Author's Note 1: This is a gender bend story where Harry Potter is a female. The events of the story take place during the second year, but she never gets her hands on the diary and in a turn of events, is kidnapped by Tom possessing Ginny. I don't own Harry Potter; it solely belongs to J.K. Rowling!
Author's Note 2: This story was written for The Houses Competition Year 3.
House: Ravenclaw
Year: 7
Category: Additional
Prompt: Tragic Love
Word count: 1745
"Bold and italic" is conversation in parseltongue.
She wanted it all to be a joke, wanted the nightmare she was having to stop taunting her and leave her be. But the almost lifeless body of Ginny, getting paler and paler with every passing second, proved her otherwise.
Her whole world had come crumbling down in a matter of seconds, shattered as soon as the words, I AM LORD VOLDEMORT, appeared in the air.
She didn't know how to process the information thrown her way, didn't know whether to hide in a dark chamber for all eternity or blurt out the truth to the all too familiar face standing a few feet from her.
The familiar face of Marvolo, her Marvolo; her only family in this lonely world, the man she knew better than she knew herself, the only person she would ever trust with her life, and apparently the one who had lied to her all along.
"You're a fool, Harriet Potter!" The boy wearing her Marvolo's face chided her, a smug grin plastered on his face; his all too familiar grin just a painful reminder of how easily she had lost everything. And Merlin! Wasn't he right?
Wasn't Harriet a fool enough to already be a puppet in the hands of his counterpart? Wasn't Harriet an imbecile to care for the killer of her parents? Wasn't she an idiot to believe the sweet assurances he had whispered in her ear? Was she not stupid enough to take shelter in his warm arms whenever the darkness of the cupboard scared the life out of her?
Wasn't the girl-who-lived, dumbest of all to fall in love with the Dark Lord?
She had stood there for what felt like an eternity, motionless and helpless, stood there even when he called the basilisk and ordered it to kill her. Something in her snapped at that moment because as much as she wanted to erase the horrible memory of this meeting from her mind, she wanted answers.
And, there was no way Harriet was letting sweet, innocent Ginny pay the price of her naivety.
So she had done what was the right thing to do, what honour demanded and she fought the basilisk. She had fought like the brave Gryffindors' her parents' were, she'd fought nothing like the snake she was.
She didn't notice the blood oozing out of her arm when she killed the damned snake, didn't see the phoenix tears healing her wounds, didn't witness the shocked expression on Marvolo...no, Tom's face, the face of the monstrous boy who possessed Ginny and then kidnapped Harriet.
She did, however, see him being torn to shreds and noticed how her heart beat frantically at the thought of something happening like this to Marvolo, her Marvolo.
He had witnessed the whole ordeal through her eyes, but that was the only option he was left with, since he was stuck in her brain all the time. He had witnessed the whole ordeal through her own eyes and allowed her to destroy the piece of the soul that once belonged to him.
He had witnessed the entire scenario but never once interfered.
He could recite, syllable by syllable, how the entire conversation between them was going to turn out, because Marvolo knew her better than he knew himself.
He knew she would question him until he gave into the answers, she would demand to know why had he lied to her, she would get emotional too, but she wouldn't give up on him. And that was the only thing he dreaded. He hated to see tears in her beautiful emerald eyes, despised seeing her in pain and helpless and lonely, loathed how much alike they were in so many cruel ways.
Fate must be laughing at him, cackling at the state he was in - the child of the prophecy, the one destined to defeat him was becoming his own saviour.
Her pure and warm soul had melted him, made him a new person altogether, taught him to feel emotions that once never existed in his dark world. And as everyone knew, Lord Voldemort was a selfish bastard.
How could he let the girl slip from his hand when he had just tasted the sweet essence of her existence? How could he avoid what felt like loving someone? How was Marvolo supposed to distance himself from her when she was the only person he belonged to?
The thoughts halted once again when he felt her falling asleep.
"You acted very brashly today, dearest. Didn't expect such ridiculousness from you." Was the greeting line he came up with as soon as she entered their shared dreamscape, which had taken the form of a library that night.
"Hello to you too, Marvolo." The usually cheery tone was absent, and he could see the accusations in her eyes. As expected, she chose to sit farthest from him, in the horrid red and gold armchair near the fireplace. He let her compose herself, let her contemplate the inner turmoil raving inside of her.
"Why?" Marvolo wouldn't have been able to hear the sweet whisper of her voice, had the silence not been so eerily painful.
"Why what, dearest?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!" She sent him a hard glare.
"On the contrary, I don't." He shrugged nonchalantly.
"You lied to me, Marvolo." Harriet finally exploded, anger getting a better hold at her. "Lied to me from the very beginning. You used me, manipulated me to get things done your way. How could you do this to me? I love you, always had, but you continued to keep me in the dark. You are a liar, Marvolo, just like Dumbledore!"
He'd listened to her ranting with patience, every word a stab to his own heart, but his tolerance finally snapped at the mere mention of the old coot.
Did the insolent child seriously think she could get away with this?
Harriet felt his demeanour change as soon as the word 'Dumbledore' left her mouth, and she quickly shut up. From a very early age, she had learnt, not to push Marvolo's buttons too far, or the consequences will be severe. Her stance remained stiff as he rounded the desk, lessening the distance separating them, his crimson eyes bring into the emerald ones.
"When did I lie to you?" he hissed dangerously low, making her shiver in fright.
"Do you remember the first thing you asked me when you just started speaking?" Another hiss and another blank stare from his girl.
"You asked 'who are you?' and my own reply was 'I'm just like you'. So tell me, little snake, when did I lie to you?" Little snake was the nickname Marvolo had given to Harriet when she was three, when she hissed her first words in Parseltongue. He'd been so ecstatic that day, that his girl had too been granted with his gift.
"Aren't we alike, my dear? Both of us, half-blood orphans, left on someone else's door like trash. Both of us speaking a language considered evil, both inflicted upon pain and torture of highest degrees. So when I said 'I'm just like you', how was it a lie?"
"You asked me if I knew your'parents' and I refused, how was that a lie? I demanded you not to call me 'Tom' because I hate how ordinary the name is, how is it a lie? How could you, of all people, accuse me of lying? How could you, dearest, not understand what the truth is, hmm?"
Harriet searched his face, thoroughly, ignoring the tightening of her chest at their close proximity not that he was kneeling in front of her. She searched his face, thoroughly, and found nothing but sincerity.
She was reminded of all the past times, past memories they had created, together. Marvolo was there, encouraging her to speak fluently when she babbled gibberish, he was there praising her when she drew her first drawing. He was so proud the day Harriet ranked first position in primary school, and so he was so furious when Vernon hit her for scoring better than Dudley. Marvolo had wanted to rip the pig to shreds but he had to take care of the girl first, his girl.
The day, Harriet had done her first accidental magic was the day he told her who he was. Until then Harriet just called him 'her only friend'. He taught her everything he could, made sure that she stood up to her bullies, always worried about her health above anything else. The happiest Harriet had seen Marvolo was the day she was sorted into Slytherin. He gave her a gift that evening, he told her about the 'Room of Requirement', so that they could start on her training with Parselmagic; and Harriet was on cloud nine.
They both loved each other in their own ways, always had, and just the thought of her life without him was enough to make her sick.
"What's the truth, Marvolo?" Harriet asked, not sure of what his answer would be but his crimson eyes never left hers. He wanted to make sure that she wasn't afraid of what he was going to say, wanted to make sure that she was ready to face her reality.
"The truth, is that I will never regret killing your parents." And she finally broke down, tears never stopping, betrayal in her eyes, but he went on because Lord Voldemort had always been a selfish bastard.
"I would never regret killing your parents, killing your father when he was defenseless, killing your mother when she stood protectively in front of you. I would never regret, dearest, casting the killing curse on you that night." That was the final blow, and Harriet lowered her eyes, trembling like a leaf until two warm arms engulfed her and pulled her firmly against his chest.
The familiar aura of Marvolo surrounded her, his scent soothing her despite the tornado of emotions she was struggling with. And she let him comfort her, do as he pleased, because no matter how horrible of a person he was, no matter how much he had already destroyed her life, Harriet could never hate him.
"But the truth doesn't matter to me." Harriet listened to his words carefully, but couldn't understand. She looked at him with puffy eyes and wet lashes.
"What matters to you then?"
"The fact that, you're mine." He hissed as he traced the lightning-bolt scar on her forehead.