Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter. That illustrious title goes to JK Rowling (Lucky Demon :D

A/N - Just something I got from another fic of mine that failed before it got started. This survived though, so I hope you like it.

Harry was eating dinner when it happened. He was listening to Ron and Hermione talk about the test they had had in potions that day when he felt a tickling in the back of his mind. He frowned, trying to focus on the feeling, only to feel it slip away from him. It was still there though, he could feel it! He scowled at his dinner and found it again.

Harry was eating dinner when it happened. He was listening to Ron and Hermione talk about the test they had had in potions that day when he felt a tickling in the back of his mind. He frowned, trying to focus on the feeling, only to feel it slip away from him. It was still there though, he could it! He scowled at his dinner and found it again.

It was… itchy. It couldn't be Voldemort; he had finished Occlumency in sixth year to perfection under another teacher, and learnt the basics of Legilimency on the sly. It felt like nothing to do with that. But… it did feel as though there was a presence there.

His musings were cut off suddenly as the tickle exploded into his brain. He gasped loudly, his fork dropping onto his plate in a way that filled the whole room. He sat there for a second, not believing what was going on, eyes wide and mouth wider.

"What?" a voice came out of his mouth that was not entirely his, and it certainly wasn't his words.

He was seeing two places at once. In one place he saw the Great Hall all looking at him in concern and confusion, in another he could see black robes and white masks, staring up at him in concern and confusion. He looked down at his hands, both visions doing the same, and saw two pairs of hands over lapping each other, his own, slightly small hands with their bitten nails, and long, thin, bony hands that belonged to…

"Voldemort!" he whispered in shock, feeling two mouths move in sync as he said it.

"Potter?" Voldemort replied, Harry feeling his mouth moving without his control.

"What the hell is— oh sweet Merlin on high!" Harry said, focusing on the scene before him.

A bloody mess lay in front of Voldemort, and it was hard to make out whether it had been human. Harry bought his hand to his face and bit into the back of it to keep from throwing up. He turned away and focused on the Great Hall once again. Dumbledore was moving towards him, wand drawn, as were several other teachers. He felt Voldemort snicker through him and he scowled.

"Piss off, get back in your own head." Harry muttered angrily. His hand came up and slapped him on the face. Harry sat there for a second, shocked, then grinned as Voldemort cursed,

"Ah shit!" he burst out laughing, realising that Voldemort had hit his own face at the same time. He clutched at his stomach and rolled off the bench, Voldemort having no choice but to follow him down. He finally got control of himself and wiped his eyes.

"Finished, Potter?" Voldemort snarled.

Harry, grinning, replied. "Nope, I'm gonna have a grin on my face for years after that, Riddle." Voldemort hissed angrily and Harry's grin widened.

"Get rid of that thing," Voldemort snarled to his Death Eaters. "And leave me alone." Of course, with Harry saying exactly the same thing and gesturing at Dumbledore at the same time, it didn't exactly have the right effect on the Great Hall.

"All students are to return to their dormitories."

"Oh why thank you Dumbledore, now I know exactly where to send my Death Eaters." Voldemort said sarcastically.

"Piss off, you can't get into Hogwarts even if the gates were wide open!" Harry said, knowing it was true. He could feel Voldemort's knowledge slipping into his consciousness, he could see plans and memories running through his head. None of it was particularly pretty, but at least he had nothing to offer to Voldemort through the connection. He already knew most of it, and the rest was just petty stuff. Dumbledore had insisted on keeping Harry out of the loop even after he had mastered Occlumency.

"Harry, what is happening?" Dumbledore asked finally once the students had left, leaving the teaches and DA members with Harry, all with their wands drawn.

"Oh let me think, Dumbledore. He's got the most powerful Dark Lord inhabiting his brain and he's extremely annoyed." Voldemort replied acerbically.

"Oh shut up." Harry said offhandedly, much to the surprise of those watching him, who could see the change in inhabitant by the slight change in posture. "What he said sounds about right, except I'm pissed off, not annoyed. Oi piss off you ent going in… ok, guess you are!" Harry winced as Voldemort cackled, finding Harry's first attempt at brewing a potion in Snape's class, which exploded in his face, but left him completely unharmed, though he went around for three days with pink clothing and a tendency to call everyone 'darling'. "What the hell do you want any— what the!"

In Voldemort's end someone had Apparated. According to Voldemort however, that was supposed to be impossible.

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded, drawing his wand. In the Great Hall, Harry followed suit.

"I am your Death. I come to claim you now."

"Hey, wait, two things, one I'm supposed to kill him, and two, killing him isn't going to hurt me is it?" Harry asked in sudden confusion.

"Mild discomfort, Mr Potter. And essentially, it is you who is killing him." the black hood was taken down and Harry saw his grinning face. "Three days time. When you finally sober up that is!" the new Harry grinned and pointed his wand at Voldemort. "Say goodbye Tom."

"Bye Tom…" Harry echoed dully, entirely shocked. The smirk widened and two words were formed. Harry watched the green spell fly towards him and as a single entity both he and Voldemort raised their hands to their faces and tried to thrust themselves into the other body.

Harry smirked and took a step forward, dusting off his hands and poking his boot at the dead figure of Voldemort.

"You have to admit," he said, apparently to the body. "You weren't exactly the epitome of handsome were you?"

Within his mind there came a mumbled, grudging reply. Harry grinned wider and took Voldemort's wand out of the ridged hand. "Happy now? Shall we return?"

Somewhere, not so deep in his mind, came a more empathic reply. Harry laughed as he raised both wands, vanishing from sight or sound.

Back in Hogwarts Harry opened his eyes to see shocked and worried faces.

"He's dead," he said in quiet shock.

'Not quite, Harry Potter. I have great plans for you.' came a voice, from not too far within his mind.