Boy and the Begining

Harry stumbled and nearly fell flat on his face but managed to catch himself against damp stone.

He looked around himself, frowning.

He had yet again stumbled by accident into yet another situation, and before he had even managed to extract himself somehow from the previous one he had been in so he was understandably apprehensive when he eyed the small cave he now found himself in, littered with bones of varying variety, though judging by the shape of a few of them, they might have been aquatic in nature.

He wasn't sure if that was indicative of the severity of his situation, or the fact that this place wasn't underwater and they may belong to those who could not breathe outside of H20.

As his eyes passed by the skeleton of a giant humanoid with teeth like a shark he spotted a patch of red.

He frowned, adjusting his bag, somehow surviving his underwater adventure and coming with him through the swirling vortex of doom, and walked over to the patch of red.

It resolved into an ordinary bright red door.

It was such an incongruous thing to find in such a place that he just goggled at it for a few solid minutes before approaching wearily.

He had learned his lesson about curious patches of strangeness with the Kraken business so he smartly stopped a foot or two away from it, studying it.

Despite his intense scrutiny, it remained an ordinary seeming door with a brass doorknob and a garish paint job.

As if it were waiting for his confusion at such a thing to reach a certain peak, the surface of the door shimmered, and where the knocker used to be, a business-like plaque, also brass, with black lettering appeared.

Welcome to the Doorway

Through this door you will find one of three fates:

Trials wrought, Freedom Gained

Trails wrought, Prison Gained

Trails wrought, Death Gained.

If you do not venture, you will die.

If you venture, you may live

Though you may prefer the former.

Harry stared at what he could only assume was a magical plaque of some kind on the door, though it wasn't exactly poetic, in fact it was rather poorly written and blunt.

Harry's eyes nearly bugged when the words faded were replaced by more.

I'm a magical plaque not a bard you moron. Do you want your first clue or not?Since you don't strike me as the sit around and starve to death type.

Harry nearly choked on his spit. A magical mind reading plaque it seemed.

He bit his lip. He could not stay here, that was for sure. The portal that had spat him out was nowhere that he could see, and there was no other obvious way out.

Reading the conclusion most likely from his mind, the words changed again.

Past me lies your first task. To survive the trial you must find a particular basket and carry it to the arch at the other end. Once there you shall receive your next instructions to get through the next trial.

…

Good luck moron.

With that, the plaque faded away, and the door creaked dramatically open (1).

Harry took a breath and girded himself. He just had to get through this…

He growled to himself as he strode forward.

If he ever saw that Elemental again (though highly unlikely) he was going to give him a solid fist in his perfect pearly whites.

Ooo ooo ooo

The location he found himself was actually a pleasant surprise.

It was a beautiful sunny field with wild grass and flowers, even butterflies. There was even a sky and a sun and little fluffy clouds.

It wasn't overly large either, roughly the size of a football field.

The only odd thing was that the place was littered with baskets of varying sizes, shapes, and colours.

He frowned. It couldn't be this easy.

This was something else that Harry had picked up, particularly from The Vault. Nothing was ever as it seems.

Harry pulled off his bag and reached inside and pulled out a stick he had been saving to fashion into a fishing pole and warily poked the side of a nearby lavender coloured basket.

Nothing happened.

He poked another one, an Easter basket with frilly yellow ribbon.

Nothing happened.

When he poked a few more and nothing happened, he put his stick back in his bag. He wearily reached out to grab the rim of the lavender basket, fingers inches from poking inside when Harry spied a blue butterfly idly flutter inside a tall tan coloured basket with bells.

The thing suddenly burst into motion, the rim snapping shut. It sprouted legs and trotted off, bells jingling merrily as it chewed before settling in a new place, rim open wide again.

Harry hastily retracted his hand, glaring at the baskets with trepidation.

"So that's the trick then," he muttered to himself, "carnivorous baskets...nice." (2)

Harry tried lifting a basket with his stick again, by the handle this time, instead of poking them in the sides, and found that trying to do that didn't work either, as the particular red basket he had tried that method on came alive and began eating his stick.

Harry hastily dropped them and the basket swallowed it like a spaghetti noodle and waddled away, settled and belched a cloud of saw dust.

Finding a nearby bolder (and after examining it to make sure that wasn't going to come alive and bite him in the arse) Harry sat down and considered the field of hundreds of innocent looking baskets.

He couldn't pick one of these things up, since it would likely take his arm off in the process, nor could he use a stick or other similar object to carry it as it would just meet the same fate.

He couldn't find one and just kick it across the distance (the basket was likely to take his foot off) and he couldn't levitate it since the door had been specific that he had to carry it across the threshold somehow, and he was not looking to aggravate whatever powers that be governed this place if they thought levitation was cheating, they might also take exception to being singed either.

Still, there must be at least one basket that he could handle; after all, the door said a "particular basket", so that means there must be at least one benign one in the whole lot. Harry patted himself on the back for realizing that.

As he tried to figure out what to do, he idly threw clumps of dirt and grass at nearby baskets, watching them come alive and eat the offerings before scuttling away.

He had an idea then.

It was true that he couldn't just try out every single one of them one at a time, since there were just too many, and they moved after they ate, making the job much harder, but what if he fed them all at once?

He slapped his fist into his hands. Yes, it just might work!

Nodding to himself he considered how he was going to do that.

Then he had another idea.

He began etching a clear ring, occasionally shooing baskets away with handfuls of grass or pebbles, until he had a large area marked out in the dirt.

Harry tossed aside the sharp rock had found and enlarged enough to use as a tool and took to the air until he was hovering over it.

Nodding to himself, he concentrated.

The area within the circle glowed and suddenly a large bubble lifted into the air hovering like a hot air balloon half filled with dirt and plant matter.

Harry concentrated and another one appeared then another and another until what passed for a sun in this place was eclipsed by the floating dirt bubbles and there was a giant hole 50 feet deep or more.

Harry nodded to himself. He had enough now.

He hovered above the bubbles, sweat beading on his brow, and edged his focus to what he wanted next.

Each bubble began to vibrate heavily, knocking and shaking their cargo until it was nearly fine clods, and then when Harry was satisfied (after all he didn't want to crush the basket creatures under a large wad of dirt) released his cargo all at once.

A rain of dirt fell and Harry was treated to the sight of a wave of rainbow coloured wicker coming alive and going into an eating frenzy, scuttling here and there.

During the commotion, Harry spied one basket that didn't move at all.

It was the size of a bassinet and made of pine shoved between to boulders near by a dancing banana shaped basket.

Harry quickly swooped in and grabbed the basket victoriously and landed on the other end of the meadow. He frowned at the basket in his arms.

It was not small, but not to big either, looking quite ordinary but for the odd addition of what he could only guess was some sort of wicker made harness.

Shrugging he stuffed the lot under his arm and stepped up to the door in the arch that had appeared before him (3).

The plaque appeared and began writing.

Congratulations on conquering the first, and easiest of your trials. This trial has proven that you do not take appearances at face value. You're not a complete moron it seems after all.

Harry snorted.

For your second trial, you will need to wear the basket you carry.

The door paused there and it seemed to wait until Harry put on the basket, which he did hastily, finding that it rested against his chest snugly, though he wasn't keen on it when the straps magically adjusted to his torso and seamlessly locked him in.

Within this basket you will carry a precious treasure, the greatest wealth one can find on the planet. What that is, I will not tell you, it is what you decide.

With that, the door slid open and Harry entered another cavern. This one though was relatively small and barren but for three pedestals in the centre.

On the pedestal to the right, was a thick rolled up scroll, on the centre was a dazzling ruby the size of his fist, and on the third was a melon sized porcelain coloured egg with veins of blue.

Harry looked around the room wearily, and then looked at his options.

After the hoopla with the ravenous baskets, this was rather anti-climactic, but at the same time, the quiet room held its own sinister quality in that Harry was sure that there was only one right choice, and if he chose wrong, he would likely suffer the consequences.

Harry's stomach suddenly growled.

It had been awhile since he ate and since he didn't seem to be on some sort of clock, and the room seemed otherwise harmless, he reached into his pack and pulled out a bottle of water and a sandwich, munching contentedly as he eyed his options.

He had read enough stories by now to know that going after things like giant rubies, gold and such was never a good idea. There was always a moral element in the situations like this that Harry had read in his books and he considered some of the stories he had come across involving mystical choices.

Like the Greek tale of a woodcutter that lost his axe in a river, and since it was his only means of livelihood, bewailed his poor luck, which caught the attention of the god Hermes who retrieved for him first a gold axe, then a silver axe the finally his original axe asking him if each axe was the one he lost. The Woodcutter smartly and honestly claimed only his own and Hermes gave him the first two as an award. Another fellow heard about this, and tossed his own axe into the water, cried and attracted Hermes. Unlike the more honest fellow, this one lied and claimed the gold axe was his, which resulted in unfortunate consequences for him (4).

Harry eyed the ruby wearily.

Yes, he was quite weary of choosing the most expensive item up for grabs, so he discarded it.

That left him with a choice between the scroll and the egg.

By this point he had surmised that each object must symbolize a particular type of wealth.

The ruby must represent material wealth.

So then what did the last two represent?

Harry eyed the scroll. It looked very old but in reasonably good condition.

He was reminded in various stories that many of the heroes were either aided by some sort of wise figure in some form or manner and through that help gained something, or occasionally were figures themselves that outwitted some antagonist or other through smarts not brawn.

The idea of brain over brawn, the pen is mightier than the sword and so on, were all things fluent in many of the things Harry had both read and heard through cultural interactions in his travels. He would not be stupid and say that that he didn't know what the scroll represented.

Knowledge is power and having a wealth of it makes you top dog. Even people like the Dursleys understood that (as there closed-mindedness allowed anyway).

That left the egg though.

He frowned as he eyed the egg.

It didn't take him to long to figure out what it represented.

New life.

Having life was the ultimate wealth of all. Where would your material wealth be without a living person to appreciate it? Where would knowledge be without a living person to discover it?

Harry nodded to himself as he slapped his hands free of crumbs, neatly packed away his sandwich box and strode over to the pedestal.

It was a no brainer really; the greatest wealth one can find on the planet is life.

He picked up the egg, freezing a moment, as if waiting for a giant boulder to bear down on him, then relaxed when nothing happened (5).

He carefully moved the somewhat heavy egg into the basket which suddenly lined itself with plush red velvet and feather down, and sealed the lid over it.

He grunted under the weight, but after few experimental strolls got the feel for it and made his way to the waiting red door.

The door greeted him snarkily.

Well, another easy trial is down, though I doubt you will be as lucky in some of the others.

Harry glowered at the door, as it continued to write.

Congratulations on proving that you understand what real value is. The next task will not be so easy.

Harry sighed, "Of course not."

Beyond me lie those who despise the figure of a whole human. If you have two legs, two arms, two eyes, one nose, one mouth and one head then you cannot pass through without dying.

With that the door swung open.

Harry wearily stepped forward.

He was in a large sitting room. A large giant's sitting room by the looks of it.

3 large sitting chairs were three giant humanoid creatures (6).

Each of these figures had fifty heads and a hundred arms, and judging by the waste basket nearby where he stood, which held the dusty bones of those who had tried for it and had not been able to pass, he would need to think of something quick to avoid the same fate.

Harry spotted a regular human sized axe and a chopping block. He didn't need help to figure out what that was for.

As the door said, he could not pass with his current features. He should probably consider himself lucky that they were taking a kip.

Harry huffed silently to himself 'well, I'm certainly not lopping off something.'

Then he remembered a little item he had taken from the Vault.

After some hunting, he pulled out what he was after.

The Nomkey Brand.

He took a breath as he stared at the cold seeming business end of the brand.

He had been curious at first, even tempted, to use it sometimes but after a while he finally determined that it would be too much of a bother to keep hiding from people, as he was sure that having a tail would stir up Normals if discovered. Now though, it was either an extra limb, or minus one.

Nodding to himself, he took off his pants and knickers, still keeping an eye on the giant creatures wearily.

Before he got to business he used a pair of scissors to cut a hole in the back of his trousers and knickers and then nodded to himself and picked up the brand.

From what he understood from the description, he would not need to heat it up; it apparently had all the necessaries built into it magically.

He carefully felt along his lower back until he found a space just above the crack of his arse and with a bracing breath, he pressed the brand down on the spot.

It hurt of course. it was a horrible burning agony that made him gasp before he bit his lip to strangle back the screams as he quickly ripped of the brand which surprisingly disintegrated in his hand. Apparently it was only for single use.

Growing the tail was no picnic either and left Harry panting like a race horse in the end.

This of course roused the three giants.

"Wha…?" the blondish one mumbled, blinking 50 sets of eyes open, a few hands scratching at a few noses, "What was that?"

His heads looked around sluggishly, his mutterings waking the other two.

A brunet one yawned fifty of his hands covering fifty mouths politely, "what are you on about Cottus? You woke me from a rather good nap, it's only been a few centuries after all."

"Well something woke me up Briareos," Cottus mumbled, heads still swiveling.

Briareos grumbled again but obligingly swung a few heads in a half-hearted effort.

Harry quickly, achingly pulled on his pants, shoving his tail in the holes he had made, not taking the time to really look at it he froze when the blond crowed, "there he is!"

A tidal wave of giant meaty hands grasped for him. Harry felt he may have lost a few years off his life in that moment seeing that sight descend on him.

He was grasped and lifted high into the air, dangling from his shirt.

Harry was treated to the most thorough and unnerving examination of his life as they eyeballed him.

"You idiot, Cottus, this is just some little creature crawly that somehow ended up in here. We can't even eat it, its scrawnier than anything else that's passed through ,and we have no idea where it's been, drop it and go back to sleep."

Cottus muttered sulkily and Harry was unceremoniously tossed the rest of the way across the room, where he caught himself, amazingly, on a nearby giant coat rack.

He watched, upside down and dangling from his new tail, which smarted at the abuse so soon after growing, the giants settled back in there chairs, the third having never woken up at all and snoring contentedly.

He scrambled and slid down the coat rack and tottered his way to the red door shakily, checking the egg as he went, finding it miraculously undamaged.

I was going to say you demonstrated something else, if you had actually did what normal heroes would have done, which was either loped off a limb or hidden an eye behind an eye patch or something, but you had to go and grow yourself a tail.

Harry flushed. He hadn't thought about something like an eye patch.

Well, other than proving that there is benefits in keeping ones options open and pack rats do win out in the end, let's move on.

Your next task shall have no clues, good look smart ass.

With that, the door slammed open and Harry, grumbling his own choice expletives, stalked through.

He halted as he entered some sort of grassy bower circled in white morning glories with a simple bench in the center on which a woman in a red flowing dress and russet curls was idly playing a lute.

"Well, aren't you a darling one?" the woman cooed as she beckoned him forward. Harry wearily approached, halting a few feet away. He was weary of anything at this point.

She tsked softly, "poor thing, just barely a babe, so young to be on such an arduous task."

Harry shrugged, politeness keeping him rooted to the spot for a moment since she didn't outright threaten him in some sort of manner.

"I've been around the block a few times," he mumbled, blushing when the woman smiled at him charmingly.

"Yes, that is not surprising; considering by the time that someone reaches my room they have known a great trial indeed, though you are the youngest to ever grace my bower."

He shifted uncomfortably.

She sighed, plucking an errant tune on her lute.

"To business then, more the pity with such fine youthful company, but needs must." She nodded to the red door lying in wait to her left framed in her flowered vines, "there lies the door to your final challenge. The door within that chamber will lead to your freedom from this place."

Harry was a little non-plused. That was…refreshingly informative.

"You may enter it at any time you wish; neither I, nor anything else in this place will stop you."

She sighed, plucking disconsolately on her lute.

Harry took one step towards the door, and then paused, turning to look back on the woman. She quickly hid her face in her hair, but he caught the look of naked longing and loneliness directed his way.

He took another step towards the door then halted at the little sigh.

"Um Miss," Harry finally gave into his twinge of conscience, and returned to stand in front of the woman, "if this seems to nosey don't bother answering, but why exactly are you upset?"

"I was once as free as you were," the woman sighed, "my name is Rosamund. (7) I was the daughter of a modestly prosperous merchant and my mother was a fine maker of quality hats…" Harry sensed a long story in the offing, so he took a seat across form her and listened.

"…I was their only daughter, my mother unable to carry any more children after myself, thus my father didn't have anyone else to pass along the family business to."

Judging by her attire that was during a time when the genders were decidedly one sided, Harry surmised.

"Father had a business partner and the man had 3 sons of his own. The two arranged for my marriage to the second eldest son, to merge their families and business and thus increase their prosperity. Unfortunately for them, during the betrothal party, a year before we were to be married, I met the servant boy of the second son. His name was Evander."

She sighed dreamily, sadly, bitterly.

Despite himself, Harry found himself leaning forward, fascinated by the unfolding tale.

"Defying convention, we soon fell in love and a month before my marriage, we gave into our urges and coupled together in a secluded part of mother's garden," she gestured around her, "in a garden much like this one. Unfortunately, my mother, who was of a strong opinion about family duty and social convention, spied our embrace.

Outraged she grabbed a scythe from the garden shed and descended upon my lover while we were in a post-coital daze. She massacred him while he was still atop me and dragged me inside afterwards.

After bathing she dragged me by my hair before my father and told him what I had done.

My father punished me severely and my father was honour bound to explain to my betrothed what had happened.

The wedding was called off, and I was banished to a convent soon after. My father named a distant cousin his heir instead and I never spoke to my parents again.

During the trip to the convent, my carriage broke down and I ventured away to attend to personal needs. When I emerged from the bushes, there was an old crone weaving by a willow tree. She beckoned me forth and asked me to hold her spool of wool.

Understand that I was still distraught and in shock after everything that had happened, and I was near mad with grief so when she handed me the spool, it tore at the gloves of my hands, then soon at the skin, scratching me horribly, she was knitting with brambles you see, but I did not drop it, I did not complain or cry or ask her to stop. I felt I deserved the pain. My lover had gotten killed because he had chosen to love me and with him gone, the pain was worse than the bramble spool.

When she was done, she revealed herself to be a fairy. She felt compassion and pity for my plight and gave me a choice."

Harry felt himself reaching into his bag and handed her one of his clean terry cloths.

"Thank you," she delicately dabbed at her eyes and face, sniffing.

"She offered me eternity in a place where I would know no more pain, and the chance to know valiant good hearted souls, the touch of passion, even if it were not my lover, she said that if I did, the child I had hoped for all my life would one day be born by one of my visitors.

She sighed, "the second choice was revenge upon my mother for killing my lover, and the third was giving up the child that was already growing in my belly when I entered the convent, as a nun cannot rear children of her own, being promised to God's service."

Harry suddenly realized that the woman had a slight swell to her tummy, a baby bump.

Seeing his glance she gave him a slight smile, resting a hand over her stomach.

"I had no wish to give up what remained of my lover, nor did I wish my mother harm despite what she had done. I chose the first option and from one blink to another, I was transported here. Here is where I have remained for a time so long that I have long lost the notion of its passage. The only thing that relieves the eternity is the small handful of suitors that make their way to me, and only a small portion of them were capable of quickening my child, but they have all failed."

Harry understood then why she was letting him go. He was too young to give her what she needed. He felt his face flush crimson causing the woman to chuckle, despite her melancholy.

Despite the rather awkward reasons, it relieved him to hear the bit of mirth.

He didn't cast another glance at the door for a long time as he decided to tell the lonely woman stories that he had heard and read and about his own travels. He felt he owed her at least that much, some company at least, after relating her story to him.

She seemed to enjoy the conversation, and the PBJ sandwiches he shared with her. She played him her lute, told him about her time growing up, about her later suitors, one of which was a robust amazon that had shown her the first delights of another woman's flesh and her realization that she enjoyed the bodies of both…then laughed at Harry's red face.

Soon though, their conversation began to putter down and they were left with nothing more to say to each other.

Harry regretfully stood up and said his goodbyes.

"Wait," she grabbed his sleeve, "please, stay with me. Your but a child, what awaits you beyond that door is sure death! I…can be your mother and we can remain here in company together…."

Harry sighed, gently unlatching her fingers from his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, feeling horrible when her face fell, "I can't, I…I need something beyond this eternal place. I'm sorry…"

If he had still been the boy he was when at the Dursley's he would have agreed without a blink, he had wanted nothing more than a real family once, but he had been too long on his own, and was used to freedom.

The woman's face crumpled and she sobbed softly, hands over her face.

Harry was nearly at the door when he heard her whisper "please, I am so alone…"

Harry felt like he was swallowing nails, but he clinched his fist. He couldn't stay, he knew that, but he couldn't just leave her like this, she had been the only nice thing in this place.

He whirled around intending to apologize again, when he felt the shifting weight of the egg attached to his chest.

He looked down, then back and the woman then down at the egg again.

He had no idea what type of egg it was, but he had upon occasion felt the shifting of something moving around inside it, so he was reasonably sure whatever it was is alive at least.

He looked back at the door.

He was unsure if he would need it or not once he got to the other side, chances were highly likely…but…

He sighed and walked back to the crying woman.

She stopped, looking up at him as he unloosed the straps, which had magically released him when he had made his decision, opening the top of the basket and pulled out the egg, grunting slightly at the weight, had the thing gotten bigger?

"Here," he said laying the egg in her lap.

Rosamund instinctively pulled the egg close on her lap to keep it from falling.

"If I am likely to die like you said, I might as well leave this with someone who would appreciate it…" he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "I'm not sure what it is exactly…"

His fumbling was cut off by a loud sharp crack as the egg suddenly cracked cleanly in two.

The woman gasped in shock when a squalling human baby was revealed.

The woman gathered the baby into her arms, looking stunned.

It was a baby girl with beautiful dark caramel colored skin, a tuft of coppery curls, and bright vermillion eyes that stared up at the woman curiously.

"I…its…"

Speechless her hand suddenly flew to her belly, and Harry was stunned to realize that her stomach was now flatter than it had been before.

"All this time…the crone was right…oh!" she lunged forward and grabbed Harry in a bear hug, being careful of her new daughter of course, "Thank you! Thank you!"

Harry squirmed out of her hold, blushing and nodded, before turning back to the door.

The woman didn't try to stop him this time. She was too engrossed in the infant in her arms.

Well, that was eventful, should a cigar be waiting for on the other side little daddy?

Harry flushed and flipped the door off.

If the door had been able to, he was sure the red plank of wood would be laughing at him.

"Let's get on with it then!" Harry growled.

So impatient to die are you? Well, no matter, it's your funeral. For this last trial you are required to give a gift. Whatever it may be, it must be given or suffer the consequences. Everything you need can be found in the room.

With that, Harry stepped into darkness.

Ooo ooo ooo

The final trial was in a large bowl-like room made entirely of dark marble so polished he could see himself in the floor and wall.

Crouched in the centre was the most frightening creature he had ever encountered yet.

It was a giant three headed winged dragon-snake. Each head had six pairs of eyes and three fangs respectively and the huge dark serrated wings he was sure would have blotted out the sun over an entire town of modest size had they been anywhere else (8).

"Well, it has been a long time since I have been graced with a visitor. Very few make it this far you understand."

The voice was odd, like it was coming from three different shaped vocal chords, so it sounded almost musical.

"Um…thanks?" Harry squeaked. Something very deep and visceral, something that spoke to the most primitive parts of him was quaking and telling him to turn around, turn around now!

Harry grit his teeth and pushed forward through his near mindless terror and took a shaky step forward, his tail curled around his leg.

A chuckle that made Harry long to slice off his ears filled the chamber.

"Such a brave child," the creature mused, settling itself more comfortably, "you are my youngest visitor, and one of only two who did not immediately pass out upon gazing upon me. Well, on to business then. First, do you know who I am?"

Harry took a moment to work through his fear and take in the creature again and trying to apply him to anything he had read about.

He shook his head when he drew a blank.

"I thought not," the creature hummed, "then introductions are in order. The Zoroastrians called me Azi Dahaka, I am Pain" the head to the left bowed, saying pain in a singular higher pitched voice, then the middle head bowed, "Agony," in a raspy singular voice, "Death" rattled another voice as the right head bowed.

"I was imprisoned by the hero of the time called Atta; I tried to overthrow a fellow by the name of Yima and now I am the obsolete destroyer of humanity excetra, excetra. What happened or will happen doesn't matter, time doesn't matter really, let's get on with my present."

"Present?" Harry squeeked.

"Mmm…yesss indeed!"

It wriggled eagerly.

"I'm sure the door explained to you that I will ask you for gifts?"

Harry nodded.

"And you are aware that if you are unable to give me even one of these, you shall never again see the light of day?"

Harry quaked but nodded again.

"Well, then, let's get on with it," Azi Dahaka lowered all three of its heads until Harry was level with nostrils twice the size of his torso, "I am a vain character. Pain, Agony, and Death are distinctly selfish experiences. Because of this, I crave the appeal to these. My tribute, should you even be able to manage it, is a moment of synchronous pain, agony, and death."

The creature was silent after that, as Harry goggled at the creature.

This was why both Rosamund and the door had said he would likely die. How was a bloke supposed to feel pain, emotional agony, and die at the same time? Whether he succeeded or not, he was still dead!

He was just about to panic when he caught his reflection in the floor again, in the walls, in the creature's eyes and its shiny scales.

Then he remembered the door's clue.

Everything he needed to survive was already in the room…his reflection! Him, he was all he needed! Aha!

"Alright" Harry said slowly and he began talking, fixing his mind on one incident that he thought might do, "when I was 7 years old, my uncle told me that if I did all my chores, was especially good and quiet and didn't cry or complain or otherwise be freakish, I would get a present for Christmas. I did what they asked. I never complained when I was left in my cupboard for days at a time without food, I never cried when Dudley and his friends hit me, I was quiet, respectful and did everything put before me and accepted punishments when they were given without a word."

"I was happy and excited when Christmas rolled around and uncle didn't send me to the cupboard right away. And there under the tree was a present wrapped up in Christmas paper for me. It had my name on it, I was so happy. "

Harry grimaced, rubbing his arm, he didn't like thinking back on the memory, but if he was to survive he had to speak about it.

"I opened my present to find a broken coat hanger."

Harry swallowed heavily, "my uncle told me that I should be grateful for that, he said that it was all I was worth getting."

"Interesting," the creature purred, "but how does an unworthy gift to yourself beget a worthy gift to me?"

Another hard swallow and Harry elaborated.

"The pain came from the hurt of my uncle's words caused me, and the remembrance of all the physical pain I had to endure to please him. The agony came from the realization that after everything I had done, the years of trying so hard to fit in, to be normal," he spat he word with disdain, "that it was all pointless, that was the most agonizing experience of my life."

"Hmmm…" the head that represented pain hissed, "yes that is pain," then the head that was agony rasped "yes that is agony."

Then third head rattled, "two met, but where is death in this tale?"

Harry turned his eyes fiercely on the six eyes of the right head.

"Death was to hope," he snarled, "in that moment any hope that I had nurtured, small as it was, that they would love me, accept me, that I would be a part of their family died in that moment. Afterwards, I had no illusions about my place within that house, and when I realized that I was an Abnormal, that I really was different from them, and I had the power to, I left, and never looked back. There is your death."

"Yes that is a death," the third head agreed, then all three heads spoke again, "clever little thing to know that death is not always the ending of the physical..."

"…But merely an end." Harry finished, "if there is one thing I understand in its intimacy, is that."

The creature purred delightedly, licking its lips as if savouring a rare treat, "I am pleased with this gift you may carry on."

With that the creature curled up into a giant ball and promptly went to sleep.

Shaking, Harry stumbled over to the red door.

Well, against all odds, you made it. Your trials are over.

Harry let out a relieved breath.

When you venture through this door you will find yourself back in the world that you left, though not in the same location. One can never return whence they came after all.

With that, the door flew open and Harry was sucked inside.