And now for something completely different.
Harry remembered sitting in his kitchen sipping a cup of tea, and the next thing he knew, he awoke in a puddle of blood; his whole body aching, and proceeded to retch all over his best friend's new carpet.
Through the tears and blood that were streaking his face, he could blearily make out the form of Bill, a bible lying open in one hand and the other outstretched towards him, a rosary wrapped around the palm. He could also see three long claw marks racking down the side of his face, blood still pouring freely from them.
"Is it gone?" Someone asked behind Harry as Bill fell to his knees. Harry recognized it as Ron, much to his relief.
"I think so." Bill said warily, eyeing Harry.
Harry raised his hand, for what reason he was unsure, and froze at the sight of it. It was covered in small cracks and white spider veins, his nails longer and jagged and covered in a thick, black liquid. The cracks and veins continued down his chest and into the waistline of his pants. No, he realized, he was not wearing any pants; the thick black liquid covering his legs was what he had just thrown up.
Harry screamed.
"Hello, I'm Harry Potter. I'm twenty-two years old, and two weeks ago I was exorcised." Harry said, fidgeting in his chair as all eyes in the room settled on him. Doctor Lupin nodded encouragingly, silently urging him to continue. Harry took a deep breath.
"It's- well, his I guess- name was Voldemort. He's pretty popular in the occult scene these days, offering immortality to those who pledge allegiance to him- which is bullshit, by the way. I don't think anyone has actually gotten that. He also, um, eats hearts. I can still taste it in the back of my throat sometimes."
"I understand." A blond perked up, straightening in his seat. "Draco Malfoy, possessed by Lilith. I was about to swallow my newborn nephew whole when my parents busted in. I don't think I'll ever get the taste of baby lotion out of my mouth."
"I ate my mother's cat." The blonde sitting across from Harry said, an almost dreamy look on her face. This disturbed Harry greatly. "It tasted rather peculiar."
"Luna, please. Be a bit more sympathetic." Doctor Lupin chided, giving Harry a smile. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. Everyone here has done things they're not proud of. No one will judge."
Dinner with the Weasleys was tense. Harry just stared down at his plate, pushing the peas around and silently observing everyone around him.
Bill's face was still bandaged up, and Ginny kept glancing at him, only to look away when she noticed him looking. Neither Ron or Hermione would look at him. Molly seemed to be the only one attempting to put up a polite front, but Harry could see the strain in her smile.
He didn't want to think about what he might have done to make them not want to look him in eyes anymore.
He left before dessert was even served.
"You don't have a tattoo."
Harry froze in putting on his coat, turning to the man standing beside him. Harry recognized him from the circle, Neville, if he remembers right. "What?"
"Your neck." The Neville said, motioning to his own neck. Harry was surprised to see a small speck of ink there, in the shape of what appeared to be a rose. "If you had participated in a summoning ritual, you would have a mark on your neck. It's kind of a trademark."
"I never participated in any rituals." Harry spat, shoving his arms into his coat. "I never summoned this…thing to me."
Neville held his hands up. "Relax, I believe you. It's just that no one has ever come here without one. All of us are self-inflicted, so to speak."
"Guess I'm just special then." Harry muttered, turning to leave before Neville could say anything more.
Harry dreamed of terrible, terrible things. Things that made his stomach clench and bile rise in his throat. Things that made him crave the feeling of flesh splitting beneath his too long nails, the feeling of warm blood spilling on his arms and chin, the taste of a freshly ripped heart, still warm and beating as he took the first bite.
Harry wasn't half as surprised as he should have been when, while cleaning up his apartment after Voldemort's escapades, he pulled back the curtain to reveal a boa, about the length of his arm.
"Your name is Nagini." Harry stated to the snake in his window, who flicked her tongue out at him and continued to bask in the windowsill. He knew that snakes were a symbol of many demons, but to think that his actually bought (or stole) one was very disturbing.
He was even more disturbed that he remembered her name.
"I don't remember anything." Harry stated, coloring in a picture of a lovely garden snake. He figured he should get used to them, seeing as he now owned one and 'I was possessed' was not a good enough excuse to return it.
Neville snorted, not bothering to look up from his macaroon art. "Lucky."
Harry shook his head. "No, not at all. I can't figure out why everyone in my life suddenly seems to be avoiding me like the plague."
Doctor Lupin frowned, scribbling something down on his notebook. "Have you tried asking them?"
"I can't even get any of them to look at me, much less speak to me. Only the twins seem to still like me, though Bill said he forgave me for the scar. Said it made him look manly and rugged. His fiancé agrees."
Harry dreamed of terrible, wonderful things. Of himself before a mirror, his hands roaming over his tanned flesh in appreciation, scratching lightly along his smooth stomach and licking his lips in appreciation. Of his hand exploring places he had never dreamed of while the other supported him against the mirror, his mouth on the mirror giving it an opened mouth kiss. Of admiring himself in the mirror, his fingers still within him and covered in sweat and his own fluids, thinking of how lovely he was, all stretched out gasping in pleasure.
"...So that's why you haven't been coming to see me." Sirius said slowly, his head tilted and his expression completely neutral.
Harry nodded, hanging his head low. It felt shameful, admitting that something like that had happened to him. "I'm sorry. I really am. I have no idea how it happened."
"I understand. My brother got possessed when he was younger." Sirius said, resting his hand atop Harry's. The guard in the corner of the room eyed their joined hands before straightening up and staring ahead once more.
"Oh." Harry said dumbly. "You have a brother?"
"Had. He's dead now."
"I thought all of us here were cured." Harry shrieked, watching as what was once Draco jerked against the straps of the chair. His skin was now a sickening shade of green and his teeth were like razors, biting holes in his own lips.
"Exorcisms are only a temporary cure." Doctor Lupin explained, resting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "It drives the demon away but can't keep them from getting back in. This is meant to help you control it when it eventually comes back."
"What if it never comes back?" Harry asked, watching in horrified fascination as Draco arched off the chair, nearly bending himself in half.
"It always returns. Maybe in a year, maybe ten. But it will. And when it does, I want you all to be ready to fight it."
"Is there any way to permanently stop it?"
"Of course. Though most people prefer to live."
"Can you tell me about your brother?" Harry asked, watching as Sirius scarfed down the casserole he had been brought. Prison food wasn't that great.
Sirius shrugged, setting his spoon down. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything. Everything."
Sirius hummed, nodding as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, his name was Regulus and he was a year younger than me. Looked like me, but a lot more like a nerd. We got along well enough, we were brothers after all. Drifted a little further when I became friends with James, but that's just how life is."
"You don't have to tell me if it upsets you." Harry said, noticing how Sirius's eyes had watered at the mention of his father.
"No. I want to; you need to hear this." Sirius shook his head, straightening in his chair. "Regulus got possessed sometime during the summer, when I was away with James. At least I think so. I came back and he was just...different. I blamed it on being alone with my parents for two months but…Anyway, he started acting very differently after that. Staying out late on school nights, ignoring our parents whenever they spoke to him, bringing strange men and women home-honestly, he was acting a lot like me.
"I guess they thought I was being a bad influence or something because that night we got into a fight. A bad one. Mother slapped me and told me to never come back. Left a nasty bruise too, she had a mean backhand. Reggie came in when I was packing and seemed honestly distraught that I was crying. He laid his hand on mine and told me not to worry about them anymore, he would take care of it, I didn't have to leave. But, God, I really did want to leave that awful household.
"He kissed my cheek and left. Then the screaming started." Sirius paused, looking more distraught than Harry could remember seeing him, and took a gulp of his water. "God, those screams. I still get nightmares about them. Never, even in this place, have I heard such fear and horror in a scream. I didn't stick around after that. I climbed out the window and ran to the neighbors. Banged on the door until they opened it and demanded they call the cops."
Sirius put his head in his hands, his shoulder shaking slightly. "I shouldn't have done that. He was coming out of the house when the cops pulled up, calling for me. He was covered in blood but he just looked so happy, calling my name in that…that voice. Oh, that voice. It was so...wrong, Harry, so wrong. They shot him...they shot him a lot...and he still just stood there, completely unfazed, still alive. An exorcist was called and when that thing was gone from in him, he just-"
Sirius cut himself off, grabbing the spoon and shoving another mouthful of casserole into his mouth, chewing as tears streamed down his face. Harry got up from his chair and walked to the other side of the table, wrapping his arms around Sirius's shoulders.
"I'm sorry about that. It must have been so terrible for you to witness." Harry said soothingly, stroking his godfather's hair. "Did you ever learn which demon it was? Doctor Lupin says learning about the thing that terrifies you tends to give you closure."
"Yeah, that's what my psychiatrist said too." Sirius sniffed. "Some French fucker named Voldemort or something like that."
Harry tensed, but didn't stop stroking his godfather's hair until the guard told him their time was up for today.
"Is it possible for a demon to possess someone to get closer to someone else?" Harry asked one day, pulling Doctor Lupin to the side before he could enter his office.
"Well, it's not unheard of." Doctor Lupin said, a bit surprised by the question. "They possess people for many reasons and, while it's not one of the more popular reasons, it most certainly is one. Why? Do you have a theory on why you were possessed?"
Harry shifted. "My Godfather, his brother…. His brother was possessed by the same demon. And I was thinking, it can't be a coincidence, so maybe it's trying to use me to get to him, since I'm around him?"
Doctor Lupin hummed. "It is possible. Is there no other reason you can think of?"
Harry paused, thinking of those dream, of fingering himself in front of mirrors and kissing his reflection. He shook them away.
"No. I can't really think of another reason."
"I need you to understand that none of what happened was my fault." Harry stated at yet another awkward dinner, startling everyone. "But, I also want you to understand that I get it. It might not have been me but to you, it was still me. It was still me who did all those things that I don't even remember doing."
"You don't remember?" Ron asked loudly, standing and slamming his hands on the table in anger. "You honestly don't remember any of the shit you put us through? You don't remember breaking Percy's ribs or making Ginny cry when she caught you in bed with another man? Oh, but you're going to apologize anyway? How noble of you."
"The last thing I remember," Harry said through gritted teeth, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. "Is sipping a cup of tea in my kitchen. The next thing I know, I'm vomiting all over your carpet while Bill looks like a wolverine had gotten ahold of his face. Maybe if any of you would talk to me instead of pretending I'm not here I would know what I did to deserve it."
Silence descended upon the table, no one daring to breathe. Harry snorted, standing to leave. "Figures."
Harry gave a shaky laugh as he drove down the empty street, realizing that his fingernails had grown several inches in the last ten minutes.
"Oh, it's you," Petunia spat out, eyeing Harry with a look of pure disgust on her face.
"Aunt Petunia," Harry said calmly, giving her a slight nod. "May I come in?"
He could tell she was reluctant, but agreed nonetheless, ushering him into the house before any neighbors could see him. He couldn't help but notice the black spot beneath her collar as she did so, a dark contrast to her pale skin. He felt only slightly guilty for hoping she had somehow bruised herself while spying on the neighbors.
"What do you want?" She hissed once the door was locked, crossing her arms over her chest. "And make it quick. Vernon will be home in an hour and you know how he feels about your kind being in his home."
Ah, good old racist Uncle Vernon. Harry did not miss him one bit.
"I came to apologize if I did anything weird in the last few months." Harry said awkwardly, realizing how strange that sounded, even to his own ears.
Petunia snorted. "None of your freakishness has been infesting this house recently. Well, until now."
Harry opened his mouth to retort, only to jump back when the door suddenly opened, hitting Petunia.
"Sorry, Mum!" Dudley said as he entered, the smile on his face dropping when he spotted Harry standing in the hallway. "What's he doing here?"
"He was just leaving, my Diddykins. Weren't you?"
Harry sighed in defeat, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. "Yeah, yeah, I can tell when I'm not wanted. Kinda sucks, I thought we were finally getting along, Dudley."
Dudley look slightly confused while Petunia's face scrunched up as though she had bit into a lemon. "Out! Now!"
"You will eventually have to have a go, you know." Luna piped up from beside him, not looking up from her braiding as Dean thrashed against the bindings, nearly snapping his spinal cord in half.
"I'm not letting that happen again." Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm not strong enough to fight it either."
"You're stronger than you think." Luna said simply, finishing the final braid on the rope before offering to put it on Harry's wrist. He obliged, offering his wrist and wondering when he ever gave the impression that he was strong.
Harry had been avoiding seeing himself in mirrors, but now he stood before the one within his bedroom, observing every new scar and scratch.
There were four white lines on each side of his hips and four running diagonally across his chest, fading scars from when Voldemort would run his claws down Harry's body, cutting too deeply. There were smaller scars running along his arms and legs and a large skull in the center of his chest, a snake extending from the bottom and looping into a figure eight, its head resting just above Harry's navel.
He traced the edges of the snake's body absently, watching himself in the mirror with curiously. He wondered what Voldemort felt when he had gazed at Harry in the mirror, what about him he had found so enticing to do all those things to him.
He quickly jerked his hand away when he realized he was getting hard, feeling his face heat up with shame. It was definitely time for bed.
Harry had experienced sleep paralysis before, when he was still living underneath the stairs in his aunt's house and long before Voldemort had taken possession of his body. When he jerked awake in the middle of the night, finding that he couldn't move his arms, he kept his eyes shut tight, knowing that opening them would bring back the creatures from his nightmares.
He tried to calm himself, only to freeze at the feeling of cool air wafting over his face and only his face, slow and steady as breathing. His own breathing began to increase when he realized his legs were completely mobile, the only part of him pinned to the bed being his torso and arms.
Harry opened his eyes.
And his scream caught in his throat.
Red eyes, slitted like snakes and glowing like the fires of hell, were inches away from Harry's face. The skin smooth and tanned, the rich warm color broken by the white veins that traversed it. A perfect replica of Harry was before him, his hips resting atop Harry's own and his hands keeping Harry's own pinned to the bed.
He did nothing at first, merely stared down at Harry, unblinking. Then, after what felt like hours, a grin broke across his face, stretching too far and wide, gray gums being exposed along with unnaturally sharp teeth. His other self leaned closer, his tongue coming out to lick along the shell of Harry's ear. Their hips ground together pleasantly at the action and Harry sucked in a breath, the creature above him giving a low groan of pleasure.
"Soon. Very soon. You will be mine again." he whispered, biting Harry's earlobe before vanishing.
"He was on me last night." Harry breathed out, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. "I woke up and he was just...there. Sitting on me. Watching me. Holding me down. Is that normal?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "No, not really."
"Figures."
"But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
Harry's phone rang one afternoon while he was cleaning under the cabinets. While he was grateful that Voldemort wasn't living on a diet of human flesh alone, it wouldn't have killed the demon to clean up after himself.
He answered without even looking at the number. "Hello?"
"Harry." Hermione's voice said sternly, causing him to sit up straighter and almost hit his head on the cabinet. "You want to know what happened while you were possessed. I'll tell you. Meet me at The Leaky Cauldron at six. Be prepared to buy me dinner." With that, she hung up.
Harry stared at the phone in his hand in shock, then looked at the clock and cursed. He had only an hour to get ready, and The Leaky Cauldron was at least thirty minutes away by foot.
"I did such terrible things to everyone." Harry said, his head in his hands. "I'm such a despicable human being."
"It wasn't you, Harry." Doctor Lupin said as Draco reached over to take his hand in comfort, forcing him to remove them from his face and face the reality he would rather avoid. "You had no control over yourself at the time, you were acting under the influence of a demon."
"That doesn't really excuse it, now does it? It was still my body." Harry sighed, looking down at his and Draco's connected hands. It was nice, having someone hold his hand in such a distressing moment. "I know I need to separate myself from the event, but…. but I just can't."
"Would you like to share what you were told?" Doctor Lupin asked, writing something down on his notepad.
"I…it all started when Ginny -my then girlfriend- walked in on me with another man and woman in bed. Actually, I think it was before then, because I had apparently been blowing them off for weeks and partying it up on twitter. And it only got worse from there."
Harry took another deep breath. "I broke up my best friend's marriage. By sleeping with both of them. And slept with the twins. And then threw one of my adoptive brothers against the wall and broke three of ribs. Then I kinda dropped off their radar until they saw me a few days before the exorcism, naked and covered in blood and scaling the side of building with my bare hands. I guess that's when they all realized I wasn't quite myself anymore."
"Do you remember what it was like climbing buildings?" Luna interrupted, earning a disapproving look from Doctor Lupin. "It was rather fun, feeling the wind in my hair."
"Luna-" Doctor Lupin began, but Harry cut him off.
"It's alright. I think I do, kind of. I remember feeling the wind whipping through my hair and how free it felt, but that's kind of it. And I'm glad for that. It makes what I've done kind of bearable."
"What do you mean they're letting him out on bail?" Harry hissed, his hands clenched into fists as he glared down the police officer. The officer looked less than intimidated, flipping through the file before him.
"That's what it says. I was told to inform you, as you could potentially be in danger if he comes to finish what he started," The officer droned, flipping through a file on his desk.
"You just let mass murders run free yet keep an innocent man convicted for trying to defend himself?" Harry spat, anger rising deep within him. Something within him purred at the prospect.
"We still let you walk around, don't we?" The officer responded coldly, causing Harry to jerk back in shock.
He knew that the officers had been informed of his situation and that most people didn't take possession as an excuse for illegal activities. After all, you had to invoke the demon with a ritual and willingly let it in. It was just his luck that he hadn't done either of those.
"I never killed anyone when I was possessed." Harry said, turning to leave the room.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid."
"I'm not evil. I'm not evil. I'm not evil. I'm not evil." Harry sobbed as he rocked back and forth, filing his nails down until they began to bleed, trying to ignore the dark laughter in his head.
"Harry?"
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a familiar voice, spinning around to find himself face to face with Luna. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun and she was wearing the pet store's uniform.
"Luna, what a surprise!" Harry said, a bit nervous. He had never encountered anyone outside of the support group in the streets and was unsure of how to react.
"Yes, it is. I didn't know you had a pet? Most get eaten the first chance the demon gets and you hadn't mentioned getting a new one." She said in her usual dreamy way, making Harry glance around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.
Thankfully, they were alone.
"Um, yeah, I didn't have a pet before. But now I do. Her name's Nagini and she's a snake."
"Oh, that's lovely. I heard if you hang their skin from the rafters, it will protect your home from fires." She hummed, earning a strange look from Harry. "Do you need to buy her some food? I recommend purchasing a breeding pair of mice and raising them as her food source. It's much cheaper in the long run and you can feed her live prey that way."
"I hadn't thought of that." Harry confessed. "That sounds like a great idea."
As he watched her gather up some mice, unsure of how she was determining their gender, a thought popped into his head.
"Luna, if you don't mind me asking, how did you get this job? I know finding work for people with our…. record can be difficult."
"The owner doesn't mind the stigma that comes attached with employing someone like us. He believes we all deserve a chance, no matter their past."
He was a bit relieved to hear that. He had been fired from his old job and the only thing keeping him from starving on the street was his inheritance, something he loathed to use.
"Besides, my abilities are very useful here."
Harry looked at her, confused, until he saw the slit of her pupils and the length of her nails, gently cradling a terrified mouse with her palms, her veins more prominent than they should have been.
He snatched up the box of mice, slammed his money on the counter, and ran from the shop.
"Luna…is odd." Doctor Lupin said, static crackling as Harry fiddled with his keys, trying to get his door open. "But I assure you she means no harm. Perhaps you were seeing things?"
"Wouldn't be the first time." Harry muttered to himself, finally managing to get the key in the lock and opening the door, only to freeze, his direction turning to the end of the hallway. He could have sworn he had seen someone standing there a moment ago.
Perhaps he was seeing things after all.
He wasn't crazy. He knew he wasn't, or maybe he was, since crazy people weren't aware they were crazy.
He was seeing things. A man, out of the corner of his eyes. Always the same distance away from him, always vanishing when he turned to get a proper look at him.
He hoped that perhaps it was one of those crazy people who had taken to worshiping the demon within him, hoping to catch a glimpse of it if they hung around Harry. After all, if it truly was one of them, they wouldn't dare harm the host of their obsession, fearing the demon's wrath should he actually be attached to them.
He was a bit horrified to find himself taking comfort in that thought.
He received a text as he finished his dinner.
Come to my office. I have something you need to see.
Harry thought it a bit odd, as Doctor Lupin rarely ever texted and it was nearly dark out, but he trusted his doctor not to lead him astray.
He placed his plate in the sink and grabbed his keys, wishing Nagini a good night as he left the house.
Doctor Lupin's office was dark when he arrived, but his door was unlocked allowing Harry to enter. It was eerie within, the only light streaming in through the open windows from the streetlamps outside. He was a bit nervous, the whole situation giving him horror movie vibes, only calmed when he saw the outline of Doctor Lupin in his chair.
"Um, the door was open, so I let myself in." No response. "You said you had something I needed to see? Is it about Voldemort?"
He heard it then. A small whimper coming from his left. He looked down, a bit horrified to see Doctor Lupin laying on the floor, tied up, surrounded by a small puddle of blood. His head snapped back to the chair, just in time for it to swivel towards him.
A man sat there, short and shout, his face resembling a rat more than an actual man. Harry felt himself begin to shake, his breathing picking up at the sight of him. He could also feel Voldemort stirring deep within him, curious to his sudden distress, but quickly tried to calm himself, to snuff the demon out before it could attempt to take control.
"Harry. You've grown up nicely. You look just like your father." Wormtail said, tilting his head to observe him.
Harry gulped. "So I've been told. How did you find this place?"
"Oh, it was easy," Wormtail said, standing from the desk and causing Harry to tense at the sight of the knife in his pocket. "All I needed was a phone book to get your address and then I just watched. It's amazing how much people reveal when they think they're being unobserved."
"Heh, yeah, I bet," Harry said, taking a step back when the man stood.
"Oh yes, so much," Wormtail hummed, stepping from behind the desk and towards Harry. Harry took a step to the side, not wanting to be close to the other man. "For instance, did you know that you have the strangest habit of twitching exactly seven times an hour?"
Another step forward, another step to the side.
"Really? Huh, I've never noticed." Harry said nervously, feeling tension rising within him, alongside something else. Something much more dangerous.
Another step.
"Oh yes, it's quite interesting to watch. And did you know that sometimes, when you're all nice and tucked into your bed, you raise your hands up to the ceiling and start whispering to yourself. I wish I could get closer to hear, but you're smart enough to lock your door."
"Fascinating." Harry said, clenching his fists behind his back. He could feel his nails digging into his flesh, long and sharp. "Is there any particular reason you decided to come here and knock out my psychiatrist, or is this something you do for fun?"
"Oh, I've come to finish the job. Though, I think this time, I won't give you the chance to survive."
Harry didn't have time to react, feeling himself seized by Wormtail and suddenly there was glass all around him and he was falling.
Everything around him felt like it was happening in slow motion. The sight of the glass around him as he began to fall, the sickening grin of victory that was stretching across Wormtail's face as he watched him, the screams of terror from the people below him.
He wondered, for a moment, what it would feel like to die. To hit the concrete below, to have himself as nothing more than another stain on the city's streets, nothing more than a puddle of blood and gore. Would it hurt or would he feel nothing at all? Would it be quick or would he lay there bleeding out while onlookers gawked? He wondered if he would finally get to see his parents once more.
He felt it then, an insistent clawing against his chest, a pressure against the back of his mind, an angry howl of a demon not willing to let his host go, urging Harry to let go, let it take control, let him free once more, let him save them.
And he did.
Harry was no longer himself when he landed on the car parked below.
It was strange, seeing himself lying on top of someone's ruined Lexus, bent and broken like an unwanted toy. He knew he should be in pain, knew that the angle his spin and limbs were arranged in wasn't natural, knew that the screams for help around him should be louder and not as muted as they were. It was peaceful, in a way, this distorted version of the world around him.
It was more odd to watch his limbs twitch and move, stretching up and popping themselves back into place, to hear bones and sinew snapping back to where they belonged, his body jerking and righting the damage that had been done to him.
He could hear someone scream when his body shot up, his head lolling to the side before snapping upwards suddenly, the sickening crack of his vertebrae snapping themselves back into place, rolling around to be sure of its function. There was a grin on his face, as wide and unnatural as it had been that night a month ago, his eyes the color of blood as they gazed into the window above.
He watched, a bit mystified, as his body leapt, launching itself upwards and towards the buildings above, digging his nails into the bricks as though they were made of putty. He could feel himself –feel Voldemort - smirk, crawling his way up the building with ease and looking within the window.
Wormtail's back was to him, digging through a filing cabinet, tossing papers around as he searched for something. Doctor Lupin rested against the bookcase, facing them, a large bleeding gash on the side of his face.
Lupin's eyes widened at the sight of him, a small noise of surprise escaping him as his body slid into the room, not making a sound as he dropped to the floor. He got up on all fours, crawling slowly to Wormtail, who was unaware of his presence, letting out a triumphant sound when he found whatever he was searching for.
He stopped once he was behind the man, rising up in a fashion that was most unnatural, his joints popping and cracking loudly as he did so. Wormtail seemed to take no notice of this. Harry found himself liking that, as did Voldemort. It had been so long since the demon had truly struck fear into someone's heart.
He turned and froze, dropping the papers in shock at the sight of Harry before him, a wide grin still stretched across his face. "H-How did you-"
He let out a horrified gasp when Harry's head tilted, laying completely parallel to his shoulders. Wormtail quickly scrambled backwards, hitting the cabinet and causing it to rattle loudly. He saw Wormtail's eyes dart down his body, taking in the sight of the white veins that now transverse his neck and face, the white coloring that was smudged over his eyes and lips, the hellfire that now burned within his eyes.
Voldemort was suddenly in front of him, standing too quick for the human eye to comprehend, his face pressed close to Wormtail's own. The man sucked in a breath, terror radiating from his being. Oh, how he had missed this, the fear he could cause with one look, the terror of seeing him in control. It was intoxicating.
"You tried to kill my host." Voldemort hissed, his voice overlaid over Harry's own, the sounds not quite mixing the way they should. "You tried to kill me."
Voldemort leaned closer, his head tilting much like a bird having spotted its next meal, like a cat who had spotted a mouse sitting out in the open, like a predator who knew it had its prey cornered and unable to run. Like an animal much higher on the food chain, relishing in the fear ite presence was causing.
"Your fear smells delicious." Voldemort's tongue came out to lick Wormtail's plump neck, his nostrils flaring at the smell and taste of his fear. Harry was surprised that he could taste it as well, thick and heavy in the back of mouth, sweet but not overbearing. He wanted to taste more.
"I will give you a chance to change our minds before I rip your heart out of your chest."
"P-please. Mercy, dear child." Wormtail whimpered, only to gasp when Voldemort closed his hand around his throat.
"Mercy, you ask of me? Tell me, pitiful man, what have you done to deserve mercy from me? Have you shown mercy in the past, to warrant it being granted unto you?" He leaned in, his face inches from Wormtail's. "Did you show mercy for James Potter, when you shot him in the stomach, a slow and painful death you forced on him, just to see him die before you? Did you show mercy when you strangled Lily Potter, as she cried and begged you to stop, as you took your pleasure from her even as she died?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping low as lips brushing against Wormtail's ear. "Tell me, did you show mercy for the infant laying in the crib, the one you attempted to scalp before his godfather had come in, stopping you before you could finish your deed?"
Wormtail was shaking beneath him, whimpering in fear as the hand around his throat tightened, nails piercing his delicate skin and blood flowing freely.
"There is no room for mercy in his heart for someone like you."
It had been delicious, the taste of a fresh heart, still warm and beating in his hands. The tastes of copper and blood and life, sliding down his throat and dripping down his chin, as rich and sweet as he had remembered, the comfort of a craving he had not realized he had finally been stated, a hunger finally fulfilled. He had missed this feeling.
His feast was interrupted by the door behind him banged open, the sound of several people entering breaking the silence that room had fallen into.
"Oh, God." Was the horrified whisper from one, ending in choked scream when Voldemort's neck rotated towards him, his body staying in his position and causing several loud cracks.
"There is no God in this place." He growled out, his body finally turning as well, limbs popping as he contorted himself into a standing position. "There is only your death."
He flexed his fingers, taking in the sight of the men. Police officers, all of them with their guns trained on his vessel's form, only five in total. He could take them. It wasn't like his vessel would die; take damage, oh most certainly, but immortality was the reward for surrender.
He licked his lips, taking a step towards them, watching.
"Harry!"
His head jerked in the direction of his long forgotten doctor, the man still bound and leaning against the bookcase.
"Harry, I need to you to focus, okay? I….I need you to….to try and gain control again. I know you've never done it before, but you, you're very smart and brave and strong. I know you can, if you try." Doctor Lupin licked his lips nervously. "Please, you have to try."
He found himself pausing, something in him hesitating, pushing back against the thought of killing the officers. What would be the point of it; Wormtail was dead, his heart comfortably filling up his stomach. Another meal, more to sate his appetite, something that had gone neglected over the past months. Chaos, death, destruction. It was his nature; it was what he wanted to do, what his kind was made to do.
But, he still found himself unable to move, rooted to his spot on the floor, teeth bared as he glared at the officers. Why was he so hesitant? Why couldn't he move?
He shrieked, feeling himself shaking, his limbs fighting to keep themselves where they were. He wanted to move. He wanted to kill them. He wanted to see the light leaving their eyes, wanted to feel their flesh in his stomach.
Voldemort dropped to his knees.
And Harry felt himself smile before everything went black.
Harry knew this wasn't over. It never really was. But as he sat in his apartment, surrounded by boxes and bright sunlight, he felt much better than he had in months.
Wormtail was dead, hopefully rotting in the pits of hell where he belonged, and the Weasleys were talking with him once more, seeming to have forgiven him for the transgressions the demon within him had caused.
He knew they thought the demon long gone, but he could still feel him beneath his skin, twisting and turning within him, ready to slip free if Harry let his guard down for even a moment. He could only be pacified for so long.
He heaved a sigh, preparing to stand and finish packing, when something on the corner of his rug caught his attention. Harry frowned. Had he had this rug before Voldemort arrived or had the demon stolen it?
He didn't care which it was, it was here now. He grasped the corner of it, pulling it back with the intention of packing it away, only nearly dropping it in shock at what lay beneath.
A pentagram laid beneath, stark and black against the wooden boards of his floor, a snake curled within a skull lying dead center. A summoning circle for the creature that still resided within him. And, in the center, an envelope, sealed and taped to the top of the skull.
His hands shook as he grabbed it, ripping open the top flap and pulling the contents free. They were photographs from an older camera, he realized, and they were all of him and Dudley.
He paused on one in particular, of them together at a bar. Harry was laughing at something Dudley had said, and Dudley. Dudley was gazing at Harry, a strange, almost lustful look in his...his bright, red eyes.
His palms were beginning the bleed as he crushed the pictures, his elongating nails digging into the delicate flesh of his shaking hand.
He could remember, months before he had woken up on his apartment floor, months before he had blacked out for the first time, of Dudley coming to his apartment, apologies spilling from his mouth almost desperately. He could remember he had forgiven him, had let him into his apartment, of how they had talked for hours afterwards, Dudley apologetic and Harry more understanding than he should have been.
Of their frequent visits at the local café, of the strange looks Dudley would suddenly give him, the hunger and want that he had always brushed off, of the touches he had mistaken for brotherly affection, of the strange black tattoo that had been on Dudley's neck, a snake coming from a skull.
He could also remember, before he had blacked out completely, laying on the cold floor, the sound of his apartment door opening and footsteps approaching him, along with the sounds of someone struggling. He could recall, as it all faded to black, the feeling of being lifted up, the sight of Vernon's determined face, his mouth set in a hard line as he dragged Harry towards the center of the room, where he currently sat.
His scream of rage turned into an unholy roar as the world faded around him once more.
