War Crimes

"Clear your head, Potter!" Snape brought his wand scything down. "Legillimens!" After a moment he lowered his wand and slammed a hand down on the table. "Well, Potter, you are clearly incapable of clearing your head."

Harry was busy clutching said object, which now rang like a gong after a quick rummage through by his least favorite Professor (though that was a narrow competition when Trelawny was another option). "I've been telling you that for weeks!"

"And I was hoping it was just your usual stupidity. But it genuinely seems that you are unable to do this. So we're going to try something else."

"You mean there was a way that didn't involve raping my mind?"

"No. There are cludges. There are ways to fake a shield, but unlike the method I was trying to teach you, these aren't self-perpetuating. You're going to have to maintain it yourself."

"Well, anything'd better than this."

"Alright. What you need to do is think of something. It doesn't really matter what, but it needs to be something simple enough that you can just repeat it in your head over and over constantly. For this to be effective, it has to be something that no one will want to put up with long enough to go through your head—let's be clear, this doesn't keep anyone out, it just makes it so unpleasant that no one wants to stay."

"I've got it."

"I mean it. This has to be simple and horrifying."

"I've got it, I said."

"You're sure? Because it'll be another round of me going through miserable memories if you're wrong."

"I've. Got. It. Seriously. Uncle Vernon hit Dudley for this one."

"Fine. On your head, be it. Legillimens." After a moment or two, Snape lowered his wand and gave Harry a slow clap. "Well done, Potter. That is truly evil. I approve."

"Please don't. That creeps me out."

"That makes two of us. Now, I'm going to test you randomly to make sure you're keeping this up. Now get out. Oh, and Potter?" Harry froze at the doorway. "When learning, the teacher goes after the worst memories because those are the ones the student is most desperate to protect. I didn't enjoy hearing your mother beg for your life or seeing one of my promising students murdered. That's all."

Harry fled.

SsS

Voldemort sat at the dinner table, humming quietly to himself. He didn't need to eat, but his presence forced Lucius from the head of his own table, which was satisfying. Besides, he liked watching how much trouble his people had managing to eat with terror clogging their throats. It was the simple pleasures in life that made immortality worth it. That and the certainty of revenge. He'd get Potter to find the prophecy soon. He couldn't keep it up forever.

The Dark Lord froze when he realized it had happened again and snarled a curse. One of his Death Eaters jumped in shock at the outburst and it was the work of a moment to fling the torture curse at the man, letting the screams drown out his own head for a moment until it was just quiet gibbering that didn't work anymore.

"No, no, no!"

SsS

Harry was concerned when Snape assigned him a detention for remedial Potions. He'd been maintaining his shield just fine and Snape had even (shockingly) given him points for "successfully completing an assignment for me this one time"—he'd also taken twice as many points, which seemed to make both of them feel better, but still . . . All this meant that he wasn't sure what the greasy bastard wanted and was feeling a little on edge.

"Potter, good. This is going to be quick, since I have better things to do with my evening than not teach you. I just got an . . . informative report from contacts in a certain organization we'd rather remain quiet. I think it's working. But I'm going to give you a bit of advice. Please, for once in your life, take it. Don't tell anyone what you're doing! There's a real risk that they'd bring you up on charges!"

"When the victim is Voldemort?"

"These are Wizards, Potter. Logic isn't required here. Just take the damn advice and stay mum."

"Do you know, that might be the first advice you've given me that wasn't accompanied by an insult? Hermione was teaching me about Pavlov. Alright, Professor Snape, I'll take your advice." Harry trotted from the room, leaving Snape wondering why that name sounded familiar and if he'd just been insulted.

SsS

Voldemort looked in the mirror. It had been days since he'd had a good night's rest. This was torture. If it went on, he was going to go insane. This had to stop! He went downstairs and found the fireplace blazing. He threw a Death Eater into the flames and listened to the crackle of burning flesh, but it didn't work anymore. The screams weren't enough. He'd tried destroying his eardrums, but it was inside his head!

He conjured a sword and rammed it into his chest. For a blessed instant, he was free. Then his tethers caught hold and he found that he was lying on the floor of the parlor in a pool of blood, still trapped with the torment in his skull and now with a sword in his chest in the bargain. In his skull! That was it! He conjured a mallet and set about trying to open his cranium to get it out of his head.

SsS

To say that Albus Dumbledore was surprised to see a harried-looking Lucius Malfoy tumbling from his floo was something of an understatement. But despite his setbacks, he was still Albus fucking Dumbledore. "Hello, Lucius. What brings you to my office?" He didn't add you miserable tosser, because that would be rude.

"You've got to help me, Professor!" Malfoy was nearly in tears. "This has gone all wrong! I only just managed to get away. I don't know how long I have before he comes to and realizes I'm gone. Please, for the love of Merlin, I need your help!"

Dumbledore's face remained stony, but inside he was more than a little confused. None of the few political movements he could still make were likely to get this kind of reaction from the normally cold man who was now covered in soot. "Do tell."

"I admit nothing, you understand. I was forced at wand-point to allow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named into my home. It's been horrible! The man is insane. He keeps killing people and screaming about it being in his head; if anyone accidentally chimes in, he takes it out on everyone. Thank Merlin Narcissa is visiting family in Nice. Please, I'm begging you: make this stop!"

"Well, then, Lucius, I'd love to be like you and let you hang for a while, or just abandon you to your fate. But the fact is that I'm Albus Dumbledore and that means I do that which is right, not which is easy. I'll thank you to remember this the next time you want to oppose me."

"Screw that! I'm retiring from politics for a while. A nice vacation on the coast of the Mediterranean is just what I need."

"Very well then. By the way, what is it that's been making Voldemort go insane?"

SsS

Harry was shocked to see Professor Dumbledore walking down the hall, eyes twinkling but mouth set in stone. "Hello, Professor!"

"Sorry, my boy. I can't talk now, I have a raid to launch."

As they passed, Harry heard the man singing softly to himself. "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves . . ."

(A/N John)

So, I'm going to lose a bit of my manliness-cred, but this came from a discussion of how a character in a Jeaniene Frost novel manages to keep the collection of vampires around her from reading her mind by singing obnoxious songs in her head.

(A/N 2 John)

Spoon was the one who suggested that this be done to Voldemort during Fifth Year.

(A/N 3 John)

Then things spiraled pretty quickly into insanity. I decided at the last minute that I wanted to be vague about exactly what was happening up until the end because as I've noted elsewhere, I can only do a big reveal once, so I like to get as much out of it as I can.