We Can't Kill Each Other

"You're threatening me." Voldemort's voice suddenly turned cold, his snake pupils narrowing to slits.

Harry gritted her teeth against the pain in her shoulder and forced herself to meet those golden eyes. "I'm just stating a fact."

The Basilisk suddenly let out a chilling laugh, shaking the entire chamber. "Do you think Dumbledore... can deal with two Voldemorts at once?"

"We'll have to see." Harry lifted her chin slightly, though her legs were still trembling.

The girl and the snake faced each other in the dim firelight, and time seemed to stand still.

At last, the snake's body loosened slightly around her.

Her gamble had paid off.

Harry quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

"I could never quite understand before..."

Voldemort suddenly curled his tail around a lock of her red hair and toyed with it. "Or perhaps... they protected you too well, leaving me no chance to make a move." His forked tongue brushed dangerously against her earlobe. "Dear little Harry... oh, no, Harry, what do you think is the way to stop one wizard from killing another?"

Someone else only had to kill that wizard.

Harry's pupils contracted sharply.

No, her gamble hadn't paid off! How could she have thought a few words would fool Voldemort? Voldemort was a madman. Dumbledore couldn't threaten him at all, even if he was a giant snake now!

Damn it.

Harry's body began struggling before her mind could react, but the snake's coils tightened around her.

"No-!"

The snake's jaws suddenly opened impossibly wide and swallowed her entire right arm. His cold, wet tongue licked every inch of her skin like a desecrating offering, and slime dripped down her arm. As Harry watched in terror, his white fangs slowly sank in-

The expected agony never came.

"Damn it! Why?!"

Voldemort suddenly let out a heartrending roar.

Harry opened her eyes and saw that her arm was unharmed, while a gaping wound had appeared out of nowhere on the Basilisk's body, dark purple blood gushing from it.

"This is a chance!" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Harry's eyes.

While Voldemort writhed in pain from the wound, she snatched a sharp fragment of snake scale from the ground and thrust it with all her strength at those golden, vertically slit eyes-

"Ah!"

Blood splattered, but it was Harry who screamed.

A wound suddenly split open on her right arm, so deep the bone showed, while Voldemort's eyes remained unharmed. Scarlet blood dripped from her trembling fingers, blossoming into vivid flowers on the stone floor.

The girl and the snake stared at their own wounds, falling into an eerie silence.

"What curse did you put on me this time, Tom Riddle?!" Harry roared, clutching her wound, her green eyes burning with confusion and anger.

Voldemort's snake head reared back dangerously, his golden eyes equally full of confusion. "I wish I knew!"

His tail lashed the ground in agitation, leaving cracks across the flagstones.

There was a fragment of Voldemort's soul inside Harry's body now, but Voldemort could swear that soul fragment wasn't his. It belonged to this world's Voldemort!

Right now, he was more snake than man!

Still, that wasn't hard to accept. Voldemort hadn't been able to exist as a complete individual for many years, so he was quite satisfied even as a snake.

But what the hell was going on now?! Why couldn't he hurt the damned Harry Potter even as a snake?!

The girl and the snake faced each other in the dim chamber, neither daring to act rashly because of the bizarre way their injuries rebounded.

Harry's wound burned with pain. The creature before her might have been a snake, but inside was the Voldemort she knew all too well. Irritation welled up from the bottom of her heart, churning through her body like bubbling soda.

She was truly sick of it. She had had enough of fighting Voldemort.

Harry staggered to her feet, the torn hem of her robe stained with blood. "I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere." The snake's body immediately blocked the stone door, though it held back considerably.

Harry sneered, mockery on her pale face. "What? Are you going to keep me here until I starve? Or..."

She deliberately glanced at Voldemort's wound and drew out her words, mimicking Malfoy's habitually mocking tone. "Does the great Dark Lord need someone to play house with?"

The Basilisk's golden pupils narrowed dangerously, his fangs flickering into view as though he might pounce at any moment.

In the end, though, he merely flicked his tail in irritation. "Get out. But remember."

His forked tongue brushed her bleeding wound, making her shudder. "We're not finished."

Harry forced herself toward the stone door, every step like walking on the edge of a blade. As she hissed the passage open, Voldemort's final whisper came from behind her:

"Tell Dumbledore... the game has leveled up."

Tell who? What leveled up?

That bald boiled egg's been alive for decades and still hasn't outgrown his edgy phase, has he?

Harry staggered out of Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, her damp red hair sticking to her pale cheeks. She had just caught her breath when she heard a stammering voice:

"M-Miss Potter! Merlin, are you all right?"

Professor Quirrell stood in the middle of the corridor, his eyes wide beneath his purple turban. He hurried over and held out a hand with feigned concern. "I-I'll take you to the Hospital Wing."

Harry's pupils contracted sharply!

She could clearly see Quirrell's right hand slipping toward his sleeve.

He was reaching for his wand!

Harry certainly hadn't forgotten that Professor Quirrell was a Death Eater. This world's Voldemort was still behind his enormous turban.

She was alone now, and Voldemort was going to have his follower kill her!

"Professor Snape!" Harry pointed behind Quirrell and shouted, the terror in her voice utterly real.

Quirrell whipped around, his purple turban swinging to one side.

In that brief opening, Harry turned and ran, her bare feet slapping against the cold flagstones. The torn hem of her robe fluttered behind her, revealing more of her pale skin.

"C-cunning little witch!" Quirrell's stammer suddenly vanished, and his voice became unusually smooth.

Heavy footsteps rapidly closed in. Before Harry could turn the corner, a large hand seized her wrist.

"Good girl, don't move..." Quirrell's breath washed over the back of her ear, carrying the smell of garlic and something rotten. His fingers clamped down on her slender wrist through her clothing like iron pincers, immediately leaving a ring of bruises.

His gaze swept greedily over her torn clothes and lingered on her exposed skin, his breathing growing heavier and heavier.

What a fragile body, just like a newborn bird. He only had to squeeze a little harder, and this little bird would die in his hands.

"Y-you can't escape..." His voice switched eerily between stammering and fluency, and his right hand finally drew his wand from his sleeve-

"Petrificus Totalus!"

A flash of red light struck Quirrell, and he fell stiffly to the ground. Harry's legs gave way, and a pair of strong arms caught her just before she dropped to her knees.

Snape's black robes enveloped her like bat wings, and the familiar scent of Potions diluted the smell of blood.

Harry looked up and saw unprecedented fury and concern surging in those black eyes?

"Pro... fessor..." she murmured faintly, finally letting herself sink into darkness.

At the last moment before she lost consciousness, she felt herself lifted securely into his arms and heard Snape's restrained whisper beside her ear:

"It's all right. I'm here."