necessity, but in taking her body he had also taken the patterns in her brain.

It was such a lovely day. Ginevra turned her head from the barrier to look up at the beautiful sky and—

"Damn whelp!" Jerking his focus back from the barrier, Sombra struggled to regain his sense of self. He was an invader, and the weight of thousands of years would eventually reshape Ginevra's brain to his own needs, but in the meantime he had to put up with stray thoughts from a pre-teen girl.

Closing his eyes, Sombra turned his attention inward. "I'm going to kill you. You are nothing to me but an annoyance. Your entire life is a blink of my eyes. Die, Ginevra Molly Weasley."

In his head the little core of the girl whose body he stole shrunk and diminished, but didn't die. "It's only a matter of time. I tried to make it gentle, but you insist on dragging this out." In truth, Sombra was a little confused. Ponies normally just rolled over and died when in such a situation.

Feeling the presence in his head curling into a defensive ball, Sombra turned his attention back to the barrier. At first, he tried throwing power against it, but the barrier was slippery to his magic. Like a greased oven tray, nothing he threw at the barrier would do more than slide off. 

Turning his attention to the edges—usually the weak spot in any magic formation—Sombra started teasing at the threads that seemed to be exposed, but no sooner did he have one coming loose than the barrier sucked it back in and reformed it. In short, he was getting nowhere.

"There are two ways to overwhelm anything. The first is with a huge precision strike." Pacing left and right, Sombra reached his magic out and felt for what he'd made thousands of years (of Earth history) ago. "The other, Genevra Molly Weasley, is with massed weapons. Can you feel them? All those minds slaved to mine? I am the key that fits their lock, and I control when they open."

Sombra knew that he was tormenting that little girl in his head, but she'd asked for it. She could have simply surrendered like the others, or bowed down and aided him. He crushed a few more of her precious memories from his mind.

"Now it's time to get serious."