
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10033670.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M, Gen, F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger/Ron_Weasley
  Character:
      Dobby_(Harry_Potter), Draco_Malfoy, Albus_Dumbledore, Harry_Potter,
      Hermione_Granger, Lucius_Malfoy, Luna_Lovegood, Minerva_McGonagall,
      Neville_Longbottom, Other(s), Pansy_Parkinson, Petunia_Evans_Dursley, Ron
      Weasley, Severus_Snape, Blaise_Zabini, Peter_Pettigrew, Rita_Skeeter, Tom
      Riddle, Voldemort
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Slash_sex, Out_of_Character, Sexual_Content, Spoilers,
      Action/Adventure, Alternate_Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Bonding, Drama,
      First_Time, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-10-01 Completed: 2009-05-28 Chapters: 16/16 Words: 41391
****** Chasm of Darkness ******
by Twinfetish [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Harry has known Voldemort for as long as he can remember, and
     considers the Dark Lord to be his family. Harry wants nothing more
     than to side with him and destroy the deceitful light wizards and
     witches. But how can he, when Dumbledore had him bound like a dog?
     Slytherin!Harry. Re-sorting!
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Prologue *****
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned
by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury
Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is
being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: This is my first attempt at fanfiction. I hope you enjoy it. All poems are
written by me.
 
                                   Prologue
 
My heart is encased in ice
Did that happen when you died?
I feel my world crumbling
With the lightest touch
Like an illusion fading
The memories we made
Turn to smoke
They float away on the breeze
Sliding through my fingers
As I try and catch them
 
I never thought that anything could hurt worse then the Cruciatus Curse. The
pain of a thousand knives slicing my flesh, followed by a raging fire slowly
eating away at my nerves. The kind of pain that rips a scream from my already
abused throat, shredding it to pieces.
I never thought that I would have to see another person I considered family
die, I never thought that I would once again feel dead inside. I was wrong. Oh,
how I was wrong. Sirius. A simple name, and yet that was all it took to bring
me such pain. I was slowly suffocating in a realm of darkness that was
threatening to overtake me, and I could do nothing but watch as it consummed me
whole.
Anger coursed through my veins like molten lava. How dare he! How dare that
fucking bastard die? How dare he break into my carefully constructed world? How
dare he make me care for him, love him like the father I never had. He was
supposed to have stayed safe; he was supposed to have lived.
He went through life like it was a game…the next big adventure, never thinking
about what the consequences were, who he hurt, or how deep. But he loved me. I
know he did. He said he did, and that made it truth, right? Traitorous doubts
cloud my mind no matter what I try and tell myself, making it impossible to
tell what is real, and what is an illusion.
However I know one definite thing, the promise he made, soon became the
ultimate lie. The lie saying he would live, that we would live together, as a
family. When he wouldn’t have to hide any more from the bloody Ministry for
crimes he never committed.
He was just like the others. He was just like Mum, and Dad, and Cedric. He died
just like them, he made the hole in my heart expand, he caused the light in my
eyes to fade; he made me want to stop living. Because isn’t that what they all
do? Leave? Aren’t they the ones that put me into this darkened world?
It was their fault that I grew to care for them, love them; wish for them to be
safe. It was their fault another piece of me has died.
But I can’t take any more. I know that if I have one more loss, just one more
special person die, then I will too. I will be too broken to be fixed. Too
shattered to care. So, I will paint my once colorful world black. I will cover
everything with darkness. I will hide in the darkness because I cannot stand to
see the color red slowly painting over the white that was once my innocence.
The blood of a loved one’s death.
I am standing on a small narrow cliff overlooking an even deeper chasm of
darkness, and I’m praying to Merlin that the wind at my back will not push me
off. Praying that even for a little while longer, I can firmly plant my feet
and not give in to my weakness.
***** I Am A Puppet *****

Author's notes: Harry has known Voldemort all of his life, and longs to side
with the Dark Lord. However, he cannot seem to escape Dumbledore's control.
Will he manage to free himself and get revenge on the Light Side?
Slytherin!Harry Re-sorting! HPDM DMHP
===============================================================================
                                I am a puppet,
                        A wooden figure carved hollow.
                       Designed by someone else’s vision
                       Invisible strings always attached
                  Unseen hands controlling my every movement
                          Never knowing true freedom
                   Stuck in a world too large to see at once
                             Able to feel nothing
                                        
                                 Chapter One
I wanted to be alone; I wanted to disappear. I wanted to live with Mum, Dad and
Sirius. To forget all of the pain that this world ever caused me. However, I
knew those wishes would not be granted. It felt like Magic was laughing at my
pleas, laughing as I tried to stay afloat in the dangerous sea that was my
life, and laughed as I almost drowned, again and again.
They proclaim that I am the Chosen One. But I’m not. I have never felt I had
been chosen for anything other then misery, heartache, and loss.
I am a prisoner in my own life. With no way out. As Harry James Potter I am
ridiculed, praised, loved, and hated. I am expected to be perfect. I am forced,
to befriend those I would refuse, and refuse those I would befriend. I became
what I loathed most, a person who I am not.
Gryffindor. That one word changed my world yet again; it was the beginning of
the end. Gryffindor, how I hate that word, and anything associated with that
house. It is a house full of liars, betrayers, and hypocrites. But because I
was Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, I was expected to be in that
house. Without my permission, I was forced to conform to society. I was shoved
in a little mold and called “The Savior of the Wizarding World.”
Most of those decisions were some of the worst I have ever made. I know that. I
have always known that. I am required to fit in a twisted society that is
slowly warping me into something I never wished to become. A puppet.
I am trapped in a war, a war which; I want no part in. A war that started
because of an event that I couldn’t control, let alone remember. A war that
wasn’t as black and white, good and evil as it seemed.
Seeing the Headmaster stand I cut off my depressing thoughts, before I became
too distracted. “Welcome, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is just that,
forbidden. Also, I would like to announce that over the last few weeks, myself,
and the staff have been in various meetings thinking about this new school
year. We have luckily reached a decision. We have decided to have the very
first re-sort. It has come to this old man’s attention that…”
I blocked the rest of the speech as the words repeated in my mind like a broken
record, “Very first re-sort… very first re-sort.” Hope flared in my chest for
the first time in months. I had a chance. Glancing out of the corner of my eye,
my attention was caught by the beautiful colors that spellbound me. The colors
of deep emerald green lined with silver. This time…this time I would be where I
was supposed to have been all those years ago. Where I was welcomed, needed.
If…no…when I was placed in Slytherin I would get the only chance, I had for
freedom. And ironically, enough that only chance was in the hands of one
Severus Snape, Most Hated Professor at Hogwarts. If he refused me…then I would
be trapped.
“…rry? Harry!” A loud voice echoed from my right, drawing me out of my half
daze. “Are you even listening to me? You know that you cannot rely on me
forever! What will you do when I am gone? Hmmm? I know that you are having a
difficult time considering Sirius’ death, but you should really think more
about others, and not just yourself. Before you so rudely ignored him,
Professor Dumbledore was explaining about the reason behind the re-sort. All of
the sixth and seventh years get the opportunity, meaning they have to, try the
hat on again. According to what the hat was saying, and a bit of research, it
is highly possible that when we grow older, dormant abilities, or personalities
emerge, making it very difficult to stay in the same house that we were sorted
into when we were only eleven. Fascinating really. However I’m not sure I
really believe all of that hog-wash, since it was a hat who said it, but I for
one am not going to let them ruin my education just because I wasn’t in the
proper house. Most of what the hat spouts off has never helped us in the real
world, so I don’t see why they let a stupid piece of sewn together cloth sort
young supple minds like they do. They could be ruining a young child’s future
because of an important spell gone wrong! I wonder if any of us will be going
to another house? I’ll probably…”
“…Be sorted into Ravenclaw because of your insane obsession with books. I swear
‘Mione, that you would read during sex if you could.” Ron interjected before
she continued her rant on the pointless subject.
I bit back a snort at the well-aimed insult and focused my attention on the
names slowly being called. Soon, it would be my turn to sit on the three-legged
stool that held the worn, talking hat. It was only a matter of time before the
entire Great Hall that was full to the brim with students and teachers would
hear that one word. The one word that would prove that everything they thought
about me was wrong. I could imagine the shocked silence that would follow. The
disbelieving faces, and the pure joy that would flow through my mind.
“Boot, Terry!”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
“Brown, Lavender!”
“RAVENCLAW!”
“Corner, Michael!”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
“Malfoy, Draco!”
Ron and almost everyone else in the Great Hall rolled their eyes when his name
was called. There was no way that Malfoy could be anything but a Slytherin.
They should have made a list for those that they knew would stay in their
house, and those that would probably be moved to another, however they didn’t
want to get Howlers saying, “they were blocking a child’s true potential
because of bigoted views” Right? And if they had made that list then I would
have been on it as well. The next words spoken were of no surprise, and they
never would be.
“SLYTHERIN!”
“Potter, Harry!”
Whispers followed me up to the stool as I walked in my signature, slumped walk.
I knew what they were thinking. They were thinking that I was just like Malfoy.
That I was as much of a Gryffindor, as he was a Slytherin. Oh how wrong they
were. Lifting the hat from the stool, I sat and placed it yet again over my
head.
“Ah Mr. Potter! I knew that I would be seeing you again, ever since I was
forced to put you into Gryffindor all those years ago. Five long years of
torture at the hands…or should I say paws, of those dear Gryffindors. So good
of you to come back and be put in your proper place.”
“Forced?” Anger shot through me as thoughts that were not my own coursed their
way through my mind. Again! He had done it again… “I knew that Barmy Old Codger
had been up to something! You have given me yet another reason to loathe that
man!”
“Of course I was forced. Did you really think that you belonged in the Lion’s
Den when you are a true Snake? Come, come my dear boy, whatever gave you that
idea? Perhaps all of those lemon drops have addled your brain, though I
wouldn’t be surprised since they are laced with various potions… All that I
know is that it had been the dear old Headmaster’s idea, not mine, that’s for
sure. Because if you had been placed with your snakes you would have suffered
less pain, had less trials, had a place to belong. You would have been loved
dear boy. However that is all in the past, and sadly nothing can change the
past.” With something that almost sounded like a smirk the voice continued,
“You’ll be great in Slytherin you know. Trust your snakes, and Professor Snape,
and things might turn out okay in the future…Trust what is unseen.”
“SLYTHERIN!”
The shocked whispers of “What was going on?” and “What is taking so bloody
long?” ground to a screeching halt with that one word. Their silence was worth
more then anything I had ever received. After all the years of rumors whispered
behind my back, after all of the speculations of me being the Next Dark Lord,
after all of the name-calling, and pushing around, it was finally nice to have
silence. Oh, I knew that this would be in tomorrow’s newspaper. I had no doubt
about that little fact. What better way to de-frame the Gryffindor Golden Boy,
then to be placed in Slytherin, where all of the aspiring Death Eaters were?
Smirking I placed the hat back on the stool and stood before my former Head of
House, waiting for her to transfigure my badge into the one that she loathed.
Glancing to the left, I caught the blue eyes that were twinkling, belying the
signs of disappointment and anger hidden in their depths. I knew that if I
didn’t get Snape to agree to my request tonight that I would have to pay for my
disobedience. If he refused…if he denied my request, I would forever be shoved
into a mold, which I didn’t fit. A mold where the Great, Illustrious Albus
Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, turned an eleven year old boy into a
soldier, a soldier who became a puppet, a puppet who was carved hollow, a
puppet who was broken.
***** I Am A Jester *****

Author's notes: Dark!Harry
===============================================================================
                                 I am a Jester
                            A mask hiding true pain
                      Nobodies’ and yet everybody’s fool
                          My job is to entertain you
                       Not caring if this is what I want
                            Always alone in the end
                      Bound in a world of jokes and humor
                           Yet still unable to laugh
                                        
                                 Chapter Two
I knew it would come. The confrontation between him and I. I had hoped with all
of my might that I would be able to avoid him. But once again, the fates
decreed that my life, called Hell would once again make itself known. Make it
known that even though I had hope; I was still trapped.
“Ah, Harry, my dear boy. How was your summer?” Deceptive blue eyes twinkled, as
the Headmaster of Hogwarts addressed his most prized student and weapon.
Swallowing my hatred, I smiled at the old man that continued to control my life
without my permission. The one old man that had ruined my pathetic world, and
made it even worse, though I never thought it possible.
“It was perfectly normal.” I uttered. I knew he would get the message. He
always got the message from that one statement. A statement that I wished I
wouldn’t have to say, and yet every year I was once again forced to do
something against my will. “Nothing special happened.”
The Slytherins watched the exchange trying to figure out if that one sentence
had a hidden meaning. It did, though I knew that they would never in a million
years guess what it meant. Not one person present would ever think that
Dumbledore was capable of what he had been doing to me since… well since too
long.
“Good, my dear boy! That is excellent to hear, excellent to hear indeed.” The
soft words were hard to ignore, as his grandfatherly tone washed over the
students. Yes, he was an excellent actor.
“Well I’m sure you understand that I’m tired, Sir, It has been a long few
days.” I smiled innocently, trying not to look panicked at the penetrating
look.
“Of course. I cannot have you getting ill now can I? But before you go… you
forgot this the last time, you were in my office. You are lucky that I found it
when I did. It wouldn’t be wise to let it fall into the wrong hands.” Reaching
into his bright blue robes painted with disgustingly happy red suns, his
wrinkled old hand pulled out a simple holly wand.
A silent sound of disgust passed through my mind. You bloody fucking bastard!
Left it? I don’t fucking forget my wand. And I certainly wouldn’t leave it near
you! Quickly grabbing my wand without seeming suspicious, I nodded in
appreciation. Making my voice sound as sheep-minded as possible I turned to my
classmates, “Thank you for keeping it, Sir. After all, it wouldn’t be good for
my enemies to have gotten their filthy paws on it.” Smirking I followed the now
confused Slytherins to their dormitory.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dumbledore stared after the crowd of students that had left for the night. It
was going so well. He had supple minds to mold, and craft. To influence… no not
influence. Influence meant that he was doing something wrong. And he knew that
he; Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore could do no wrong. After all, he
had defeated the Darkest Wizard of the Century had he not? At least that was
the way the story goes…
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The common room had not changed since I’d snuck in my second year. A small set
of stairs led down into a wide pit that held cherry wood tables and plush
chairs that were used for homework, or just socializing. Earth tone rugs
carpeted the hard, cold stone floor, masking the ever-present chill of the
dungeons. The silver, snake, shaped lamp was still to the left of the
fireplace; the same, black leather couch was on the right, paired together with
two large comfortable navy blue chairs that you could just sink into and never
want to move.
The door slammed open causing me to turn. Ah yes, Snape was probably here to
give a lecture. Standing there in all his bat-like glory Snape spoke in a low,
harsh tone of voice.
“You have all been sorted into Slytherin, though I cannot fathom why some of
you miscreants where placed in my house.” Snape snapped his gaze to me as he
said… well more like spat his last comment. This might be worse then I first
thought. “And as such you will be expected to follow these simple rules. Rule
number one: Stick together. The rest of the pathetic school seems to think that
we are evil, vile Death Eaters, and though some may be…” A smirk appeared upon
his sallow face. “I expect you to work together to diffuse the fights that may
or may not happen with the other houses. This house will be like your family,
for lack of a more proficient word. You will sleep together, do homework
together, go to classes together, and eat together. There will be no fighting
amongst you. Is. That. Clear? I refuse to lead a house that is divided due to
petty squabbles between brainless children.”
“Rule two: Keep your opinions about the recent politics to yourself.” His eyes
swept through the crowd of sixth and seventh years. “I won’t tolerate views
being pushed on the younger more impressionable children. It is their decision
to make. You are all Pure-Bloods,” I held back a snort at that comment. I
didn’t think it would get me into his good graces if his precious speech were
interrupted by a mere half-blood after all. “So act like it!”
“Rule three: Don’t. Get. Caught. You are allowed to be out after curfew, play
pranks, and Merlin forbid, shag whomever you choose, though I may inquire after
your insanity and ship you off to St. Mungo’s depending on your chosen partner.
If for whatever reason you are caught, I refuse to help you. You are now a
Slytherin. Act like one. Should you lose house points… well far be it from me
to begrudge your fellow snakes the opportunity to have a few choice words with
you.”
“Should you have any pointless questions about the school, such as classes, or
homework, go to one of the Prefects for help, anything else can be brought to
me. I will be available Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays after dinner in my
office, if you don’t know where that is located, ask an upperclassman. If for
some reason my door is closed, that means I am brewing a potion that is
volatile. Do not disturb me, for I will not answer. While I am your Head of
House, I also have more important things to do than listen to pointless drivel,
so have a valid reason for visiting. I have many responsibilities.”
Snape turned to leave when I quickly made my way through the throng of people,
and ascended the steps. I patiently waited for him to acknowledge my presence.
This was it. This was my only chance.
“Potter!” His venomous tongue sliced through my name like a rusted knife
cutting through raw bloody meat.
Taking a deep breath, I bent down on one knee and pulled out the wand I had
recently just received for good behavior. Laying it across the palm of my hand,
I offered it to him hilt first. “I, Harry James Potter, Lord of the House of
Potter, Lord of the House of Black, ask thee Severus Snape, Master of Potions,
Lord of the House of Snape, Lord of the House of Prince for sanctuary in my
time of utmost need from any and all outside parties.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Silence filled the room as many stared in shock. Sanctuary? The former
Gryffindor Golden Boy was asking for sanctuary from his most hated Professor?
They all knew that their Head of House hated Potter with a passion. He loved to
torment and belittle the stupid boy. And yet, there he was… asking their
Professor for help. He was on his knees formally asking for his…Snape’s help!
If Professor Snape refused, then Potter would not be allowed to ask again. This
was his only chance. The Slytherins glanced nervously around. What had happened
that was so important that it would bring Potter to his knees in front of
Snape? No one could answer the question that hung like death in the air. And so
they waited. Hoping that something of worth would be eventually revealed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The silence was damning as I waited for his response. It seemed like I had been
on my knees for hours, when I knew that only a few minutes had passed. He was
going to refuse… he was going to refuse… The mantra repeated over and over in
my mind as the blood pounded in my ears so loud that I almost missed the next
words spoken:
“I, Severus Snape, Master of Potions, Lord of the House of Snape, Lord of the
House of Prince, grant thee, Harry James Potter, Lord of the House of Potter,
Lord of the House of Black, sanctuary in your time of utmost need from any and
all outside parties. On my magic, I so swear.”
I froze in shock at the words that bound us together through our magic. I had
asked for a simple promise, but he gave me a vow. A vow that would ensure that
I was safe; protected in his dungeons. After everything that my father and the
Marauders had done to him, after everything I had done to him, he had still
saved me. My eyes prickled with unshed tears as I realized for the first time,
just how much he loved my mother. My quiet voice carried in the still silence.
“Thank you.”
***** I Am A Savior *****
                                 I am a Savior
                        A powerful and important being
                         People cater to my every whim
                      They’re nothing but pawns in a game
                           My word is solely obeyed
                         Unfeeling towards any plight
                    Trapped in a world of lies and intrigue
                                 Trust no one
                                        
                                Chapter Three
The words printed in the morning Daily Prophet were blatantly loud, and
obvious. Since I had been recently re-sorted, I knew that those same words
would be written there, just like I knew what everyone’s reactions would be.
Oh, some would deny it, some would shake in fear, others would lose hope, but
most… most of them would say, “I knew it.” Like I had been going evil for
years, and perhaps I had. I had been waiting for the right time to break free
of the chains that that old crackpot put on me. And while I was one step
closer… I was nowhere near the finish line.
                     HARRY POTTER HEIR OF THE DARK LORD?!
 It has sadly come to this writer’s attention that last night our fated Savior
   of the Wizarding World was re-sorted into Slytheirn. And as we all know,
 Slytherin is the one House that has produced so many dark wizards and witches
                        that this world has ever seen.
Now, one might wonder why he would choose to side with the forces of the Dark.
Well perhaps it was the death of his murderous Godfather, Sirius Black, the man
known to have betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord. (See details of that night
                                   on pg.3)
         Perhaps that finally tipped him over the edge, into insanity?
  Or perhaps it was all of the expectations that were literally shoved upon a
                            young teen’s shoulders?
    However, I must question if he has always been on their side, and only
 pretending to care for the rest of us? It has been known for a few years that
with the death of Cedric Diggory that the Dark Lord was revived, however Potter
simply refuses to voice what really happened that fateful night. Perhaps Potter
joined You-Know-Who to escape and be perceived as a poor grieving hero. Making
                                 us trust him.
 One cannot be too careful around this dangerous young man, for dark times are
 ahead of us. And if Potter has indeed changed sides, then we may need all the
                               help we can get.
                                 Rita Skeeter
                            Special Correspondent
‘Tipped over the edge?’ I almost snarled at the words that were written in
front of me. Oh, I knew that they weren’t true… none of it was. And yet, they
had the bollocks to print that tripe. In a weird sense, it was almost funny.
They had just declared that they had no way of winning the war without me. Oh,
how joyous Old Voldie would be when he got this juicy piece of news. I would
have helped them… if it hadn’t been for that one event that changed not only my
views on the Wizarding World, and the so-called Light Side, but my future as
well.
Drawing out of my rage filled thoughts, I snorted at the looks that some had on
their faces. Like a bunch of mindless pigs being led to the slaughter.
“What’s so funny, Potter?” The words were filled with hatred and rage as Ron
Weasley stood up. “Do you find it funny that you fooled us into thinking that
you were actually worth something? That you were human? That you weren’t a
fucking murderous freak?”
I stared in shock at the words that poured out of my best mate's throat. So,
that’s what he really thought of me… I should have been more surprised then I
really was, but I wasn’t. I had suspected that he had been in on it from the
start. I was glad that for once in my life I wasn’t wrong. I had been prepared
for this moment for months, years, and surprisingly enough it didn’t hurt.
Nothing could hurt me where I was. My own, twisted world, of darkness. For if I
stayed in my little world, then nothing could harm me, nothing could make me
feel again, nothing could make me bleed.
A cold malicious smirk spread across my face, causing shocked whispers to flash
through the hall once again. It was an expression that; didn’t belong on the
Savior’s face. It was something that portrayed bitterness, hatred and haunted
nights for all to see. A few students tried to scoot away. They were all
stupid, innocent fools, that didn’t deserve to live. They lived in a world full
of soft touches, parents, love, and freedom. A world outside of the one I live
in. A world that would crumble. A world that every Slytherin knew of, but would
never know. We could only dream of the things, that they took for granted every
day of their pathetic lives.
My voice rang out through the Great Hall. “Yes. I find it funny. I think it is
hilarious that for years you have depended on me to save you. The Wizarding
World put me upon a pedestal. A pedestal that was slowly crumbling. Crumbling
from the weight of your judgment and your expectations. I am expected to be a
Gryffindor, I am expected to be perfect, I am expected to save you, and I am
expected to care.”
“I have done everything you have asked of me. I have killed, I have shunned
those I would call friends, I have conformed to the public, I have been
tortured, I have watched the only person I love die. I have devoted my life to
fight what you deem evil, to destroy what you say is wrong, and that it is for
the ‘Greater Good’. Yet, I have received nothing in return. Nothing of worth
has been given to me. The Wizarding World has deemed me worthy to be their
savior one minute, and then call me the new Dark Lord the next.
“I refuse to save a bunch of idiotic, hypocritical, bigoted people such as
yourself. So, when Lord Voldemort attacks this castle, when Lord Voldemort
takes over the Wizarding World I want you to remember that it wasn’t because I
failed. I want you to remember that it was because of your greed, your
jealousy, your pride, your selfishness, your fear, and your hatred. I want you
to remember that it was because you didn’t want to fight, not because you
couldn’t. I want you to remember it was because you made a teenage boy face
‘The Darkest Wizard the world has ever known since Grindelwald’ alone, year
after year, because you were too afraid to stand up to him. Too afraid to face
up to the mistakes that you made.” Standing up with a sneer gracing my masked
faced I turned to exit the hall, leaving behind these last few words. “I am not
your weapon to kill on command. I refuse to stain my hands red.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“Okay, What the hell just happened there?” Pansy queried.
“No fucking clue…” Blaise softly said as he thought about the words that still
resounded in his head. “He’s right you know.” Heads whipped towards his softly
spoken words.
“Right about what?” Nott demanded impatiently.
“Right about the Wizarding World. He grew up with Muggles correct?” At the nods
around the table he continued, “Then it makes sense that he is feeling bitter
about everything that he has been put through. He was taken from the Muggle
World and then thrust upon as he said ‘a pedestal’. We, or those other stupid
idiots demanded that he fight the Dark Lord. He was put in Gryffindor, made
friends with that Blood-Traitor and Mudblood, who in turn are very close with
the Headmaster. Since he was in Gryffindor we shunned him, bullied him, called
him names, and hated him…”
Draco interrupted Blaise’s spiel with, “I only started to taunt him after he
refused my hand in friendship. He dared to belittle the Malfoy name!” Ice-cold
silver eyes stared back into dark brown ones.
“But did he have a choice?” Blaise held up a hand to hold off Draco’s
objections. “Think about it a minute… over the past 5 years has he ever
verbally attack you first? Has he ever gone out of his way to ridicule you,
physically attack you, hex you, make your life absolute Hell?”
Draco and the others around him stared at Blaise in shock at the truth of his
words. He was right. They could not recall one instance where Potter was the
one who started the fights. He avoided them in the halls as much as possible,
sat on the other side of the room in classes, and he almost never talked to
them unless they spoke first. “Now answer me this: Did he has a choice?”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dumbledore was not in a good mood right now. He was mad, pissed, furious, one
second short of killing someone! How dare that impudent brat spout that garbage
during breakfast! In the Great Hall of all places! He could still see the cogs
working in some of the younger year’s minds. He had started some of them
thinking. Thinking about what was good, and what was evil, and that was
unacceptable! Only he was allowed to tell them what to think, and how to act.
They were his precious paw… students that he could mold into fine young wea…
witches and wizards that would someday make the Wizarding World a better, much
better place.
His control of the young man was slipping. He didn’t know how… but it was. He
must have done something last night. Racking his brain for the answer just made
him sigh in frustration. Nothing, he could think of nothing that Har… no Potter
could have done to make his impeccable control falter for even a second. After
all, the runes had been researched and changed every year to make them more
potent. Perhaps he would already have to carve new ones? Shaking his head at
that stupid thought, he went in search of his favorite student. One Harry James
Potter.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Dumbledore roared when he caught
up to Harry as he walked back to the dungeons. He knew that no one was around
since they were all still at breakfast, but erected a silencing barrier just in
case. He grabbed his arm roughly, whirling him around to look into his eyes.
The perfect windows of the soul. “Did you think that you wouldn’t be punished
for what you did last night and this morning? Oh how foolish you have been.
Apparently, that lesson over the last hols, and summer didn’t beat it into you.
You’ve grown slack over the years.”
Dumbledore took out his wand and placed it against Harry’s neck and muttered
something almost lyrical under his breath. He almost smiled at the look of pain
that twisted Harry’s features. It was a beautiful look for the boy. He waited
until a cry of pure agony was ripped from his throat. Holding his wand in place
for a minute, he slowly drew it away. Not wanting to silence the screams yet.
“You are now on level two.” Dumbledore took a calming breath and replied in a
grandfatherly tone. “I just want to help you my dear boy,” ignoring the flinch
the last word produced he continued, “You are my favorite student and I don’t
want you to stray from the right side. They’ll see the truth in a few days; so
don’t worry what the papers say. You need to be more careful with what you say.
Okay? We can’t have everyone believing that you turned evil now, can we?” At
the reluctant nod from Harry, he released him and took a step back. “Now Ronald
may be hot-headed but I want you to try and reason with him. Even he will come
around, if given the chance. You are not to fight with him under any
circumstances. Is. That. Clear?”
“Yes, sir!” He replied with conviction.
“Good Boy.” Dumbledore quickly patted him on the head and left him standing in
the hall while gloating over his most recent victory. Harry may have slipped
that once, but he had him well in hand. He would not escape the prison that he
had so carefully constructed over the years.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
No one noticed as a pair of dark eyes watched the whole scene from the shadows.
No one noticed the look of horror that was pasted on their face as they took in
the malicious smile that was gracing the Headmaster’s once pleasant facade. No
one noticed as the eyes watched the Savior of the Wizarding World punch the
wall, before sliding down to huddle in a ball to cry. It wasn’t supposed to be
like this. The Headmaster wasn’t supposed to be capable of evil thoughts, let
alone torture. The Savior wasn’t supposed to be a boy broken at the hands of a
true madman. Now the real question was… would anyone believe them?
***** The Lonely Road *****
                           The lonely road I travel
                          Is just beyond the horizon
                         Cast aside the thorns of life
                         That taints the moon crimson
                    Soaked with the essence of their hatred
                                  Another lie
                                  Another day
                           Please break these chains
                             They bind me to Hell
                                        
                                 Chapter Four
The classes were just the same as they always were. There were still people
calling me dark, taunting me, and calling me a murderer. I was sadly used to it
all. Sitting in History of Magic I sighed in a small amount of relief as I saw
the Slytherins sit around me. Like they were trying to protect me from their
hateful barbs, which was ridiculous since the Slytherins hated me as well. And
why shouldn’t they? We had been enemies for over five years. It wasn’t going to
just disappear overnight like smoke wafting through a vent. No, our fights had
been much stronger and more dangerous then simple smoke. Unless it was
poisonous smoke.
Rubbing my hands over my sore throat with a slightly trembling hand, I coughed.
I had missed my first class due to what that bastard had done to me.
Punishment, which is what he called it. I was at a level two. And if I didn’t
plan carefully, I would soon be at a level three which, I knew I didn’t want to
be at. It was the second to highest setting there was. It would make it nearly
impossible to be free of him, and that was hard enough already. The fifth
level… well I would become a mindless weapon, if I were lucky.
“…tter. Potter!” The voice to my left sounded louder.
Turning my head, I stared into bright… worried? … silver eyes. “Malfoy?” My
voice was quiet and bordering on rude. Damn it! I didn’t want to act like this!
I liked Malfoy! I wanted to be able to hold conversations with him, laugh with
him, do homework together… wow that was sadly sappy and corny at the same time.
And once again, it was because of Dumbledore. It… hell everything was his
fault.
I knew it was the wrong tone of voice when his eyes turned to ice in a second
flat. I sighed at this look. I was tired of it all. I was tired of having to
spit out hateful words every time I was near the Slytherins. I was tired of
yelling, and standing up for friends that I hated. Sure, I only had to do it
when they spoke first, but it was still exhausting, since they always had
something to say. I smirked in my head at that. Dumbledore was sadly lacking
the proper words to command me to do anything. However, I accidentally forget
to tell him so. Tragic.
“I was simply curious as to why you were coughing like an old, sick cat about
to die.” He retorted.
“I don’t see Professor McGonagall or Mrs. Norris anywhere…” I laughingly said.
The people around me gave a quick burst of laughter before once again the
question was asked. “Don’t worry. If the Dark Lord can’t kill me, then I doubt
a simple cold will.”
Sharp glances were passed my way. What? What had I…oh shit! I said Dark Lord
instead of Voldemort. Sighing at my unintentional slip I shrugged. What was I
to say? That I respected the man? That he had been the only light in my world
for the past ten years besides Sirius? That I had known him before I came to
the Wizarding World? And that Dumbledore took my light away? Plunging my world
for the second time into darkness. They wouldn’t have believed me. So, I once
again stayed silent. Once again, I ignored their curious stares, and persistent
questions. For I didn’t want to harm those, I wished to be friends with.
Leaning back in the wooden chair, I barely hid a wince as pain shot up my back,
reminding me of the bloody headmaster. That little torture scene from earlier
was to prove that he could cause me even more pain when he was away. Well that
bastard had succeeded. Glancing up at the clock I almost jumped for joy when it
read five minutes until class was dismissed. Five more minutes and I could skip
my next class. It was Divination anyway, and nothing ever happened in that
class besides the crazy fraud predicting my death.
As the blessed bell rang for class to end, I quickly gathered my things and
headed towards the dungeons. Keeping my head down I didn’t notice the surprised
stares of my fellow Slytherins or one redhead following me until I was slammed
up against the cold hard wall.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” I coldly demanded of the traitor in
front of me. I had already been pissed off from the ‘warning’ this morning. I
sure as bloody hell didn’t want Dumbledore to make that true. However, the
current evidence was right in front of me. He was testing me. I briefly
wondered if Ron was under the same spell that I was, or if he had chosen his
path of his own free will. Putting a mask, though it was real to a point, of
deep loathing on my slightly pained face I continued, “Let. Go. Of. Me.
Weasel.”
“It’s your fault.” Bellowed a red faced Ron that matched perfectly with his
hair. “It is your fault that the war hasn’t ended. That people keep dying. It
is because you don’t want to fight. It is because you are a coward that joined
You-Know-Who. You betrayed us for the ‘honor’ of being one of his arse-kissing
slaves. You should have died with your parents!”
I hissed in anger. This filthy Blood-Traitor had the bollocks to insult the
only person who had tried to free me from Dumblewhore’s control. The only
person who knew what Dumblewhore was really like, and what he did to not only
me, but past students as well. “I have been your best mate for the past five
years and in those five years you have turned on me for the second time. You
accused me of putting my name in the damned goblet, saying I did it for glory.
And you now accuse me of joining Voldemort, and pathetically I don’t think you
would care if I denied it to my grave. I have saved your ungrateful arse,
because you wanted to help me defeat the ‘Darkest Wizard’ and that of the…
Granger.”
“I rescued Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets after she was possessed with the
soul of Tom Riddle, I gave Fred and George the money to start their store after
I won the Triwizard Tournament, and I saved your father from Nagini after I had
had a vision depicting his death, yet here you stand, calling me dark, telling
me that if I hadn’t lived everything would have been better. Hell you never
would have been born! I never wanted to be your friend. I was forced. Did you
really think that I, Harry James Potter, would befriend a Mudblood, and Blood-
Traitor? I would rather clean all the bathrooms in Hogwarts with my tongue,
then be friends with the likes of you!” Gasps and laughter from the Slytherins
rang out in the hall. They had been waiting off to the side, with their wands
in their hands, to see if I needed help doing away with the Weasel. It was
thoughtful of them.
His rage filled words of, “You bloody son of a bitch!” was followed by a punch
that I wasn’t able to dodge. I knew it had been coming. After all, he liked to
use his fists.
Wincing at the added pressure to my tortured back, I pulled up one knee and
rammed it into his stomach, making him release me. Dropping to the floor I
smirked at his pain filled grunt. He really was weak. “Never touch me again!”
Holding my bloody nose with a handkerchief that was passed to me by Pansy I
vaguely nodded in thanks. Closing my eyes briefly, I took a deep breath. I
hated the color of blood. It reminded me too much of what I had lost.
The shouts of three arriving teachers (Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape)
halted any other hostile activities that were about to occur between the
Slytherins, and a few Gryffindors that had wandered over due to the noise.
“What is going on here?” Dumbledore demanded in a shocked and angry tone.
A brave and foolish Gryffindor stepped forward. “Harry attacked Ron,
Headmaster.”
Everyone watched as an enraged Dumbledore turned his gaze to Harry Potter. His
frigid tone caused many to stare in shock and gasp at the way the ex-Gryffindor
and favorite student of the headmaster was being treated. “What did I tell you
about fighting?”
“I wasn’t fighting, Sir! I was defending myself.” I smirked at his narrowed
look. Once again, I had found a way around his order this morning. He really
should have thought that order through. If I had been fighting with intent
other then to make him release me, level two would have kicked in with the
punishment, however in my mind I was only defending myself from more pain. He
had much to learn. Snorting, and wincing in pain, I quietly thought… and he
said that I was getting slack. He was getting too arrogant, to believe that I
wouldn’t come up with ways to demean his ‘control’ over me.
“I believe that that is the same as fighting my dear boy.” The Headmaster
replied in a grandfatherly tone.
It wasn’t going to work. He wouldn’t win this round. “Fighting: Verb. 1.
Tending or meaning to stir up a fight or hostility. 2. To attempt to harm or
gain power over an adversary by blows or with weapons. 3. Ability, will, or
inclination to cause harm.
“Defend: Verb. 1. To protect against an attack or resist strongly. 2. To make
or keep safe from danger, attack, or harm. 3. To ward off attack from; guard
against assault or injury.” Watching as he almost lost his mask of forced calm
was worth the pain I was currently going through. “I believe I was defending,
Sir.”
Snape’s silky voice carried through the air, “10 points from Gryffindor for
fighting in the halls. 10 points from Gryffindor for injuring another student,
and detention for a week.” He turned his black eyes to me and paused giving me
an appraising look before saying, “15 points to Slytherin for defending
yourself from assault and injuring the student in the process. Come with me.”
“You cannot give points for injuring another student Severus!” The
Transfiguration Professor objected. “He should have a week of detentions as
well! With Filch.”
“He is now in my house!” Snape spat. “I’ll punish him how I see fit. Now why
don’t you see to it that idiotic lion makes it to the infirmary before my
Slytherins decide to take revenge for injuring one of their own.” With a smirk,
he turned on his heel and walked further into the dungeons and into his office
with me following closely behind.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“Sit.” Snape ordered once we were ensconced safely in his office.
“Congratulations on getting injured on your second day at school. I believe
that is a new record for you. What was that defending with the Weasley?”
“He came up behind me, spouting that everything was all my fault, and if I
didn’t fight then the world would fall into darkness. Or something like that.
That the world would have been a better place if I hadn’t been born.”
An eyebrow rose in surprise. “Hard to believe that my best mate would say such
things, but then again… he is a Gryffindor.” I couldn’t keep the sneer out of
my voice when I said the last word.
“Indeed. So, it seems like the Golden Trio is finished? That is…regrettable.”
“There never was a Golden Trio. It was only what the world wanted to see, not
what really was.” I retorted. I hadn’t come here to be questioned about things
Snape didn’t deserve to know. He would probably rejoice about my predicament. I
cut off more traitorous thoughts. He might rejoice, but he was all I had, at
the moment. And I refused to let him have information that was not crucial to
our relationship.
“However this is not the reason why I brought you here. I really don’t care if
you were friends or if you were ordered to be his friend.” He paused, making me
ask myself what he really knew. Sure, I had shouted it in the hall, but he
sounded like he had important information. At this point, I had to remind
myself that he also was a Slytherin. “I wanted to bring up the issue of your,
sanctuary.”
I froze in my seat. He couldn’t take it back could he? I racked my brain for
references to people in the past who had their sanctuary revoked, and could
find none. However, I was Harry Potter, therefore anything could happen. I was
the impossible.
“The ceremony that we performed last night was in fact the correct one, however
it seems not as potent as it should be. Today attested to that. You should have
been safe in my dungeons regardless of my presence. Can you think of anything
that could, say interfere, with that vow?”
Bloody Hell! It didn’t work? Why the fuck not? It should have overpowered
Dumbledore’s runes. Sighing I decided that I would once again have to research
the runes and try to find either the counter or another way to overpower the
bloody things. The sanctuary might work in the Common Room, but it looked like
it was useless everywhere else.
I kept my eyes lowered though I was halfway decent with Occlumency he would
have been able to read my eyes in seconds. My eyes gave me away almost every
time. “No Sir,” My voice whispered. “I don’t.”
“Potter,” His voice paused causing me to look up in surprise. Snape closed his
mouth, gritting his teeth like he was trying to justify his next few words.
“Should you ever find the reason that it failed, I demand that you bring it to
me so we can rectify the situation before you do what you have been trying to
do since your first year at Hogwarts. Getting yourself killed.”
I laughed, “Don’t worry, Sir, I still have two years left. I’m sure I’ll have
enough spare time, if Vol… if The Dark Lord doesn’t try first. You never know,
he just might succeed.”
“Indeed.” He said handing me a Blood-Replenishing Potion, and Pain Potion while
smirking.
“What is my punishment, Sir?” I inquired.
“I already told you. You must tell me the cause for the failure of the ceremony
immediately when you find the answer.”
“B…But I don’t know what you are talking about, Sir” I added the last hastily.
Smirking he looked into my bright green eyes and responded. “You don’t think I
believe that, do you?”
***** Beware The Boogeyman *****
                             Beware the Boogeyman
                              He is real not myth
                           Devoid of human emotions
                      He attacks when you are vulnerable
                        A simple shadow in the darkness
                               A blur in history
                            Blood stains his hands.
                                        
                                 Chapter Five
“Would you like a Lemon Drop, or some tea?” Dumbledore questioned looking at
the top student at Hogwarts.
“Yes, tea please.” Hermione Granger responded. It was odd that she had been
called up to his office on only the second day back at school. Normally he gave
her more time to get settled, or he waited until the second semester. Something
must have gone wrong.
Quickly snapping his fingers Dumbledore placed an order for two cups of Earl
Grey Tea to be brought up. “Are you sure that you researched the correct
runes?” He demanded getting straight to the point.
“I…I don’t know what you mean Professor. I wouldn’t mess something of this
magnitude up. This has to do with the fate of the Wizarding World! I went to
the library nearly every day to look them up and their true purpose and
meaning. I had to use the excuse of wanting to take Ancient Runes to get Ronald
to leave me alone, but I know that I read the correct books. I always double,
and sometimes even triple check them to make sure that they would work.” She
responded upset that he would think she would purposely interfere in the war,
letting the Dark Side get the advantage. She might have been a nosy busy body
but that was one area she wouldn’t tread. She would play behind the lines.
“Ah, I’m sorry my dear. It is just that Potter has grown some backbone in the
last few months. He seems to be overpowering the runes. Which is impossible
correct?” He glanced over his half-moon spectacles at the frizzy, brown-haired
girl in front of him.
Nodding in response, she quietly sipped her hot tea after adding two spoons of
the required sugar to make it have at least some taste. “Could it be because he
is getting closer to his Majority? I’ve read that the year before a witch or
wizard turns 17 the witch or wizard will gain some of their power gradually,
instead of all at once. That makes it easier for the body to get used to the
surge of power later on. It was clinically proven that if the surge happened
all at once that the body could reject the power causing a huge explosion. One
such explosion, completely destroyed Atlantis.”
Waiting for her spiel to end Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. That
certainly was possible, but it didn’t make sense. It should have started over
the summer, and not before. Potter, had tried to hide the fact of him
overpowering the runes, but Dumbledore knew what to look for. He thought that
if he blocked his connection to Tom then it would have gone back to normal.
However, that was not the case. It seemed as if he either got another source of
power last night, or the runes were failing.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione Granger wanted to glare at the man in front of her. He was a teacher.
A person of great rank. He had defeated Grindelwald, and yet he didn’t use his
power for good. The power used to teach young children was making them mindless
drones. He was creating an army of people that would one day go out into the
Wizarding World, and shape it into what he wanted it to be. Not what it should
be.
Oh, she had changed the runes. Made them more supple to whatever Harry was
thinking, however it would take time for them to truly work. Dumbledore still
had power over some of them. If she had taken two of the runes out of the
inscription then he would have known that she wasn’t under his power anymore.
It may have taken her five long years, but she could finally see what she had
done to her best friend. What she had been forced to do. The only problem was
that she didn’t think that Harry would take her or Ron back anymore. Ron, and
she had betrayed him one to many times. And while Ron didn’t know what she had
been doing, he had been going along with it because he loved her.
She smiled bitterly to herself. Love, that was always the one thing that got
taken away from Harry. She had loved Harry like a brother, so she had done what
she had thought was right, Sirius had loved Harry, like a father, and so he was
murdered. And yet, here Albus-bloody-Dumbledore stood proclaiming that love
would defeat the Dark Lord. The prophecy was the ramblings of an insane old
man, wishing that he had the power to create a utopia in his name. A world
where everyone was his. If, the prophecy was true, then it was him that was the
Dark Lord, not Voldemort.
However, she knew that she couldn’t speak these thoughts. Harry wouldn’t
listen, the Slytherins would probably hex her, and Dumbledore, would probably
kill her. No, she couldn’t tell anyone. It would have to become another secret
that she held close to her heart, next to the secret that she still treasured,
one Harry James Potter.
She had a role to play in this war. One of books, betrayal, and cleverness. One
that she herself had gotten into that day six years ago…
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The knocking at Hermione Granger’s house was unexpected. Her father and mother
were both still at work, and she didn’t have any friends planning to come over
for the day, even though it was a school holiday. She had wanted to study her
Science notes since they had a test during first period. Running down the
stairs of their two-story house, she quickly walked to the front door.
“May I help you?” She questioned seeing an old man wearing a bright purple
dress with unicorns on it.
“Are you Miss. Hermione Granger?” His blue eyes twinkled in joy.
“Yes, I am she. May I help you?”
“I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. I have come here with an offer.”
Looking at the weird old man in the dress, she smiled condescendingly. “Magic
doesn’t exist.” Hermione moved to shut the door when he replied:
“Ah my dear but it does. Here take this book. Read it and decide for yourself
whether it exists or not.” He smiled innocently at the small ten-year-old girl
before him. “I’ll be back in a few days. We can discuss the probability of
magic when I return. When you are ready to accept that it does exist I will
then prove to you that it does.”
“Why not just prove that it does now?” She demanded confused with the way the
conversation was going.
A deep light hearted chuckle sounded in the dull afternoon. “But where would be
the adventure in that dear girl. The knowledge could be yours, a whole new
world to explore, spells to learn, and more opportunities then you can imagine,
are written in that book in your hand. Read it and you will find your future my
dear child.” Rummaging in the pockets of his dress he pulled out a small clear
bag of yellow candies. “Lemon Drop?”
“My parents told me not to take candy from strangers.” Hermione replied.
“Ah.” He nodded at the wise response, even if it was drilled into her head at a
young age. That would be perfect. Someone who would follow the one in charge,
with no questions asked. He smiled again and bade her goodbye, slowly walking
down the street, ignoring the glances from the other pedestrians.
Sighing in frustration Hermione closed the door planning to ignore the visit
and concentrate on her homework. Throwing the book on her bed, she quickly got
to work on her Science.
“Read and decide for yourself.”
“Magic…”
“Find your future…”
“Stupid old man, making me think about something that could never exist.”
Throwing her hands up in surrender she climbed onto her double bed littered
with plushies and pillows, and grabbed the pristine book. Reading the title,
she frowned. “ Hmmm… Hogwarts: A History.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
His next words brought her out of the past and into the current situation,
which was faking her way through the rest of the visit. Taking another sip of
her lukewarm tea, she resolved herself to continue on her chosen path.
“I would like for you to keep an eye on young Mr. Potter for the time being,
while you search for new runes. I’m not saying that you haven’t done an
excellent job, for you have dear child.” Clenching her hand around the teacup
was all she could do to show her anger at those words. They were words that she
didn’t want to hear. Words that she wished she never would have to hear. “I
believe that the runes you may have picked were lesser in strength, or he
really has turned to the Dark Side” Dumbledore proclaimed dramatically.
Bowing her head and rolling her eyes, she bit her lip in apparent distress. “Do
you really think that Harry could have turned to his parent’s killer? Do you
really think that he would condone the killing of Muggleborns?” She wanted to
know. She needed to know if he really thought that, or if he was just saying
it. Lifting her head once again, she looked into his bright baby blue eyes and
almost blanched when his reply came.
“Anything is possible my dear. Anything.” His sad voice mocked the words. He
wasn’t sad about that fact. Or if he was, it was because he wouldn’t have his
perfect little weapon to fight for him any more. No, he wasn’t upset that Harry
might have turned to the Dark Side. He was livid that his puppet might soon be
out of his reach.
Nodding in false acquiescence she slowly stood after she finished her cold tea.
“I understand Headmaster. I promise that I will play my part in this war.”
Heading towards the door leading to the stairs, she smiled a true, brilliant
smile for the first time in over two years. She may have been naive but she
wasn’t stupid. Not anymore. I will play the role that will set Harry free from
your grasp.
***** Sharp As Knives *****
                      Tongues sharp as knives draw blood
                   Lies from unknown lips deceive and cheat
               Screams go unheard like a mime acting out a scene
                           Am I real or an illusion?
                      I cannot recall the good old days,
                   Like freedom, it has eluded me yet again
                                        
                                 Chapter Six
I sighed in frustration as I slammed the useless book shut. It had been two
weeks. Two long mediocre weeks since I had vowed to look up the runes and try
to find out what went wrong with the ceremony. And I was not one step closer.
He must have removed all of the books pertaining to the symbols that held me
under his control. It had been a very smart move, but very annoying as well.
At this rate, it could take months, even years to break free. And that was not
something I was willing to concede. It looked like I would have to order some
of the tomes from Flourish & Blotts, or try and get in contact with him, if I
was going to get anywhere. Glancing at the floating numbers appearing above my
bed I groaned. It was time for yet another pointless day of boring classes.
Quickly getting ready and exchanging the now worthless tome for another one in
my trunk I decided to wait in the Common Room for my other housemates so we
could head to breakfast. Oh, we weren’t close by any means. I mostly stayed
away from them as much as possible. I still had a few issues to take care of
before I could really interact with my fellow snakes.
It seemed like in the past two weeks it was established that if I had any sort
of book in my hands, meaning, Quidditch_Through_The_Ages, that I was not to be
disturbed, but that also might have been for the one incident with Pansy.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Not paying attention to all of the mindless chatter going on around me I
scanned the following passage for any ideas on how to escape from Dumbledore’s
clutches.
Runic Magick is one of the most ancient and raw of magicks. It is also very
dangerous to delve into. Runic Magick was long before banned by the other
Magical Creatures that inhabit the Wizarding World saying that it caused more
repercussions than good results. One such incident stripped a Vampire of their
immunity to Sunlight, causing him to burst into flames. Now it is not known if
the whole of the Vampire race was cursed as well, for it is impossible to get
accurate research on that particular species. It is also unknown what Runic
Magick the Vampire was performing at the time of said incident. However, Merlin
decided that it could be very valuable to wizards since he trusted witches, and
wizards to know when to stop, and resist the addiction to such Magick. This
caused a huge rift in the relationships between the Wizarding World and the
Magical Creature World…
“Potter what are you reading?”
Breaking off from reading more of the text, I glanced up to see Pansy, Draco,
and Blaise looking at my book curiously. It was a known fact that I hated to
read, or study, but then again everyone also thought that I was a Gryffindor as
well. I almost felt sorry for them. They probably saw me as a weird exhibit.
One that they would just watch and see what astonishing stunt I would do next.
“What does the title say?” I politely inquired holding my book up a little
higher.
“Quidditch Through The Ages.” She promptly responded.
Smirking I responded sarcastically. “Congratulations! You can now read! That
had always been one of the Seven Great Mysteries of Hogwarts: Whether or not
Slytherins knew how to read. I can now report to the Headmaster that he has
nothing to worry about. Thank you for making it possible for him, and me to
sleep easier at night. I truly am in your debt.” I congratulated myself for
thinking to change not only the cover of the books I read to: Quidditch_Through
The_Ages, but the pages would looks exactly like those from the original book
as well. It wouldn’t do for me to be seen walking around with highly illegal
texts of Runic Magick.
“You didn’t have to be a complete prick about it! I was simply curious!” Pansy
retorted incensed.
“Curiosity killed the cat…or snake in your case. To make your life easier it
would be better for you to mind your own damned business.” Ignoring them, I
started to read the text again, hoping that I would find something even
remotely helpful. I was so set on pretending to ignore them that the next
question took me by surprise.
“What about your life?” She questioned not daunted by my hard rebuttal.
“Is none of your business yet again. You seem to be either hard of hearing or
extremely stupid. Great another problem for the Headmaster to worry about… oh
wait you serve another Master don’t you?” I spoke in a mocking voice. “I may be
a Slytheirn, but I am not your friend, so save your false concern, and interest
for someone who really cares. Sod Off!”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I hated having to wait for the others. It made me have to depend on them, even
if it was only for a short time. Over the past years, I learned to never depend
on someone, unless I wanted to set myself up for more heartbreak, and betrayal.
Ignoring the speculative glances tossed my way I continued to read my tome as
we walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. It had started as one of the worst
days I’d had in a long time, and something told me it was only going to get
worse.
“It is the Weaver, Harry.” A soft dreamy voice spoke out of the blue.
Quickly turning to the left I spotted a wide-awake Luna swaying to a tune that
only she could hear. Her blonde hair threaded with beads, and ribbons gently
clicked a song as she waited for my response.
“The Weaver, Luna?” I questioned in confusion. The other Slytherins were frozen
with shock that I was actually talking to her. She was Loony Lovegood after
all.
Nodding happily she repeated. “It is the bucktoothed Weaver that likes the
symbols. It loves to live in dusty libraries, and eat tomes because they are
full of knowledge. I’ve seen it many times, though I’ve not found a way to stop
it from either using the symbols or eating the tomes.” She voice trailed off in
sadness.
Going over the information that she had given me, I thanked her, after patting
her shoulder in comfort. She truly was a great, loyal friend. She was a bit
eccentric, but that was who she was, and I wouldn’t change her for anything.
“I’ll look out for the Weaver, are there any more Weavers or Weevils helping
the Weavers eat the knowledge?” I politely inquired now curious.
“Not that I’ve seen, but they have been known to have the power of
invisibility. The Weevil is known for constant migration. They never like to
settle down for too long. They do love leather, and wood though. Nothing
special really. Well I must be going I have a pop quiz in Potions later today…”
With a slow twirl, she danced off in the main direction of the Great Hall.
Wishing I had my notebook, so I could write down the information, I continued
to the Great Hall. If she was correct, then I had more problems to worry about.
I had thought that it was only Dumbledore, but it seemed that I was wrong yet
again. He had roped Granger and possibly the Weasel in on the whole scheme.
Clenching my teeth, I resolved myself to not look at the offending parties. I
knew that before Hogwarts, he had control over me, and continued to when I
arrived here, but I had sincerely hoped for a while that they had befriended me
for me. It was yet another lie, added to the story of my pathetic life.
Grabbing some pancakes and bangers I absently ate my breakfast as I read more
of the tome I had selected for the day. I knew it would be pointless, but I
needed to do something. I needed to not feel useless, and that feeling was
growing steadily as every day passed with no results to show for all of the
searching I had done.
Feeling a dark presence behind me, I turned, coming face to robe, with the bane
of my existence. Albus Dumbledore. Bugger! I knew today was going to go from
bad to worse.
“Ah reading Quidditch Through The Ages? That is your favorite book am I not
correct?” the Headmaster questioned conversationally.
Nodding I replied in a slightly mournful voice. “Yeah, since the ban from
Quidditch in my fifth year, this is the closest to the game that I can get. I
understand and everything, but it was still hard to give up.”
The Headmaster’s eyes melted into concern, and sympathy. “I understand Harry,
however there are more important things then Quidditch. I know that you will
find what you most desire in life, and go for it with all of your might.”
Dumbledore stated meaning defeating Voldemort and fulfilling my destiny.
My mind brought forth a different situation. Escaping him. He was correct on
one thing though. I am going to fight him with all of my might, and I will come
out on top. It would do me no good to start and get depressed, when there was
so much at stake. I would defeat the old man, and gain my freedom. That said I
knew I would have to try a different route as well. I knew that the tomes might
help, but if I couldn’t find the right ones, then I would get nowhere.
“I want to talk to you in my office, before your first class. Follow me.” He
ordered hurrying along the table of students.
Sighing I took one last gulp of my slightly warm pumpkin juice and stood up to
follow him.
“My, my Potter, were you always the Headmaster’s dog? He calls, you come. All
you are missing is a leash and a collar.” Nott stated snidely a few seats down.
Pausing a split second was all I allowed myself to do before mumbling quietly
so no one could hear. “Wrong, all I need is a leash.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The same dark eyes that had seen what had happened at the beginning of the year
widened at the statement the Boy-Who-Lived whispered. They knew that it hadn't
been meant to be heard, but then they were sure that a lot of things that had
come to light lately weren’t supposed to.
They had kept their silence over that incident for one main reason. Sure the
news that the Headmaster was torturing his student, particularly The Chosen One
would cause a huge ripple in the Wizarding World, however they felt that there
was something bigger, something deeper going on. And until they could either
figure it out, or it was revealed, they would keep their own council. It
wouldn’t do to have the chain of gossips to catch the conversation, spreading
it through the school, and into the public. After all, they didn’t know what
the Headmaster had over Harry Potter to be of any help. And they didn’t know
what would happen if they tried to free him only to fail.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“Did you have to be a complete prat about it, Nott?” Blaise chided as they
watched Potter leave without responding to the taunt. “Have you forgotten rule
number one? Professor Snape specified that there would be no fighting among us.
That we needed to be united.”
“But, don’t you find it odd that he refuses to respond? Last year he would have
attacked us fists swinging, and this year we can barely get any reaction from
him at all. He barely even gets into a row over his dead parents.” Nott
responded trying to prove his point. “There is something wrong going on here
and I know that I am not the only one who has noticed it.” Turning his head, he
nodded in the direction of their Head of House. “It seems like even Professor
Snape has noticed, and he absolutely loathes Potter. If that doesn’t say
anything, then nothing will.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do about that? He refuses to hang around us, let
alone talk to us. It’s not like we can capture him, tie him to a chair, and
demand he tell us.” Pansy added
Nott rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered why the girl had been put in
Slytherin. “No, you moron, we will do what we do best. We’ll watch him from a
distance, and see what the bloody hell is going on. Pansy you have a corner in
the gossip market correct?” At her nod he continued, “Then start asking subtle
questions, and see if any of the other houses know anything about this drastic
change. Draco, talk to Professor Snape. He is your Godfather. He might tell you
his suspicions.”
Goyle glanced around at all of the nods in confusion. “Why are we doing this? I
thought that we hated Potter?”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, the action reminiscent of his Godfather.
“Because even though we do hate Potter, he is a Slytherin, and we take care of
our own. And if it means having to… watch Potter, then that is what we shall
do.” Draco stated the last part like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Just
because Potter was currently, having trouble didn’t mean he was going to forget
the last five years. He knew he may have started most of their fights, but that
hadn’t got rid of the bitterness that had followed Potter rejecting his hand
back in their first year.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Severus Snape was curious about the new Potter that had suddenly sprouted this
year. Sure, he still looked like his arrogant, self-centered git of a father,
but he could see the subtle changes that were Harry Potter. And it had all
started with the Sanctuary Ceremony. Severus knew that James Potter never would
have asked Snivellus for help. He had been too proud to do something like that,
and while Potter had plenty of pride, he knew when to put it aside and not
appear weak in the process.
Being a spy for the past decade, Severus knew what to look for when observing a
subject and how to be subtle about it. Potter held himself differently. When he
had been an idiot Gryffindor, He had always looked down, or shuffled his feet
in embarrassment. He acted hotheaded, insolent, and always broke the rules.
However, since he had been re-sorted, his posture was that of one befitting his
station. He walked with confidence, and responded with the same conviction in
his voice. He had matured from a boy into a young man.
He stayed away from the other Slytherins, and when they tried to talk to him,
he shunned them, or sliced them to ribbons with his words, tied them into a
bow, and handed them back to their friend with a sweet smile.
He showed almost no emotion whatsoever, and that in itself was particularly
alarming. Last year Potter had been a volcano waiting to erupt at the slightest
touch. And explode he did. Many times. He was the perfect Slytherin… too
perfect. And because of that, his house was currently divided. Between Harry,
those curious about him, and those who refused to get involved.
Potter was always reading the same tome. The useless Quidditch book. Either he
was obsessed with the stupid sport or he was doing something while reading it.
However, he had yet to discover what that ‘something’ was. He appeared to
actually read it. Perhaps he was simply trying to memorize the bloody thing?
Severus snorted at that stupid train of thought. No one was that pathetic. He
could have been devastated about being banned from the sport, but at any other
time Quidditch was mentioned in the Common Room, he acted as though he either
didn’t care, or hadn’t heard. That certainly didn’t seem like someone pinning
for something.
And then there had been that conversation two weeks ago, when his best matehad
attacked him in the halls. He had been hiding something. He had been shaking
slightly as he talked. And it wasn’t from nervousness. It had looked like he
had either been extremely cold, or had been cursed. However, the latter was
impossible. He had a secret, and Severus intended to find out what it was. It
was a new challenge. And he loved a good challenge.
If asked before the beginning of the year what he thought of one Harry James
Potter, he would have replied, “He is an arrogant brat that has no qualms about
breaking rules, or endangering other people’s lives,” He would have spoke of
his poor grades, and how he always talked back to the teachers, like he was
better then them. He would have said that there was nothing at all special
about the boy. That everything he did was mediocre and if the Wizarding World
was depending on him to save them then they were doomed. That there was no way
that idiotic boy would have the power or the bollocks to defeat Voldemort. And
in those two weeks since school had started almost every, single thing he would
have said had been wrong.
Huffing at his thoughts that continued to confuse him Severus excused himself
from the rest of breakfast. He had a class to teach in a few moments. The
fourth year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class. Sneering he continued to count how
many explosions were bound to occur due to the brainless children he was forced
to teach year after year. He had yet to find someone as adept at potions like
he was, it was one of the only joys of teaching. The distant hope that he would
be able to find an apprentice that he could teach all of his passion for potion
making to, though if asked he would vehemently refuse such a possibility.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Luna smiled happily as she ate her bangers dripping with ketchup, and sprinkled
with cinnamon. She had been able to help Harry, and that was all it took to
make her day a bit brighter. He had been the only one to truly accept her for
what she really was, herself. He had never made fun of her, and took her
warnings seriously. He cared for her and she cared for him, not like the others
that proclaimed they did and then turned their back on him for reasons they
either didn’t want to understand, or didn’t try to understand.
They hadn’t been there in the beginning. They didn’t know the circumstances
surrounding what was happening, or going to happen. They would huddle together
for a false sense of safety, and try to figure out what to do next, however to
do that they would have to look to the Shepherd. And that was something they
should not do. They would be lead to the butcher if they followed blindly.
Sadly, they were too scared to become a black sheep and follow their own path.
They had been in the pen for too long to think clearly. The only two
uncertainties were the Weaver and the Big Bad Wolf. Would the Wolf swallow the
poor runaway black sheep, or would he be accepted and revealed as a wolf in
sheep’s clothing?
Humming quietly to herself, she took another bite of the scrumptious food in
front of her watching, as Harry Potter was lead from the Great Hall with the
Shepherd leading. You should be careful Shepherd, not all sheep are as they
seem, there is a wolf among the flock.
***** The Hardest Decision *****
                 The hardest decision is one to live, not die
                        And it is not one easily made.
                            The lines are my enemy
                        Casting my doubts into the wind
               I ignore the voices that tell me which way to go
                      And choose the future that I desire
                                        
                                Chapter Seven
“I’m so glad that you have come to your senses my dear boy. I realize that you
miss Sirius, but that is no reason to rebel, and make the entire Wizarding
World believe that you are going Dark.” Dumbledore stated when we arrived in
his office.
Sirius. It felt like my body turned numb when I heard that name. I had
forgotten. How could I have forgotten about Sirius? He had been one of the only
people that had loved me, and I had forgotten he had even existed. Getting free
from Dumbledore had taken up so much of my time that I had only thought about
that one thing. The exhaustion of many sleepless nights reading book after book
came crashing down all at once. Putting my head in my hands, I slouched in the
high backed, plush chair.
“Ah, I’m sorry my boy, I thought you might have been over it already.” He
cruelly replied. “You cannot live in the past my boy. You have to look to your
future, and fulfill the prophecy.”
“I thought you said that your past is what makes you who you are, Sir. My
parents died in the past, and that is the main reason why I am going to fight
Voldemort, should I just forget their sacrifice?” I politely inquired.
Dumbledore paused from unsticking two Lemon Drops to look up at me over his
glasses. Did he even need his glasses? He always seemed to be looking over
them. “That is not what I meant. I meant that while you should not forget your
past, you should not live in the past. There is a difference. The past is like
a human’s personal Mirror Of Erised. They sometimes see what they most desire
to change but never can, and yet a man who lives how he desires will see
nothing he regrets.”
“And what do you see. Professor? Do you see things you wish to change? Or do
you see perfection?” I wanted to know what he would reply. Did he regret what
he had done to so many others and me? Or did he think it had been for the best?
Dumbledore sighed. “That my boy is a question that every man must ask. I have
also asked that question, and I only have one…regret. I hadn’t done my best for
Tom Riddle.”
I clenched my teeth in rage. So, he didn’t care that he had made me his slave?
He only cared that he had left a poor wizard at an orphanage that abused him.
And he only cared because he turned into the Dark Lord. He was a flaw in the
utopia that Dumbledore wanted to create. I simply nodded as if I agreed with
his biased statement. “What happened Professor?”
The Headmaster’s eyes hardened. “We might discuss this subject again at a later
date, but I don’t believe that you are quite ready for that information. I’m
sure you understand my boy. I don’t want to put too much on your shoulders all
at once. It wouldn’t do to have the Savior of the Wizarding World crumble under
all of the expectations.” He quietly replied. Quickly changing topics he
continued, “How has your stay in the dungeons been?”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. At first they barely tolerated me since I wa…am the
Gryffindor Golden Boy, but I think that over the past few weeks they have begun
to accept me. I think that I am a new light for them in this dark time. I
honestly believe that not all of the elder Slytherins want to take the Dark
Mark. They think that Voldemort is an insane madman. They have heard of the
horrors that their parents have committed, and they want nothing to do with
it.” I supplied lying through my teeth. Normally I couldn’t lie to save my
life, but more then my life was on the line this time. All of my snakes were in
danger and I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them. Even if they thought I
didn’t belong, or trust me. I would protect them from the shadows. It gave me a
purpose.
“Ah excellent. I knew that not all of them were Death-Eaters-In-Training. It is
good news to hear that the younger generation understands the difference
between right and wrong. They will make great allies I’m sure.” He clapped his
hands in delight at the thought of turning some of the Slytherins against their
Death Eater parents.
“I only said they might be susceptible to the idea Professor. I have only been
listening. They don’t talk about that sort of subject in the Common Room often.
They don’t want to be overheard by those firmly on the Dark Side. I’ll try and
talk to them, but I’m not sure how receptive they will be at first. Most have
grown up listening to their parents spout lies about you.” I added. “What can
you give them in exchange?” I wondered. “Most will need something of worth, to
make it worthwhile to change sides. They don’t want to go against their parents
only to be forced back in their grasps.” I almost chuckled at the pensive face
the Puppet Master held. If I could convince him that the Slytherins were
willing to switch sides then maybe that would get him off of my back for a
while.
“I would grant them Sanctuary, my dear boy. Nothing is worth more. They would
be able to stay at Hogwarts for the hols, and then possibly the summer. I would
guarantee that they weren’t blamed for the deeds of their parents. Like
parents, like children.”
That Bloody Bastard! My mind raced in thought as I realized that if they didn’t
proclaim their allegiance to the ‘Light Side’ then they would also be charged
for the sins of their parents. What happened to the child being innocent? How
dare he threaten not only his snakes! But their families as well!
“Ah, it seems like I have kept you too long my boy. Your first class has
already started. So sorry. You have Transfiguration correct? Just tell Minerva
that I wanted to talk to you.”
Knowing I was dismissed for the time being I quickly walked to the door, I
almost flew down the spiral staircase leading from his office. I wasn’t exactly
thrilled going to her class, but it sure beat talking to the Headmaster. At
least it gave me some more time.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“You are late, Mr. Potter. 10 points from Slytherin.” McGonagall stated as soon
as I entered the room out of breath.
“I was in a meeting with the Headmaster, Professor.” I responded looking around
for a free seat. Weaving my way between the other students, I took my place
next to Draco, behind Blaise, with Pansy to the right of me.
“I’ll be checking with him before I award the points back, Mr. Potter. The next
time you come from his office, ask for a note. It doesn’t take that long to
write one.” She sternly spoke.
Nodding I took out a piece of parchment and my Always-Inked-Quill. She was
still mad that I had changed houses. Like it had been my idea the whole time. I
smirked at that thought. It certainly hadn’t been my idea, but whoever came up
with it was a genius.
“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted by Mr. Potter, Animagus
forms are difficult to achieve. There are only a few selected Wizards and
Witches in the world with the ability to become an animagus. Many Witches and
Wizards won’t even have an inner animal to begin with. Those that do are
considered special. However, in those that do have an inner animal, an
estimated ten or twenty each year, only one or two have successfully become
that animal. There has been one exception though.” She lectured glancing over
my way as she spoke the last part.
“Once you realize what animal you are, you only have one year to become that
animal or you will never be able to achieve the form in the future. Which is
why only the sixth year students have this opportunity. It is a long and
difficult process. Many have given up half way through the process deciding
that it is not worth it. However, from my personal point of view it is very
useful.
“ For those of you who are taking Potions, Professor Snape will be teaching you
how to make the Anigimus Potion that will reveal your inner animal. For those
of you who aren’t taking Potions, Severus will make the potion for you. If you
have the ability, your Head of House will be working with you through the
process. Each house is different and each Head of House knows their students
best. Every Head of House is an Animagus, so it should not be an issue whether
they will be competent enough to teach you. For the next few days, we will be
going over the theory of the change and what it involves.
“When you discover what animal you are, you will need to go to the library and
look up everything you can find on them. You will need to know your animal
impeccably. From the eating habits, to their body structure. You are also
expected to hand in a two-foot essay on your animal to your Head of House. For
those of you who do not have an animal you will be required to research why you
do not, and what animal best describes you.”
Writing down most of the information she was spouting at the speed of light, I
sighed. My father, and the Marauders had been Animagi. That meant that they
were an exception to the one or two only rule. I wondered if it was a rule that
the Ministry had passed or if it really was that after a year it would be
impossible to ‘get in touch with your inner-animal.’ I coughed covering a laugh
at the thought that had sounded like Trelawney.
It was probably the Ministry. After all, it wouldn’t do to have another Sirius
on the loose now would it? An Animagus criminal. I knew that I would have a
form. I had read somewhere that it was in the blood and the magical ability.
Some had the magical capacity to become one, while others’ magical blood was so
diluted that it was impossible. The Weasel probably wouldn’t be able to change
due to a low magical core. The Mudblood was a mystery. Sure, she had Muggle
parents, but I couldn’t deny that she was a strong witch. It was another of
those wait and watch issues that had been coming up lately.
Hearing the loud bell jolted me out of my thoughts. I had been doing that a lot
as well. I needed to be more aware of my surroundings if I was going to survive
this year. Gathering the supplies I had gotten out less then fifteen minutes
ago, I exited the class surrounded by Draco, Pansy, and Blaise.
“What do you think my animal will be?” Pansy excitedly asked. Hands animatedly
moving with her speech.
“Chipmunk.” I stated.
Draco, Blaise, and Pansy paused when they heard my reply. I knew I didn’t
normally talk to them, but I had been able to overcome some of the runes at
weird moments in time. Like they were letting me become my normal self for a
few minutes at a time as a sick sense of a reward for a job well done.
“A chipmunk?” Draco drawled.
Nodding I answered. “Chipmunks are very energetic, and social creatures. They
gather nuts and acorns to store them for the winter season. Or in Pansy’s case,
the nuts would resemble the information she gathers by being a gossip. She
knows which people to go to for specific information, and who to visit to
spread gossip without it backfiring on her, or making it sound unbelievable.
She is a chipmunk.” I rattled of the information firmly believing I was right.
Thinking through the information she nodded. It certainly wasn’t a horrible
little creature. It actually would fit her personality perfectly if that was
indeed her animagus.
Draco continued to stare at me with an expression that I couldn’t quite
decipher. “What animal am I Potter?”
I drew a deep breath and made my face solemn. “A ferret.” I said evenly in a
slightly sad voice full of conviction. Looking at his shocked face I quickly
sped to my next class with my laughter trailing behind me.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Draco glanced at Blaise in shock. “Did Potter tell a joke?”
Blaise nodded in amusement. That had been the first time that they had seen
Potter so happy since the start of the term. He never laughed, he never smiled,
and he almost never talked unless required in classes by the Professor. Maybe
there was hope for him yet.
Pansy leaned on Blaise for support as she continued to giggle and chuckle at
Potter’s response. Draco had been too surprised that he had joked with them to
really pay attention to the animal he had stated. “F...f..ferret!” She cackled.
“D…Draco he said that y…you would b..be a f..ferret!” She proclaimed, watching
with pathetically suppressed mirth as his face turned a bright crimson, before
his loud embarrassed voice rang out in the now deserted hall.
“POTTER!”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
When the last of the day’s classes were finished, I made a quick detour to the
kitchens planning on getting something small to eat, and skipping dinner like I
had for the past few days. I had an important letter to write. One that
wouldn’t wait for dinner to be finished.
Tickling the pear until it giggled I opened the secret passage and quickly
climbed in before anyone else saw me. It was supposed to be forbidden to enter
the kitchens during the day, and night. It was considered an offense to the
House Elves working. Or that is what the teachers preached. However, it was
well known that the Elves loved having company while they worked. It made it
worthwhile for them.
The cry of “Master Harry Potter, Sir!” Was quickly followed by a blur of brown
and a weight attaching itself to my legs causing me to stumble a few steps
before gaining my equilibrium.
“Hello, Dobby!” I awkwardly sputtered, while patting him on his bony shoulder.
“Oh Master Harry Potter, Sir has ‘membered Dobby! Dobby’s so honored that one
as great as yous has ‘membered this lowly House Elf!” Huge tears appeared in
his golf ball sized green eyes as he tugged on his ears. Standing up straight,
he puffed out his emaciated chest in pride. “What can Dobby bes getting fer
Master Harry Potter, Sir?”
“I would like something small to eat for dinner. I haven’t been sleeping well
lately, so I’ve not been able to keep much down.” I white lied. I knew that
otherwise he would bring out a huge feast, that I wouldn’t have time to eat. I
just wanted something simple. “I have many things to do, and I don’t have much
time, so if you could find me something simple… that would be great.” I added.
“Whats is wrong with Master Harry Potter, Sir? Are yous sick? Master Harry
Potter, Sir should goes to Pop-pee. Shes good in helping sickness yes?” Dobby
exclaimed worried. It wouldn’t do to have Master Harry Potter Sir sick!
“I’ll go a bit later if I have time.” I quickly continued halting any
objections, he may have had. “I am on a quest to destroy a bad wizard.”
“Young Master Draco?” Dobby cried in surprise.
“No, not him Dobby.” I smiled slightly. “I’m on a quest to defeat Voldemort.” I
fibbed.
“Yous is the only ones to be ables to defeat Bad Wizard, Master Harry Potter,
Sir.” He solemnly replied. “But us House Elves wonders whys yous don’t defeat
the Sheppard?”
I froze in surprise. The Sheppard? Running through all of the people, I knew I
could only think of one person that could be called that. “You mean…ah… I am. I
just wasn’t sure how you would take it.” I nervously replied. This conversation
was getting weird. The House Elves wanted Dumbledore to be killed as well.
“The Sheppard is not much bad to us Elves, but The Sheppard is very much bad to
Master Harry Potter, Sir. Yous are not a dog.” He angrily replied.
“You can…”
“Of course. Us have Elf Magic. Us have seen many much things. Bad Wizard they
is.” Dobby spoke in a soft voice before rushing off to get some food.
Reappearing in what seemed like a second he gave me a cloth bundle covering a
handful of food. “Yous gots Treackle Tart, Apples, and the Pumpkiny Juice.”
Nodding my thanks, I quickly made my way out of the kitchens and to the Owlery.
I couldn’t use Hedwig because she was too remarkable. I either had to use a
school owl, and there, certainly were plenty, or I would have to use a
Slytherin’s owl. I wasn’t sure what kind of wards Voldemort had put on his
hiding place in the last few months if any.
Pulling some parchment, and an Always-Inked Quill. I started to compose my
letter.
***** Void Of Insanity *****
                    Have you been to the Void of Insanity?
                  It is a cold dark place full of nothingness
                       Whispers of good deeds gone wrong
                               A vast plain with
                    Your memories as your only companions.
                           For like the walking dead
                           They never rest in peace
                    Have you been to the Void of Insanity?
                          For it is inside your mind.
                                        
                                Chapter Eight
Tom Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytheirn was pacing in
front of the obsidian marble fireplace in his vast library. It had been months
since he had been able to contact Harry Potter. Ever since the incident at the
Ministry of Magic; where he had discovered the truth that Dumbledore had tried
to keep hidden for the past five years. It had taken some quick planning, and
extensive blackmailing but none of his prized Death Eaters had been captured in
that raid. And considering what they had received, they were several steps
ahead of Dumbledore. Glancing at the white orb sitting innocently on his cherry
wood desk, his thoughts were drawn to the Death Eater meeting that had been
held immediately after the event. The old fool still had no idea of the truth
of that night
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“Lucius,” Voldemort caressed the name of his right hand man. “What happened to
the Prophecy?”
Walking to the space in front of his master, he knelt before responding with
some pride and confusion. “It was retrieved My Lord. The Potter brat threw it
to me before the fighting began when his companions were distracted.”
Smirking Voldemort held out his hand in demand for the orb that would tell him
of the future that may be. Potter had done well.
Standing, Lucius reached into his long black robes and drew out the sphere
setting it in his Lord’s scaly, pale palm.
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those
who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord
will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the
other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born
as the seventh month dies...”
The remaining Inner Circle members, Severus and McNair being absent, gasped
when the women’s voice faltered and stopped. If this was true… then their Lord
was in even more danger then they had thought.
Hissing with pleasure Voldemort rose from his stone throne. Yes, Harry had done
very well.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tearing his thoughts away from the months before he smirked. He now knew that
Harry had not betrayed him, and probably never would. The prophecy was proof of
that. When he had possessed Harry at the Department of Mysteries, he had hoped
to figure out where his true loyalties lied. It had worked. Harry had never
gone to Dumbledore in the first place. The Meddling fool and blocked their
connection, making it impossible to contact him, adding to the fact that the
man also had complete control over Harry, made it impractical for either of
them to assure their loyalty. Each had thought the other had betrayed them. Due
to the unfortunate timing of Dumbledore, Harry was forced to eject him from his
mind. Harry had been, and still was under Dumbledore’s control.
Putting the glowing object in his desk drawer the moment he heard footsteps
heading towards the library, he glanced up waiting for his two guests. He had
summoned both Severus and Lucius to attend to him this night.
“What news of Potter?” The Dark Lord questioned.
They bowed and didn’t rise until they had been ordered to. “He has been re-
sorted into Slytherin.” His only Potions Master responded.
Waving his hand in irritation Voldemort glared at Severus. “I already had news
of that. The children of the other Death Eaters reported it to me before the
Daily Prophet printed the article. What news of Potter?”
“He is staying away from the other Slytherins, but it could be the Headmaster’s
doing. I also believe that there is something wrong with the boy.” The Head of
the Slytherin House explained.
Crimson eyes narrowed on the sallow man. “Oh? And what may that be?”
“He is hiding something, My Lord. I have been watching over him since his stay
in my house. I had an… enlightening conversation with him two weeks past. He
had asked for Sanctuary his first night in the dorms, and it was granted. But
for some inexplicable reason that didn’t work. I believe that either Dumbledore
or someone else may have if not partial control, then complete control of the
boy. I have seen a few instances where he will talk with the Slytherins with no
hatred, and then in the next moment, he is spitting curses at them. I know that
most of the upper years have been watching him, they know that Potter is not
acting like he did.”
Voldemort smiled viciously at his valued spy. He knew Harry had a secret. It
made sense that the collar around Harry’s neck would control his actions. He
might have thought Voldemort as someone to be trusted, but if his actions were
controlled, then he wouldn’t be able to go to the Dark Side, let alone fight
against Dumbledore. If they could either break the collar off or somehow remove
it, then he knew that without a doubt Harry would turn to him, side with him.
It had been him that comforted Harry when he was hurting as a young child.
Their connection had been so strong that even in spirit form it had flared to
life. It had been him that had encouraged Harry to not give up when the Muggles
had started to abuse him. And it had been him that tried to help Harry when
that bastard of a Headmaster had collared him. He had been with him for so long
that his mind felt empty since he left. And that was the Headmaster’s doing as
well.
Voldemort cared for no one. He couldn’t afford to. It was a weakness; that
would inevitably be his downfall. All that Lord Voldemort cared about was
getting revenge on those that had harmed him. Those that had ignored his cries
for help, those that had thrown him in hell every summer, and those that had
watched relishing in the pain inflicted on the orphan with no way to defend
himself. He didn’t care for anyone, but he did think what he felt for Harry
James Potter was the closest he was ever going to get.
“If he comes to any harm under the protection of yourself and the Slytherins,
you will discover just how many lethal dark spells I have learned in the past
seventy years!” He warned in a poisonous voice.
Black eyes widened at the proclamation. He knew that for the longest time the
Dark Lord had been trying to kill the whelp, and now he was demanding him not
to be harmed? Severus gulped at the thoughts that came with that statement.
What had Harry Potter done that caused The Dark Lord to not want him harmed? In
the past war, he would have used any means to get his prey. Since he had been
resurrected two years ago, though he had been less vicious towards the Potter
boy. Interesting.
Turning to the only man who knew of his relationship with Potter, Voldemort
smirked at the knowledge that was held in the silver depths. “What has your son
to say about the Potter boy?”
“He writes home about once a week, My Lord. He has stated that Potter has
indeed been acting weird since the start of the term. There are unexplained
breaks in his personality as
Severus has already reported. He is seen always carrying the same book. One
Quidditch Through The Ages. I have also discovered that he almost never sleeps.
The boys in his dorm take turns staying awake to keep an eye on him, and he
gets no more then two hours of sleep a night. If he continues on the path that
he is on then he will get sick, and be of no use to you, My Lord.” Lucius
drawled in is arrogant aristocratic voice. His next sentence was interrupted by
the loud screech of a pure black eagle owl.
Looking up in surprise as the large bird flew into the room, Lucius frowned in
confusion when he saw the Slytherin’s owl, Aristotle. It was the owl, which the
Death Eater Children used, to present valuable information to the Inner Circle.
He became even more confused when it landed in front of the Dark Lord,
imperiously lifting his leg so he could retrieve his burden.
“Is this not the Death Eater Children’s owl, Lucius?” Voldemort questioned in
what could almost be called bemusement.
“Correct, My Lord.” He responded. “I have no idea why it is bothering you. It
normally comes to me, My Lord.”
Opening the letter after casting spells against curses, and jinxes he read the
contents with a pleasantly surprised expression on his snake-like face.
My Dearest Crimson Rose,
How I have longed for your loving touch, longed to hear your voice echo in my
empty mind. Your presence has never left since that tragic day all those years
ago.
I had thought the worst. That you no longer wanted me anymore. I am sorry for
all of the pain I have unintentionally caused you with what I had thought of as
a betrayal.
I loved you with all of my heart, and even now, it still aches for you. I’ve
not found another, and I know in my heart that I never will. I am yours.
Forever.
My love, my sweet rose, I must beg of you to listen to these heartfelt words. I
only speak the truth. Doubt anything else, but never question my faithfulness.
If you still feel the same, if you can find it in your broken heart to forgive
this fool then speak the words you used to whisper in my ear late at night. I
will wait for three days. If you have not responded, then I will know that you
have moved on.
Faithfully Yours,
Emerald Blood
Hissing in Parseltongue, Voldemort waited a few seconds before smiling cruelly.
“This younger follower is… interesting. I have received new important
information. Who is currently in possession of the tome Collars: Slaves to Your
Imaginations by Aberforth Dumbledore?”
“I’m not sure, My Lord, there are only four in existence. Perhaps we could, say
kidnap, the author?” Severus spoke for the first time in minutes, listening to
the information that had been passed on to Lucius, who then gave it the Dark
Lord.
Smirking, the former Tom Riddle replied in a pleased tone of voice, “Excellent
idea Severus. Or Perhaps my dear friend Aberforth would be willing to resurrect
our business contract, for the small, small price of his elder brother’s head.”
***** You Promised *****
                    You promised you would be there for me
                         Where were you on that day?
                               No answer comes
                           Call this my punishment
                            I took you for granted
                      I never thought we would be apart
                              I guess I was wrong
                                 Chapter Nine
It had only been twelve hours since I had sent the owl off with my letter to
Tom, and I was already nervous. I didn’t want to admit that I was nervous, no,
because mentioning that I was even to myself would make it real. It would make
it impossible to ignore. It proved that I felt something, and for the longest
time that had been the one thing, I avoided at all cost.
I had been breaking that rule lately. I had been getting closer to the snakes.
On rare occasions, I had been laughing, smiling, and right now, that was not
allowed. That would make me weak, and unable to fight. I had vowed to not let
anyone matter to me any more, and while I was breaking that vow with Tom, I
knew that I would need his help. I knew that he felt the same way I did. We
didn’t care for each other, but we did. We weren’t weak, but we were. We
weren’t scared, but it festered in our minds.
We knew what loneliness was. We knew what hunger did to the body, what pain did
to the mind, we knew what despair did to our hopes. We just knew. Just like, I
knew that Tom would accept me back. Just like I now knew, he hadn’t betrayed
me, like I had thought.
Breaking out of my thoughts, I glanced up at the hoard of owls entering the
Great Hall during breakfast. I didn’t expect an answer today, nor tomorrow,
however, I wanted one. I wanted him to tell me that it was all right, that he
forgave me, just like he had needed to hear those words.
A slight look of shock appeared on my face as I took in the horned eagle owl in
front of me. It was from him. With slightly trembling fingers, I relieved the
magnificent bird of its burden before feeding it a few bites of bacon.
My Beloved Emerald Blood,
Your heartfelt words have reached my battered heart. I had hoped that one day
you would return to me. I am regretful that I had thought the worst of you as
well. I had been deceived. I should have known after all of those years
together that you would never leave me for another.
I listened to rumors, and speculations instead of my heart. I swear I will not
make the same mistake twice. You are Mine!
As a sincere token of both my forgiveness and renewal of my everlasting love, I
present you with a token.
I look forward to the day when we will reunite, and fulfill the promise I vowed
on the night we first met.
All my Love,
Crimson Rose
A bright smile lit up my face as I took in the words; I was forgiven. Folding
the letter and quickly putting it in the pocket of my robes, my mind wandered
to the night that I had first met Tom Marvolo Riddle, my light.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was cold. My soul felt frozen as I lay in the small cupboard under the
stairs. My home for the last five years. I couldn’t understand. What was wrong
with making things happen? What was so ‘freakish’ about it? I could never
understand why my relatives locked me in this small space, saying it was the
only thing I was worthy of. I couldn’t understand why they never hugged me, or
cleaned up my cuts like they did for Dudley. I was theirs' wasn’t I? I was
alive, wasn’t I? I existed! So why was I invisible. Why?
Shivering in the imminent darkness, I prayed for a savior. I prayed that
someone would see me. Prove that I was alive; prove that I was cared for.
Curling in an even smaller ball, I whimpered in pain. ‘I don’t wanna be
‘nvisible…I don’t wanna be ‘nvisible!’ I repeated.
‘I hear you little one… I hear.’ A voice echoed in the darkness.
My head shot up in surprise. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here! I was
supposed to be alone, I was supposed to be good. I was going to be stolen. I
sniffled at that thought. Uncle Vernon had said that if I wasn’t good then the
Garbage Man would take me. After all, I was trash. My voice shook as I replied
afraid that it was the man who would steal me from the darkness. Steal me from
the only thing that had protected me.
‘You can’t hear me. I don’t exist.’
‘You exist, little one.’
‘NO! I’m not ‘lowed to exist. I’m not ‘posed to be alive. I should have died at
birth!’ I shouted back.
‘Do you bleed?’ The voice asked?
‘Yes,’ I quickly responded.
‘Do you breathe?’
Nodding my head, I again answered yes.
‘Do you feel pain? Do you hope? Do you wish? Do you dream?’ The soft voice
whispered in my mind, ‘Do you want to exist?’
A strangled sound emerged from my closed throat. “Yes.”
‘Then you exist little one. You are alive. You are not invisible.’ The voice
paused before continuing, ‘Those that are invisible, do not bleed, for they
have no blood. Those that are invisible do not breathe for they have no breath.
They cannot hurt, they cannot hope, nor can they wish or dream. For they are
not there. You, little one, are there.’
Hot tears rolled down my face at the comforting words that the stranger’s voice
was saying. Was it true? Were they wrong? A wave of warmth flooded the darkness
making me smile. I was seen. I was real. They were wrong.
‘Why?’ I questioned. Why had this person helped me?
‘Because you are like me. You want to be seen. You want to have a purpose. You
want to make a difference.’ The soft answer came with another wave of warmth.
‘What is your name little one?’
‘Harry. Harry Potter.’ I responded glad that someone wanted to know my name.
Glad that someone cared enough to ask.
‘Harry… You may call me Tom.’The voice’s tone had taken on a pleased sound. ‘I
promise I will free you Harry. I will free you from your world of darkness and
show you a world of color, and light. I will give you a purpose, to live.’
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A year. It had been a year since I had met Tom. He talked to me, encouraged me,
and dare I say it…cared for me. He was the first person I had ever opened up
enough to care about. He was my Light. He was the one thing that kept me going.
He had given his word and I knew that one day, he would fulfill that vow. One
day he would free me, and I would join him, by his side.
A knocking at the front door brought reality to the forefront of my mind when
Uncle Vernon ordered me to open the thing and see who it was.
Opening the door, I frowned at seeing a tall old man wearing a dress. Quickly
remembering my manners I smiled innocently at the man and asked: “May I help
you?”
Nodding he looked into the house before responding. “I’m looking for a Petunia
Dursley. Is she home by any chance?”
“Yes, Aunt ‘Tunia is home.” I replied hoping that was the right answer.
A beaming smile lit his face as he stared at me instead of just his quick
glance. “Ah, you must be young Harry,” he exclaimed in excitement. “How are you
my dear boy?”
“Fine Sir.” I spoke the programmed response.
Humming in happiness he waited to be noticed by the other occupants of the
house.
“What are you doing holding open the door you freak?” Her high-pitched voice
shrieked.
I winced. “There is a man here to see you Aunt ‘Tunia,” I quietly spoke.
“Well let him in! Guests should never be left out in the cold.” She scolded,
ignoring the fact that it was mid-July.
Nodding I quickly ushered him into the sitting room.
Her smile dropped when she saw whom her ‘guest’ was and turned to glare at the
man. “What do you want Old Man? I thought I told you that I didn’t want to see
any more of your kind around here. Are you finally going to take the Freak?”
She demanded
“Now Petunia…”
“Don’t you ‘now Petunia me’ Albus Dumbledore! You swore to me that I would
never see my freak of a sister again! That no contact would be made between
your kind and my family, but then you just leave her ‘brat’ here on the
doorstep expecting me to take care of it! You left a note! A note saying ‘Your
sister is dead, here is her child!’ What kind of man does that? I hated her.
She was the special one. While I was invisible.” She ranted.
My head snapped up at that word. She was like me.
“But then she got herself blown up and now you come here to ask for something
else? I refuse!” She bellowed face red from anger and misery.
“Ah, you’re done,” he simply said. “Good. I came here to make you an offer,” he
gently replied.
“What?!” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“I know that you do not care for young Harry, however he is… needed.”
“This is another one of your schemes isn’t it?”
“Of course not. I’ve never schemed. I’ve only… helped the situation along.” His
grandfatherly voice poured honey into the words.
“Then what do you need me for? Take the brat! I don’t want him.”
“I have an object that will keep him in check. However I need you to be the one
to put it on him.”
“Why me?”
His smile grew wider. “That isn’t important, my dear. Let’s just that without
your help, the Wizarding World will be in danger. And so will be your Normal
World.”
Her face pinched in anger and distaste, as she looked at the object in his
withered old hands. “So this will keep him obedient and you will no longer send
any more of those freaks after my family?” She demanded in a tight voice. At
his nod, she lifted the collar from his hands and walked over to me.
What was she doing? She was like me… she was like me! Panic raced through my
veins like ice. I glanced from my aunt to the man, scrambling away. I wasn’t
going to wear it! She wouldn’t make me… would she? She was family! No matter
how horrible they were; they still loved me, didn’t they? I was good wasn’t I?
The Garbage Man hadn’t come yet! I wasn’t trash!
My eyes widened even more when the man pulled out a long stick, and pointed at
me saying a weird phrase that I couldn’t understand. Falling to the floor I
tried to move my hands. I tried to move my arms and legs. Why wouldn’t they
move? I was frozen just like my soul had been a year ago.
Tears streamed from my eyes and down my cheeks when I saw ’Tunia kneeling over
me holding the metal object. She was like me…she wasn’t like me! The cold metal
closed around my neck, snapping shut when it pressed together. Pain flashed
through my whole body as something burned my skin. ‘Make it stop! Please make
it stop Tom!’
Silence was the only reply. Where was he?
‘It hurts! If pain means being alive, then I don’t want to be alive. I want to
die! I want to be with mum, and dad. I want to be invisible.’ I pleaded, ‘Tom?’
Glancing up into the blank eyes of my Aunt I died a little inside. I was alone.
I was forgotten. My mind shut down. I didn’t exist.
I didn’t notice the other two bracelets snapping into place. I didn’t notice as
my only chance for freedom was stripped from me. Why would I care for freedom
when I was invisible?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
‘Harry?’
Sighing I propped myself up on my new bed, in the room that used to be
Dudley’s, ‘What Tom?’
‘You have to go to Hogwarts!’ He ordered. ‘We might find a way to free you if…’
‘When are you going to get it through your mind that I won’t get free!’ I
demanded. ‘It was just a childish promise that means nothing!’
‘Lord Voldemort never breaks a vow you brat! I vowed that I would break you
free and free you shall be!’ His voice hissed.
‘I’m not so sure Tom. I’ll be closer to Dumbledore, and we still don’t know
what these collar and bracelets do. Or what spell or runes he used. It is
pointless.’
‘Since when did my little snake, give up?’
‘Since I realized that life is nothing more then a black, sucking, vortex of
anguish and despair, filled with brief moments of false hope and empty joy.’
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
‘Should I have really come Tom?’ I questioned. The manipulation had already
begun. Draco… he had seemed interesting, and yet here I was sitting on the
Hogwarts Express with a Weasley. A blood-traitor according to Tom. One not
worthy to befriend since they were firmly in Dumbledore’s pocket. Nodding
absently at my ‘new best mate,’ I continued trying to contact Tom until the
sorting. It had been over a month since the last time we spoke. He was doing
something, I just couldn’t figure out what. He was way better at the
subject…erm… Occlumency I think it was called. It allowed him brief intervals
where we didn’t share one mind. He was keeping a secret. Frustration filled my
mind. For years, after Dumbledore had put that bloody collar and bracelets on
me he had never left me alone for a minute. Only these past few months had he
started being secretive. Didn’t he need me anymore? Was I a burden?
“Potter, Harry.” A female voice spoke from the platform, reading from the
scroll in her hand.
Quickly walking forward, I ignored the whispers and speculations that followed
the words. I already knew that I was famous. Tom had told me. Tom, also known
as Lord Voldemort had killed my parents, and then tired to kill me. I survived,
while his spirit had been ejected from his body. I had wondered many nights why
I had forgiven Tom, for what he had done. And surprisingly the answer was
simple. Tom had killed my parents, yes, but Dumbledore had put me in Hell. Tom
saved me. He was my purpose.
“Hmm…” A voice sounded in my head.
‘Tom?’ I excitedly replied. It had been a month since we last talked. I had
missed my Light.
A sad chuckle was the answer I received. “No dear one, I’m not your Tom. I’m
sadly just here to sort you into your proper place.”
I nodded in disappointment. He wasn’t there…
“You have a nice thirst to prove yourself, and to get out from the Headmaster’s
thumb… interesting.”
I gulped. It knew!
“Don’t worry dear one I cannot tell the Headmaster anything that I see in the
student’s minds. I was created by the Four Founders to sort the students yes,
but respect their privacy. Your secrets are safe with me.”
‘Slytherin please.’ I requested. I knew I would do well there. They were kind
of like me. Or that was what Tom said.
“Slytherin eh? You will be great you know; it’s all here in your head. Tom, and
Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that…”The hat
looked through the traits and memories again before pausing, and falling
silent.
White-hot pain flashed through my mind as I waited for the verdict. Why hadn’t
he said anything? Reaching up my hand I tried to rub the pain away when the hat
roared out the one word that would change my world, and throw me into the very
pits of Hell.
“Gryffindor!”
***** Heaven Called Hell *****
                        In this Heaven, they call Hell
                   The chains that bind us are not of steel
                      It’s the past that; keeps us here
                     The memories are filling up my heart
                In an immoral world what is there to live for?
                             If not to waste away.
                                 Chapter Ten
He was smiling. Why was Harry Potter smiling? The last few weeks had proved
that he had no emotions other then rare bouts of anger and apathy. So why was
that bloody git smiling? Ron furiously thought. He didn’t deserve to smile
after what he had done. He had killed his godfather, refused to save the
Wizarding World, and preached that he deserved more. That he deserved more
fame, more money, and more glory. Isn’t that what he wanted? Wasn’t that the
‘something of worth’ Ha…Potter had been ranting about? For nothing could be
better then all of that. Ron would rather have money and fame, than the things
he really had.
He was the youngest boy, the one almost forgotten, the one compared with every
other sibling. Bill was never home due to working with the Goblins, Charlie
lived in Romania handling the dragons, Percy was a right git who sucked up to
the tosser of a Minister, and the twins were nothing but pests. He had thought
that their joke shop had been a brilliant idea, until the truth came out.
Harry Potter had given them the money. The twins were currently making a
living, a profit, off that filthy money. They were famous. They had money. They
had fame for their products and he hated them for it. And then there was Ginny,
his special little sister, the only girl in the whole brood. She was the
youngest Weasley, and the girl therefore even more important than Ron.
Blue eyes glared at the head of black hair across the hall. Potter might have
been the Savior of the Wizarding World, but he knew that Dumbledore would soon
get tired of him. Why have a Savior who refused to save? The Headmaster would
have no choice but to choose someone else. Someone more worthy. Ron intended to
be that person. He intended to be the Savior, the Warrior, the Defeater of
Voldemort. Because then everyone would know his name. Ron. Not Weasley. His
thin lips curled into a semblance of a smile as he thought of the moment it
would happen. The moment of glory that would cause such a reaction.
Glancing around his table he nodded to himself. His perfect girlfriend
Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindor House would be there behind him. The
perfect distance so they could catch him if he fell, to make sure that he was
safe, but never next to him, never in front of him, to take his moment. Never
ahead of him. For he would be the one to save the world from darkness.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Light brown eyes narrowed in suspicion when the dark owl dropped in front of
Harry. Sirius was dead. There would be no more letters from Snuffles. He
shouldn’t have been getting letters. Harry didn’t know anybody outside of
school. She should know. She had been spying on him for five years and not once
did he slip up about another person who was dear to him. She saw the shock, and
the bright smile that lit his face, and froze. No one, not even her or Ron
could have gotten that reaction out of Harry. Sure there had been times in the
past where he had smiled, but not like that. Not like he had just been handed
the Sun, Moon, and Stars.
Watching as he quickly put something in his pocket she sighed. It was too small
to make out from where she sat so she dismissed it from her mind without a
second thought. It wasn’t important. The metal collar was still enclosed around
his slender neck. It teased her with guilt the longer she stared at her former
friend. He was in pain; more pain then she could ever imagine. If she had known
this was the outcome, she might have denied the offer to come to Hogwarts. If
she had known that she would have grown to love Harry like a brother, then she
would have given up her education and refused the deal the Headmaster had
offered. Her education, for the rune research, and the friendship of one Harry
James Potter. It had simply been a mission. A mission that had paled in
compassion to her future. When the offer had been made, she never thought that
the boy that she was enslaving was human. She had simply thought of him as a
task. Something that needed to be completed and that had been her downfall.
He had saved her, and in return she bound him to an insane wizard that wanted
to do nothing more than to destroy the world. She would have laughed if someone
had told her that the man in the purple dress she met when she was ten wanted
to take over the world; however, it was now more believable. Somewhere in
between looking for the proper runes to use the following year, and spending
time with the mission, she took off her rose colored glasses and saw a world
drenched in hate and deceit.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Neville Longbottom stared at his plate of chipolatas and poached eggs, ignoring
the multiple conversations going on around him. What was going on? The past few
weeks had awakened a part of him that he hadn’t known existed. All of the
rumors, and speculations about Harry caused him to take a step back and
question his loyalties for Dumbledore. He had vowed during the summer, after
the Department of Mysteries fiasco, that he would stick by Harry. That he would
be there for him, in his time of need, and yet it didn’t look like he needed
his help. Ron and Hermione were ignoring him like they had before, without
Harry around. He had once again faded into the woodwork.
A slight smirk appeared on his chubby face making Ginny Weasley stare at him in
slight surprise. He was currently in a position to do whatever he wanted. He
was forgotten. No one would suspect that Neville Longbottom, resident klutz,
resident coward of the Gryffindor House would move things behind the scenes.
Making a firm decision, he nodded to himself. Harry might not look like he
needed any help, but he knew that he would need it. He wasn’t sure what was
going on, but he would find out, and to do that he would need to talk to a
special Ravenclaw.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Luna hummed a soft song as she glanced around the Great Hall. Everything had
been set in motion, just like she knew it would be. Doubt was sharp in some
minds, while hope flared in two. That of the Black Sheep and the Cowardly Lion.
They would soon be prepared to walk any path if it meant freedom, for not only
them, but those like them as well. Those willing to help save the thing they
loved the most. Magic. They would soon gather a following that would help their
dream be realized. They would soon be free from the Shepherd.
Looking at the Slytheirn table she snickered at the curiosity in the depths of
their eyes when they saw Harry Potter’s reaction to the letter. It would only
be a matter of time before they knew the Black Sheep’s secret. And it would be
in that moment that they would have to decide whom to follow. Would they follow
the Shepherd to the slaughter, or the Black Sheep into greener pastures with no
fences?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Severus Snape froze in shock when he saw the beautiful bird fly into the Great
Hall and land before Potter, before his eyes narrowed as he watched the happy
smile spread across his face. What could have created such a reaction? A
reaction that had been missing since the end of last year, and the beginning of
this year as well. There was something going on here. Something that was not
right. Potter was different. He already knew that, but he still had to find out
what made him different. His dogfather’s death could have started the change,
however it was very unlikely. For Sirius Black would never have wanted his
godson in Slytherin. No, it was something much greater, and more traumatic to
have caused the Gryffindor Golden Boy to change his colors.
Glancing discretely around the hall, he noticed the various reactions from
Potter's former friends and housemates. Weasley’s face scrunched up in anger
and jealously. Granger's eyes narrowed in confusion and contemplation.
Longbottom for once looked determined, and more like what a Gryffindor should
be. Lovegood, her dreamy silver eyes fixed right on him, no not on him, but
through him. Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed in almost unnoticeable anger directed
at Potter.
Dumbledore, the one factor that refused to fit into his never-ending puzzle.
When Potter had first come to Hogwarts he had doted upon him, let him break
every rule without any repercussions other then a simple detention. He had
cared for Potter like he was his own great-grandson. Or had he? Greasy limp
hair fell in front of his face as he bowed his head slightly mulling things
over. He might have doted on him in the beginning, however the end-results of
each year were blatantly clear. He had been testing him. The Sorcerer’s Stone,
the Basilisk, Black, the Tournament, Occlumency, and the Department of
Mysteries. Year after year, the Headmaster had tested the Savior and found him
lacking. Found him not worthy of the title and prestige. And now, Potter'd had
enough. He was trying to break free. The death of his do…godfather had been the
final straw. A few pieces clicked into place as his thoughts formed in his mind
at a rapid rate.
It made sense. Being re-sorted into Slytherin, asking for sanctuary, the sudden
speech after the article in the Daily Prophet, surrounding himself with his
housemates wherever he went, and the confrontation between him and Weasley. The
only thing left to figure out was that blasted book. Why? Why was he constantly
reading the bloody thing? Rubbing the bridge of his nose in slight frustration
he glanced up in time to see Dumbledore head over to the Slytherin table, and
stand behind Potter waiting for acknowledgement.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Feeling the familiar presence behind me I lightly sighed. He just had to come
over and ruin what little bit of pleasure I was able to gain from my letter and
memories didn’t he? He must love tormenting little children. He was starting to
turn into a modern version of the Boogeyman. Only this time he was real, and
could do more than scare you. No, he had the power to take your very existence
and turn it into nothing. He thought he had the power to snuff out the
innocence and joy in children, and for that he would pay.
“What may I do for you Headmaster?” I asked, my voice monotone.
“Ah, my boy I was simply curious about that piece of mail you received. I
wanted to look it over and make sure there is nothing… wrong with it.” He
smiled brightly.
“As, you can already see, Headmaster, nothing was wrong with the letter. I’m
fine.” My lips twitched into a semblance of a smile.
Blue eyes narrowed at the open defiance. How dare that brat defy him… him in
the hall. He should know better. “Of course, but one can never be too sure now
can we? You are very dear to us all. Surely, you can hand it over. It is for
your protection after all.”
Sighing a little dramatically, I pulled out the letter and held it before me.
“It is a love letter, sir. What can be wrong with a love letter?”
He blinked once before coming up with an excuse. “Is it signed? Do you have any
idea whom it could be from?”
I nodded sadly. “Voldemort.” A few people gasped as they listened to the
conversation.
“What?” He blankly stated in shock. Confused at the reply.
“I think it is from Voldemort, but don’t tell anyone I told you that. It is a
conspiracy I tell you. He realizes that he cannot win against me, so he has
resorted to some rather interesting means hasn’t he?” I inquired, wanting to
laugh at his expression, of confusion, and rage. “He probably wants me to think
that someone is sending me love letters, so I’ll fall in love and become
vulnerable. There are probably love spells placed on it, or the ink could have
been soaked in love potion. But he could just be trying to cheer me up. My
godfather just died you know. He could feel sorry for me.”
Those listening started in bafflement. Why would You-Know-Who feel sorry for
Potter, it didn’t make sense? The Slytherins stared at Potter in wonder as he
elegantly confused people.
“What makes you think it came from Tom?” Dumbledore questioned determined to
get to the bottom of this foolery.
“A black bird brought me the letter, therefore it is from Voldemort,” I stated
clearly.
“Just because a bird is black doesn’t mean it is evil, Harry,” Dumbledore
replied softly, but loud enough for most everyone to hear.
“Correct Headmaster,” I said pleased with where this was going. “And just
because we are Slytherins, doesn’t mean we are evil. Just because others are
light wizards doesn’t mean that they are entirely good. Just because someone is
old, doesn’t mean they are wise. Just because someone is powerful doesn’t mean
they are strong. Just because someone makes a mistake doesn’t mean they are
irredeemable. Just because someone has knowledge doesn’t mean they are smart.
Just because someone has killed doesn’t mean they should be condemned. And just
because I said this, doesn’t make it truth. So tell me Professor, which one are
you?”
***** Harsh Words *****
                        Your harsh words, like tweezers
                        Pull at my newly sutured heart
                          Creating an un-healing scar
                      Bleeding a sea of painful memories
                       I gather them in my broken hands
                         Trying to shove them back in
                                Before I drown
                                Chapter Eleven
Albus Dumbledore stared at the boy savior in front of him, slightly shocked
that he would once again challenge him in front of the students and the staff.
Was Potter so sure that he wouldn’t do anything to him with people around that
he was gradually gaining control of his life? He wouldn’t let that happen. He
would make sure that his beloved puppet was tightly on its strings.
A light chuckle reverberated through the hall. “We were talking about the
letter Harry, not myself. And changing the subject will not redirect my
attentions elsewhere. I believe that this is a conversation meant for my
office. After all, we wouldn’t want information getting to the wrong sort now,
would we?” He slyly glanced at the elder Slytherins before looking at Harry.
-
He had evaded the question with the move of a chess master. He knew what I had
been doing… or had he? I still wondered whether others knew he wasn’t as light
and wise as he portrayed himself to be. He himself had said he’d made mistakes,
did that make him irredeemable in the eyes of the world?
No it didn’t, because he covered them up so cleverly that the world saw no
mistakes. They saw no foolishness, no hatred that he might possess, and no
darkness in his soul. They only saw the god that he pretended to be. A god that
would soon fall. “Of course, headmaster. I apologize. I was simply curious and
you know what you always say about questions and curiosity.”
“Indeed dear boy, but now is not the time for such things.” He reached forward
and grabbing my upper arm; he almost lifted me out of my seat and started
dragging me from the hall though it probably looked more like he was helping me
walk, not forcing me to. Even though I would get punished if I didn’t play my
cards right, I knew that I had made progress with the Slytherins. I knew they
heard the challenge in my voice, just as I knew they saw him evade answering.
They were not stupid. I had given them clues and I’m sure they had gathered
some as well. Was it time? Only they could answer that.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of the gargoyle moving
in front of his office. A place where no one would be able to safely venture to
help me if I needed it. I almost laughed at the thought of me needing help. I
had vowed to myself that I wouldn’t need any help, and yet I might, even though
there was no one who could save me. It was ironic really.
“What was with your behavior this morning?” Dumbledore demanded to know,
sounding annoyed.
“I was doing what I had told you I would. I told you that I would try and bring
some of the Slytherins to our side in the war, and to do that I will need to
show them that this is an option. That you are an option. And this was the best
way that I could think of,” I replied, voice full of confidence.
“What are you talking about?”
Another question… he really must have been annoyed. Normally he would do his
old grandfatherly routine and then lay it on thick. However, he seemed more
frantic. Was that the right word? Or perhaps it was panic. He was worried. And
nothing felt more pleasurable in that moment than the thought of Albus
Dumbledore panicking about me.
“They are Slytherins, headmaster. They think differently. I have been observing
them for the past two weeks and they have shown me a few things, not
intentionally at first, but I’m sure that after a while they went back to their
old ways. They have ignored me, which has allowed me to gather information.
They will only side with you if they get something in return,” I began.
“I know what you said at the last meeting we had, however with the…
restrictions that are still placed on me I have not been able to properly
approach them. How am I supposed to save the Wizarding World if you have placed
restrictions on the people I am to save? You gave me an order and I have been
unable to fulfill it,” I concluded.
I knew I was probably laying it on too thick, but this was my only chance. He
would have to take it and he would take it.
Slightly nodding at the response, he stroked his long white beard in thought.
“I can understand where you are coming from, Harry. However, I don’t approve of
how you went about it. Why didn’t you come to me sooner? I would have helped
you.”
“I wanted to do it on my own,” I mumbled slightly abashed. “You gave me an
order, you helped me when I almost went dark from the death of Sirius. You gave
me hope. I am the Savior. How can I save the world when I can’t even save
myself? I wanted to make you believe in me… but I can see that I have failed
yet again. It seems that all I have been doing is failing.”
“That is not true,” his soft voice barely reached my ears. “It seems I have
made a severe fault in judgment. I put many things upon your shoulders, and I
did not give you the time or the mobility to complete those tasks. You are the
Savior, Harry, you do not need to save yourself you have me for that.”
I wanted to snort at that ridiculous statement. Of course, I have to save
myself; you are the one that is making me.
Hearing the mutterings of an incantation of some sort I glanced back up to see
golden light come out of the tip of his wand, weaving its way toward my neck
and wrists. “I have allowed you to speak with the Slytherins. You will be
allowed to eat with them, talk with them, and turn them to our side.”
It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Any more pushing and he would become
even more suspicious than he already was. There was no way that he was ignorant
of my plans. He couldn’t be. Could he? Looking down at my hands, my thoughts
whirled in confusion. Was he setting me free? Or was he baiting a trap? Was
Albus-bloody-Dumbledore really, innocent of my plans and pretending. I didn’t
know which it was. I could probably spend all day trying to figure it out, but
I knew even then that I would be back at square one again. I didn’t have enough
information.
“Thank you. I promise that you won’t regret it.”
“Yes… see to it that I won’t.”
-
“He didn’t answer,” Nott quietly spoke after the two wizards had left the Great
Hall. “Potter had handed him a direct challenge and he refused.” His slightly
confused voice easily carried to those around him.
“Perhaps, he didn’t refuse,” Goyle spoke, for once having an intelligent
answer. “Just because he didn’t accept it here, doesn’t mean he didn’t accept
it in his office.”
The five other Slytherins glanced at him in slight shock. What Goyle had said
made sense, even though he was starting to sound like Potter. For the past few
weeks, they had been gathering information about Potter trying to figure him
out. At first, it was simple. He was Potter, enough said.
However, he gradually began to make their warning bells ring, loudly. He was
different. They hated puzzles as much as they loved them. They loved the thrill
of the chase, and gathering information, they hated when pieces wouldn’t fit
together and the confusion that would result.
He had been giving them clues, slowly but surely. It was like he wanted them to
help him with whatever it was, and then he didn’t want their help. It was
frustrating. What was holding him back? They knew it wasn’t Granger and the
Weasel. He never had any contact with them. With Loony… well whatever she had
meant by those words had changed something in him. It wasn’t very noticeable,
but they had caught it. She had said something important and they could not
decipher it.
Professor Snape had also been looking for information, though more discretely
than Pansy when going through her contacts. Not much information had been
shared or tossed around through the chain of gossips that had learned to listen
to anything and everything.
Either everyone knew nothing, or those who did weren’t talking. It was almost
time to present the information to the professor and see what he would do with
it. They didn’t have much, but it might be just enough to complete what he had
gathered. The professor wasn’t a spy for nothing.
-
Neville glanced at Luna and nodded when she smiled. She knew what was going on
more then he did, and he wouldn’t doubt it that she knew more than anyone here.
She had the special ability to see people as they really were, not who they
portrayed themselves to be.
Getting up from the table, he walked from the Great hall knowing that she would
follow. She knew that he was only loyal to Harry. They were the same. Not
exactly the same, but they’d had most of the same experiences. The loss of
parents, ending up with relatives where they were hated by, thought inadequate
to perform the tasks given. They could almost have been brothers.
Neville knew of the prophecy. He had been told it when they had gotten back
from the Department of Mysteries. He had held his best friend, almost brother,
in his arms as he cried for the death of his only relative that had cared for
him and Neville had vowed he would help him.
Something had been off when he’d met Harry. Something had been interfering with
his magic. Magic that should have rightfully been his. However there was some…
object holding it back. An object that would one day kill him if it wasn’t
removed. Not many knew that he could see auras, but then, not many cared to
ask. It was a gift that had been passed down in his mother’s family, and it was
only luck that he had acquired it.
It was only with that luck that he had discovered one of Harry’s secrets. It
had taken five long years of research and planning that he hadn’t had before,
but he had found it. He was a slave to Dumbledore. That one fact, that one
moment, had changed everything. It had opened his eyes and shown him what a
manipulative bastard Dumbledore really was. The man proclaimed to have fought
evil and won. The man proclaimed to be everything righteous and good.
Pacing in front of the bare wall three times, he waited for the door to appear
before entering the Room of Requirements. Sitting on the black sofa that
appeared next to a dark brown armchair he patiently waited for her arrival.
What would he do with the information she would impart to him? What could he do
with the information? Their opponent was Albus Dumbledore. No one would be able
to go against someone lik… Voldemort. Voldemort would go against Dumbledore.
Voldemort had been going against him and though he may be losing, he wouldn’t
be for long.
The sound of the door opening brought him out of his amusing thoughts. What he
learned here in this very room could change the tide of the war.
“Neville,” her soft voice echoed in the chamber. It was time.
“Luna.” He nodded before continuing, “You know.”
“I do.” She silvery eyes shown with pride as she took in the young man before
her. Yes, everything was going to plan. The Black Sheep would soon be free.
“Tell me,” his harsh voice demanded. He wasn’t mad at her; he was pissed at
himself for not have realizing this sooner. How could he have been blind for so
long. It was true that he had been trying to figure out what had been
suppressing some of his magic and controlling his actions. However, he should
have been more aware. He should have realized it was the headmaster long before
he had. He should have noticed that if Dumbledore hadn’t removed the thing;
that it had been placed there by him, but he hadn’t. And now Harry was
suffering for it.
“The Weaver is the one with the power to change the symbols. The Shepherd gave
it that power. And while the Weevil has no knowledge in this, it too has been
corrupted. The Black Sheep is in need of help, though it does not bleat. It is
time for the Cowardly Lion to gain its courage and save the sheep, leading the
flock to the Big Bad Wolf. Should the Lion refuse, all that will be left is
meat on the table and fleece sheered for winter. There is a pack of wolves
disguised as gray sheep among us, waiting for the opportune moment. And that
moment is upon us. So tell me Lion, are you brave enough to enter into the
wolves den?”
A vicious smile spread across his face mirroring her own. “I’m ready.”
-
Severus Snape glanced at the six students before him. They had asked for a
meeting and though first period would start in forty-five minutes, he gave it
to them curious as to what they wished to discuss.
They had been busy the last few weeks. It had become apparent that they were
searching for information and not getting the desired results. However, they
had to have come across something to want to present it to him this early. What
they had been searching for he didn’t know, due to him looking up information
on Potter, but he was curious none-the-less.
“We have been gathering information about Potter,” Draco spoke without
prompting knowing that his godfather hated being played with. “Ever since he
was re-sorted he has changed. I’m sure that you have noticed it as well.” He
paused waiting for the answer.
“Indeed,” Severus drawled. “He is being controlled,” he imparted, confident
that they would keep their gobs shut. He didn’t trust people lightly so they’d
better remember that.
“Controlled?” Crabbe inquired a bit confused. “Why would someone want to
control Potter?”
“Because they don’t want him going to the wrong side you brainless twit. If
Potter was under someone’s control, they could make him do what they wanted and
he would have no say. They would be able to make him into the perfect Savior.
However, I must question this conclusion as well, sir. Why would they be afraid
of potter turning dark?”
“And that Mr. Nott, is something I do not know. I have not been able to find
valid clues on that subject, however I am positive that is what’s happening.
The knowledge I am about to impart to you will not be spoken of out of this
room, or current company. Is that understood?”
Getting the vows that he requested, Snape continued. “The Dark Lord has given
me explicit instructions to guard Mr. Potter at all times. And when I am not
able to do so, the task falls to you. Should you fail he said and I quote: ‘If
he comes to any harm under the protection of yourself and the Slytherins, you
will discover just how many lethal dark spells I have learned in the past
seventy years.’ I suggest you take that warning to heart.”
“What did he do to get the Dark Lord…” Pansy’s voice trailed off not bothering
to finish the sentence since she knew everyone there was probably thinking the
same thing.
“It’s Dumbledore,” Blaise Zabini finally spoke up for the first time since the
meeting had started.
“That is indeed what the Dark Lord and I believe,” Snape responded.
Blaise shook his head. “There is no ‘belief’ about it. It is Dumbledore. On the
second day of school, right after breakfast, I followed Potter to the dungeons.
I wanted to question him after he had given that speech. I was curious as to
what had changed him. I knew that even though he had stayed away from us he
would attack us given the chance if we started it. So, I was curious as to why
he would be put into our house. At first it didn’t make sense, but then I
realized.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued his account of that day. “Dumbledore had
apparently cornered him in the dungeons and started questioning him and then
when that didn’t work he tortured him.”
Eyes looked at him with slight disbelief. Albus Dumbledore had tortured Harry
Potter in the middle of the corridor?
“I’m not lying. I’m not sure what the curse was, because I couldn’t hear it, I
only heard the piercing screams that followed.” He shuddered slightly. “That
was what made me convinced that something was wrong. So, I mentioned it vaguely
to Nott who gathered everyone together to figure out the Harry Potter Mystery.”
“What were the symptoms of that curse?” Severus questioned, intent on proving a
thought he’d had for the past few days.
Thinking hard back to that day, his dark eyes went distant and slightly glazed
as he went through the whole event another time, trying to spot what his
teacher was looking for. “Shaking… more like spasms.”
“Cruciatus,” Draco whispered.
Four sets of eyes redirected their attention to him for a split second before
turning back to their teacher in surprise.
“You three think that the headmaster used the Cruciatus Curse on Potter? Are
you insane? He wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“Perhaps,” Severus allowed. “However there is no denying that he did something,
and those symptoms are related to that curse. Whether he was intelligent in
making that decision or not is not the issue now. He avoided the question in
the Great Hall, which was a direct challenge to the headmaster. Even if it
wasn’t the Cruciatus Curse, what do you think he could be doing to young Mr.
Potter after that little episode?”
“Well then, what are we waiting for? We have to do something! I know that I
hate Potter, but it is also apparent that he is being controlled.”
Severus glanced at the teenagers in front of him in slight disgust. “Fools. Do
you really think that we can go against Albus Dumbledore and win? Have your
hormones addled your brains? We can do nothing right now. And we can’t do
anything until Potter comes to us.”
“And if he doesn’t, sir?” Nott asked.
“Then, I believe that the Dark Lord will be more than thrilled to fulfill that
promise of his.”
-
When potions finally came around all parties were full of questions and plans
that would soon be in motion. Harry planning on getting closer to the
Slytherins, Neville with the plans to tell the Slytherins everything he knew
about Harry, and the Slytherins waiting for Harry to confront them.
-
Severus glanced over his waiting students and smirked. This was one of his
favorite times of the day. The chance to torment brainless children who had no
hope of passing his class. It was what made his stay in the castle somewhat
pleasant.
“Today you will be making the Animagus Potion required for Transfiguration. You
will have two days to complete it. If it is not complete for some reason,” he
stared at Neville before continuing his speech, “You will not be able to take
the class. I have spoken with Professor McGonagall and she agrees that if you
cannot properly brew this potion, you will have no chance of completing the
required steps in the process of becoming an animagus. And because of that, you
will be working with a partner.”
He smirked at the groans coming from the students. It would be so simple to
sabotage the potion, which is why he decided to pair them together. It would
make it more difficult to get the desired results, which would in turn weed out
those who were too weak to seek the form that would be granted to them.
As he went down the prepared list and called out names, he paused briefly
before saying, “Potter, Granger.”
In the past he would have gloated at the look of hate plastered on Potter’s
face directed at him; however this time it was simply alarming. He and the
other Slytherins suspected Dumbledore was controlling the boy, but what did
that have to do with the Granger girl? What role did she play?
-
I wanted to bolt from class. Really, I did, but I knew that would raise even
more suspicions. What had Snape been thinking? Was he so conceited and self-
absorbed that he never considered other people’s feelings? I had thought that’d
changed. It hadn’t been a big change no, but it had been there for me to see.
He had been worried about me when the Weasel had attacked. He had fixed me up.
No one had ever done that other than Madame Pomfrey. I had started to slowly
appreciate him. I still believed that he was my way to freedom, and he had just
put me with one of the ones who had caused my imprisonment.
“Harry…”
“It’s Potter to you Granger. I only let my friends call me Harry, and you are
obviously not one of them,” I quietly whispered short on patience. I already
had a meeting with the headmaster; I didn’t need to have to talk to her as
well. “You go get the ingredients while I set up. You can do that can’t you?”
I watched as her mouth opened and closed a few times, doing a perfect imitation
of a fish, before she answered subdued, “Of course.” My eyes trailed over her
form as she grabbed the required things needed for the potion before I started
setting up the cauldron after reading the instructions on the blackboard.
“Har…” A glare silenced that name that she was about to flippantly speak. She
hadn’t the right to use it. “Potter, what did I do wrong? You’ve been different
all year, ever since you got re-sorted. I thought that we were friends.”
“We have never been friends, Granger. We have never been the Gryffindor Trio.
It has only been me.” The sad response made her eyes widen in slight shock. Had
she expected anything different? “You would have been special, Granger, but you
missed your chance. You missed it before you even had it. Tell me Ms. Granger,
did you find anything interesting in the library lately? I hear you are
interested in runes.” My voice spoke of betrayal and was coated in hate.
“Who?” She demanded in a slightly louder voice than we had been talking in
before, gaining the attention of some of the students working nearby. “Who told
you?”
“You don’t deserve to know, Granger. You have never deserved to know. Did you
think that I would thank you? Did you? Or did you only care about yourself and
your education? Was that the only important thing to you?” I demanded, drawing
even more attention to our argument. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if people
started rumors, I didn’t care if they asked questions about what we were
talking about; I just didn’t care.
“Yes.” Her response was almost the breaking point. I had suspected Ron. How
could I not? He was stupid, hotheaded, and was easily jealous, he betrayed
people.
She was the one person I would’ve believed wasn’t involved. It would have been
my best friend that always stuck by me. Always supported me in everything I
did. Always loved me for who I was. It would have been Hermione.
When Luna had said her name, I had been shocked and was slowly breaking inside.
A huge part of me had wanted to deny that fact. However, a smaller more logical
part of me knew that she was smart enough to have done it. Smart enough to have
betrayed me. Smart enough to have researched the runes.
So, I had pushed it to the back of my mind. I imagined needles that would
pierce my chest when I thought about her. I knew I wasn’t ready to confront her
without hurting her, but my mouth and my heart was saying it didn’t matter. It
didn’t matter, because she hurt me more than I could hurt her.
It was time for her to feel the guilt. It was time for her to feel the pain.
So, I sat there and watched as tears began to roll down her red cheeks. I sat
there and felt vindication that she was hurt and that I was the one who had
hurt her.
“Is that what you want to hear?” She almost screamed in what sounded like pain
and frustration. “Does it make you feel better knowing that it was me?”
“Yes. It makes me feel better knowing that you feel pain. It makes me feel
better knowing that for the rest of your life you will live in that pain. You
said that you were my best friend. That you cared for me. You have a great way
of showing that.” I almost smiled at her wince. “You have proven to me yet
again that the Wizarding World is not worth saving. So tell me, Granger… how
does it feel to have destroyed the dreams of a little boy, who became your
friend, only to have him leave you in eternal hell?”
***** Call Your Name *****
                             If I called your name
                              Would you hear me?
                        With this silent voice of mine
                  I can’t tear my eyes from your fleeing back
                            My legs frozen in place
                           If I only had the courage
                          To say what was on my mind
                         Then maybe you would be more
                               Than an illusion
                                Chapter Twelve
The loud sound of silence echoed in the chamber. My blazing eyes riddled with
anger stared at the person I once called friend. It had only been a brief
moment in time, but it had been there. It was because of her that I was
trapped. It was because of this filthy Mudblood in front of me that I was not
allowed to be myself.
I was a puppet, and she was the one who handed my strings over to the Master.
It was heartbreaking. Heartbreaking that I ever trusted her. Ever thought that
she was worth all of the pain that I had suffered. I wanted to scream. I wanted
to hex her into oblivion. I wanted her to not exist.
My fingers itched with the desire to grab my wand. I wanted her to experience
all of my pain and suffering. I wanted her to know that I would never forgive
her. She had done too much, and now it was too late. She was trying to gain
forgiveness that I wouldn’t be able to give. Forgiveness I didn’t want to give.
For years, I have been controlled and forced to do what I never wanted to do.
She would not make me do this for her. In my eyes, she didn’t deserve it. She
didn’t have power over me anymore. In that moment, as I stared into her pain
filled brown eyes that once held false affection, I realized that she no longer
mattered.
I had been angry with her, enraged that one so young had decided my fate before
I had the chance to protest or defend myself. She’d been the ball and chain
that had repeatedly dragged me under the water I’d been trying to tread.
Nevertheless, she was no longer important. She was simply there. A shadow. A
person that didn’t deserve my attention. She no longer existed.
-
Glossy brown eyes blurrily gazed into the green eyes of her once best friend.
She’d wanted to apologize to him. Tell him that she was wrong. That Hermione
Jane Granger, smartest witch of their year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry was wrong. It sounded impossible to her ears.
It sounded like a nightmare that she would wake up from. A night terror that
would haunt her until the dawn broke through her curtains to prove that
everything was all right. That Harry hadn’t found out her secret, or that
someone had granted her wish that she was never a witch.
She would have dreams that Hogwarts and magic weren’t real. That they were an
illusion that she made up because she wanted something to believe in. She would
have dreams that she had never met a special boy named Harry. That she never
forced him into slavery.
When she heard what witches and wizards did to house-elves, she was the first
one to try and gain them rights. She was the first one to want them free. She
was the first one to say it was inhumane. However, in all that time not once
did she look at the collar around Harry’s neck and think the same.
Not once did she look at him and think: You deserve to be free, because you are
human. You are my friend. You deserve to be free because it is your right.
She looked at him for the longest time and only thought: It is my job. People
need you; therefore, you will do everything you are told. You are not important
enough. Your desires, your dreams, your hopes, and your thoughts do not matter.
They are inconsequential to the wizarding world.
It had taken almost five years before those thoughts had changed. In those five
years, she had gotten closer to the one called Harry Potter. She’d thought that
she could be his friend without getting close. That she could be his friend and
not change her views.
She was wrong. Her views changed. An insane man hoping for a pawn he could use,
and then throw away, had warped them. Hermione was the one who had given the
chess master the most valuable piece. The king. The pawn. The rook. The knight.
The sword. The shield.
The king could be dethroned, the pawn could easily be replaced, the rook could
be systematically destroyed brick by brick, the knight could be slain and then
heralded as a hero, the sword could become dull and useless, and the shield
could be cracked and discarded. Harry was destined to become all of those
things because she’d handed Dumbledore the slab of white marble, and a chisel.
Dumbledore had the power to change him into any one of those pieces, because of
her.
As she stared into those blank cold eyes, she discovered her worth. Nothing.
She only saw nothingness. She was no longer important. She didn’t matter. She
was only a fool, chasing after a person who would never look at her again.
Never acknowledge her.
To the person she loved as a brother, she was dead.
-
“Miss Granger, fifty points from Gryffindor for your pathetic attempt at
sabotaging Mr. Potter. If you are finished with your melodramatic episode of
self-pity, and loathing I highly recommend you desist further actions and
assist Mr. Potter in creating the required potion.” His sharp voice sliced
through the silence.
“If you fail to do so, you will not only get a ‘T’ on your assignment, but a
week of detention with Filch. I’m assured that he will be able to assign you
something that your level of expertise will be able to complete since it is
prominently ostensible that you do not contain the skills required for a class
of this caliber.” Snape’s degrading words shocked many of the students, while
the Slytherins snickered.
Snape sneered at the Muggle-born. There was nothing he loathed more than people
like her. When the Gryffindor Trio was formed in first-year, he’d thought of
them as mini-Marauders.
Harry Potter was exactly like James Potter, arrogant and foolhardy. Ronald
Weasley was Sirius Black, a jealous idiot that loved to disparage anything
Slytherin or Dark. Hermione Granger was Remus Lupin, intelligent but ignorant
of the world and not strong enough to stand up for what they believed in.
The only one thought to have been missing was the traitor Peter Pettigrew.
However, over the past few weeks Snape discovered that Peter hadn’t been
missing. He had been hiding in the core personality of Granger and Weasley.
They went from his best friends, Black and Lupin to the traitor Pettigrew. It
was disgusting.
He knew the concept of playing both sides of the war. He was a veteran in that
line of work. It was his profession, his second life’s work. He was fighting
for a better world. A world where Dumbledore had no control. A world where
there would be no more Peters lying in wait to destroy what little they had.
-
Neville Longbottom shot a glance to the left side of the room where Harry sat,
while he chopped the main ingredient that was required for the potion. It was a
miracle that Snape allowed him in the class after that last mishap that sent
five people to the hospital wing with Medusa-like hair and boils. It was rather
amusing now that he thought about it since he hadn’t been one of the ones
affected.
Everyone refused to pair up with him before the incident, and now it was even
worse. Snape gave points to anyone who volunteered. Other times when he was in
one of his ‘good moods,’ which was rare, Snape would pair him with one of his
Slytherins since they were more adept at the art.
Therefore, he was currently working on the Animagus Potion with Blaise Zabini,
the student with the third highest grade after Granger and Malfoy. He had the
utmost confidence that Blaise would do a great job, and that it wouldn’t blow
up. He hoped.
“You don’t deserve to know, Granger. You have never deserved to know. Did you
think that I would thank you? Did you? Or did you only care about yourself and
your education? Was that the only important thing to you?”
Harry’s voice drew his attention almost making Neville cut one of his fingers,
as he wasn’t heeding what he was doing. Neville sighed at the conversation that
followed. Harry was almost at his breaking point. Luna had been right. Harry
needed him more then ever now.
Neville wasn’t noticed often, unless he blew something up, or made a huge
fumble. It was one of the reasons why Luna had called on him. He would be able
to work in the shadows, and she knew that Harry still trusted him. Neville was
loyal to those he befriended. He would never betray Harry as the other two-
thirds of the Gryffindor Trio had.
It was currently his job to get Harry close to the Slytherins, and help in any
way possible. Luna was a Seer. She wasn’t a fraud like Trelawney who only
successfully foretold one in her entire life. She was a true Seer that saw
visions in metaphors. Harry was the Black Sheep. Dumbledore was the Shepherd,
and so on. It was a valuable and yet dangerous power.
If she wasn’t able to decode the message, many lives could be lost or ruined.
It was a talent and curse. A gift would that required hours of patience and a
strong mind to hone the power. If one were not able to control the visions,
then the Seer would gradually go insane from all of the information. They would
be trapped in a world of ‘could have been’ or ‘should have been,’ and ‘what
if.’
Glancing at his dark skinned partner Neville drew a deep breath before asking,
“How is Harry doing in Slytherin?”
A black brow rose in surprise at the question. Why would Longbottom care?
Potter and him weren’t close. They were never seen together. It wasn’t as if
they were friends. “Adequate.”
“Am I allowed to visit?” He continued ignoring the piercing gaze.
“You’re a Gryffindor,” Blaise stated as if that one word expressed everything
that needed to be said.
“And you are a Slytherin. My name is Neville Longbottom, while yours is Blaise
Zabini… now that the introductions are out of the way, will you answer the
bloody question?” He snapped. He didn’t mind people who wanted to protect his
friend from danger. No, what he hated were presumptuous ignorant people who
never watched the world around them, or gathered the right information.
He inwardly groaned. He sounded like Snape.
“Why are you so adamant about visiting Potter?” Blaise answered with a
question.
“Because I want to poison him in his sleep, you stupid git,” Neville
sarcastically retorted. At the narrowed gaze, Neville sighed. Taking his
current frustration and anger out on his companion wasn’t going to get him into
Blaise’s good graces, let alone their common room.
“He’s my friend. I’ve not been able to communicate with him for over two weeks.
I would just like to see how he’s doing,” Neville reasoned.
“You can see him from here. He’s doing fine,” Blaise argued. He didn’t want the
typically bumbling Longbottom anywhere near their common room. He was acting
strange. Normally he would stutter and second-guess himself. He’d changed as
much as Potter had changed.
What happened to them?
Rolling his eyes, Neville stated, “Of course, because finding out that your
best friends betrayed you, would make you perfectly fine. He isn’t a robot,”
Neville growled. “He is a human being that has feelings. He is a human that has
so many masks, it would put your pathetic Slytherin ones to shame.” Neville
dropped in the chopped ingredients as he talked. Not wanting to mess up the
potion. They only had one chance to get it right.
“He isn’t the Golden Boy. He isn’t the Hero of the Light. He is a young wizard
that just found out the truth. Tell me Zabini, how would you feel if you
discovered your whole life was a lie?” Neville raised his head to look the dark
chocolate boy in the eye.
“How important is it that you visit with him? The I’m-going-to-feel-bad-until-
I-do, kind of important, or the a-thousand-people-are-going-to-die-if-I-don’t,
kind of important?
Lowering his voice to barely a whisper, Neville leaned over the cauldron in
pretense of checking the color before speaking. “The high possibility of
changing allegiances kind of important.” Dark brown almost black eyes locked
with a much lighter shade. Baring the truth to Blaise for a few seconds before
Neville leaned back and began measuring the next ingredient.
Wisely thinking about it first before spouting off a random meaningless answer,
Blaise nodded in acquiescence to his point. “I’ll speak to Professor Snape
tonight. We are not allowed to bring anyone into the common room without his
permission. Happy?” He questioned. It was all he could promise now. The rest
would be up to his Head of House.
“Ecstatic,” Neville deadpanned.
-
Luna’s silver eyes trailed the path of a blue bird flying in the bright morning
sky, its vibrantly colored feathers putting it to shame. Classes weren’t
important right now. She never had to study. She knew what the teachers were
going to say before they did. She knew what was going to be on the tests. So
listening to them ramble on was pointless.
She only liked listening to things she didn’t know, or foresee. Those were
rare. That was why she loved talking to Harry Potter. She almost never had
visions of him. She wasn’t able to read his next move. She couldn’t hear what
he was going to say. She could only wait and see what he would do next.
He was a breath of fresh air in her constantly changing world of color and
visions. He was her hope. Her hope for the future. A future where she would be
free from her burden.
Her mother had been a Seer before she died when Luna was only nine. She
foretold that Luna would help create a world that would free all Seers. That
the one she was destined to help would be different. Her mother never said what
would be different. Only that she would know when she met them.
It had taken six years to find him. Six years to find the one she had been
destined to help. She had waited patiently. She’d known that her mother would
never lie. Therefore, she’d simply believed that when the time was right she
would meet him.
Luna had known that Harry was the one the second she met him on the train. He
was the only person that she hadn’t been able to read when she shook his hand.
She’d been unable to get glimpses of his past when his hand had been in hers.
She had two special kinds of Seer abilities. When a person put their hand in
her own for the first time, or brushed against her bare flesh, she would be
able to get a small glimpse of their past and a flicker of an event that they
would be present for in the future.
Her other ability was seeing in metaphors. Each important person she
encountered, spoke with, or talked with, was given a name to represent what he
or she was. Dumbledore was the Shepard. Harry was the Black Sheep. Neville was
the Cowardly Lion. Hermione was the Weaver.
Their importance pertained to what changes they would create in this world and
in the new world that she was trying to create. Many important people would
soon be lost in the shadows, while more would step into the light. It was an
ever-changing future, based on their decisions.
Her silver eyes grew clouded and swirled with an inner power as something
changed in the possible outcome. A slow smile spread across her face. Another
ally.
Tossing her beaded blonde hair over her shoulder, Luna quickly gathered up her
things. It was time for the bell to dismiss them. Picking up her bag, she
headed to her next class almost dancing as she sang a song that rang with a
sense of foreboding for the Light Side in the crowded halls of Hogwarts.
“Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep, and can’t tell where to find them. Leave
them alone, and they’ll come home, wagging their tails behind them. Little Bo
Peep fell fast asleep, and dreamt she heard them bleating; But when she awoke,
she found it a joke, for they were still a-fleeting.”
***** Grasping The Future *****

                               Chapter Thirteen
                  Grasping the future with these broken hands
                  The thoughts of puerile dreams turn to dust
                      My demons haunt the waking moments
                        Your presence stalks the night
                           What choices would I make
                           To rip me from your side?
                              This is not the end
                                  It never is
Impossible. It had to be wrong. The word printed before me had to be wrong –
there was nothing more to say. I wouldn’t accept what the books said. I
couldn’t accept it, because to accept it would mean to give up. It would mean
that I had nothing left to hope for. It would mean that nothing in this
godforsaken world would be able to help me.
This tome had been my last hope to finding a way out from under Dumbledore’s
thumb. I had put all of my faith in Aberforth Dumbledore, and the only book
he’d ever written. It, like so many others, had failed me.
Closing the books with a loud snap, I hurled the rare book across the room in
anger and despair, watching in satisfaction as it crashed into the wall, and
crumpled to the floor. I was finished. I had nothing left to research – I would
forever be trapped as the Headmaster’s puppet.
Blood – the only way to take off the collar and bracelets was for a relative to
willingly remove them. My parents were dead, and there was no way I would ever
ask Aunt Petunia. She was the one who’d enslaved me in the first place. I knew
she didn’t realize what she had been doing at the time or what the consequences
would be, but that still hadn’t made it right.
She should have questioned Dumbledore. She should have put up more of a fight.
However, to her I was still not important enough to care about.
“Wow Potter, taking your anger out on defenseless inanimate objects must do
wonders for your pride. After all, they can’t fight back. I can feel your-”
“Sod off Malfoy, I’m not in the mood for any of your mind games.” I didn’t know
how much longer I would be able to stay in control. I couldn’t help but want to
give in. I had nothing left.
-
“Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Zabini came before me after dinner this evening and
presented me with your request. I found it illogical that you would make such a
request given our history; therefore, I demand an explanation. What makes you
so positive that Mr. Potter will benefit from your esteemed presence?”
Neville took a deep breath, trying to quail his shaking. The only thing that
Professor Snape hated more than a dunderhead was a spineless coward. Neville
knew that self-preservation and being a coward were not the same thing. Self-
preservation was saving your own life, while being cowardly was saving yourself
and damning another in the process. He would not be a coward.
Squaring his jaw, he glanced up and stared into the black eyes that had
tormented him so many times in the past. The glares, the anger, and the
spiteful words. None of that mattered right now. All that Neville Longbottom
cared about was helping his best friend.
“I can set him free,” he answered honestly. He was positive that he would be
able to set Harry free. If not completely, then at least for a while, until
they were able to comprise a plan.
Disdainful eyes narrowed on the young man before them. “You?”
“Yes, me, because I’m able to do something that you will never be able to. I’m
able to look at him and see just Harry. I know him. Can you say the same? After
all of these years tormenting and belittling him, can you, Professor Snape, say
the same thing? I suggest you consider these words, sir, because when you stop
thinking of him as Harry, and only think of him as ‘boy’ or ‘Potter’ you take
one step closer to becoming Dumbledore.”
Yellowed teeth ground together at the bold insult. The sallow man wanted to
flay the impudent Gryffindor for the blatant disrespect – however he held his
tongue, knowing that nothing would come of it. Somehow, in the last few weeks
the lamb of Gryffindor had turned into its namesake, and all for the sake of
Potter. It was ridiculous. What was so special about the boy that caused such
loyalty in his true friends?
“The current password is Regimus Confuto.” Turning on his heel he stalked
towards the door, his robes billowing behind him before stopping and throwing a
slightly appreciative glance over his shoulder. “One point to Gryffindor for
finally showing your true colors.”
-
Luna smiled serenely as she watched the events unfolding. Everything was going
as she’d Seen. It would only be a matter of time before Little Bo Peep lost
more sheep. It was time for the Tin Man to find his heart – just as it was time
for Goldilocks to find out the truth, the reason why The Black Sheep refused
Goldilocks’ hand in friendship.
Closing her swirling silver eyes, she sighed in pleasure. It would be okay,
everything would be okay, she would see to it. Nothing was going to stop her,
not when she was so close to her goal, not when she’d vowed to free Harry from
the puppet master’s grasp. She would fulfill that vow, just as Harry would
fulfill the vow to create a world that would free all Seers.
He’d vowed that they would be protected and safe. That no one would try and
enslave them. That no one would force them to foresee the future. She believed
in Harry. She knew that he would never forget a promise. Just as she knew that
when that world came to be, she would lose her powers. She would finally be
free from her gift – her curse.
-
Hermione glanced around the common room in satisfaction. She knew everyone in
Gryffindor. She’d memorized every face and every name. It had been required
since she’d started her first year, and her project. Though she no longer
wanted anything to do with the project given to her by Dumbledore, she still
practiced. She wanted to know who would be potential allies and who would be
enemies.
It was a pity that everyone was against Harry, except two. Herself, and him.
She refused to think of his name. She refused to put him in that kind of danger
– she didn’t know who was a master at Legilimency. She would do her best to
keep suspicion away from him while he did the thing that she couldn’t, and
stayed by Harry’s side.
“Hey Hermione!” the other third of the broken Gryffindor Trio almost bellowed
in her ear, gaining her attention.
Sighing she rubbed at the beginnings of a headache. Why did she have to put up
with him?
“Yes Ron?”
“Can I borrow your notes for Herbology?” he pleaded.
She grit her teeth in annoyance – she hated Ronald, he wasn’t her friend, he’d
never cared about her. Yet, there was nothing she could do about it. There was
no way she would be able to ditch the prat without bringing more attention from
Dumbledore. She needed to stay partway hidden for her plans to work. She needed
to make sure that the Headmaster wouldn’t be able to link it back to her.
However, she knew that was a dream. There was no way that she would go
unpunished if – no, when, Harry escaped.
Forcing the thoughts to the back of her mind she plastered her lecture face on,
before she tore into the ignorant, bullheaded, poor excuse of a wizard.
“Ronald, No you cannot borrow my notes. I am not your secretary. I have
repeatedly told you that I will not help you with your homework, let alone help
you cheat. It is only a year before we are required to complete our N.E.W.T.s.
A year! I will not allow you to distract me with your ignorant questions. I
have to study. I have no problem if you ask me to explain something, however I
refuse to give you the answers. Just because Harry is not one of us, doesn’t
mean that I have changed.”
Ron’s face flushed in annoyance. He’d thought that his girlfriend would have
helped him. She wanted him to get good scores didn’t she? She knew he wanted to
be an Auror. How dare she refuse! It would be her fault if he didn’t get the
proper scores to get into the program.
“Fine! I’ll ask Neville.” He quickly started gathering his books before
Hermione’s next words stalled him.
“Honestly Ronald, do you never listen? Professor Sprout asked for his help in
the greenhouses today for extra credit. Which he deserves, since he actually
pays attention in that class! Now either do the work your own bloody self, or
leave. You’ve wasted enough of my time.” She didn’t bother seeing what he would
do. She had a three-foot long essay due tomorrow in Ancient Runes. Runes – she
hated that subject. Sighing, she reread the passage and then continued to
answer the questions. The sooner it was out of the way, the sooner she could
forget about them.
-
Blood – only blood would set me free – my blood. It was something so simple
that I wanted to cry. After all of these years of searching, and I was now at
an end. I would forever be trapped by Dumbledore and his machinations.
It wasn’t fair. After everything I had done: the tests at the end of every
year, the pain of losing my precious people. Why was Fate against me? What had
I done to deserve this? My anger grew as I thought about it. Nothing, I had
done nothing to deserve the pain I had gone through. I could vaguely feel my
control slip, but I didn’t care. I wanted to hurt something; I wanted to make
it feel as much pain as I’d felt.
The sharp surprise of pain ripped off the shroud of fog and anger, making me
blink in shock at the offender in front of me. Raising my hand to my throbbing
cheek, I continued to stare stupidly at the other boy. “Neville?”
“Don’t you ‘Neville’ me you stupid pathetic prat. I thought Slytherins were
supposed to be cunning and smart and ambitious. How you got into this house
amazes me, as it seems that you have none of those traits,” he spat, his face
flushed.
I froze. He was right – I had given up. Yet, as those words registered, I
couldn’t help but think that while they were true, they also wouldn’t help me.
It was pointless. So why was he here?
Sighing I rubbed my tired face with my hands, trying to rub away my exhaustion.
It wasn’t working. I was tired of this game. I just wanted it to end. “Why are
you here Neville? How did you even get in here? I doubt a Slytherin told you.”
I watched in slight confusion as he took a deep breath before sitting down in
the chair next to me. “I came to help you. You’re not alone; you have many
friends, even if you are a prat.” His face flushed a deep red as he continued,
“As for how, IaskedSnapeandhegavemethepasswordafterIyelledathim.”
“What?”
“I said that I asked Snape and he gave me the password after I yelled at him.”
Neville yelled at Snape? Shy Neville? The one who was so terrified of Snape
that if he even looked in Neville’s general direction he would start to stutter
and more than likely pass out? I burst out laughing at the thought, clutching
my stomach. “Y-yy-you yelled a-at S-Snape? I w-wish I-I-I coul-d-d have seen-
n t-that!” When I finally thought I was calm enough to look at him I glanced
over only to see him looking nervously around the room, which only set me off
again. He could tell off Snape, but not be in the same room as a handful of
Slytherins?
“It wasn’t that funny, Potter!” a familiar arrogant voice drawled from across
the room.
I looked over in surprise at the words. Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, I
opened my mouth to reply only to have Neville intervene.
“I didn’t come here so I could watch you two quarrel. I see that enough outside
of your common room as it is. I actually have a purpose for coming here. I’m
not stupid enough to brave the Wolves’ Den without having a purpose,” the only
Gryffindor calmly stated, breaking up the argument before it could begin.
“Don’t you mean Snakes’ Nest, Longbottom?” Draco asked. They were snakes not
wolves.
“No, I meant Wolves’ Den,” he repeated not taking his eyes off of mine.
It was him. A small smile barely stretched my lips as I stared at my friend
that hadn’t left my side since first year. He was still with me. Perhaps with
them both on my side I had a chance. It might be miniscule, but I had one. I
gave a nod, letting him know that I understood before I leaned back in my chair
waiting for him to continue.
Neville smirked before starting where he last left off as if we were the only
ones in the room. Moreover, as far as we were concerned we were the only ones
in the room. There was no way they would understand the conversation we were
about to have.
“Mother Goose has sent you a message, and it is one we must heed – to ignore it
would be dangerous. Little Bo Peep is losing her sheep, and more will soon
follow. Some will be saved, while others will be led to the slaughter. The
Cowardly Lion vows to help the Black Sheep, by leading it to the Big Bad Wolf.
Only then, will the Black Sheep be free, and be able to go into greener
pastures.” Neville spoke complete nonsense that would have everyone baffled,
except for the two of us. We were the only people in the room that understood
the riddle.
“The Big Bad Wolf?” I asked.
Neville’s eyes grew slightly wider as he understood what I was asking. He shot
a quick glance over at the table full of Slytherins who used to be my enemies.
There was a valid question in his honey-eyed gaze: Did I trust them? Did I
really trust them?
Looking over my shoulder, I stared into narrowed gray eyes. I watched as
emotion after emotion flitted across them. Confusion, annoyance, and others
that I couldn’t decipher. The longer I looked the more sure of myself I was. I
would trust Draco and his friends for the simple fact that I wanted – no,
needed to. I needed something to believe in. He was my hope.
Turning back to Neville I nodded once in assent. My life was going to be in
their hands and they didn’t even know it.
“Yes Harry, Voldemort. I’m going to take you to Voldemort, and they,” Neville
said as he glanced behind me sporting a widening smirk, “are going to help us.”
-
Draco froze at the words. The Dark Lord? What were they planning? Why would
Neville Longbottom volunteer to take Potter to the Dark Lord? Were they
suicidal? Had the death of Potter’s godfather really tipped him over the edge
as the papers had said? Was Neville in a similar mental position with the
torture of his parents that made them insane? Draco had heard from his gleeful
aunt when she had escaped from Azkaban that they had also tortured Neville. Was
that affecting him right now?
“What are you two blathering about?” he demanded. First Potter had been acting
strange the last couple of weeks and now Neville was telling Potter that they
were going to the Dark Lord!
Neville narrowed his honeyed eyes at the arrogant, spiteful Slytherin. For the
longest time he’d hated Draco – not because he was a prat, but because he was
related to Bellatrix Lestrange. He knew that Draco had no part in the torture
of his parents, but he’d wanted to hurt him just the same. He had wanted
revenge for the longest time. The only thing that had stopped him had been
Harry.
His first friend had been and still was in danger of losing himself. He had
devoted himself to helping Harry throughout the school years. He would break up
fights, help Ron with his homework if it gave Harry more time alone, and he
stood by Harry no matter the rumor or danger. In return for that unwavering
loyalty, Neville had gotten the same. Harry was his friend and always would be
because they trusted each other implicitly.
Nothing was going to change that, especially not Draco Malfoy. Neville knew
that Harry wanted to be friends with Malfoy and he had no problem with that.
Neville believed that Harry had the right to choose who his friends were, and
who weren’t. It was his right as a human being. Neville would stand back and
let Harry try and befriend the annoying git, but he would watch Malfoy. He
wasn’t about to let his best friend get hurt because of a stupid teenager who
was still holding a grudge about first year. It hadn’t been Harry’s fault that
he had refused Malfoy’s hand.
He only hoped that when Malfoy found out the truth he would give Harry another
chance. It was all that Harry wanted. Another chance at life.
“We were talking about taking Harry to Voldemort and asking for his help,” he
finally replied after thinking for a few minutes. “And because Harry trusts
you, you will be helping us with this task. Is that understood?”
-
I continued to stare at Neville as he spoke. I wasn’t alarmed that he knew what
had happened to me. I wasn’t positive what was so special about him, but I knew
that he was. He wasn’t like Luna, but I knew he had a special power. I didn’t
care what it was – all that I cared about was that he had a plan. We would have
to talk it over with Luna first, but it was finally starting to come together.
I would be free if things went the way that Neville was talking about.
I was starting to feel excitement as I thought about all the things I would be
able to do. However, I shoved it down as reality set in. The book – the book
had said blood. It was the only way I would be free – so why did Neville plan
to ask Voldemort?
I almost smacked myself for my stupidity – fourth year, the tournament, Cedric,
and the ritual. He had taken my blood. He had my blood. He was the only one who
would be able to remove the objects that kept me by Dumbledore’s side.
“Are you insane?” Pansy asked. “The Dark Lord will kill Potter. What makes you
think that he will help you?”
A smirk tweaked my lips, as I finally understood, before another thought
entered my mind. Suppressed anger entered my voice as I voiced those thoughts
that would hinder our plans.
“I can’t leave the castle, Nev. They won’t let me. My master won’t let me,” the
words poured from my mouth like Basilisk Venom – deadly and impossible to
escape.
“That is why you will have a new master, my little Black Sheep.” A dreamy voice
sounded in the silence that had descended after my last statement.
I glanced at the spot on the sofa next to me in shock and confusion. When had
she gotten here? I glanced at Neville to see him just as baffled as I was.
Sighing, I chuckled at the absurd thoughts. Of course, none of us heard or saw
her enter, she was Luna.
“Hello Luna, I’m glad you came,” I replied with sincerity. I knew that
something important was going on
“Hello, my Harry.” Luna smiled. “I see that you have taken the advice the Hat
gave when you were re-sorted.”
I simply nodded thinking back to what it had said earlier this year.‘Trust your
snakes and Professor Snape and things might turn out okay in the future – trust
what is unseen.’I was taking a gamble but I trusted Luna implicitly, and I
would trust the Hat as well, if she so desired.
“What do I need to do, Luna?” I asked. I needed to know. I’m sure I had to do
something; I always had to do something. What would I have to give up to gain
my freedom?
Silver eyes drooped in disappointment as if saying I should know her better
than that. “Nothing Harry, all you have to do is trust.”
Trust? I’d already said I trusted them. Trust was not something I frivolously
gave away. Trust made it easier for others to betray me. It made my heart break
and my spirit die a little bit more each time. Looking deep into her swirling
silver eyes, I sighed in slight frustration.
I nodded once and smiled slightly as her expression brightened, before she
started to hum a tune. I closed my eyes and just listened to the song, letting
it soothe me before interrupting her. I knew that I shouldn’t question her. I
knew that she would tell me eventually when the time was right. She always had
in the past, and this time was no different, but I really needed to know. I
couldn’t help but wonder what else of myself I would have to give to a complete
stranger.
“Who?” The word was barely above a whisper, but I knew she had heard me.
She paused and I cracked a lazy eye open to take in her all-knowing expression.
“Goldilocks and the Tin Man,” she replied before returning to her song.
Goldilocks? I glanced out of the corner of my eye and took in Draco’s light
blond hair that was slicked back, before chuckling. It fit him perfectly. I
remembered the story from when I was younger and in first grade. Both
Goldilocks and Draco were picky people that had to have everything ‘just
right’. Whether it was his food, his appearance, or his homework. Everything
had to be prefect; he would settle for nothing less.
That settled, my thoughts drifted to the Tin Man. Why would she pick that
phrase to describe someone? According to the book The Wizard of Oz, the Tin Man
had no heart. He had journeyed with Dorothy to request one from the wizard
known as Oz. So why would Luna, the nicest person I knew describe someone as
‘heartless’? Who was she talking about?
The sound of silence made me look over at my friend, just now noticing that she
had stopped humming and was staring that the entrance to the common room.
“He’s here – the Tin Man.”
I felt my eyes widen in surprise before a smirk spread across my face. I hadn’t
been wrong. He was the only that could save me, Professor Snape. The Tin Man –
the man without a heart.
***** The Sandman *****
                               Chapter Fourteen
                          I’m hiding from the Sandman
                         He's trickled inside my soul
                       There are nightmares in my sleep
                       And the hourglass is almost empty
                        Grains of my future are missing
                      The void of my past is catching up
                        Threatening to swallow me whole
                            My time is running out
Wrinkled, old hands clutched the cream parchment as the words were read. A low,
satisfied chuckle burst from chapped lips as the reader thought about all of
the plans that would be accomplished with this one act should they accept. And
accept they would. There was no way they were going to give up this opportunity
to help someone in need. Soon they would get revenge on the person they loathed
the most.
Quickly penning their reply, they sent it off before going through the Floo to
inform their dear friend that everything was working perfectly. It was only a
matter of time before he was free to join them. Then they would be able to
start destroying the puppet master, the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Baby blue eyes, their color and sparkle reminiscent of their brother’s,
twinkled. Picking up the Black King from the abandoned chess game, he stared at
the piece before throwing it against the lit fireplace in warped happiness. It
was time to dethrone the King of Games.
-
A smug smile spread across her face as Luna took into account the recent and
changing events. The puppet master would lose his most valuable puppet because
of a mistake—a mistake that would cost him the war. After all of the schemes
and paranoia, after all of the plans and power-hungry thoughts, he’d decided to
trust someone.
Rising from her seat, she took in the indifferent expression on the Tin Man’s
face trying to see if he would change. There was only one way this would work.
The Tin Man needed his heart. Would he willingly find it again or would he
refuse and let it be buried in the hollowness of his chest?
“Severus Snape, Tin Man without a heart, you made a vow to protect Lily Evans’
son did you not?” she asked, not expecting an answer. She knew that he had.
Just as she knew that this was the only moment he would be able to change.
Should he refuse, he would forever be an emotionless, bitter man. He would be
stuck in the darkness.
She saw the understanding in his hardened gaze, and nodded once.
“Indeed.” His response was a mere whisper.
“Will you do anything to uphold that promise? Would you willingly become the
next puppet master?” Could he do it? Was he strong enough to take the
responsibility of protecting Harry for those few hours? They only had one
chance.
-
I watched in anticipation, wondering what his answer would be. Would he give
the correct one? Would he be able to protect me as Luna wished him to? I knew
that something had changed. Her eyes held glee, and her smile was smug. She was
happy.
I couldn’t remember the last time I saw that look on her innocent face. The
pure look of satisfaction. Someone had done something that had made the tides
of the war turn in our favor. A blunder. A small mistake was all it took. My
lips twitched into a pleased grin as I thought about what might have happened.
Who was stupid enough to cause such a reaction from her?
The soft words of, “Who is the puppet?” reached my ears drawing me from my
happy thoughts.
My gaze locked on his flat, black eyes as I replied, “I am.” I wasn’t surprised
that his face stayed completely blank. He was a master spy. Even a small hint
of the wrong emotion would be enough cause to order his death. I had been right
all along. He’d been working for Voldemort all this time. Granger and Weasley
were wrong, as they always were. They had been too pure—no, not pure, naïve,
ignorant in the way of the world. They had foolishly believed in the good of
people, while completely forgetting the darkness that lived in everyone’s soul.
It was a consuming threat that would devour someone careless enough to let it
in. Many were foolish enough to give into the temptation, and were lost. Only a
few were able to hold onto their true selves, as they lived in the darkness,
treating it as a beloved home, or shelter—one that would protect them.
There wasn’t one person in the world that was completely innocent or pure. It
wasn’t possible. From the moment of birth, every child, every person was
tainted with the filth of this world—a world that was slowly killing every
single person, whether they were wizard, Squib, or Muggle. It was a world that
Voldemort and I were going to destroy. We were going to create a utopia.
A utopia of truth—not one of ignorance. We were going to create a world that
would lift up the blanket of false bliss and show the world the horrors that
lay within. We were going to take away their ignorance, their innocence, and
their childhood.
We were creating a world where each person had a choice. They would be able to
choose whether to sink or to swim. They would be able to choose to listen to
the truth, or to remain in their fake, perfect, little world. Only they would
be able to choose between life and death.
“My… contact has discovered a ritual that will be performed to give you
complete control over Harry.” Her soft voice was almost musical to my ears, as
were the words that she was saying. My freedom was almost here. After all the
years waiting, I would be free, and it was all because of her.
“What is the purpose of controlling Po-Harry?”
A snort from Neville distracted me as I realised Snape had called me by my
first name. It had sounded awkward as if he’d forced the word out of his mouth
at the last second. I hope he wasn’t going to call me Harry all the time. It’d
be creepy, like he was trying to be nice. Snape being nice was impossibly
scary. If he were even remotely tolerable, then he wouldn’t be Snape anymore.
Snape was a heartless bastard regardless of what side he was on. Nothing could
change that, least of all him saying my name.
“To get away from Dumbledore’s control,” I honestly replied. I knew he’d
already known the answer to the question. He’d already decided. I could see it
in the subtle change in his expression, though many present wouldn’t have been
able to see the difference. His eyes were less harsh, and the deep lines around
his mouth had eased a bit. So why was he drawing it out? Shivers ran up and
down my spine as the serious conversation made the tense atmosphere crackle
with suppressed magic.
A smirk appeared on his sallow face, making my eyes widen in slight surprise,
as he asked his next pointless question. “The Headmaster has been in control of
your every movement for how long would you say?”
My eyes narrowed at the slight emphasis on the two words as I stole a quick
glance at Luna before answering at her nod. Was this questioning really that
important to the plan? “Eleven years.”
“Then one can assume that you were ordered to befriend Ronald Weasley?” Snape
continued his questioning, ignoring the glares I sent his way. All he had to do
was accept, just say one word. However, as usual, he was being a bastard. If my
freedom hadn’t depended on him, I would have already hexed the git.
“Yes, one can,” I replied bitterness leaking into my words as I thought about
the person who had never been a true friend.
“So one can also assume that you were placed in Gryffindor under the same
order, since you are now a Slytherin.”
I glared at him for the stupid question before noticing that he wasn’t looking
at me. He was looking behind me at the table of Slytherins that I had briefly
forgotten were in the room. I didn’t reply. I trusted them. I knew I did. I
refused to give them more information than was needed. I trusted them with my
life. However, I didn’t trust them with my past, or with my heart.
I refused to let anyone close to my heart. I wasn’t going to get hurt again. I
refused to let myself get hurt again because of a foolish mistake. I didn’t
speak, but I knew that my silence was answer enough. They’d drawn their own
conclusions—the truth.
“You have not answered, Severus Snape. Will you become my puppet master?” I
spoke, my voice quiet as if afraid of the answer. I vaguely knew that my hands
were trembling slightly. I was nervous. I knew what his answer would be, yet I
was nervous that when he looked at me, he would no longer see Lily’s son. I was
afraid that he would only see Harry Potter, son of James Potter, his enemy.
It felt as if his eyes were leeching the warmth from my soul. I felt cold. I
felt like he could read every emotion, every thought, and he probably was. I
could only stand there and hope that he would find what he needed, and that I
would hear the answer that would set me free. After what felt like minutes his
lips moved and the words that were heard made my heart pound and my lips curl
up in a smile of pure joy and gratitude.
“I accept.”
“Tomorrow.” I swung my head in Luna’s direction as she spoke—my heart was still
pounding in my throat. It was almost too hard to believe, almost. “Everything
will happen tomorrow and everything will go as planned, because I will accept
nothing less.” Stern silver eyes glanced around the room, holding for a few
seconds longer on specific people. “Come Neville, it’s time for us to return to
our dormitory. Working in the greenhouses for extra credit must have tired you
out, and I know that looking for Nargles has given me a pounding headache—they
are very hard to find. A nap sounds like the prefect idea right now.” Walking
over to Neville, she grabbed his hand and tugged the boy from the common room,
leaving behind a room I knew was full of slightly dazed witches and wizards.
I was never going to completely understand her was I? Nodding once to Snape, I
chanced a quick glance behind me and ignored the confused expressions on the
other Slytherins’ faces before settling on Draco. Would he understand the
previous conversation? It wasn’t my fault. It was never my fault.
I stared into gray eyes for a moment before picking up the book I had thrown
earlier, and entered the empty room I share with the other five Slytherin boys,
locking the door. I knew that I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. I couldn’t afford
to. I had plans to make.
-
Draco had first listened in annoyance to the conversation between Potter and
Longbottom. Potter had been ignoring him for the past few days. Potter hadn’t
spoken with him, hadn’t glared or sneered at him, and hadn’t glanced in his
direction. It was annoying. It was unacceptable. Someone always came and stole
Potter away from him, before he got the chance to taunt or talk to him.
Then his annoyance soon changed to displeasure, replaced by anger as Potter and
Longbottom, then Loony Lovegood and finally Professor Snape ignored him and his
friends that were present in the room. How could they forget that they were in
the room?
As the conversation picked up, his anger once again changed, only this time to
shock, as he felt his Professor’s gaze on him. Eleven years? Potter had been
under Dumbledore’s control for eleven years? As the next question was answered,
Draco began to rapidly fit the puzzle pieces together, creating the larger
picture that had been taunting him in the back of his mind for weeks. It wasn’t
Potter’s fault. Harry had refused his hand in friendship because of Dumbledore.
He’d been ordered to refuse Draco’s hand in friendship.
Hearing the sound of a door closing Draco’s gaze narrowed as he took in the now
empty common room. Draco looked in the direction of their shared bedroom before
shaking his head. He wouldn’t disturb Harry—not tonight.
Draco wasn’t sure what he thought about this new Harry. He was different. He
wasn’t the Harry that he’d fought with. He wasn’t the Harry that he had
taunted, or made fun of. When he looked back over the encounters he couldn’t
deny that what he saw was Harry Potter, and not Harry. Draco smirked as he
finally came to a decision. He wasn’t going to change. Draco knew next to
nothing about this Harry, just as this Harry knew little about him.
There was no way he would simply ignore the past five years of school. It
wasn’t possible, and he refused to try. However, he wasn’t averse to giving
this Harry a chance, whatever that chance maybe. If Harry wanted to be his
friend, he would accept. If Harry didn’t want to be his friend, he would
accept. Draco refused to be controlled by something as simple as Harry Potter.
He, like Harry, would live only for the present. The past would simply be a
memory.
***** Your Mannequin *****
                                Chapter Fifteen
                             I was your mannequin
                            You did as you pleased
                          Not caring if I was hurting
                        My life meant nothing with you
                               I began to crack
                          As your final words sank in
                         The person I was disappeared
I was nervous. Even though I would deny it should anyone say such a thing. I
knew that today was the day where I would be freed from my prison, and yet, I
couldn’t help but think that something would go wrong. Something always went
wrong didn’t it? That was the story of my life. Since the night of my birth,
not one thing had gone right.
Pacing in front of the unlit fireplace, my thoughts swam as I waited for the
signal. I didn’t know what it would be or who would give it. I just knew
instinctively that I would understand what it was when it was given. At least
that was my hope.
Hope—it was the one feeling that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in many years,
an emotion that had given me so many years of grief and suffering. Yet, I
couldn’t give up that feeling. That feeling as painful as it may be was the
only thing that was currently holding me together. It was the only thing that
was keeping my sane.
There was nothing more I wanted then to be set free, and finally venture from
the grasp of my master. I had waited many years, years where I would perform
tasks against my will, where I was nothing more than a mannequin.
It would stop—today.
Hearing the common room door slide open, I glanced up before freezing in shock.
It couldn’t be. My heart raced quicker than before as I took in the form
standing at the top of the stone steps. Long white beard, twinkling blue eyes,
crazy dress robes that were bright and scarily cheerful.
It was over before it had even begun.
I tried not to show my panic as he came down the steps to stand before me. Did
he know? Had he found out about the plan? Had I been foolish to trust in those
people that I held so dear to me?
No answers came, because I had none. The thoughts in my mind were pure,
unadulterated panic and fear. There was no way that Dumbledore was going to let
me go free after this episode. There was no way that I would ever be able to
think for myself, choose for myself, act as myself.
If he was here for the reason that I thought he was then my life was over.
There would be no point in living. I would be a shell. I would have no
thoughts, no emotions. I would literally be dead inside.
I brought up the best Occlumency shields I could muster and stared into those
blue eyes that I hated so much. I stared, praying to Merlin that he would not
dig into my mind. I knew that I would not be able to keep him out. I knew that
Dumbledore was more powerful in the Mind Arts than Snape. If I couldn’t keep
Snape from entering my mind then there was no way that I would be able to keep
Dumbledore from doing so.
I was finished.
There was no way Dumbledore would pass up this opportunity to delve into my
mind. He loved going where he wasn’t wanted. I knew that he loved finding
secrets that were better left alone, and exploiting them to his advantage.
“Mr. Malfoy, Would you be so kind as to fetch Professor Snape? I would like a
word with him as well as Mr. Potter,” his soft voice didn’t need to be any
louder as the words repeated in my mind, and ears.
Staring at the old man, I refused to betray any of my thoughts as he continued
to inspect me with his gaze. I would not give into my weakness. I would not
allow him to know the despair that had started to engulf me. I would not let
him rejoice.
I didn’t bother to look in Draco’s direction as he left. It wouldn’t have done
me any good, and I knew, hoped, that there would be sympathy in those gray
eyes. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did know that Draco wasn’t as heartless
as he portrayed himself to be. It wasn’t so much that I wanted someone to feel
sorry for me so much as I wanted someone to have some emotion, any emotion for
me. For too long had I only felt hate and contempt.
I didn’t want to feel that anymore. I was tired of feeling nothing. I didn’t
want to be invisible. I wanted to find someone who would look at me and see me.
Yet, now I wouldn’t get the chance to do so.
Such hopes and dreams were as I thought—pointless.
I don’t know how long it took for the both of them to return. I wasn’t paying
much attention to the events that were unfolding around me. I was too detached
from the situation to care anymore. There was nothing more to be done right?
“Aberforth? What are you doing here?”
Aberforth? Where had I heard that name before?
“It would seem that my dear brother was in need of help for today. He was
required to attend a very important meeting, and he asked his only brother to
help him out. And of course, being the ever-dutiful brother that I am, I
agreed. Isn’t it convenient that we had reconciled many years ago after the
death of Ariana?”
My head snapped up at the words. Not Dumbledore. He wasn’t Dumbledore.
“Indeed,” the silky voice grew louder as relief slipped into the tone, and came
closer.
I shook my head, trying to get my brain to reboot. It didn’t want to take in
the new information fast enough to please me. I needed to get back to reality
and fast. This was important.
“You’re going to help me?” I almost cringed at the pain-filled hope in my
voice. I couldn’t help it, after eleven years, the brother of my enemy came
here offering me his help. It was almost too much to bear.
Pushing the constricting thoughts to the side, I focused on the conversation
that would finally decide my fate. It would all be up to Aberforth and if he
was willing to risk that much for my freedom.
Looking in his baby blue eyes that were so much like his brother’s, and yet
different, I found my answer. He would. I couldn’t understand why he would risk
everything, but I knew he would. And for that I was grateful.
“Yes, Harry. It’s time for that brother of mine to realize that people are more
than weapons or pawns that he can control. The people of the wizarding world
have done nothing, only standing in awe, of his power and façade. When you’re
free I know you’ll do everything in your power to start tearing that façade to
pieces, until there is nothing left.” A savage grin twisted his grandfatherly
appearance into something villainous as he spoke of his brother.
“A very nice young woman with long, blonde hair met me in the entrance hall
when I arrived to inform me of the situation. She has told me that you cannot
leave the castle as you are tied to Albus, therefore we must assign you to
another master who was chosen yesterday—were they not? Severus, are you willing
to become this young man’s master for a brief period of time until we are able
to find a secure way to take him to the Dark Lord?”
I looked back and forth between the two adults confused as they exchanged
thoughts and plans with mere glances. How was he going to perform the ritual or
whatever was needed if I was bound to Dumbledore? Wasn’t only my master allowed
to perform it? I thought not realizing I spoke the last question out loud.
“Blood, my dear Harry, it all comes down to blood. I am connected to your
master through blood; therefore, I am able to change your master. Just as the
Dark Lord will be able to set you free because he holds your blood. It is all
connected. The only way he was able to gain control of you was because your
ignorant Muggle aunt was the one who placed the constraints on you, and because
you drank Albus’ blood. What my dear brother forgot was that when you drank his
blood, the power that came with it also passed to me.
“When the Dark Lord removes the restraints you will need to drink his blood as
well, or Albus will continue to hold power over you. Should you drink the Dark
Lord’s blood a two-way blood bond will form, and in doing so it will replace
the old blood that Albus gave you.
“The blood of witches and wizards is much different than that of Muggles. The
magical properties, make it much more powerful and potent. That being said,
when you drank the blood of my brother, it was more powerful than yours, making
my brother’s blood the main power source if you will. Meaning that it
controlled your power and could suppress it should the owner think it should be
done. Therefore, if you were to drink the blood of the Dark Lord, his blood
being more powerful than Albus’ due to his dark magic will replace the old
blood. However, because your blood was one of the key ingredients for the
ritual two years ago, it will essentially balance the properties, and you will
no longer be controlled by either force.”
“But how will Snape become my next master? He isn’t as powerful as the
Headmaster.” This was confusing.
A smile lit the wrinkled face as he clapped his hands. “Ah, I see your concerns
young man, but there is no need. When my dear brother left this morning, he
inadvertently relinquished the control of you to me. Severus Snape is more
powerful than I am, so it will be no trouble for him to take the control from
me.”
“Wouldn’t he notice that he doesn’t have control of me anymore? You’d think it
would be obvious,” I replied sarcastically. How could the old fool not notice
that he didn’t have control of his favorite puppet? Wasn’t there like a bond or
thread or spell that would alert him to such? It didn’t make sense.
“He would have. However, he made one vital mistake. He is a Dumbledore.
Therefore, you are tied to the family blood, our name and magic, not just his.
He would normally have complete control over you, but he is not the last of his
family. The main reason for the strength in his control over you is because he
has had more contact with you over the years. Should any of the other members
of our family have had just as much contact with you, they would have had joint
control.”
Well that explained why he was so happy. I could begin to like this Dumbledore.
I smiled slightly as I thought through all of the information I had been told.
It would work. All I had to do was… drink Snape’s blood. I grimaced. Great.
Pushing down my disgust, I sighed. I wasn’t going to give up the only way for
my freedom because I had to drink blood, twice if I had to be specific, once
from Snape and again from Tom.
Nodding, I looked over at the man that would soon be my master. For years, we’d
clashed, taunting each other, yelling at each other, degrading one another and
in all of those years I never once thought that I would be where I am today: in
front of him, putting my life in his hands.
I always thought that he was heartless, a bastard who would like nothing more
than to see me die. Oh, how wrong I was.
Luna called him the Tin Man – the man without a heart. Yet, as I looked into
his beady eyes, I saw something that I never thought I would. I saw faint
respect and pride. He might not have a heart, but he was getting there.
Reaching forward with my slightly shaking hand, I grasped the transfigured
glass full of red blood. All I had to do was drink this and I would be free.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I hesitated as another thought entered my mind.
How were they going to get me to Voldemort?
Voicing the question aloud, I waited patiently for the answer, not having to
wait long as Snape spoke up.
“I will take you of course,” his voice was stiff and slightly demeaning as if I
should have already known that.
“Won’t that give away your position as a spy though? I didn’t think we could
afford for you to give yourself away so early,” I replied surprised that he
hadn’t thought of that, or had he?
“It is the only way. I cannot do it for I am masquerading as my brother. None
of the Slytherins can for—”
“Isn’t it the perfect weather for Hogsmeade weekend, Harry?”
Smiling wryly at the voice, I turned to the entrance of the common room in
slight surprise as I took in the form of Luna swaying back and forth while
standing in place. She always showed up at the perfect moment.
Nodding my head in greeting, I thought briefly about what she said, remembering
why the other Slytherins were so excited about today. The Headmaster had
proclaimed at dinner that it would be another Hogsmeade weekend.
“Perfect. Luna, Draco, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this lovely
morn?” I politely inquired.
“Of course, Harry. I would be honored.” Luna’s voice flittered with happiness
as her silver eyes lit up.
Nodding, Draco also agreed after I allowed a few more of his friends to join us
as well. I didn’t mind. I was finally going to get to know them after all. It
would be worth the pain I had gone through—I hoped.
“Drink your potion, Harry.” Glancing at her in surprised disgust, I couldn’t
hold back the snort. She knew me too well. “I promise that it isn’t going to
turn you into a Vampire; it will only break down the fences.”
“I have also asked myself that question, and I only have one… regret. I hadn’t
done my best for Tom Riddle.”
“I know that you do not care for young Harry, however, he is… needed.”
“You are the savior, Harry, you do not need to save yourself – you have me for
that.”
Once again, he was wrong. I needed a savior, and he wasn’t it.
Shaking the words that Dumbledore had said from my mind, I looked into her
swirling, silver orbs, and smiled at her self-assuredness. Everything would be
fine. Luna would see to it. Raising the glass once again, I opened my dry lips
and tilted the glass back, drinking the coppery liquid.
-
Walking down the crowded streets of Hogsmeade, I took a deep breath to calm my
nerves. Five minutes, I only had five minutes left before I would be able to go
to Voldemort and ask for my freedom. Aberforth already assured me that
Voldemort would know what to do. Aberforth said that he would inform him after
we left for the village.
“You all remember the plan correct?” I knew that I shouldn’t have questioned
them. They were all intelligent people, and they had heard, and recited the
plan twice to make sure that there weren’t any mistakes, but I needed to hear
that confident replay.
“We, unlike some people I know, aren’t stupid, Potter!” Pansy spoke, sounding
annoyed.
Nodding at her answer, I took another breath. I really needed to calm down.
“I’m going to go get a Butterbeer,” I said before walking off. I wasn’t in the
mood for standing around and trying to decide where to go.
I could still taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth, and I wanted to get
rid of it. Walking into the Three Broomsticks I headed over for a table, before
realizing that Luna and Draco had come as well.
Luna I could understand, but Draco? I was surprised—especially after he’d
argued about letting his other friends accompany us on the visit. Sipping on
the Butterbeer that had just been placed in front of me, I gargled a little bit
of it before swallowing, trying to rid me of that disgusting taste.
Hearing a sound of disdain from across the table I looked over, and almost
smiled at the expression in Draco’s eyes. “That was vulgar. Have you no table
manners to speak of, Potter?”
A grin stretched my features. I couldn’t help it. What used to piss me off so
much, now only made me smile in amusement. It was a wonderful feeling. “I’d
like to see you try and drink one of Professor Snape’s… potions and see how you
fare,” I replied laughing as his mask cracked enough to show his utter disgust
at such an idea. Opening my mouth to continue taunting him, I paused when an
explosion sounded from outside.
“What was that?” I asked getting up and heading for the door.
“Potter! Where the hell do you think you’re going? Don’t go rushing out like a
stupid Gryffindor! There could be Death Eaters.” I ignored Draco’s voice as
gasps tore through the room.
Horrified whispers of ‘It’s another Death Eater attack’ were promptly dismissed
as I gestured to the occupants of the establishment.
“I can’t just let them attack and kill people,” I proclaimed, getting more into
the character. “They never did anything to deserve this!”
“Most of them are adults. They can handle themselves,” came the retort.
Sighing and shaking my head I sadly replied, “They shouldn’t have to.” Before
walking out the door and into the street trying to find the threat.
Witches and wizards where panicking as they ran through the streets, trying to
get away from the people that were attacking, trying to stay clear of the
buildings that were being torched, or otherwise destroyed in the process.
“Harry?” A female voice from behind distracted me from my scan of the
surroundings and made me turn.
“Granger?” I smiled slightly at her wince as she heard her surname.
“Harry, you can’t fight them. It’s too dangerous. I know.. I know that I’m not
your friend anymore—”
“If you ever were,” I interjected.
“—but I can’t stand by and watch you get killed.”
“It’s not your choice, Granger. It is mine, and only mine. I’m tired of people
making decisions that they believe to be good for me. They never are,” I
couldn’t hold back the venom that was leaking into the words as I spoke them.
“Return to the castle.”
“But—”
“I don’t have time for this right now. I suppose that you cared for me in your
own twisted way, but I am not in the mood to deal with your selfishness rig—”
Grabbing at the space around my neck I tugged, trying to remove whatever it was
that was holding me in place. Stumbling backwards, I briefly caught a glimpse
of her startled horror-filled gaze before vanishing.
-
Falling into a heap on the floor, I glared at the sound of amusement that was
coming to the right of me. Climbing to my feet, I winced as I untangled myself
from my spectacular entrance.
“Oh shut it, Tom. Do you have any idea how hard it is to Apparate while
pretending to be captured? I’m surprised that I didn’t Splinch myself.”
“No.”
“I thought not.” I gave a self-deprecating smile as I stared at my oldest
friend. It had been too long since I had seen him as a friend or ally, too long
since I had felt safe in his presence.
“Enough of the dramatics, little one. Where are your companions?” His slight
lisp made the question sound almost Parseltongue.
“Companions?” I asked confused. I wasn’t aware that anyone else was supposed to
come with me.
“Aberforth said that Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood, a Seer, would be
accompanying you.”
Surprised that Aberforth would say such a thing I pondered the words. Perhaps
that is what Luna had been waiting for all along—to be able to side with
Voldemort? It would make sense. I had promised her that I would create a world
where Seers would no longer need their power, or would be safe from people who
would use their power. I promised that we would create a free world. So why
wouldn’t she side with me?
After waiting for thirty minutes for Draco and Luna to arrive, I finally heard
the familiar sound of footsteps in the hall. Smiling at them, I waited until
they were halfway across the room before speaking.
“What took you two so long?”
Snorting, Draco spoke first, “Fabulous acting. Everyone thinks that you were
kidnapped because of what you did in front of Granger. She has been proclaiming
that an invisible person captured you, as you were talking to her, and they
Apparated away. Very amusing. The reason we’re late is because we were required
to give our reports to a few Aurors. We were some of the last few people with
you after all. They wanted to make sure that there was no foul play. Aurors…
utterly useless people.”
“Lord Voldemort, I must give you my thanks for taking care of Harry for as long
as you have.” Luna’s soft voice brought my attention to her as Draco had
finished speaking of the past few events that had kept them from coming
earlier. “You have saved me a great deal of trouble. As such, I vow to serve
you as your Seer until I see either fit to leave your services, or until the
war against Albus Dumbledore is over. What say you?”
I watched in silence as Tom’s crimson eyes stared into her silver ones,
weighing her worth. I knew what his answer would be. He wasn’t stupid. There
was no way that he would give up such a deal. A Seer would be very valuable
with the war.
Nodding his head, Tom agreed to the terms before once again turning his
attention back to me. “It would be better to get the ritual over with quickly.”
My face screwed up in an expression of disgust at the thought of drinking blood
again, but the anticipation of freedom far outweighed the other emotion.
Watching with slight fascination as Voldemort brought out the ceremonial dagger
that Wormtail had used on me in fourth year for the ritual, I waited patiently
for him to fill the Summoned glass with the red liquid before handing it to me.
‘I promise I will free you, Harry. I will free you from your world of darkness
and show you a world of color and light. I will give you a purpose, to live.’
“Thank you,” the whispered words emerged from my mouth with more emotion than I
thought possible. I knew he understood. I wasn’t only thanking him for keeping
his promise. I was thanking him for always being there for me, protecting me
when he could, encouraging me to be better, to not turn out like him. In his
own twisted sort of way, he had been teaching me to be pure and dark at the
same time.
While under Dumbledore’s control, Voldemort had been teaching me how to live.
Even while he tired to kill me, he never did. Even while trying to make me
shatter, thinking I had betrayed him, he held me together. And for that reason,
I would stand beside him and fight.
I would fight to protect the one thing I wanted most in this world, but never
had—freedom.
Tilting the glass, I quickly drank the blood, ignoring the taste until the fire
that had been steadily getting hotter and hotter in my veins ignited and became
an inferno. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I forced the rest of the blood
down, not letting a single drop escape. Feeling my legs buckle beneath me, I
fell to the floor, waiting for the pain to end, waiting for the new blood to
eradicate the old.
It felt like hours before the pain finally receded, giving me enough pause to
gather my strength and stand before Voldemort. I walked to Voldemort and paused
at the base of his throne waiting for him to complete the next and last step.
Feeling the weight of the collar and bracelets being removed, I marveled at the
difference. I felt lighter, so much lighter than I had before. It had been so
long, too long since I last felt this. I smiled at my wrists, rubbing them
lightly and enjoying the unbarred skin.
Feeling the familiar presence in my mind, I sighed in relief. We had our
connection again. I had been afraid that with how long it had been suppressed
that it would no longer be as strong. I was wrong. It was weak from disuse, but
there was no doubt that it would once again be strong and growing the more we
were in each other’s presence.
Everything would be okay.
I glanced over at Draco to see he was smirking at Voldemort and I. I could feel
the smugness that radiated from every pore. He had competed his mission with
ease and now it was time to give him his reward. It’d been over five long
years, but I could finally do what I’d longed to do the first time I’d met him.
Knowing Voldemort wouldn’t be offended, I walked over to the blond and
stretched out my hand just as he had all those years ago. “Harry Potter.”
Gray eyes widened as he looked down at my hand and then back at my face. The
same gray eyes searched mine for something, something that he had to have found
for his hand was suddenly in mine, his words a simple answer, “Draco Malfoy.”
A simple answer, that was all it took. He wasn’t asking me to open my world. He
wasn’t asking me to bare my soul. No, he was doing something much, much
simpler, something more heartbreaking. For though he couldn’t see it, those two
words did all that. It opened my world to him. It bared my soul. I was standing
on a small, narrow cliff overlooking an even deeper chasm of darkness, and I
was praying to Merlin that the wind at my back would not push me off, praying
that even for a little while longer I could firmly plant my feet and not give
in to my weakness.
It was then that two hands grabbed mine. It was then that I stopped feeling the
cold wind at my back. It was then that I felt the warmth of human life. It was
then that I knew that I would not fall. It didn’t matter for how long. For it
was then I uttered my name and bound my fate to his.
                                    The End
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