Hey. :) I'm not that sure about me English cause it's my second language, so fell free to point all my mistakes. For the record, cause somone could be confused, I also publish fanfics in Polish and this one also has its slightly differen version on this site.


WARNINGS: Harry here is kinda radk, but not that much, and there are some bloody pictures, but nothing too bad.


parlestounge


Harry looked around in the overwhelming whiteness, still shaky after letting the Avada curse hit him. Something must have gone wrong? He was alive now, wasn't he? And this place, this white wasteland didn't exactly look like any paradise he ever thought about…

He froze and quickly turn and looked around again. Something here was… something draw him. Some strange force, which he could not name, not even exactly fell or grasp its nature, just… just like… it was like basilisk on his second year. Luring him, calling… needing him…

Danmn, it would a whole lot esier if there was anything in this place that he could walk towards or just orient himself! He looked around once more, observing in pure shock as never-ending whiteness starts to shape into King's Cross station in every place he looked, as if it was in this form from the very beginning. But now he easily saw a movement under one of the benches and slowly walked towards it. The moment he knelt down beside it, he regretted it.

- You cannot help it. – Resounded some calm, sad voice, and at first Harry agreed with it completely.

Infant ebeneth the bench was hideous and deformed, with crooked legs and arms that bent not so physically accurate and were way to large. Tiny body looked more like some random set of bones that was glued together and squeezed into skin of wrong size, dangerously stretched or horridly wrinkled in numerous places. Grotesque creature was covered with blood that was slowly sipping over its body or had already hardened to black shell.

- You cannot help it anymore, no one can. – The voice called from closer distance and Harry automatically raised his head.

The mere sight of Dumbledore had surprised him, but he quickly turn him eyes back to the hideous infant, just as it started to cry.

- There, there… hush. - Harry reacted on pure instinct, taking baby it in his arms and lulling it skillfully, with ease. He still remembered all Dudley's birthday-parties, when his cousin was playing and he was to sit with the little children, who was probably invited just to make him babysit them and not have the chance to have fun. He was careful to never show it, but truthfully, he liked that moments…

- As I already told you, you cannot help it, you will only bring harm and mayhem upon yourself. – Repeated Dumbledore.

Only now Harry noticed that he felt cold, and was nude and getting bloody from lulling the infant. He ignored it completely though.

- It's him, right? – He asked with quiet voice, sitting on the ground and gently rocking the baby. That repulsive, deformed infant was the horcrux. It was Voldemort. His own magic made him sure of it, clinging to this mite, trying to cover it with its very existence, trying to protect it. Just as his own body protected that crippled piece of soul his whole life…

No matter how strongly Harry wanted to see in the infant murderer of his parents, the snake-like monster that destroyed his life and haunted his loved ones, in this little creature he saw only child, hurt enough to be so scarred on his very soul it made him want to vomit.

He only saw a little boy of few years that grow up in the time of the great war, who never met anybody who could love him. Little boy that nobody helped. Innocent child, whom no one wanted or tried to safe, but preferred to just get rid of. From family, from orphanage, from school, from wizarding world…

- Don't you even try. – He said finally to Dumbledore, who tried to talk to him a few times already. – I will not let him be harmed anymore. – He whispered hoarsely, but absolutely confident, and hugged little baby to his chest, caressing its deformed head. It calmed visibly, stopping its weeping and whizzing loudly, still covered in blood. Some of it was smudged away, showing dark bruises on thin, paper-like skin, that was almost translucent and show all the veins.

- Harry, my dear boy… - Dumbledore started again. – My dear, good, brave boy. I myself tried to help it, but it is impossible anymore. – He talked calmly, smoothly. – Leave it and come here, I would want to talk…

Harry didn't listen to him, at all, only now noticing that Dumbledore was clothed. He wondered briefly how it was possible, then quickly remembering the wasteland shaping into the station and after that he only wonderd if he would be able to get some cloth as well and suddenly it was done and he was felling soft cotton on his body. He smiled a little at the sight of mundane shirt and trousers, trying that trick again and grinning when the little bathtub appeared, full of nicely warm water, along with soft towels and warm blanket.

- Harry… - Dumbledore shook his head, sitting on the bench and observing him cautiously.

Harry ignored him once more, slowly, delicately washing the blood off the infant. But it wouldn't get off completely: just as he washed it away, it would ooze on the baby's skin like it was seeping from invisible wound, even if the paper-like skin was, thankfully, clear of them. He took off dried blood, and he somehow feel that there was less blood seeping than before, but to keep baby clean he could only wash the blood again and again to no avail.

- It is not only your blood that he had drowned his soul in, so you alone are not enough to wash it from it. – Dumbledore sighed. – Please, my boy, leave it…

- Was I also just 'it'? – Harry looked at the headmaster with bitterness clear in his eyes. – Just child from prophecy, just hurcrux, just the right tool to win the war? No. – He raised his free hand, stopping any possible answer. – I do not wish to hear any more excuses and explaining. I've had enough… - He said quietly, his voice breaking.

He once more raised the baby to his arms, stubbornly wiping the blood from its face. The eyes of the infant, those bulged, bloody eyes was set on him, looking at him curiously. Harry sighed deeply.

- I'd love to wash it off, mite, but I really can't… - He whispered, caressing baby's cheek, and suddenly froze. The blood stained his fingers – and stayed on them. The oozing stopped on the little piece of skin he touched and didn't continue on his own – it looked more as if blood sinked into his skin like ink into paper and change the color of it.

- Harry…!

He ignored Dumbledore, quickly thinking over his prevoius words. He could not wash the blood off… but, apparently, he could take it upon himself to bear its stain. It was some kind solution. He didn't' hesitate, whipping the blood from baby's face, hastily smothering it on his sides under the shirt. He froze in the middle of cleaning infant's forehead as tiny, bony fingers catched his finger. Baby looked at him with great concentration, frowning, as if this brief touch was unbelievable challenge to accomplish. For a moment Harry just blankly stared at the infant in shock, finally giggling under his nose and stroking its little hand.

- Yes, mite… I'm here for you. – He whispered. – I'm here and I won't let anyone harm you, not anymore. – He added earnestly, going back to cleaning baby from blood.

He ended with his hand red from fingertips to forearms and blood stains in various places on his sides, stomach and back. He didn't care tough, stopping only after baby itself was completely clean.

– There, it's all nice and better, ain't it? – He wrapped baby in blanket and hugged gently again, rocking it in his arms.

He glanced an Dumbledore, who was observing his every move with deep regret. He didn't let it bother him and got rid of unnecessary things, then sitting beside headmaster.

- You wanted to talk. – He reminded him quietly, not once taking his eyes of the infant.

- Oh, my poor, good boy… - Dumbledore sighed sadly. – I assume you figured it out then? – He asked after some time, as quiet as Harry.

He was still lulling baby taht was slowly dozing off, but nodded shortly.

- Yes, not long after I stopped to think when and how the horcrux was made. Killing Myrtle, killing Hefsiba, killing Berta Jorkins. Killing his father… and my mother of course. Everything clicked like a pieces into jigsaw puzzle. – He sighed again. – You know that I hated her for it? – He asked with sad smile, stroking skin on baby's stretched cheek with his fingertips. – She was the one who put me into this mess, she brought this whole pain and suffering upon me, as if she couldn't… I don' know, just run, escape. Use portkey or dissapparate to some foreign continent! It's not like Voldemort controlled whole world. – He snorted, pouting childishly. – But no, oh no, she didn't run. She didn't want to save her and me, she'd rather stupidly get us both killed.

- Your mother loved you deeply, Harry… - Dumbledore, before only listening and observing him, now interrupted him sturdily.

- She loved me, I don't deny it, but what did I get from it? What her sweet, stupid love gave me? – Whispered Harry. – Voldemort didn't know what barriers he was activating when she killed her, the Mother Protecting Her Child, but she didn't know it as well. She gave her life, stupidly, without any knowledge that it would do anything more than gave me few second of life… - He shook his head, really not in the state to think about it.

He knew about it for months and he managed to accept it. He made his mind about what happened and how he felt about it. Maybe, if he really knew her, it would be different… but he didn't knew her. Only her memories or ghosts. It wasn't enough.

- But you know what? – Harry glanced ad Dumbledore, smiling softly. - Now, it doesn't matter to me. At all. – He said. – You know why? – He smiled more widely and hugged the sleeping baby closer. – Because the prophecy was fulfilled. I'm free, I'm sure of it.

- Yes, my boy… indeed. – Dumbledore still was looking at him cautiously, whit great sadness. – You fulfilled the prophecy, using deathly hallows way better than I could ever manage to.

Harry giggled a little, shaking his head.

- Oh, yeah, the hallows… - He giggle again. – I lost my cloak in the Godric's Hollow, it burned in magic fire. I crushed the stone with some rocks and spells, then throw what was left of it into the water of Hogwart lake. I hope the giant squid ate it… I did it after I talked with my parents and Sirius… I don't know if they agreed with me, but they understood. – He smiled a little, almost tenderly, at the memory of his parents and godfather, only people he held so dear no matter how he felt about thing they done, these three people forgiving him for what he decided to do. – Wand is still in Voldemort's hands, but I'd love to snap it in half and maybe more pieces, then burn and separate it to bury deep in many places. Just to be shure. – He glanced at Dumbledore and giggle at the longing and horridness still clear in his eyes.

He still desired these damned hallows, even here, now… that is the exact reason for him destroying it. Literally only reason – the desire it was awaking in people's hearts.

- Maybe I repair my old want firs… it broke in the Godric's Hollow. – He explained freely. – No, I was not talking about me getting hit with Avada… – He smiled a little. – The prophecy fulfilled years ago, in the Godric's Hollow, when Voldemort tried to kill me. – He said, sitting more comfortably and fixed blanket around slipping baby, stroking his cheek softly again. – You know what the prophecy demand? At the end of July, child will be born from people who resisted Dark Lord three times. He will be marked as one equal to him, but also be given the power the Dark Lord does not now. Only one of them could take life from the other, as only neither of them could live if the other survive… - he giggled again under his nose, hollowly. – You know way people don't believe in prophecies, but still fear them nonetheless? Because they can mean anything and it's so easy to shape them into what we want them to mean. Like with meeting handsome blonde and finding true love on some day – handsome blond can be total ass, and true love can be average redhead who we buy coffee from. But we want to see the blond as true love. – He explained. – If we want, we can shape the prophecies into what we wish they could mean, not what they do mean. – He looked Dumbledore in the eyes, with all grudge, soreness and hatred he felt for him for the all these years, for making him the Chosen One. – I fulfilled the prophecy by merely existing. Just when I was one and make thee Dark Lord vanish. It was all, after that I was only the kid who was special but there wasn't anything more for me to do. I could help fight with Voldemort, but… I wasn't some chosen warrior, some living-shield for wizarding world to take cover behind. – Harry snorted scornfully.

- Harry… - Dumbledore started softly, but Harry shook his head.

- No! – He shouted, hugging baby tightly. – I was born, from my oh-so-great parents, who resisted Voldemort three times. Voldemort marked me with their death and this scar and thus made me equal to him, a orphan brought up in the muggle world, lonely, hateful towards his mother and father, granted with parlestongue and all the other things I'm sure you are fully aware of! – He glanced at Dumbledore angrily, then quickly looking back at the infant when it started wriggling in his arms. – Hush, hush mite… it's ok. – He whispered, lulling it gently, forcing himself to calm down. – Only I can kill him, because I have part of his soul inside me. – He continue emotionlessly. – Only I can kill him and only he can kill me. Because this piece of soul won't let him die and at the same time the same piece of soul, merged with my own, will protect me. – He sighed. – Like making me able to learn Patronus curse… and so on. - He rolled his eyes. – And there goes the catch with molding prophecies for our wishes. Him, as part of soul, and me, as horcrux, we both can only exist, not live. That is all. – He sighed tiredly. – It's stupid pun about what 'live' literally mean. – He mumbled. – Me, as horcrux, can't live, and Voldemort, as one soul in many places, cannot either. It would need his death to free me or my death to make him able to die. Because I would live only as I, not a horcrux, and Voldemort would live only as part of soul in one place, not parts in many places. – He smiled crookedly.

Dumbledore, who listened him without a word, sighed deeply.

- It is one of the possible interpretation, one that goes to the oldest and almost forgotten way of translating phropecies into real events. The way of taking its matter absolutely literally, in belief that something as highly magic-driven as future predictions can be only the absolutely logical thing, to not cause confusion in the ones in it warning and guiding. - He sighed and went silent for a moment. - Your version is indeed one of the possible ones and, sadly, the one of which fulfillment I feared the most… my dear, poor boy. – He looked at Harry with remorse in his blue, teary eyes. – Still, even with the knowledge that you could be only mere boy with horrible past on his shoulders, I was too big of a coward to recognize that possibility. Who was I to take the hope away of Magic Britain, when I couldn't even take it from myself?

Harry sighed too.

- As I said, I don't care, not anymore. – He said quietly, rocking the baby disturbed by his anger and shouts. – When I found out I was furious, of course, even planned to just ran off to Japan or Africa or Himalayas, just to spite them, all who forced me into the role of the Chosen One… but after some time, I understood. It wasn't easy, and take some time and little tantrum, but… I don't blame you. – He smiled warmly at Dumbledore.

- Oh, my dear boy… you should not understand it. Not at your age, not ever.

- What can I do. – Harry shrugged, and stood up suddenly. – I think I have to go back… - He rocked te baby, but it was still squirming in his arms, whimpering miserably.

- It seems so. – Dumbledore smiled at him gently with great tiredness.

- It was nice, talking to you. I'm glad I could do it. – Admitted Harry. He looked around, seeing as the King's Cross station fades into nothingness again. – I hope i can fix some things, but even if I can't… I will know that I tried.

- I hope so too, my dear boy. – Dumbledore smiles at him last time.

After that Harry hugged the baby and closed his eyes, and then let the whiteness swallow him completly.


He flinched, blinking and slowly looking around. He was lying by some partially destroyed wall, probably thrown there by some force, maybe of some spell? Yes, that was the most possible, with people running and fighting and shouting spells all around. Air was full of dust and heavy with the coppery smell of blood, the great Hogwarts walls were crumbling with almost earsplitting, jarring noise.

Harry sighed, smiling slightly at the sight of the objects lying on his lap. He put on the necklace, giggling childishly when he slipped the diadem into his hair, and slid the ring, now empty of the stone, on his finger. He saw then that his hands was clear of the blood, once again pale just like a day ago. So the stains was only case of his mind – or at least that was what he decided to think. He took the diary and the kelch in hand and stood up – or rather tried to.

The large snake which he know already from Godric's Hollow was lying beside him and when he tried to get up, it quickly wrapped itself around his waist, easily keeping him down.

- Stay… why you smell Master?

- It's okay, Nagini. – Harry petted snake on the head, smiling. - I'm just like you and this little assemble. – He shook diary and kelch, but the snake only held him tighter to the ground, watching him and hissing quietly. – Tom needs us. – Added Harry. – We have to help him. Will you let me get up? – He asked, and sighed with relief when Nagini slid off him.

- You speak?

- Yeah, because I'm just like you.- Harry repeated, standing and flicking his robe. At the sight of all of the fights around though, he quickly changed his mind. – Can you take us to him? I can apporate just fine now, but I can't feel Tom yet. Will you help me with it? – He asked, glancing nervously at the closest wizards. Please, let them not look at him, please, let them not see him – nobody liked dead coming back to life, especially dead Chosen Ones…

He sighed with relief again when Nagini wrapped herself around him and nudged his cheek lightly with her head, then lying it on his shoulder.

- I show, youngling. – She hissed. Harry winced a little at such nickname, but closed his eyes and concentrated on snakes magic nonetheless. With her help he managed to find and feel Tom's magic, then grabbing snake to secure her close to him when he disapporated in one swift twist with Nagini alongside him.

He landed in the center of some fight, immediately feeling some spell fly just beside his cheek, bits of magic tickling his skin… before it was suddenly throw back by tick shield, strong enough for him to see magic twisting in the air with each deflected curse.

- You!

…on the other hand, maybe he saw it only because it was Voldemort's shield. Who was standing just inch or two beside him. Harry turned around quickly, putting up hands in which he still held Tom's diary and Helga's kelch. He didn't try to talk, now yet, for the moment only observing Voldemort's gaze slowly sliding from one safe and whole hurcrux to another, ending on absolutely alive Nagini.

- They crushed you… - He hissed, raising his hand, at what Nagini crawled to him immediately to get petted on the head.

- You won't kill you horcrux now, will you? – Harry decided it was nice moment to speak – or hiss up. They were standing in the middle of battlefield, spells and curses were flying everywhere bouncing off the shields or changing directions purely because of amount of magic in the air, the rumbles, crashes and jarring of the failing walls was mixing with shouted spells and cries and yells and… he would just love to think and talk about anything else than that in any other place.

Voldemort measured him with his cold, ruby eyes, then his gaze came across his scar – and he just goggled. If he was still human, Harry bet he would be paler than the moon.

- …dear Merlin. – Whispered Voldemort, stepping closer and brushing Harry's scar with his fingers. Harry sighed blissfully at the feel of his magic, easily letting his own magic show the traces of Voldemort's magic in his soul in response; the old blazing pain inflicted by same touch three years ago long forgotten – You really are my horcrux.

- Well, duh. Since I was one. - Harry laughed nervously, shoving diary and kelch into his pockets. – I will surrender, you will make great monologue about how you win and all, then we talk? Somewhere calm? Safe? Far away from here? – He glanced briefly at wizards still fighting, noticing that more and more who was closer started to look at them.

Perfect, just fucking perfect.

Voldemort looked at him inquiringly.

- How strange… you do not fear me. Just a days ago my touch, let alone my company, was revolting to you, and now – you seek it of a free will…

Harry laughed nervously, again.

- It's kind of hard to hate you when I know how much shit the wizarding world gave you and how much you have to put up with. – He explained slowly. – To be honest, I just fell so, so sorry for you… not pity, just sorrow for all the hurt you have to endure. – He added even more slowly, quietly, knowing bloody well how much he is risking now. – I'm not sure when, but I just loved you at some point, that's all.

Voldemort snorted with cold, emotionless laugh, still caressing Nagini's head lazily, calmly.

- You just loved the monster that killed your parent and tried to kill you numerous tiems! What a generous treat coming from you, such an effort.

Harry sighed, coming closer, and poked him in the chest.

- I loved Tom Riddle. – He hissed boldly, crossing his arms. – I loved lonely, forgotten child, whom no one wanted to help.

- That pathetic child is dead! – Voldemort hissed angrily and aim at him with his wand, the great elder wand, the last of the deathly hallows… Harry barely manage to hide his toughs and quickly concentrated on Voldemort himself again. He wasn't really in the mood to die because of Voldemort's tantrum caused by discovery of destruction of two other hallows.

So he shrugged with little worry.

- I saw it. – He said bluntly. – Search my memories. When you hit me with Avada, I could leave your horcux under these bench… but I loved it, cleaned it and keep it warm, hugged it and lull to sleep. – He looked Voldemort in the eyes, against all circumstances finding the ruby-red orbs amazingly pretty to look at and almost hypnotizing.

Nice thing to be the last one he saw before his dead, that's for sure…

- What I saw, was real you. Poor, broken child who never had a chance to mend his wounds. Sweet child, who calmed and smiled at the first sign of someone care and love. – He poked Voldemort in the chest again, ignoring wand still aimed at him. – That was real you! Not this scary puppet you use to shield yourself, but the little, sweet child I loved! Under all this stupid visage you are still yuorself! You are Tom Riddle, no matter how much you change your appearance, or how much you damage your soul! No matter what you say to yourself, I know that is the only true! – He wasn't sure when he started shouting, but sudden and absolute silence, Voldemort furious look added, clearly told him he stopped using parlestounge. He wonders briefly how he would be killed and if he would get a chance to take the child with him to the train this time, when he heard familiar cry behind him:

- Harry!

He stiffened, turning slowly and seeing battered Ron. He was supporting Hermione, both of them standing with Neville and some other DA members alongside few teachers.

He really wanted to run to them, to won this war for them, to give them anything he could, because he loved them, but… he know now that he had to choose. He finally grow up to see this. He sighed, at their stares filled with hope backing up slightly, until he was standing not event an inch from Voldemort, with his back touching the man's chest.

He still felt the raised wand, this time somewhere close to his side.

He swallowed and tilted his head back till he was looking at Voldemort's face, with desperate pleading in his eyes. He hated letting other decide for him what to do with him, but… now he wanted him to decide, he wanted him to be one to kill him or take him in. Voldemort rolled his eyes and grimaces, probably hearing his every tough, but Harry didn't care.

- And here I thought for years that horcrux melded into living snake was troublesome.

Harry smiled with blissful relief, leaning against him and relaxing completely.

- You ours?

He giggled a little at Nagini's question and glanced at Volde… Tom. He know that it was just Tom in Voldemort's skin and clothing. He saw how he winced at this one of his particular toughts, but nodded.

- Ours, Nagini. – He hissed slowly, as if he was testing this words.

Harry, with knowledge of his past, war pretty sure it really was the first time when Tom was able to tell that something or someone belonged to his, was his.

Tom wrapped his arm around his and held him tightly to his chest, hissing:

- Mine! – he was smiling possessively, almost predatory.

Harry nodded his head obediently, leaning against him completely, ignoring shouted questions about what he was doing, how he survived, calls for him to move and run, to do something, anything, the warnings that he is in danger, that he should run, that he would die, and all other sorts of noise. Instead he looked curiously as one of the Death Eaters suddenly apporate beside Tom as if Accio-ed, rolling up his slew to expose his Dark Mark. Tom only touched it slightly, the snake moved a tiny bit, and suddenly – all Death Eater disapporated, mid-fight, mid-sentence, mid-move, just in the middle of anything they were doing.

It was only then Harry noticed that on the further ground the fight resolved again and only the closest people were observing him and Tom.

- Do not waste your breath on cheering, you fools! – Tom shouted loudly in ice-cold voice, ceasing any shy cries and cheers that stared when Death Eaters disappeared. Some, like Ron and Hermiona, were probably thinking that he somehow blackmailed Tom with the horcruxes.

- As if I would let you even finish that kind of sentence! – Tom snorted. – It is only one fight - one which I decided to back from, to safe the very thing I am fighting about from destruction. – He explained coldly, looking around with taunt in his eyes. – But be aware… it is the first, but not last battle. Now, as I gathered everything that I need to reach success, and you lost your precious Chosen one… – He spit last words as if they were venom in his mouth, stroking Harry's cheek and ostentatiously wrapping strand of his hair around his finger, all while Nagini climbed on his other arm and wrapped around them, sliding down beside Tom's neck to lie her head on Harry's arm.

He rolled his eyes, but petted her lightly.

- Did you have to? – He sighed, closing his eyes to avert the view of people around him, looking at him with disappointment and anger and all this hurtful stuff he didn't want to care about, but still felt each one nonetheless.

- Ours youngling. - Hissed Nagini.

- You belong to me, the future ruler of this world. I advise you to start getting used to it.

Harry giggled, somehow blocking his memories about muggles movie-villains and how they always ended up. But Tom's words made him wonder just for what did he now agreed upon, giving himself willingly to him. The existence of horcrux, the life of Tom's pet…

Sudden tug in his stomach reaped him from his thoughts and almost draw back his last meal, which was Merlin knows when. The rapidity of their apporation made him cling to Tom and clench his eyes tighter.

The eternal life of pet of the future ruler of this world, being protected and cared of in safe, warm home, with someone he loved beside him.

Well, he could ended worse. Far worse.