Title: Nightmares
Author: Tsubaki-chama
Disclaimer: I own only the plot, which was inspired anyway.
Summary: AU, drabble. Being a true Slytherin, Voldemort uses more underhand means than usual, straight into the mind of the Boy-Who-Lived. And true nightmares are often unforgettable...
Author's note: Please understand that this is entirely AU. I don't even remember what I was thinking when I wrote this in the dead of the night, so I cannot really explain where he is, what age he is, and how far this strays from canon. Inspired from the opening of Vocaloid Song "Hitobashira Alice / Alice Human Sacrifice". Kudos to the exact lyrics:
『あるところに、小さな夢がありました。誰が見たのかわからない、
それは小さな夢でした。小さな夢は思いました。
このまま消えていくのはいやだ。
どうすれば、人に僕を見てもらえるだろう。
小さな夢は考えて考えて、そしてついに思いつきました。
人間を自分の中に迷い込ませて、世界を作らせればいいと。』
He could feel it, a mysterious, swirling fog of intense emotions within himself, not from himself, but from some external factor - It seemed so strange to him, yet at the same time it seemed familiar. Like a presence that was always within him, but strengthed.
Potter. It spoke up, the voice mild. Harry bolted upright from his fetal regretted immediately as a blinding headache took over. He slumped back down on his duvet.
What is it? He replied wearily, although surprising himself that he wasn't freaking out when a random voice spoke to him in his head. Maybe he was turning a little looney, like that Looney girl a year below him, hmm. Either way, he'd be getting a checkup for his mental condition once he feels well enough to walk about...
Potter! You are not mental. It gave a sniff of contempt. I wouldn't let it. I willl not let what is about to happen to be filed away as insanity.
Harry felt his heart leap against his chest and then turn still as it froze over. What is about to happen to me! He yelled in his mind, frantic.
He could not see the man, but he could tell that he was grinning madly as he relayed the message into his mind. You will die, young Potter boy. I have had enough of your will die a nice and slow death while I spend my time joyously looking at your pathetic state.
A revelation, perhaps a little too late. Volde-Tom. What a surprise, here to pick on someone half your size and a fifth of your age again? He tried his best to sound sarcastic. Even to his own ears, they sounded feeble and helpless.
Dreams are easy to forget, aren't they. Voldemort pointedly ignored the use of his old name and the half-hearted insults. He sounded almost normal, like he was a catching up with an old friend. But true nightmares are often unforgettable. Harry stayed silent, unsure of how to continue, and trying his best not to think of calling the teachers, since Vol-Tom can apparently read his mind.
Voldemort gave an outright maniacal laughter, the booming sound ringing in Harry's ears. He felt like they could bleed, but yet he felt happy. The residuals of the feelings of joy that Voldemort had shown had clearly affected the feelings on this end too. Surely, you are smarter than that. Teachers would be useless in this situation, and resistance will be futile.
What do you want from me? Harry's forehead was scrunched up in annoyance and partially fear. He felt vulnerable and open. It didn't help that Snape wasn't a very good teacher in Occlumens. Voldemort's voice went from enthused to deathly cold. That traiter. I should've known.
Oh shit. Harry thought one last time, before banishing the thought away to avoid the subject from then on. Voldemort, meanwhile, contemplated over Harry's previous question. I want your life, that I'm sure you know. What better than to attack from the inside of my archenemy's brain? Dreams are fleeting, Voldemort mused, but nightmares last a long time. I long to see the day your life turns out to be one, till you are consumed by fear. I have enough death and torture scenes from my penseive to make you mad 10 times over...
I'm going to plague your mind, until you receive Death with open arms.