Harry Potter and the Soul Shard
Chapter One
Thank You For The Immortality
'It's drowned... Please... Please let it be dead...' But Harry's pleas went unanswered.
Through the mist in front of him, he saw the dark outline of a man rising slowly from the cauldron. An icy surge of fear coursed through Harry, paralyzing his tightly bound form; He couldn't have escaped even if he'd been free of his bonds. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, deafening him, as his rapidly beating heart flooded his body with adrenaline. His 'fight or flight' instincts overwhelmed him and Harry became uncomfortably aware of how defenseless he really was. He was tightly bound, from head to toe, to a huge marble headstone. Unable to move an inch, he was incapable of even performing the redundant act of shielding himself with his arms.
Harry's eyes were squeezed shut, blocking out the horror before him. 'This isn't happening... Not real... Can't be...' Harry told himself desperately. He was beginning to feel giddy from hyperventilation, which made his current predicament feel surreal. It became easier to convince himself that it was all just a terrible nightmare and when he woke up, everything would be OK again.
Harry continued his internal mantra of 'Not real... Not real...' for what felt like an eternity. Without warning, his head exploded with pain emanating from his lightning bolt scar. His screams were muffled by the length of cloth Wormtail had stuffed into his mouth. Tightly bound, his writhing was prevented. It was unbearable, this agony that consumed his whole world.
When, finally, the pain subsided to a dull ache, Harry opened his eyes. There was a tall, slim man standing a few feet away from him, his back turned. The pathetic, quivering heap that was Wormtail lay at the man's feet.
"I wonder... How many will come when they feel their Master's call?" The man spoke softly but there was a dangerous undertone to his voice.
A series' of 'pop's announced the arrival of the anticipated Death Eaters as they apparated throughout the graveyard. As more of them continued to arrive, their predecessors cautiously approached through the forest of headstones. They kept their distance from the man who stood before Harry, who couldn't determine whether it was fear or disbelief that kept them at bay. Their faces were covered by their silver Death Eater masks, hiding their reactions as well as their identities.
"Are you..?" one of the Death Eaters tried to voice the question running through all their minds, including Harry's. He hesitated before rephrasing his question, "Who are you?"
"What's the matter, Lucius? Don't you recognise your Master?" There was an intimidating edge to the man's... Voldemort's...voice. He kicked Wormtail aside and stepped forward a few paces, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of welcome, "Come, my Death Eaters, and rejoice, for I am restored to a physical form."
"M-my Lord! Please forgive me!" Lucius stumbled forward and threw himself to the ground before his master, grovelling and kissing the hem of his robe. "I apologise, Master! You look so different..."
"Yes, it would seem that the special ingredient I insisted upon using for my resurrection was more...potent...than anticipated," Voldemort turned and indicated his prisoner.
Harry flinched when Voldemort's attention landed on his prone form. For the first time, he saw the face of the monster who murdered his parents... Harry frowned doubtfully. He had expected a hideous creature or, perhaps at the very least, a creepy, old man... But this? The man before him was handsome and young, perhaps in his early twenties. He had striking reddish-burgundy eyes and thick lashes, his attractive, pale face framed by his rich, dark locks of messy hair. There was a distinct air of nobility in the way he carried himself, just like a pureblood snob; Harry was reminded of Draco Malfoy.
"Harry Potter..."
Harry shuddered at the sound of his name oozing from the lips of his captor so slowly and clearly, like he was savouring it. He summoned his courage and met Voldemort's gaze grimly as the young man stalked towards his prey. Any doubts he had about the man's identity were erased when he looked into those piercing eyes and glimpsed the demon within; It was like looking through a window to his soul...
What felt like an electric shock, suddenly struck Harry's forehead. Harry flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, breaking eye contact with Voldemort, but the feeling faded quickly. When he opened his eyes once more, there was a robed chest right in front of his face. Harry quickly shifted his gaze upward; Voldemort was significantly taller than Harry. Burgundy eyes gazed coldly down at him. Voldemort, ever so slowly, reached towards Harry's face. Harry's heart skipped a beat, his eyes betraying his fear. Voldemort smiled, his fingertips hovering an inch from Harry's cheek...
There was a distinct 'pop' from behind Voldemort, who gave Harry a look that promised it wasn't over. He turned around and Harry allowed himself to breath once more.
"Severus... I was beginning to think you would not come." Voldemort's voice had that dangerous tone to it once more; the voice that promised misfortune upon disappointment.
Harry shifted, or at least tried to, at the mention of his potions professor and hope flared within him.
Like a true professional, Snape assessed the situation quickly and without emotion, not allowing his eyes to linger on Harry for too long. Snape knelt before the young man with the terrible eyes, "I apologise for my tardiness, my Lord. Slipping away from Dumbledore's watchful eyes proved difficult." He bent down and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe with as much dignity as one could possibly display whilst grovelling.
"Stand up, Severus... Take your place in the circle once more," Voldemort's voice was devoid of emotion, his eyes coldly following the potions master's every move until he had taken up his position.
One by one, the other Death Eaters grovelled before their master and kissed the hem of his robe. They then contributed their person to the construction of a large circle around Lord Voldemort, of which Harry became a part without any say in the matter. The Death Eaters on either side of him left a gap for Nagini to maintain her repeated circling around Harry and the tombstone to which he was bound. It felt, to Harry, as though the large serpent was circling him like a shark circling its prey. He morbidly wondered if Voldemort would feed his lifeless body to her when he was finished torturing Harry to death. It occurred to him to try talking to Nagini... But to what end? Knowing his luck, Harry figured he would only succeed in making the frightening creature more eager to eat him. Harry gave up on the idea and focused on the rescue his potions master might potentially provide.
Harry's scar, which had been steadily throbbing in time with his pulse since his arrival via portkey, now seemed to lull him. A great weariness weighed down on him and his eyelids tried to fall but Harry fought it. He focused on the proceedings before him in an attempt to stave off sleep, 'I must be going into shock... Gotta fight it... Must stay...awake...'
Snape casually watched Harry through the corner of his eyes. The boy was white as a sheet and he seemed to be struggling to stay awake. Even as he watched, Harry's pallor gained a hint of blue before the boy finally gave in to his weariness. 'Damn it, Potter! How am I going to save your idiotic life now?' His calm exterior did not betray what was going through his mind. He dreaded the thought of blowing his cover but had to at least try to save the boy.
The last Death Eater joined the circle and Snape chose that moment to step forward, "My Lord, may I speak plainly?"
Voldemort looked curiously at the potions master, "You may."
In a respectful yet slightly bored tone, Snape addressed the Dark Lord, "I believe your guest is dying without your permission, my Lord."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he glanced at Harry. The boy was very still and slowly turning blue. Voldemort's attitude rapidly changed from cold to furious, "Fix him! If he dies, you die!"
Snape didn't dare hesitate, "Yes, my Lord." Snape quickly bowed his head, removed his mask and rushed to Harry's aid. He quickly untied Harry and laid him on the ground, removing the gag from the boy's mouth. The boy's pulse was weak and thready and he had recently ceased breathing. Snape's hand dove into the folds of his robes and he retrieved a tiny, crystal vial. Using an eyedropper, he carefully squeezed one drop of the pale blue fluid into each of Harry's eyes. Snape had barely resealed the vial before Harry began greedily sucking in air. His eyelids fluttered but he did not wake. Without pause, Snape was already scanning Harry's body with a spell. 'Poison...' Snape ripped the tattered remains of Harry's right pants-leg open to reveal a gory sight; Harry's leg was badly broken, the white bone poking out of mangled flesh. There were deep gashes on Harry's leg, as though he had been mauled by a large beast. Snape noticed that, besides the copious amount of blood on Harry's leg, there was also some kind secretion.
"Potter! Wake up!" Snape repeatedly smacked Harry gently on the cheek, "Come on! Snap out of it!"
Harry moaned and blearily opened his eyes.
"What bit you? Potter! What bit you?" Snape raised his voice and shook Harry by the shoulders. Harry's head lolled about, unconscious once more. Frustrated, Snape aimed his wand at the boy, "Enervate!"
Harry flinched and his eyes snapped open. His breathing became laboured.
Snape grabbed Harry's head in his hands and forced the boy to look at him, "What bit you? I need to know which antidote to administer!"
It took Harry's sluggish mind a moment to register what Snape was saying. "Mmmsehpiider..."was Harry's unintelligible answer.
"What?" Snape repeated Harry's mumbles in his head and tried to translate the gibberish into an actual word, "M... Seh... Piider... Spider! A spider did this?"
But Harry's eyes rolled back and he began to convulse in Snape's hands, white foam spilling from his mouth.
"Shit!" Snape reached into the folds of his robes, thinking quickly. He knew of the giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest but could only assume that they left such wounds as Harry's. He hoped some exotic breed of giant spider hadn't been added to the maze for the final task. Snape retrieved the antidote and what appeared to be a small, silver gun but was actually a syringe. He hastily uncorked the vial and inserted it into the gun. Holding the convulsing boy down, Snape injected the emerald liquid directly into the boy's jugular vein.
Harry stopped seizing and Snape banished the foam that was blocking his airway. With a flick of his wand, the bone protruding grotesquely from Harry's flesh snapped back into place. Harry was blissfully unconscious for that. Snape cleared away the excess blood and spider secretion and went to work repairing the damage.
Meanwhile, Voldemort had rounded on Wormtail with violently red eyes that practically glowed. He roared, "Useless vermin! How could you let this happen?"
Wormtail grovelled before his master, shaking with terror, "M-master, I d-d-did not know he was injured so badly! I swear!P-p-please-!"
"Your ignorance may have cost me something irreplaceable! Harry Potter is mine! You would take my property from me?"
"N-n-no! My Lord, I beg-!" Wormtail squeaked. He sounded like a frightened animal.
Voldemort cut him off once more, fury emanating from his every word, "Your excuse is as pathetic as you are! Harry had better live..!" He left the threat hanging, leaving Wormtail to his imagination. Voldemort had half turned in time to see Harry begin to seize in Snape's hands. Fresh anger fueled his wand, "Crucio!"
Wormtail wailed and writhed, his eyes rolling in their sockets until Voldemort released him from the curse. Barely coherent and twitching uncontrollably, Wormtail begged, "P-p-p-please! M-m-my L-lord! I h-helped y-y-you-!"
"Are you suggesting that I owe you, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked icily.
Pure, unadulterated horror was clearly visible in Wormtail's eyes and words, "No! N-n-no, m-my Lord! I would never-!"
"Crucio!"
Wormtail screamed and flailed on the ground as Voldemort watched with contempt. He could sense the disgust his Death Eaters directed towards the rat; a sentiment he shared. Voldemort held the pain curse on his servant for a long time and, when he had finally released it, Wormtail was a gibbering mess that was incapable of speech.
The Dark Lord gave Wormtail a firm kick in the ribs for good measure before turning his back on the rat-like man. He approached Snape, who was busy repairing Harry's leg, and watched in silence.
Once Harry's leg was heavily bandaged, Snape coaxed a blood replenishing potion and a healing potion down the boy's throat. He couldn't risk looking sympathetic so he refrained from administering any pain relief. "He will live, my Lord."
"I will require him conscious," Voldemort said quietly.
Snape quickly retrieved a pepper-up potion and poured it down Harry's throat.
Harry coughed as he regained consciousness and his eyes connected with Snape's. He was suddenly painfully aware of his injury and his scar drummed agony through his skull. As the antidote negated the venom in Harry's system, it felt as though his blood was burning and Harry trembled and sweated with fever. His eyes pleaded with Snape.
Snape maintained his cool exterior, replaced his Death Eater mask and bowed to his master. Then he returned to the circle.
Voldemort ignored Snape as he gazed at Harry with cruelty in his eyes, "I have suffered the existence of a bodiless wraith for thirteen years because of you, Harry. Not a day went by that I didn't dream of this night."
Fear coursing through his veins, Harry tried to move; to put distance between himself and that monster. He could barely move for the pain and weakness that plagued his body but he managed to half sit up and push himself away a little.
Nagini reared up and hissed directly beside him, "And where do you think you're going?"
Harry froze. "Away from him!" Harry replied in parseltongue. He didn't know how, but he could somehow tell that Nagini was amused by his reply and not at all surprised that he could communicate with her.
"There is no escape. Surely you realise this."
Harry glared at the serpent defiantly, "So I should just give up, right?"
Nagini tilted her head as though in thought, "You would fight a losing battle? Knowingly?"
Harry slumped to the ground. What little strength he had was waning fast. In between gasps, Harry murmured, "Is this your subtle way of calling me an idiot?" He felt so weak and helpless, sweat pouring off his deathly pale face. Harry fought the urge to vomit, not wanting to give his enemies the satisfaction.
Voldemort continued, "As I was saying... The destruction of my body caught me completely by surprise. But I didn't die, as you can see. I never stopped wondering 'why?'. Then one night, three years ago, I was within reach of the philosopher's stone and my salvation. You, of course, had to play the hero and ruin everything. If you recall, and I'm sure you do, the strangest thing happened. The body of the man, whom I possessed, disintegrated at your touch. The more I thought about it, the clearer it all became. The truth: Every time I murdered an 'innocent', the integrity of my soul was weakened. Your mudblood mother was simply the last straw, so to speak. When I killed Lily, my soul shattered. A single soul shard escaped and latched onto the nearest living thing: You, Harry Potter."
The Death Eaters, who had been listening with rapt attention, murmured in awe. Snape's figurative mask slipped and allowed an expression of shock and foreboding to briefly show on his face, which was hidden beneath his literal mask, before he quickly schooled his features.
Harry continued to lay still and concentrate on breathing. He couldn't determine whether Voldemort spoke the truth or had lost his marbles. His scepticism showed on his face.
Rather than being offended by Harry's reaction, Voldemort smiled, "In time, you will realise that I speak the truth but right now, I would like to thank you. When you stole my soul shard, you provided me with the immortality I have long sought. Apparently, souls can only move onto...whatever comes after death...if they are complete."
Another murmur of incredulity passed through the circle of Death Eaters, which Harry ignored. He was frowning in thought. Something bugged him about Voldemort's explanation. "So... You couldn't kill me because your curse was reflected back at you by this piece of soul?" Harry asked.
"That's what I'm saying, yes," Voldemort answered patiently.
"Doesn't that mean that, technically speaking, you killed yourself?" Harry tried his best to smirk at Voldemort through the pain. He didn't let himself wonder about the wisdom of taunting the most evil man on the planet since Hitler.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he was silent for a long moment. "How does it feel to carry a part of me inside you, Harry?" He answered a question with a question.
The surrounding Death Eaters dared not utter a sound as they watched in anticipation. Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes, 'Stupid Gryffindor!'
Harry wanted so badly to make Voldemort look bad in front of his servants. Taking his cue from the monster, Harry schooled his facial expression into a very Voldemort-like cold glare and tried to imitate his tormentor, "It's persistently irritating and constantly vying for my attention, just like its rightful owner."
Their audience gaped behind their masks as Harry and Voldemort had a glaring contest. If the situation weren't so serious, Snape would have burst out laughing. In that moment, the boy-who-lived and Lord Voldemort looked so similar, they could have passed for brothers. It was surreal and kind of cute in a very scary way.
Finally, Voldemort did what Snape dared not; He burst out laughing. Harry looked startled, then miffed and Snape could have sworn he saw the boy pout a little. This was, by far, the weirdest evening of Snape's entire life.
Finally, Voldemort toned his laughter down to a mere grin, "You will learn to love it, Harry. In the meantime, I have a gift for you..." Voldemort turned and addressed Harry's professor, "Severus, I require your competence. Fetch Harry for me."
Snape obeyed his master's command and approached Harry, who was trying to hide his anxiety. He carefully lifted the boy in his arms and carried him to the Dark Lord.
"Now stand him up but do not release him," Voldemort instructed, still smiling.
Snape lowered Harry's legs to the ground. When his injured leg took some of his weight, a cry of pain escaped Harry's mouth and he collapsed in Snape's arms. His back was pressed against the potions master as the older man held him firmly, his arms wrapped around Harry's chest.
Voldemort was playing with something in one of his deep pockets, an excited glint in his eyes. "You're right-handed, aren't you, Harry?"
Harry stared at his feet and didn't answer, so Snape subtly gave the boy a squeeze. He could only hope Harry understood the meaning behind it: 'For Merlin's sake, Potter! Answer the man!'
"Yes," Harry whispered. He felt so dizzy and nauseous and weak. He just wanted to go home, to Hogwarts, and have a long sleep.
Voldemort's smile widened. "Severus, hold Harry's right wrist."
Snape shifted his grip on Harry so that his left arm was wrapped around the boy's upper chest, over his pounding heart. He then firmly grasped Harry's right wrist in his other hand and awaited further instructions.
Voldemort stepped forward and pressed something into Harry's hand. Disoriented and vague as he felt, it took Harry a moment to realise what he was holding; his wand. A surprised jolt ran through Harry's body and he lifted his head to look at Voldemort in confusion. Then he promptly began puking his guts up, his wand slipping from his hand during his involuntary heaving. When he was reduced to dry retching, Snape poured a potion down Harry's throat that tasted minty. Harry went limp in Snape's arms, slipping in and out of consciousness. He couldn't have lifted his head again even if he'd been inclined to bother.
Another potion was forced down his throat and Harry coughed and groaned as he was pulled back to his awful reality. His wand was pushed into his hand once more and Harry forced himself to raise his head from it's slumped position. Breathing raggedly, eyelids drooping now and again and head nodding as gravity fought to drag him back down, Harry looked up into Voldemort's burgundy eyes.
Voldemort smirked. "My gift to you, Harry: You gave me immortality and I give you the man who betrayed your parents to their deaths." He indicated a quivering heap on the ground to Harry's left; it was Wormtail.
Harry didn't know how to feel about this new development. He despised the miserable bastard who ratted out his parents to Voldemort, framed his godfather to a life sentence in Azkaban and helped resurrect the monster who haunted his nightmares but he didn't like what Voldemort was implying. What did he expect Harry to do?
"Go ahead, Harry. Kill him."
Snape turned Harry around so he was facing Wormtail and lifted his arm so that Harry was aiming his wand at the animagus. Harry's mind was racing. He clutched his wand in his trembling hand until his knuckles turned white. He had yearned to punish the rat bastard since he had first met him. Hell, he had wanted this man to suffer since he had first learned that his parents had been betrayed, he just didn't know the truth back then. Wormtail ruined his life and stole his childhood; almost every misery Harry had ever experienced could be traced back to this pathetic excuse for a wizard. Harry wanted him dead. He gritted his teeth, 'I can do this... Two words and it's over... I can do it...' Harry didn't even notice that he was clutching the arm that was wrapped around him; Snape's arm. He opened his mouth to utter those two little words that caused the green light... The same light he had dreamed of since his parents' murder. 'I will avenge them... I can do this for mum and dad and Sirius...' Sirius! If the Ministry had Wormtail alive, Sirius' innocence could be proven and he would be a free man!
Harry released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding and closed his eyes. Though he was relieved that killing Wormtail wasn't an option, he was also a little disappointed, "Since he is my gift, can I assume that means I get to decide his fate?"
Voldemort eyed Harry suspiciously, "That depends upon what you have in mind..."
Disappointed that Voldemort hadn't outright agreed, Harry made his bold suggestion, "I want him delivered, alive, to the Ministry in a very public manner so that they cannot deny his continued existence and Sirius' innocence."
Voldemort looked intrigued, "I believe that can be arranged... after I wipe his memories of my continued existence. Can't have him blabbing about me, now, can we?" He smiled cruelly down at Wormtail, "The dementor's kiss is a suitable punishment for his betrayal of those who trusted him and put their lives in his hands. Disloyalty is a despicable thing."
"Since you're in such a charitable mood, would you consider releasing me?" Harry already knew what the answer would be but he hated feeling grateful towards his worst enemy and it made him want to lash out at the bastard.
Voldemort chortled bemusedly, "You humour me, Harry. I haven't felt this way in many years. I think we shall get along just fine."
Harry glared at him. The only thing stopping him from fighting off the Death Eater that held him and attacking Voldemort was the fact that it was Snape who held him. Well... that and the fact that he was currently lacking strength. Harry may not have been particularly fond of his potions professor, but he wasn't prepared to risk the man's life.
Voldemort summoned Harry's wand right out of his hand and pocketed it, "Harry seems to have perked up a bit; I believe he can stand on his own now, Severus."
Snape slowly released Harry, so that he had the chance to adjust to his own weight, before returning to the circle again.
Harry stood unsteadily on his own, balancing on his good leg. He was trembling violently, exhausted, and he struggled to remain standing on his only functioning, shaky leg. He glared at Voldemort and tried to think of an insult to throw at him but nothing came to mind except, "I hate you!"
Voldemort smirked humorously, "That's the spirit, Harry! Don't you ever let that flame within your heart die." He was mocking Harry but he had also grown quite fond of the boy's courage and determination. It was a refreshing change to the grovelling and begging of his servants, not that he would ever allow them to speak to him like Harry did and live. Perhaps it was because he found the boy to be simply adorable...
"What the hell do you want from me?" Harry demanded.
"Ah, yes, the big question," Voldemort smiled. "I want you, Harry, and I always get what I want. Therefore, I own you. You are my... pet; my play-thing. I will never let you go... Does that answer your question?"
Harry looked like he was going to be sick again. "But why?" he whispered, eyes wide with barely contained panic.
Voldemort tilted his head, savouring the fearful expression on Harry's face, "Isn't it obvious? You have something of mine..."
Harry flinched and almost lost his balance. He wrapped his arms around his middle, feeling exposed, trapped and hopeless. He felt like he was suffocating. Something touched his shoulder and Harry snapped out of his reverie. Unfortunately, he did lose his balance this time but strong arms wrapped around him, preventing his fall. Harry struggled and tried to identify who the offending arms belonged to, fleetingly hoping it was Snape before he realised how sad it was that he actually wanted to be touched by his snarky professor. Harry looked up into burgundy eyes and froze, fear paralyzing him once more.
"Hello, my pet," Voldemort leered, taking in the teen's pale, sweaty face and wide, fearful, emerald eyes.
"Let me go!" Harry choked feebly.
Voldemort pulled Harry closer to his chest, crushing the boy's body against his own. He slowly ran one of his hands up Harry's back and over his shoulder, noting that the boy looked like he was about to pass out again. He cupped Harry's cheek and his new pet screamed. His body was wracked by spasms like he was under the cruciatus curse.
Voldemort's reaction was the polar opposite of Harry's, however. Upon their skin contact, a wave of intense euphoria coursed through him. Voldemort gasped and looked up into the night sky before letting his eyes flicker to a close. Voldemort was in pure ecstasy; he could feel his soul resonating with its lost shard inside of Harry. The feeling only lasted seconds before fading away. Voldemort opened his eyes and blinked as though he had just woken up from a long sleep. He looked down and noticed that Harry was limp in his arms.
"My Lord, do you require assistance?" Lucius' voice asked.
Voldemort gathered his wits about him, "Yes. Go to Malfoy Manor and prepare a room for myself and Harry. I will require a cage for my pet. Take that," he indicated Wormtail, "with you. I will be along shortly."
Lucius bowed, grasped Wormtail like he was something unclean and disapparated.
"We will meet again soon. We have thirteen years of catching up to do. In the meantime, do nothing to alert anyone of my return." With that said, Voldemort lifted Harry into his arms, careful not to touch his skin. Nagini climbed her master as though he was a tree and Voldemort disapparated, taking Harry and Nagini with him.
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Author's Note: I realised, whilst writing the second chapter, where I wanted to take this story. So I had to make a few alterations to chapter one to make it work. I don't know about you, but I hate plot holes.
Also, I would like to thank everyone who has supported me in regard to this story by reviewing most encouragingly. It really helps motivate me to write more *hint hint* lol
Don't forget, I will be changing my pen name from Spirit Mornea soon...