Title: Takeover

Author: RosePetal158

Summary: After Sirius died Harry becomes deeply depressed. But during his stay at the Dursley's, Harry became suïcidal. So something vital changed in him... And it's nothing good either.

Disclaimer: I know I already placed one of these in the first chapter of this story that counted for the entire story, but since I copied and translated a lot of text from the book, I'm doing this once again: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. Doesn't mean I don't wish I do, but really, you can't blame me for that.

A/N: Hi everyone! I have to say- excuse me, write some things for you all.

Firstly, when you are done reading this chapter, there is a text: Type your review here... That's where one writes a review. Writing one of those hardly takes 30 seconds and make this author very pleased. So if you have thirty seconds of spare time; REVIEW!

Secondly, this author is very much pissed of, because she had to write all of this a second time, because she forgot to submit this document.

Thirdly, from now on Harry's thoughts are typed like this: I don't like bananas., while Harry's thoughts, influenced by Tom, or Tom's thoughts in Harry's head wil be written like this: I don't like bananas either.

Fourthly, I would like to thank all my readers, but most of all, my reviewers, followers, and those who pressed the button favourite.

Fifthly, here's another, longer, and hopefully well written chapter, for you all.

ENJOY!

Dumbledore

Harry's eyes shot open and he inhaled a deep breath, his body shooting forward. Eyes wide he gasped as if exhausted and asked himself.

Where am I?

While he took in his surroundings, he straightened slowly, and sat back down on his bed.

Right, he thought, I came up here because I was upset.

While Harry was still upset, he felt… less burdened. Less depressed. Somewhat better. Unbeknownst to him, this was all because of one man. A horcrux actually.

… Earlier…

"I'm glad to have you as a friend, Tom."

A corner of Tom's mouth lifted. "As am I, Harry."

A few minutes flew by without either of them talking.

"It's sad you won't remember any of this when you wake up, though."

Harry's attention, that had turned on his feet, snapped back to Tom within less than a second.

"What do you mean, I won't remember this when I wake up. Of course will I remember this."

Harry's voice carried a sharp undertone, being apparent every time he emphasized a word. His eyes narrowed and hands tightened on his pants. Tom merely cocked his head to the right.

"I'm afraid not. As I told you before, this is the lowest level in the memory part of your mind. But I forgot to tell you that, not only do you need an access card to get here, you also need one to get out."

Harry's hands relaxed before tightening again. The light, which Tom carried earlier, was floating by his head and spreading a faint glow over some of his features, and leaving shadows over others.

"So basically, what you're saying, is that I won't be able to leave."

Tom lowered and shook his head, and closed his eyes before opening them again.

"That is not what I said. The rule I just told you is for memories. Meaning that, when you leave this place, your memories gained in here will stay in here, whether they belong here or not. They got in without an access card, but they will not be able to get out with you. Unless you want to ruin this place in an effort to get out, and experience a horrible pain in doing so. Your choice."

The last part was said in an incredibly sarcastic voice, but Harry paid it no mind. This time, Harry was the one who cocked his head, but to the left side.

"Will I be able to get back here?"

"Of course. It is your mind after all."

"What about-"

"my memories? They will flow around here somewhere. If you want to I can make them stay in one place so that you will regain them every time you come here. You're a Gryffindor, so your curiosity will make you touch it every time, no doubt."

Ignoring the insult, Harry answered.

"Thank you. How do I get in here if I don't remember this place?"

"It is your mind. Figure something out, I don't know. If it's a consolation, I know you will return soon. Don't worry."

Harry lowered his head and let it rest on his knees. He closed his eyes and murmured softly: "I guess I should head back up there, shouldn't I. I can't stay in here forever after all."

Tom got up, straightening his clothes. "Yes, you should. To get back to reality, you have to close your eyes and think, want it. Need it."

Harry got off the ground too, but much more clumsy, looked up to Tom's tall figure, and said his last words before leaving.

"I will see you soon." With that sentence he closed his eyes and did what he had to with his entire mind. He felt himself flowing up, slowly going faster, his black hair his surroundings growing lighter trough his eyelids and then…

... Now…

And after I came up here, I sat down on my bed. I closed my eyes and … black… that's all I can remember. But it's been four hours. Have I fallen asleep? Perhaps…

As time flew by, Harry grew less and less depressed about Sirius, but still, he hadn't revisited Tom. The start of term started to get closer and Harry got a letter from Dumbledore saying that he was coming to escort Harry on Friday night to the Burrow and that he would like Harry's help with a certain matter. Harry, of course, replied immediately to said letter with a yes, but for some reason he still hadn't told the Dursleys that Dumbledore would be coming. He didn't know very well why, but he suspected that it was because he didn't believe Dumbledore would rescue him out of the Dursley' s claws. Maybe he would forget to come.

Harry couldn't shake of the feeling that something would go wrong- maybe his answer to Dumbledore was wrongly delivered, or Dumbledore couldn't come after all, or maybe the letter wasn't even from the headmaster but some stupid joke or an artifice or a trap. Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to pack and afterwards be disappointed and have to unpack everything again. His only concession to the fact that he would maybe indeed be leaving was that he had locked up his owl, Hedwig, in her cage. The minute indicator of the alarm clock reached the number twelve and exactly at that moment the street lantern before the window went out.

Harry started wide-awake, as if the sudden darkness was a sign. He put his glasses straight hastily, pulled his cheek from the glass, pressed his nose against the window and gazed at the sidewalk. A tall figure in a wide, flitting cloak came walking across the garden path.

Harry jumped up as if he had received a shock, kicked his chair over and began to grab everything within his reach and threw it in his trunk. Just when he threw a pair of robes, two spell books and a bag of chips through his room, the doorbell rang. Downstairs in the living room his uncle yelled: "Who for heaven's sake rings the bell this late in the evening."

Harry stiffened, with a copper telescope in his one hand and a pair of sport shoes in the other. He totally forgot to warn the Dursleys that Dumbledore might be coming. He meant to tell them, really, but he never actually thought Dumbledore would show up.

Panicky but also with the feeling he could burst out laughter any minute, he climbed over his trunk and threw his bedroom door wide open. He was just in time to hear a deep voice say: "Goodnight. You must be mister Dursley. I take Harry told you that I would be picking him up?"

Harry ran down the stairs as fast as he could, but stopped a few steps before the end abruptly. He knew from experience that he could better stay out of his uncle's reach if possible. In the door opening stood a tall, thin man with silver hair and a beard that came up to his waist. A pair of half round glasses balanced on his hooked nose and he wore a long black travelling cloak and pointy hat. Vernon Dursley stared at his visitor, as he couldn't believe his little beady eyes.

"According to your expression of shock and disbelieve, I would say that Harry didn't warn you. But let us assume you asked me to come in nicely. In these dangerous times it isn't very wise to stay outside for too long." Dumbledore quickly came in and closed the front door behind him. "It's been a long time since my last visit. I have to say your gladiolus are looking excellent."

Dumbledore stared at uncle Vernon. Vernon, on the other hand, said nothing. Harry didn't doubt for a second that his uncle would get his ability to speak back quickly- if the vein at his temples was anything to go by- but something about Dumbledore seemed to have taken away his breath. Maybe it was because he looked so obviously magical, but possibly his uncle Vernon felt that this was a man he would have a hard time commanding.

"Ah, good evening, Harry," said Dumbledore and Harry stepped down the last to steps, dodged his uncle to give his professor a hand. "Excellent, excellent."

These words seemed to shake Vernon awake. It was clear that if someone who saw Harry and said 'excellent', it was a man he would never like. Harry decided to intervene.

"What might be excellent, professor?" shaking his hand in a welcoming gesture. "This day, this evening, this meeting?" Certainly not this meeting…

Harry looked in his headmaster's eyes while mentally berating himself.

What's wrong with me? I'm happy professor Dumbledore is here. He will get me out of here.

The headmaster stared in his eyes also, his eyes twinkling happily, but after a while a frown formed on his brows. Not noticeable to anyone but those who knew him of course.

"Everything together. Let us discuss the matters I came for in the living room, shall we?" Dumbledore finally offered, looking away from Harry and back to uncle Vernon, the frown still there.

Yes, let's get this over with.

Harry shook his head and followed his headmaster and reluctant uncle to the living room.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review. Review? Please? #this author is currently using her greatest asset- puppy dog eyes!#

Thank you for reading!

RosePetal158