Nightmare's reawakening

Disclaimer: All characters of Final Fantasy VII belong to Square Enix for the game, Tetsuya Nomura, Takeshi Nozue, Yusuke Naora, Yoshinori Kitase and Shinji Hashimoto for Advent Children, Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.

Cast:

Writer: Fumseck73

Beta-reader/translator: Dragonqueen909 (English translation)

Summary: Chamber of secrets AU. Harry found the entrance to the chamber earlier during the year. After almost having an heart attack when meeting the Basilisk, he realise that she was only lonely and became her friend. She then show him what she was really guarding: A huge pale green crystal, in which slumber a man with long silver hair. (Or in which Harry found a repentant Sephiroth and get himself a big brother/protector. Dumble and Voldy better watch out.) Weasley(Molly/Ginny)/Dumbledore bashing.

Prologue:A long slumber

The Calamity's Son's slumber had been long. Very long. But time didn't meant anything in his imprisoned crystalline state. Minutes, hours, century… millennials. The ages passed, empires were created and then collapsed. But still, he slumbered.

Sometime, he could vaguely perceived what was happening around him. Many times, his crystal had been discovered. Somes had try to destroy it, sensing the danger he represent, failing every time. Others had want to used his power to destroy or ruled the world. Others yet had exposed him. Always, he was returned underground, the Lifestream moving him elsewhere.

Will he one day found what he was searching for? A way to repent his sins? To show his worth by keeping his promise?

The last time he was found, he felt it. But he hadn't been exposed. The one that found him didn't try to destroy or wake him up either.

His instinct told him that he was placed underground, in a kind of cave. The one that moved him there had build it over time. Hiding him behind a statue and leaving a serpentine guardian to watch over him. To not be awoken too soon, it seems to him.

And the time flowed by. Until he felt a presence.

It was different than all the others he had felt before. The others had been… powerful, in their own way. Often arrogant. Not this one, it was weak next to the others. Almost choking on itself. There was something wrong with the aura, he realized.

Then he realized that it was a child. And at the same time not innocent like one. Its aura was that of having grow up too fast… just like him. One force to passed trials too big for them. To win them… or die trying.

Anger started rumbling in his heart at that realisation, followed by shock when hearing the young child voice. It was almost say like a prayer.

" I only want someone to protect me…"

The whispered word would have been inaudible to normal ears. But he wasn't a normal person. His blood start boiling at hearing those words. Until then, all those that had touched his crystal had only wanted death and destruction. They had wanted to drown the world in fire and blood, but this child only wanted someone to protect them from harm… and that touched a string burrow in the deepest of his being. He knew what it was like, to want someone to protect them from monsters, whether those were humans or not.

If only he could respond to this child plea… he wouldn't let anyone hurt them again until he drew his last breath. They would have to get over his cold dead body.

At this thought, the crystal reacted. The crystalised structure destabilised in a multitude of cracks, before dissipating in millions of pyreflies, returning to the Lifestream. His body floated for a couple of seconds, before falling with one knee to the ground.

Taking a deep breath, he absently noted the smell of humidity and mold. He slowly opened his eyes, vertical slits dilating to catched maximum light. Feline acidic green eyes met the emerald ones of a child, much too thin, that was looking at him with big fearful eyes, half hidden behind a huge snake.

And this is how Sephiroth, the Nightmare, the Calamity's Son, meet Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived.

oOo

Salazar Slytherin wasn't a dark wizard like the wizarding world will come to think of years later. In fact, he hated them with a passion, had even eliminated many of them long before building Hogwarts with Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw.

That's why when he stumble on the crystal holding the Calamity's son, his first reflex was to destroy it. Before hesitating. He knew that history had a bad tendency to distorted fact with the passing of time, the winning side or the government of the time. Could it be that his was distorted too?

After long hours of reflexion, he went to Rowena for advices. Sadly she confirmed that the stories where true. But she also told him that he wasn't always a bad person and that he wanted to repented his sins. Trying to destroy the crystal will only make it appeared elsewhere. Be it in one year or a millennial later. In place of that, she suggested he hide it somewhere where people with nefarious intentions couldn't get to it.

With help from the others founders, he created a secret chamber, only accessible by speaking parseltongue. Even if he though it wasn't necessary, he was preferring to have the less people possible able to find it. For more protections he place a statue of his uncle in front of the room holding the crystal.

Yes, the famous ugly statue had never been depicting Salazar, but his uncle Morfin. It was a private joke between him and the other founders. The others had help created the Legend of the Chamber of secrets. He had also created a Basilisk to protect the chamber and the school in case they were attacked by a big scale army. He didn't hated non-wizards, but he knew that the danger they represent was very real. Educating the children were a priority for the survival of the wizarding world and prevent discovery.

When she was old enough to understand complex things, he explain to her her mission.

§You understand what I ask of you, Esmeralda?§ He asked his basilisk that had recently grow well pass 15 meters.

§Yes.§ She hissed in response. §Protect the crystal and its sleeper from people with bad intentions. But what if one of your descendant learned that it's there and want to see it?§

§Only show them if you are absolutely sure that they are not searching to use its power to destroy the world or kill non-wizard-borns.§ Responded Salazar, while carefully measuring ingredients for a potion. §If you see that they want to use your abilities to kill innocents, don't even mention it to them. And if someone speaking the noble snake tongue, but is not one of my descendant, came to see you, don't attack them first. Not before knowing their intentions. With chance you could become friend with them after my death.§

§You know I don't like it when you speak of this Sal,§ Esmeralda hissed sofly, visibly bothered by it, tongue thrusting out to taste the air in agitation.

Salazar sighed softly, lifting his head to look at his basilisk with affection.

§Esmeralda, you know very well that human, even with magic, are fragile and don't lives long. Unless they go diving in the blackest of magic, we only lives for a time. An I REFUSE to use that kind of magic,ever.§

§I know,§ She hissed sadly. §I know. But what if someone not speaking the snake tongue get inside?§

§Then study their attitude. Figure out their intention and if they get to see it or not. I trust you on this.§ He says gently, petting her head.

He knew that she would be alone for a long, long time. But the "only" way, if you can called it that, to reach some kind of immortality, was by making an object called an Horcrux. And it was the blackest magic there was.

Even basilisks were not immortals. Oh, they lived long, close to 9 centuries in fact. But they too would finally come to die in time. With a little chance, the steps he put in place will let her live longer than others. But the future wasn't set in stone, it was constantly changing. In Parseltongue, he had asked her to sleep for the longest time possible and to only awaken 2 or 3 times each century.

He had left to his children his wand made of snakewood and basilisk horn (given by Esmeralda when they started to grow in) and his locket holding a drawing of his beloved wife. She had die while giving birth to their last child, which too, had die not long after. He never had the heart to remarry and had stay a widower even with many witches wanting to marry THE Slytherin Lord. He had refused them all, staying faithful till the end.

When he finally reach an advanced age for non-wizards, he choose to leave Hogwarts to continue his experiments in potion. He particularly wanted to created a potion to cure werewolves, or, if impossible, give them a way to keep their human mind during the transformation.

With his leaving, the real reason disappeared bits by bits until the only things left of him, where completely distorted facts or those attributed to him by one of his descendants.

And Esmeralda slept, just like he had ordered. Only coming out of her magical sleep to eat or shed her skin. Either in the forest surrounding the castle or in the pipes system specially designed for her.

Her sleep was disturbed for the first time by a descendant of Salazar who wanted to "purge" the school of all muggleborn as they were call this days. She did her best to avoid obeying his orders, just petrifying the majority of his victims. With the exception of a girl named Myrtle Warren that would later be known as "Moaning Myrtle". She came to haunt the bathroom in which she died, adding to the basilisk misery. Who had NEVER wanted to kill a child.

Finally, to her relief, the Black Mage as she called him, she refused to use his name, stopped calling her. For half a century, she was left in peace.

Then to her utter despair, he returned. But not in his own flesh. No, he returned in the darkest form possible. A fragment of soul attached to a diary, possessing an innocent girl to force her to kill again. And she had to follow his order. Because the same magic that allowed her to sleep was also the one that push her to obey a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Unless someone more worthy of her allegiance show up.

What she didn't know, was that this someone was in the process of approaching. And that he would be the one to awaken the person that would allow her to regain her freedom. That is… if he didn't die before that.

oOo

Harry was desperate. Between the teachers staff that (from his point of vue) weren't doing anything and Hermione petrification, he was at the end of his rope. Ron wasn't helping either, trying to convince him to play chess or to do nothing. Except that Harry could not take out of his mind the picture of Hermione lying on the hospital bed, stiff as a board.

Pomfrey had assured him that, in her state, his friend was in no danger, but that didn't change his worrying at the situation. He spent his free time in the infirmary, taking advantage to do his homework in peace. Except for the first day, Ron had not accompanied him again, he was relieved about that in a way.

Ron may had been the first friend he made, but his total lack of table manners and explosive temper was embarrassing him often.

Sighing, Harry lifted his head to looked at his friend. He just couldn't wait for the mandrakes to be ready, so she could be back in top shape. His gaze passed on Hermione before returning to his homework. He froze suddenly, putting down the parchments and studying his friend's right hand. He had to lean forward, but he had confirmation that he had not dreamed, Hermione was holding a sheet of paper in her clenched fist.

What could be so important that she'll go and tear the page of a book? He wondered as he glance back to look if the nurse was still there. He relaxed seeing that she was still in her office, the door ajar to keep an eye on her patients and their few visitors. Cautiously, he moved his chair to hide what he was doing, and went to work. After long minutes of effort, where he believed more than once that he was going to tear the page, he managed to free it.

Smoothing it, he realized he was right, and that it was a page torn from a book of the library, highlighting the gravity of the situation. Indeed, unless it was a question of life or death, Hermione would NEVER have ruined one of her holy book. He turned pale as he read what was written on the piece of paper.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and ven omous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

Under the text, a word was written in Hermione's handwriting "pipes".

Harry had the impression that somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.

"That's it," he murmured "that's the explanation. The monster in the chamber is a basilisk, a giant snake! That mysterious voice, that's why I was the only one to hear it, she was speaking Parseltongue."

Harry looked at the beds around him.

"The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin… Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again... and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first!"

And there, Harry turned pale realizing the implications. A fucking giant snake was wandering around the school's plumbing! What was he supposed to do? Go see the teachers?

He dismissed this idea almost as quickly as it had come to him. Last time, with Quirrelmort, it had failed miserably. Okay, he thought it was Snape at the time. But the way McGonagall had told him to piss off (politely, but the idea was there), did not really push him to trust his Head of House. And Lockhart was an incompetent. Even Ron had noticed.

But if things went on like this, the school would close. And he would lose the only thing giving him a feeling of home he knew. Privet Drive did not count. For him, even if he had never said it out loud, it was a prison. Not a house. He began to think at full speed. He knew that there was at least one dead student when the chamber was first opened.

A new idea struck him. And if it was Moaning Myrtle? After all, she had died in a bathroom, which she now haunted. Sliding his bag under Hermione's bed as to not be bothered by it, he greeted Madame Pomfrey politely and left the infirmary as soon as possible. He started to run as soon as he thought he was far enough.

He had little plan beyond trying to enter the chamber and reasoning with the snake. He did not even know if it would work, which is why he did not try to alert anyone, including Ron. But if the snake spoke, then maybe, like the boa constrictor from the zoo, he could convince him to stop attacking.

He had to at least try. Breaking in front of the out of order girl's bathroom, he bend over to catch his breath. After a few moment, he straightened up and entered cautiously. For once, the floor was dry.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw Harry. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," said Harry.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hid den because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away. …" She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" said Harry.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry approached it immediately. At least he had been right so far. Now, to open the entryway…

The sink was nothing fancy. He examined it inch by inch, including the pipes underneath. Harry then saw the drawing of a tiny snake engraved on one of the water taps.

"That tap never worked," said Myrtle as he tried to turn it.

A little cliché, Harry thought. After a few seconds, he realized that he probably had to speak in Parseltongue to make the entrance appear. Turning to Myrtle, he gathered his courage before talking to her.

"Myrtle? Can I ask for a favour please?"

The ghost turned dark gray, and he realized she was blushing. He groaned mentally. As if he didn't had enough fangirls already, ghosts had to get into it too!

"Whatever you want, Harry," Myrtle murmured, floating closer to him.

"Are you able to tell me if I spoke English or not?" He asked, making her blink. "This entrance probably only opens with Parseltongue, and I do not know when I speak it. Can you confirm that for me please?"

"Of course."

Harry concentrated. The only time he had managed to speak that language was when facing a real snake. He stared at the little carving, trying to believe it was real.

"Open"

He turned to Myrtle, who shook her head.

"No, you spoke normally," she said.

Harry looked at the snake again, thinking with all his strength that it was alive. When he moved his head from right to left, he had the impression that the snake moved in the candlelight.

§Open§

This time it was a strange hissing that came out of his mouth and immediately, the tap began to shine a white glow and turning on itself. A moment later, the sink tipped and disappeared, revealing the entrance to a pipe large enough to allow a man to pass trough. Harry stared at the pipe for a moment and made his decision.

"I'm going. Thank you for your help, Myrtle."

The ghost girl blushes again.

"No problem Harry. Say... if you ever die... would you like to come haunt the bathroom with me?"

The boy stared at her with big, shocked eyes, then, without answering, jumped unhesitatingly into the pipe. He felt as if he was riding down an endless, dark, slimy toboggan. On the way, he saw other pipes going in all directions but none were as wide. Harry was shaken in all directions by the sinuosities of the pipe that was throwing him into unsuspected depths, far below the dungeons.

Then suddenly, the pipe became horizontal again and Harry was thrown on the damp floor of a stone-walled tunnel, just high enough for a grow man to stand up inside.

He straightened cautiously, checking that he was unhurt, and resolved to apologize to Myrtle when he came back… if, however, he came out of there alive. But he had panicked a bit when she asked him that. The Dursley had not really prepared him to interact with girls. He snorted thinking about that. That was the euphemism of the century, that. Apart from preparing him to maintain a house so sterile that it would have been possible to perform surgery, they did not prepare him for anything.

Not for the first time, he began to wish that he had someone to take care and protect him. The Dursleys had done their best to destroy that hope, but they had never been totally successful.

A cracking sound pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up at the ceiling with concern. If he based himself on the distance he had traveled in this pipe, he was probably under the Black Lake right now. The walls covered with slimes testified to the veracity of this theory.

"Lumos!" whispered Harry, making his wand lit up.

He then plunged into the tunnel, wading loudly in the puddles that covered the ground. The tunnel was so dark that he could not see very far. The light generated by his wand make the shadows seemed monstrous.

The tunnel seemed as calm as a tomb. The first weird sound he heard was a loud crunch when Harry stepped on something that turned out to be a rat's skull. He lighted the ground with his wand and than saw that it was littered with bones of small animals. Trying not to think of the state in which he might end up if he failed, Harry resumed his walk. He finally stopped when the tunnel formed a corner, and swallowed.

He could see a shape just behind the corner, and for the first time since he had decided to go down, his courage flickered. Harry took a deep breath, then, knees shaking, moved cautiously. Slowly, eyes barely opened, he stepped forward, lifting his wand. The glow that shone at its end lit up the gigantic, vivid green shedded skin of a snake. The empty skin was rolled up on itself across the tunnel. The relief he felt when he realized that it was just a molted skin almost made his legs go limp, but he recovered quickly.

Gryffindors were supposed to embody courage, shit! However, the sheer size of the dead skin was terrifying. At the time the Basilisk had moulted, it must already exceed 20 meters. Harry did not even dare to imagine how big it was now.

Breathing deeply to regain his composure (as much as possible in these circumstances), and keep going into the long minutes of silent walking (if we did not count the crunches of bones on the ground), the tunnel never stopped turning, Harry felt nervous. He wanted to see the end of the tunnel, but at the same time he dreaded what he might discover. Finally, after a last curve, Harry found himself in front of a wall on which were engraved two entwined snakes. Large sparkling emeralds were set in place of the eyes.

Harry approached, his throat dry. He had no trouble imagining that these snakes were real: their eyes shone with such vivacity that they seemed alive.

He guessed what he had to do. He cleared his throat and the gleam of emerald eyes seemed to quiver.

§Open,§ he hissed hoarsely.

The two snakes parted at once: the two sides of the wall on which they were engraved had just slide aside in silence. Moments later, they had completely disappeared, leaving the way open.

Harry, trembling fiercely, crossed the opening. He had only one desire, to piss himself in terror. But he had come this far. No question to give up now.

oOo

He was at the entrance of a long dimly lit room. Huge stone pillars, around which were carved curled snakes, supporting a ceiling drowned in darkness and casting their black shadows in a strange and greenish atmosphere.

Heart pounding, Harry stopped, his ear tense in the frozen silence. Was the Basilisk lurking in the shadow of a pillar?

He lifted his wand and walked among the columns, each step echoing through the dark walls. He kept his eyelids barely opened, ready to close them at the slightest warning. On several occasions he thought he saw one of the stone snakes move, whose hollow eyes seemed to follow each of his movements.

When he reached the last two pillars, he found himself facing a statue leaning against the back wall, which was the same height as the Chamber.

Harry had to stretch out his neck to see the head of the statue: it was representing a wizard with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of his robes where two huge greyish feet rested on the smooth floor.

He was alone in the cave. No trace of the basilisk. And now? Clearing his throat, he called out with hesitation.

§Hello?§

§Oh,a two-legged,§ said a voice to his left, making him jump. §What are you doing here, snakeling?§

Harry thought he was going to have an heart attack, and even more so when he turned his head in the direction of the voice. He found himself almost face to face with a gigantic snake, whose slightly veiled golden eyes was staring at him. He took several seconds to realize that the reason he was not dead was that the Basilisk had translucent eyelids, so as not to kill with a glance. If he knew they existed, it was thanks to Hedwig. Birds of prey had this kind of transparent eyelids to protect their eyes when they were hunting. He had also seen this information in a book at the local library before leaving for Hogwarts his first year.

§I'm sorry, little snakeling,§ softly said the giant snake before him. §I didn't meant to scare you.§

Harry forced himself to calm his distraught heart, which took him a long time. For the moment, everything was going much better than he had feared, given what he had heard her say in the corridors. He was even surprised that she was so polite.

Her head was on the floor, so as not to frighten him more, which would have been difficult. After all, with more than 60 meters long, she was quite imposing. At least she made an effort to put him at ease. And there, his Gryffindor tendency to charge (or, in this case, to speak) without thinking manifested itself. It was a wonder how Malfoy had not finished in his house, since he had more the qualities of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin.

§You're huge… not to offend you,§ he added hurriedly.

Obviously, the stress had caused him to say the first thing that went through his head, and he tensed, hoping she would not get angry. He got an amused laugh in response, the Basilisk raising her head slightly.

§I'm not, snakeling. I would even dare to say that a lot of things must seem enormous to you. And, after all, size is a matter of pride for a snake, and even more so for a basilisk. Because we never really stop growing, the bigger we are, the older we are and therefore respectable, according to Sal.§

§Sal?§ Harry asked, puzzled.

§Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of the school. A potions expert, and also the first to teach how to defend yourself against Dark Wizards, from what he told me. He liked to talk about what he was doing, you know,§ she added sadly, as if she missed him.

Harry blinked, surprised. What she was explaining to him totally contradicted what he had learned in Hogwarts: A History. On one hand, it only half surprised him, considering the time that had passed since the death of the Founders. On the other, it made him want to know more.

Then he sat on the ground, on the driest place he could find, and spoke with Esmeralda, who took great pleasure in discussing with him. She taught him so much about the beginnings of the school, that he did not even see the time pass. She was patient and answered all of his questions, though he could see that some of the answers saddened her, especially when it touched Salazar, who was, quite literally her father. Harry learned more about him than about all the other founders, and the vast majority of myths about him took more than a hit. The only real things about him, according to Esmeralda, were the fact that he was a Parselmouth and a Potions Master. And according to her, when he told her about Snape and Malfoy, the first would have been fired with losses and disgrace years ago if Salazar had still been of this world, his lack of professionalism and his bias towards Gryffindor and Slytherin more than enough to justify his dismissal. As for Malfoy, his bigotry would have been enough for warnings from the first day, or even his expulsion and the loss of his magic.

And by Merlin, Harry had been more than surprised to know that Salazar was more considered a half-blood by today's standards than as a pureblood. Indeed, his own mother was Muggle-born, and his father a Muggle, thought of noble birth. And his wife had been Muggleborn too. Harry was saddened to learn that she had died in childbirth, and that the baby himself had not survived. He also learned that Salazar had never remarried, and his respect for the man went up a notch.

In the end, Salazar Slytherin had been an ordinary man, but nobler than many others of the same era. The biggest surprise was knowing that Slytherin was originally thought of as the house of the Muggleborn at Hogwarts, and that it had housed more than the other three combined at the time. The trend had slowly reversed with time, Sortings and the rise of purebloods. The "Pure-Blood Doctrine" was also something that dated back to a very short time, according to Esmeralda's point of view. Salazar would have immediately made it a point of honor to crush this doctrine, which he would certainly have found absurd.

Strangely, Harry had finally felt comfortable enough to start talking about his life. He could not even tell how the conversation had drifted on the subject. After Esméralda's remark about his size and his thinness maybe? And he had cracked. He had poured everything he had on his heart, all that his "loving family" had done to him. Blows, lack of food, physical and psychological abuse, "the bedroom" under the stairs, a simple broom closet, absolutely everything. Part of him was relieved to unpack everything, mainly because he knew she could not talk to anyone about it, and the experience had been… cathartic. He had finished in tears, but strangely relieved.

Esmeralda was furious to hear what they had done to him. No child should have to suffer that! And why had no one intervened? Did they not see? Well, even though she could not kill them herself (they were too far away for that), she could do something for Harry.

The mouth of the statue was only one of the two entrances to the secret room, solely for her use. There was another right next to the statue, but Tom Riddle, later known as Voldemort, had never known about it. He had never been worthy of it. If she had shown him the crystal, he would certainly have tried to wake his sleeper. And the crystal would have been gone again, disappearing for an indefinite period, to reappear randomly in the world. With a little luck, he could help the poor child.

§Follow me, snakeling,§ she hissed. §I want to show you something.§

Harry, curious, got up. He said to himself briefly that his curiosity would certainly end up causing him some problems one day, but for the moment Esmeralda had been polite and kind. When he had raised the subject, she had told him that she had never wanted to attack the children of the school, but that a Black Mage (her own words) had forced her to do so. And she was sorry for Myrtle's death. She had never wanted to kill her, but when the Black Mage pulled her out of her sleep, he ordered her not to use her protective eyelids, which filtered her deadly gaze, making her harmless while allowing her to see.

Stopping next to the right foot of the statue, Esmeralda hissed §The Great Nightmare slumber§, sliding a portion of the wall large enough to grant passage. Harry jumped in surprise, and could not help but ask why.

§There is another entrance,§ she explained, §but it's in the statue's mouth, and I doubt you want to climb up onto my head,§ she chuckled. §Sal used this entry, and there is also his private potions lab, as well as a small personal library. I have never been able to read the books, of course, but they are there. His journals are even there somewhere, I believe.§

Harry made a nervous laugh as he heard that. Actually, said like that…

§And for the password?§ He asked, curious.

§Come, and you'll understand,§ she said softly, waving her head for him to advance.

Harry followed her. He had decided that, to the point where he was, a "monstrous" magical animal was more trustworthy than most humans he knew. At least she had treated him like a normal person, not like The-Boy-Who-Lived. Merlin, how he hated that title. He was pretty sure it was his mother who had done something to protect him, but since she was Muggle-born…

His train of thought came to an abrupt end when his gaze fell on the hidden room. He could see two doors on the sides, probably leading to the famous lab and library, but what really caught his attention was the huge, pale green crystal in the back of the room. Inside, like an insect in amber, was an adult man with long silver hair that seems to reach to his knees. The crystal was easily 5 to 6 meters high, and 2 to 3 meters wide. The man was about in the middle, and seemed almost to be sleeping.

Harry wondered briefly if he was still alive, before remembering the password. After all, Esmeralda had spoken of slumber, not death. As if hypnotized, he approached slowly, barely paying attention to Esmeralda who followed him closely, but at a respectful distance all the same. He finally stopped in front of the crystal, raising his head to look at the stranger inside.

Harry did not really understand why she had mentioned Nightmare (he had felt the capital letter in the word) in the password. He did not look so nightmarish to him. Pretty tall (Harry thought him at least 1m80), slim but muscular from what he could distinguish, he was dressed in a trench coat and black pants, without a t-shirt, revealing his torso, on which crossed two strips. Lighter shoulder pads (impossible to define the color with certainty because of the crystal) were on each of his shoulders, and he wondered what they were for.

All in all, he was pretty impressive, Harry found. But he did not look that dangerous to the child. A strange feeling began to swell in him. He was still strung up with his earlier revelations, and his mind was confused. Why had Esmeralda shown him this man? No adult had ever helped him. Yet, looking at the stranger, he had a weird feeling. His face was peaceful, yet there was a hint of sadness. Waiting almost. As if he was waiting for something.

Slowly, Harry raised his hand, and gently placed it on the smooth surface of the crystal. To his astonishment, he was almost lukewarm. Loneliness fell on him, almost suffocating, and he rested his forehead on the crystal, closing his eyes, tears streaming down his eyelids.

"I only want someone to protect me…" he whispered, almost like a prayer.

It was one of the desires buried in the depths of his heart, one the Dursleys had tried to destroy, never succeeding, second to finding a family that would come to save him.

Crack!

Harry jumped in surprise at the sound, stepping back with a wide, surprised look. His gaze fell on a crack at the level where he had put his forehead. The latter grew, multiplying, covering the crystal in a real spider-like web. He retreated until he reached Esmeralda, surprised and frightened.

It was not his words that caused that, right?

Just when he thought the crystal would fall to pieces on the floor, it dissipated, disappearing into a million bright pyreflies, pale green like the crystal, leaving him speechless. His gaze was attracted by the man, who floated in the air, as if gravity had not yet taken hold of him. His long silver hair floated around him, as if supported by the pyreflies, which dissipated almost simultaneously, letting him fall to the ground, where he landed one knee on the ground.

Harry stood frozen in amazement and worry, a little comforted by the fact that Esmeralda had moved slightly to get closer to him, half concealing him with her head. Harry felt a slight chill of apprehension when his vis-à-vis took a long breath, as if he had held his breath for an eternity, before slowly opening his eyelids, eyes an acid green, with verticals pupils coming to be fixed in his own emerald green similar to that of the Killing Curse.

And this is how Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, met Sephiroth, the Nightmare, the Calamity's son.

To be continued….

The Nightmare is back, and he's angry :) Dumbles and Voldy would do well to watch their backs, because it's going to start heating up!

Since my regular beta reader has been AWOL for months, Dragonqueen909, author of the prompt prompted me to write this story, which she serves me both as a beta-reader and a translator, as well as a wall to bounce my ideas ^^