Wow, I cannot believe that I have FINALLY gotten to the point, that I can publish this! I had wanted to make this into a longer chapter, but I was just so excited! I must thank the authors on this website, that have provided so much loving support for my venture. You guys rock!
Now, since this is my first fic, I must ask: Please be kind? : ) It's okay if you're not... if you hate it; however, if you do hate it, just move along.
Also take note that I am not a huge fan of switching Point-of-Views within a chapter, but in this case, I felt it necessary.
A better summary is on its way.
I suppose I will be needing a Beta.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter Universe.
The Assimilation of Being
Chapter One
"And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."- Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
They had done it; entered the cave, passed through the lake, and drained the crystal basin. Dumbledore was currently lying a ways away, slowly
heaving but otherwise unresponsive. The hollow cave was once again filled with an eerie silence, which did nothing to calm his nerves. Yet, now that
Dumbledore had finished the potion, he thought, they would be able to leave soon. Harry had deduced the worst was over.
In the meantime, his attention was directed back to the empty basin, where the locket waited. He turned toward it slowly, prepared to face a new obstacle. He approached with caution now, to squash any impending surprises that may still be in store.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief; the basin was still empty of liquid, and the locket lied as innocent as ever. A pale blue light reflected on its emerald gems.
Now that he had a moment to reflect, it truly was a well-crafted locket. It was a shame that it had to be another tool for Voldemort's gain.
Harry reached for the locket, and thought of how it should have been used; as a gift to a loved one, perhaps? He wondered, would Ginny like something like this? He scooped the locket into his waiting hand. In those first moments while the locket lied in his palm, he saw Ginny's flaming red hair whipping around a smooth gold chain; her alabaster neck pulsing, underneath his very own long, slender fingers.
He closed his eyes, as a chill began to run up his arm. Harry stood, with the locket clutched in his left hand. He was no longer in control of his body. The cold washed over him, and all he could envision were these… his fingers lightly trailing over Ginny's skin. His thumb pressed down upon her milky neck.
Harry vaguely noticed his knees give way beneath him, and then he succumbed to darkness.
(Dumbledore POV)
Dumbledore quenched his eyes and gasped. He choked on air, while it filled his lungs, and deduced that he must have screamed for quite some time. It was dark, with only a slight illumination reflecting upon the crystal basin, many feet away from him. Remnants of the ghastly potion still passed through his body, leaving him weak and sore all over. His emotions were still quite rampant; anguish and terror continued to grip him, in momentary blips.
He laid for minutes, staring up at the cave's high top, as he attempted to calm the torrent images within his mind. The silence that welcomed him only served to worry him more, as he wondered what had come of his dear Harry.
Carefully, Dumbledore sat up and searched slowly for his wand within his robes. He pulled it out and conjured a great flame, which he placed in the very middle of the island. Almost immediately, he noticed with relief, that Harry was right there, standing in front of the basin. They had succeeded, he thought, and shortly, they would leave for Hogwarts, and mark this as an unforgettable learning experience. His voice hoarse, the Headmaster called out to Harry:
"I believe this evening has been a success, wouldn't you agree, Harry?"
Harry did not consult with the Headmaster. In fact, Harry didn't show any sign of response at all. Curiously, Albus Dumbledore watched Harry, who merely stood in front of the basin; his lips were thinned, and his eyes scrunched, yet they never wavered.
"Are you alright, Harry? I believe it is time for—"
Suddenly, Harry's eyes bulged out of their sockets, as he let out a large gasp. Albus' body jerked at the sudden movement. He watched Harry's eyes rolled back into his head, as his body began to tremble. Shortly after, Harry dropped the floor of the island; tremors continued to rush throughout the young man's torso.
Dumbledore inched forward in horror, as he watched the boy twitch. His own terror was filling him again, as he tried to think of what had come over Harry so quickly. Another machination of Voldemort's, without a doubt. Yet… what? What could Harry have possibly done, to excite such a response?
In an opportune moment, Dumbledore noticed a slight glint of gold, peeking through the tight clutch of Harry's left hand. Dumbledore's eyes widened as his brow constricted; he stared and thought with apprehension, what delicate process Harry must be going through in these few precious seconds.
The gleaming reflection of pool waters upon the roof of the cave welcomed Harry when his eyes finally opened. Simply, he felt good. Aside from lying on a stone floor, his limbs were unnaturally relaxed, and his mind was clear of wayward thoughts. He laid for some time, watching the slivers of light dance above him. He rubbed the locket's face with his thumb, tracing the emerald 'S' repeatedly. It felt meditative. There was a strange solace in this cave, he thought. He could lie here for hours… days, even. He wanted the cave to be his.
Unfortunately, his reverie was cut short, by the throaty noise of Albus Dumbledore's voice.
"Harry… Harry, we must leave at once. Danger still lurks here."
Harry scowled at the blatant disruption. Nonetheless, Dumbledore was right: They couldn't stay here. With one longing glance at the pool's reflection, he sat up to find Dumbledore sitting a few feet away… wand trained on him.
"Is it you, Harry?"
Harry squinted at Dumbledore, confused.
"Err… Yeah. Who else would I be?" Harry replied.
He noted a few things very quickly: His headmaster had not moved from where he had drank the potion, the wand was not only aimed at Harry, but was shaking… and the look of flagrant caution, which he regarded Harry with. His chest tightened at the implications.
Steeling himself, he turned upward, to look at the old man, in the eyes.
And while he looked into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore — questioning, suspicious — he saw something that should not have been possible for Harry. Within the trance of Dumbledore's eyes, Harry saw Snape in the Headmaster's office, and heard the murmurs of a conversation between the two:
"So the boy . . . the boy must die?
"We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,"
"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment? … … Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter —"
Harry had been violently slammed out of Dumbledore's mind. He stared over at the fragile Headmaster, whose wand shook, as he pointed directly at Harry. Anger that felt oddly foreign to him, began to well up within his body, fully directed towards the deceiving Headmaster.
Shock. Disbelief. Realization. He had somehow just legilimized his Headmaster. He saw Snape and Dumbledore… he heard the conversation. Back to reality, the professor was still pointing his wand at him.
Harry spoke in a harsh whisper "What do you think you're doing?"
But Dumbledore did not respond immediately. Instead, his features slackened, as if he planned to do nothing more than discuss Harry's Charms homework; his wand never lowered.
"Harry… you must listen to me carefully, because you are in great danger. That locket in your hand is not what it seems." He said slowly. "Set it on the cave floor, and slide it toward me. Then, back—"
"Great danger? Great danger!" Harry's face darkened, as he leaned forward on his knees, still clutching the locket. "The only danger, is... Is—YOU! You lied to me! You've been setting me up all these years! Are you out of your fucking mind?"
He stared straight ahead at the Headmaster's raised wand, running through all of the implications. The obvious invitation to the Philosopher's Stone… the lack of intervention with the Chamber… Sirius' conviction… everything from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the fiasco from last year. Would Sirius have lived, if Dumbledore had listened to him? Of course. Dumbledore. Who had chosen the Dursleys for his caretakers? Dumbledore. Try his strength. Dumbledore. He must die. Dumbledore.
"Can you not tell, Harry? The locket is affecting you at this very moment. You need to let go."
Harry's eyes widened exponentially. Within the torrent of his anger, he felt a tinge of amusement. Suddenly, he whipped his head back, and barked a laugh. He looked from the wary face of Dumbledore to the locket.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. It's not doing anything to me." His voice rose higher "And after all this time, and you're still trying to avoid how you've betrayed me!" He threw the locket towards the Headmaster, pelting him in the chest. It slid down into the Dumbledore's lap. He picked it up gingerly, pressing it against his left palm. It was warm. He sighed.
"Let us leave, and discuss your concerns at Hogwarts."
"Lower your wand, and we'll talk right here."
"I will not."
"YOU WILL!"
Suddenly, a force sped its way from Harry's torso, directly towards Dumbledore, effectively yanking the wand out of his hand. Harry looked on in awe, as Dumbledore's mask was replaced with horror once more. They watched as it flew to the right, clattered upon the ground, near the fire in the center of the island.
Dumbledore turned back to Harry, and considered him with acute observation. His brows furrowed, while he stared down at his empty hands.
"Very well. Tell me, what do you intend to do, then? Leave England? Hide away? The world's problems are not going to go away, simply because you choose not to face them. What other choice do you truly have? You will never live, while Lord Voldemort survives. You know this."
"I do have a choice… and it's to live."
Dumbledore gently shook his head. "It will never stop, otherwise. Lord Voldemort will never stop killing, and the only way to defeat him, is for you to partake in the ultimate sacrifice—"
"SHUT UP!" The Headmaster leaned back, as Harry sprang to his feet. His eyes manic with rage. He slipped his wand into his hand, shaking, pointing it at Dumbledore.
"I'm not going to sacrifice myself, you old madman!"
"Then the lives of the innocent are already forfeit. Will you not consider your friends? Ronald? Hermione? Or how about sweet Ginevra?"
Harry twitched. There was a great tension growing within his chest that skewed his concentration. He tried to avert his attention back to the conversation.
"They'll be fine. They're strong." Harry said.
"What of their families? Is it fair to leave them to fend for themselves? To live in secrecy, or to simply die? Your choice is quite selfish, Harry."
Harry's response came out in an irritated hiss "Don't think I can't tell what you're doing… you can't guilt me into offing myself."
As he stared, Dumbledore began to morph in front of Harry, into a much more decrepit version of himself. As if on que, the Headmaster sighed, and slumped closer to the floor, dejected.
"Then we have nothing more to speak of tonight. Let me say one last thing, Harry. Don't forget who you are."
Harry's chest tightened more. He still stood just a few feet away from Dumbledore, wand only half raised. Why would he ever forget who he was? Always… so cryptic.
"How could I ever?" he whispered.
And Harry watched halfheartedly, asDumbledore lifted the blackened hand. Hopeless. Lost. Defeated. Moments went by, without a word from either. When Dumbledore looked back up at Harry; his eyes twinkled once more. For the first time since Harry had woken up in the cave, the old man smiled at him. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"Forgive me, Harry. You were such a sweet child."
Too quick to react, Dumbledore procured another wand, swishing it in the air between the two. His spell swiftly illuminated the cave, creating a streak of silver throughout the hollow cavern. As a white light flooded the space between the two, advancing toward Harry, he felt the pressure in his chest finally burst. In a trance, he swiftly lifted his own wand.
Quickly, effortlessly, the two most dangerous words in the wizarding world escaped his very own lips:
"Avada Kedavra!"
Green met white a foot away from Harry's outstretched arm, and collided with a spiraling crackle. Harry's dark spell ripped through Dumbledore's, effectively expiring the unknown spell. Harry gazed for the last time, as his Headmaster's face expressed pure shock, fear, and then acceptance. The killing curse met Albus Dumbledore directly in the center of his chest, lifting him, and sending his limp body back. The body fell with a loud 'thump' near the edge of the island.
The only sounds left, were of the quiet snapping of fire, and Harry's own panicked breaths.
He stared at the body of Albus Dumbledore, as if expecting him to get up, and brush off his robes. It was over. He had murdered the Great Albus Dumbledore... Headmaster of Hogwarts, and leader of the dark resistance, among his many other roles. After some time, he felt his body relax once again. He looked up, to see the slithering silver lines, once again. And as before, he was interrupted by a familiar voice:
"Dump the body into the lake. We shan't leave a trace of our misgivings."
Harry jumped at the sudden addition of the voice. Indeed, he was familiar with it. Harry turned around with caution, to come face to face with the tall, pale figure of none other than a young Lord Voldemort. He hadn't aged a day, since the Hepzibah Smith memory. His face was just as gaunt, and his hair hung in the exact same angle. Most disturbingly, Harry thought, was the slight look of approval he shot Harry, before moving towards the flame pit. Tom Riddle bent down and picked up the discarded wand of Dumbledore's, holding it above his frame, turning it every which way in the light.
Harry, on the other hand, stood in place, unsure if any sudden movement would mean a curse aimed for him, now that this younger Dark Lord had secured a wand. He noticed that the locket still laid where Dumbledore had been, shortly before he had killed him.
"He was right, you know." Tom Riddle motioned towards the locket, while continuing to observe his new wand. "It's empty now. I have you to thank, for that."
Harry's mind raced to understand what he was saying. Realization struck Harry, in a way that made the idea of sacrificing his life all the more inevitable. This Lord Voldemort was a Horcrux — and somehow... he had set him free.
AN: So... we can assume many things from this first chapter. Although I don't want to give it all away, I do feel that it is important to note, that Harry will not be this... aggressive... throughout the story. I am sure all of you can figure out why he is at this time. He will morph over time though, mentally and perhaps physically. It's the nature of the beast.
As for if this is a slash fic or not, I haven't decided just yet. I feel that Locket TMR should have an influence on Harry's future choices, but I am unsure if he should be a warped love interest, or just a puppet master of sorts... something like that (or both, of course!) Which ever I choose, will undoubtedly change the direction of the story, somewhat.
Will this be a long story? I'm not sure, since this is the first fic that I have ever had full intentions of publishing and completing.
Oh, and of course... note the Deathly Hallows reference above.
Thanks to all in advance, for reading!