I try and quash the panic I feel rising in my chest.
Okay, so there was a distinctly female voice echoing around in my head. That would be fine, right? Everything is fine.
I try very hard to push the words Hermione said to me last year out of my head.
"Even in the wizarding world, hearing voices isn't a good sign."
Crap.
Look, Potter, as much as I would love to listen to you panic about my presence, I don't have the time or patience to listen to your bullshit.
Er…
Well, technically, I have the time, but I sure as hell do not have the patience. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to unlock your memories to save myself from having to explain the stuff you already know.
Wait, locked memories? Is that why I couldn't remember what happened in the-
A rush of information runs that thought into the ground. Everything feels like it hits me at once.
Tamelyn Riddle.
The future Dark Lady and scourge of wizarding britain is inside my head, and she can apparently control my memories.
I react to this information with all of the emotional maturity that one could expect from a stunted not-yet thirteen year old.
Which is to say, none at all.
Oh, sure, on the outside, I'm calm, but I am seriously freaking out inside.
Unfortunately, Riddle is also inside, and she reacts to my panic by sending a wave of pain through my body.
If I wasn't collapsed on the ground in pain, I probably would have wondered how she managed that.
Are you listening now? Much as it pains me to admit it, I need your help. Or rather, your help would make this miserable situation easier for both of is. So, you either swear a magical oath not to reveal my existence of any of my secrets, or I lock your memories back up and you get to work yourself into a tizzy trying to figure out why your have blocked memories and why you keep feeling emotions that aren't yours.
Emotions that aren't mine… Wait, is she why I kept getting mad at Dumbledore?
Yes I was. I don't trust that bearded bastard, and I decided that letting you feel my distrust might help you see past the rose tinted lenses you've viewed him with. Once you stop seeing him as an infallible leader of the light, it's easy to see a much less pretty picture of the man's actions.
I...really don't like the idea of taking an oath to a future Dark Lady, let alone someone who's so opposed to Dumbledore. I also really don't like the idea of having my memories blocked off.
If it helps you decide, then you should know that I can also possess you. I can't do it nonstop, and I can't make an oath bind your actions, but at least if you take the oath, you'll know who's possessing you when I need to do it. Surely, you'd prefer a known evil to an unknown one?
That does tip the scales, though I now find myself even more horrified at my situation.
She is right, though. I'd prefer to at least know what's going on, even if it's not good.
Good. Now grab your wand and repeat after me…
I still hate everything about this.
"I, Harry James Potter, do vow upon my life to not willingly share, hint at, direct others to, or in any way allude to any of the secrets or knowledge held by Tamelyn Merope Riddle. As magic is my witness."
I feel something… shift, for lack of a better word, deep inside me as my wand flashes with light. I really hope this doesn't trigger as magic use at the ministry. I already got one warning last year thanks to Dobby.
Don't be ridiculous. I removed the trace from your wand back in the chamber. It was one of the first things I did in your body after I fused my soul to yours.
The former bit of info is interesting. The latter bit is something that I really don't like her glossing over.
I mean, she did what?
Yes, I was quite surprised. There was a tiny fragment of my soul in your scar. I just merged with the fragment that was already there, then used my own, far greater power to try and finish the possession it kept trying to start. Unfortunately for me, it didn't work. And now I'm stuck here. I don't fancy being in your head forever, and I wasn't able to complete the possession on you thanks to some weird ward woven around your soul. As so, if you cooperate and help me get a body, then I promise not to kill you afterwards. Deal?
Is that my mum's protection that Dumbledore always talks about? That aside, there is no way I'm making a deal with her. Absolutely not. I don't trust her. At all.
Oh for the love of… Speak to me directly! None of this third-person shit!
'Um… Hi?'
Hi. You don't trust me. That's sensible. Trust is a weakness, and I don't trust you, either. I believe you will act in your own self-interest, just as I act in mine. I only revealed myself to you because you have some misguided hero complex, and it keeps getting you nearly killed. I'd rather not find out what happens if you die while I'm connected to you. Oh, and don't go getting a martyrdom complex. Core-me is still out there, and your death would ultimately mean nothing but removing an obstacle.
'Core-you is insane, and you probably are too! You murdered countless people! You snuck a mountain troll into a school as a distraction! You killed my parents! You advocated for the genocide of muggles and muggleborns!'
Don't pin the actions of my Core self on me. I only killed one person, and it was an accident. I don't know her reasons for the slaughter she did or why she tried to kill you and your parents. I will tell you this, though: I always used blood purity as an excuse to control others. I never cared about it. I do hate muggles, though. Core-me is probably performing a very intricate act in order to make her opponents believe she's insane to make them underestimate her.
'I don't believe it.'
And you don't have to. Like I said, trust is for fools. But for now, thanks to poor choices on both of our parts, We're stuck together. You don't betray me and I don't betray you. Deal?
I hate this. I hate every part of this. Even if I do help her get a body, I don't trust her not to kill me when she's done.
Good. That's very shrewd of you. You swore an oath to me, so let me return the favour…
I feel Tamelyn's… presence move to the front of my mind while I find my own presence forced to the back. My body starts moving on its own, presumably under Tamelyn's influence, and my wand arm lifts into the same position it was when I swore my oath. My own voice then speaks.
"I, Tamelyn Merope Riddle, swear on my life to not knowingly bring any lasting or mortal harm to Harry James Potter. As magic is my witness."
There's another flash of magic, though I don't feel anything shift inside me. Presumably because I wasn't the one who swore the oath, this time.
'Only lasting or mortal harm?'
It may become necessary for us to do unpleasant things to get me into a body of my own. I have some ideas, but it will take a lot of research. Also, pain is a good deterrent if you start acting stupid. I'd hate to prevent myself from doing that again.
'Great. You really are a psycho, aren't you?'
I've been called worse. Now, I will need your help to get a body. You do that, then I talk to my core self and get her to leave you alone. Do we have a deal?
I really wish we didn't, but I can't deny the appeal of getting Voldemort off of my back for good. I only hope the cost doesn't end up being too high…
'Deal.'
The damp expanses of the Chamber of Secrets surround me. My heart pounds in my ears as I run down the putrid corridor. The stone snakes guarding the central chamber lash out at my as I run past them, scraping and cutting my arms in the process. The central chamber is enormous, yet feels suffocating. I run over to Ginny's body, pale and bloodied and unbreathing. As I sob over her form, a terrifying, monstrous slithering sound echoes through the room. I stare up at the massive form of the basilisk, black scales shimmering in an iridescent green, and eyes a sickly yellow colour. As I brace myself for death, a voice sounds from behind me.
"Seriously, Potter?"
I whirl around to see Riddle sitting nonchalantly on the arm of a rather plush-looking chair.
"I mean, seriously, you're having nightmares about facing a beast that you never even saw?"
"I, er… How do you have a body?"
"You're asleep and dreaming. For now, we are sharing a mind and body, and as such, I get to be here. Now why are you having nightmares about a creature you never saw, let alone fought?"
"Because it's a huge and terrifying snake that could kill me more easily than anything?"
Riddle shakes her head. "Honestly, Tessie shouldn't even be a direct threat to you." She says as she jumps off of the chair. "You think Salazar would put a beast in his chamber that would kill his heirs with a passing glance or a drop of venom? As a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, you're immune to both the basilisk's gaze and poison."
"Wait, what? You mean I was never in any danger at all?"
"Of course you were in danger. Even if you can't be poisoned by the basilisk's bite, their fangs are incredibly long and sharp, and more than capable of killing someone simply through a good stabbing. Besides which, I was there, and I certainly would have tried to kill you if I hadn't discovered the piece of my own soul inside you. I'm not fond of leaving witnesses, after all."
"You're a terrible person." I spit out. "And I'm not descended from Slytherin."
"Yes, I am a terrible person, and you are most definitely descended from Slytherin, just as I am. We're both parselmouths, and we both have his eyes." She gestures to her own vibrant green eyes, the same shade that I see every day in the mirror.
"I've been told I have my mum's eyes…"
"She was probably a descendant of a squib line that regained magic. Most so-called 'muggleborns' have squibs in their ancestry somewhere. Now then… $Come here, Tessie!$"
The basilisk's huge form leans down to Riddle. Riddle begins rubbing its scales and making cutesy hisses at it.
"$Who's a good snake? You are!$"
The basilisk begins emitting a deep vibration, almost like a cat's purring. I guess the fact that I'm already asleep is why I don't feel awake enough to deal with this.
Having a constant mental companion, psychopathic as she may be, does help the summer pass along faster.
Just because it passes faster doesn't mean that it's any less unbearable, though.
Kill him.
She says that every time I see Uncle Vernon.
'And once again, my response is "No".'
I have provided you with a traceless wand, and you refuse to use it to exact revenge on the people who have tormented you for years. Why would you pass up such an opportunity for revenge?
'Because I don't hate them! Because they may have never loved me, but they weren't awful!'
You can't shield your memories from me, you know. Maybe you've done your best to forget, but I can see everything in your head. Let me remind you…
Memories rush through my head. Uncle Vernon was rarely physical in his abuse, but accidental magic was an exception. I'm forced to feel the pain on my back as Uncle Vernon lashed at it with his belt, screaming at me for bringing "that freakishness" into his house. I'm reminded of the constant hunger pangs that tormented me every time I was locked in my cupboard for some perceived slight. I nearly choke up once she starts pulling up my memories of feeling totally unwanted throughout most of my life.
These people are responsible for most of your pain. Killing them would be justice, wouldn't it?
'No.' I manage to think back, though my resolve is much weaker.
Really, Dumbledore sends you back here each year, and you wonder why I don't trust him.
'My issues are no concern of yours.'
That's where you're wrong. For one, I am stuck here, inside your head, probably for a few years. Your issues are every concern of mine. And two, do you think you're the first kid Dumbledore didn't care about? That coot was convinced I was dark from the moment he met me. Every summer, no matter how much I begged, he sent me back. He sent me back to a place where I was not only unwanted and unloved, but hated and constantly in danger! Every! Single! Summer! You want to know why I hate him? I hate him because he's a fool who is so wrapped up in his preconceived notions of good and evil that he lets those who need help suffer! Why wouldn't I hate someone like that? He didn't even bother to learn from the mistakes he made with me! Here I find that five decades later, he once again shoved a magical child into an unloving environment, and once again, refused to get them out of there when they ask!
I try and block out her words, but I can't help but think that if what she says about her life is true, then we really are more similar than I feel comfortable admitting.
I glare at Vernon as he passes by me again. I still refuse to kill him, but my refusal feel less vindicating than it did before.
This is going to be a long summer.
A/N: Unlike in HPSS, magical oaths do exist, though I changed how they work from most fanon.
A magical oath only determines future actions. You can't swear you didn't do something, as the oath only enforces itself for actions performed after the oath was sworn.
An oath cannot be sworn by oneself. An oath must be sworn to another person, relating to that person. The person the oath is sworn to is capable of releasing them from that oath. It's essentially an unbreakable vow in which only one person is bound. An unbreakable vow allows both parties to have their actions bound, so it's usually used for a mutual exchange of biding conditions, since if one person rejects one of the conditions, the whole vow fails to form.
Also, for those of you wondering if this will be a manipulative!evil!Dumbledore fic, I urge you to remember that Tamelyn is far from unbiased where Dumbledore is concerned.