Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.
AN: Anath is a Harsesis and a Goa'uld, she is not a host. Therefore the memories she had were her own. The symbiote and host are one. This is why I used the idea of the conscious (the symbiote) and subconscious (Harsesis).
A few may wonder why Anath was killed in the last chapter. Anath had not lived on Earth for over five thousands year and she had other cultures influences. It would not be difficult that her strange behaviours were pickup or the technology used caught the attention of Torwood. Therefore, Torwood's team decided to take her in, to studies but she was retaliated and got accidental got killed.
I would like to super thanks, Riddle Master 101 forreedited the chapter and hobbitdoitbetter who is previously beta-ed the chapter.
Thanks for reviews and supports.
This may help with the confusion.
"…speech…"
'…thoughts…'
Chapter 3: The Tug-of-War
June 1992
He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down…down…down… (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, p. 214)
The year had gone quickly, and the end of school was soon only four days away. It was time for students to relax after the heavy load of exams, to celebrate quietly together with friends while they awaited the last night's feast. The quietest place at Hogwarts during this occasion should be the Hospital Wing; yet surprisingly it was not empty. One unconscious student remained, wrapped up from head to toe like a mummy.
Madam Pomfrey frowned. She hated it when the little one like this was injured, and not just anyone but Harry Potter. She sighed; one could always blame the whole incident on the Headmaster. She had warned him that the Philosopher's Stone would only mean trouble but the Headmaster had thought it was best for Harry…
"Well, look where it had got the boy. Poor child!" She shook head and clucked her tongue, continuing with her diagnosis. She had managed to FINALLY throw everyone out, the child need rest since she had suspected that he was magically exhausted. Of course, one must always make sure, no matter what the physical appearance might have be. She continued with her examination. Checking his vitals, magically scanning the boy, 'All seemed to be normal'… then Madam Pomfrey stopped, gasping at the chart and the boy. She trembled, her eyes dashing back and forth between the chart and the boy. She was not sure what to do, maybe it was best to inform the Headmaster of the situation but before she had completed her thought and progressed to the door, a beam light hit her.
It woke Harry up. "Oblivate!" the boy yelled, sitting straight up, on the bed.
He glanced down at his wand, shocked, the magic was still warm and tingling on his skin. What had he done? How was he able to cast the spell when he had not heard it before? It had come right out of his mouth. He knew what the spell was after it was cast, but…His thoughts become jumbled and he once again felt someone else was with him.
But Harry could not find anyone visible in the room, except Madame Pomfrey.
Harry studied the old woman. She looked OK, the memory charm should not have harmed her, and once he was out of the bed he tried to rouse her. "Professor..?" he asked. The woman moved, dazed, standing up beside his bed. He saw the linen white sheets and knew he was in the Hospital wing. He felt tired, the blasted Oblivate charm has taken all the energy he had regained. However, he forced himself to be stay wake. Heknewsomeone was there, no longer invisible and now taking an active role in his life.
In the last year Harry had felt something or someone with him, helping him to find his courage. It was making sure he didn't give in to hopelessness as he often felt. He had tried to convince himself that it was Dumbledore, he had even thought once or twice that it might be Voldemort but deep down he had known that it was something else.
Something was in this room with him and Madame Pomfrey now.
Harry felt a wave of nausea, lying back on the bed though his stubbornness would not let him rest. Suddenly he felt the thing inside him rear into life, and he couldn't keep it quiet. "Close your eyes," the voice in his head whispered in amusement, "We must have our discussions in your subconscious." It was like magic and Harry felt himself dragged into unconsciousness.
Immediately he was firing questions.
"No needs to shout, I can hear you," the voice began dryly. "I'll start off with my tale, just give me a chance to speak!" Harry tried to answer back but immediately his mind went blank. He began to afraid of this person, who could shut him up so easily and probably able to squash him out of existence. So he stayed quiet.
The silence was long. His consciousness was trapped and it felt like he was in an endless abyss. The other entity was in control. It knew Harry accepted the reality and understood his helplessness. Finally, the voice broke the silence. "My name is Anath," it announced. "Or rather, technically I am the subconscious mind of Anath. My conscious is comatose, a result of that nasty incident you witnessed last year. I think you remember? I was shot dead by a human, a humiliation for which I (of course) took their life."
"That was you? And you're still alive?" Harry could not help but chip in. "How?"
"I was about to explain that…" The voice sounded irritated.
"Sorry, please continue." Harry's interest had been aroused. He loved stories, having lived a dull existence until a year ago.
"Thank you," the voice retorted caustically. It reminded Harry a little of Severus Snape for some reason he couldn't work out. "I am not entirely sure how this was done to us. I did not intend to be trapped here in your unconscious when I took my revenge, and yet here I am. Here both of us are."
"Us? As in you and me?"
"Yes, as in you and me!" Again the voice snapped. This time it reminded him of Aunt Petunia.
"My body had returned to the ship but because you were the nearest and I was so damaged, I was forced to move to you. I have tried to persuade Anath to accept this arrangement, but so far she is unwilling. And without her consent I cannot take control of you." The voice paused. "So now I am trapped here, within your unconscious."
Harry waited but the other voice let the silence stretch out. Eventually he realised that she was not going to offer any more explanation, but he couldn't just let it rest.
"It sounds bizarre, you're living inside me," he muttered. "How could that possible?"
"Our people called those we take a Host. You are our host now."
"I am? Don't I have any choice in this?"
Once again the voice grew angry. "We are Goa'uld. We have taken humans as hosts for centuries." Her voice grew condescending. "I had never taken one. Baal will laugh when he sees this. We were fallen out, fought nearly death on this ideal." She sighed.
"If my death were under normal circumstances with our full mind intact, I would not have taken you… Harry."
It sounded strange when she said his name…"That does not answer my question."
"I do not need to answer your question," Anath sneered. "You are lucky, were I any other Goa'uld you would no longer have any control of your precious body!"
"No one will take over my body without my consent," Harry countered. "And no one will force me to use magic without my consent either." And his anger flared as he remembered the Oblivate spell.
"BE QUIET CHILD!" Anath shouted. Her voice became dark and malicious. "The woman would have discovered me if I had not done so and I will gladly destroy your existence if you continue to scream like this."
"Leave me alone, you're a monster." Harry felt pressure as if someone had wrenched the air from his lungs. He started to panic. "Get out, GET OUT!" Harry cried. He tried to think of some way to force the thing out of him, but he couldn't. Why his magic had not done anything? Is it because she had been living inside him and his magic did not recognise her as a threat. He thrashed in his (their?) head trying to get air, trying to break free, but it did no use. Anath was laughing now, and he couldn't breath, and suddenly his nightmare with Quirrell and Voldemort seemed like a walk in the park.
His last thought was of Fluffy's snoring. Then everything shut down.
Harry Potter watched his friends leaving the train platform. The good part had come to an end, and he was not sure what to expect with the Dursleys this summer. It had been a year since he last saw Uncle Vernon and he had not changed a bit; still a nasty man with a quick temper.
Harry contemplated the dream once again. He was a… HOST to a Goa'uld, though he did not know what a Goa'uld was. Was it a weird dream? He had not told anyone about it either, like when the Hat had chose him for Slytherin's House. It was personal.
[Break]
July 31 1992
The summer holidays had passed quickly. Only a month to go and yes, he was still being treated the same by the Dursleys, doing all his chores before being allowed get back to his room. Hermione and Ron had not sent a single letter to him, but he had excuses for them. He started to become bitter and wondered if it was all a dream. He had hoped he would receive something at least before midnight. After all, surely they would not forget his birthday!
Harry was not sure what had happened, the day seem to be OK. Well until Dobby turned up, a house-elf apparently, (as the creature had informed him) and everything started to go downhill from there. Shaking, he dropped the letter, and prepared for the verbal abuse to come. He expected it as the giant palm swung down to smack his cheek.
His hand immediately grasped hold of his uncle's hand in midair. Harry did not expected to be able to defend himself. He could feel the other present now, Anath.
It was not a dream, after all. HIS LIFE DID SUCK.
"I may not able to use magic outside school but that does not mean I have no other way to defend myself, you big over-grown BUFFOON." The words rolled out of his mouth smoothly, coldly, leaving Harry afraid for his uncle.
"Please let go off him." He pleaded with his thoughts when Harry saw his hand about to crush his Uncle's hand. His slim fingers would break the bone any second.
Anath ignored him completely.
"I said, released him." Harry yelled and his magic flared up again.
Anath's subconsciousness did not want to go back to sleep. She knew she could not keep control forever. Harry fought and after a moment she gave in. "Fine, you may be happy taking his abuse but I'm not." She huffed and let Uncle Vernon's arm go, leaving the other man frozen. "Stay away, buffoon!" Anath snarled at Dursley before giving Harry back his body. "Or next time I will not be so forgiving." And then finally she quietened down.
There was silence in the room.
"I'm going upstairs now," Harry muttered, embarrassed as he strode off. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon." He said weakly and glanced back, and saw the horrified look in his uncle's eyes. It was the same expression he had when they were abused him. He did not fancy becoming like them.
"Boy, how did you beat me?"
Harry did not bother to answer back. He was not happy. 'MY LIFE IS OVER', he thought dramatically.
[Break]
December 1992
Harry Potter ignored the entity inside him, Anath. He had months to practice. He was grateful that she had not taken control of his body since his uncle incident, although he had to admit that that did not make the situation any less worrisome. Harry thought it might be because she was sulking but he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything. He wasn't even sure whether there was a difference between Anath's conscious and unconscious selves. Not that he really cared. He just wanted to get rid of the entity before it could manifest into something dangerous.
His thoughts of defeating Anath only earned a mental sniggering reply.
However, Anath had become a minor problem, an irritation, nothing as profound as what had happened today. Harry rubbed his bridge of his nose, where the line of his glasses was imprinted deeply. How could he deal with it? His return to Hogwarts was like having a banquet in his honour but the reality was different. None of his friends understood him, and he had been truly frightened by the things that had happened to him this year. He laughed and joked about his adventures, they said he was a true Gryffindor, but nobody really understood. He was alone, again…
Ron's words after the Duelling Club had troubled him greatly, him possibly being Slytherin's great-great-great-great-grandson.
"What wrong about being a great-great-great-great grandson of Salazar Slytherin?" Anath probed gently then. The boy was in a lot of trouble and she had ignored the situation. 'It was not my problem but…'
"Didn't you hear... they're all evil. No one decent ever has spoken Parseltongue!" Harry exploded, "What do you know anyway?"
"I know more than you, little boy," she huffed. "Regardless of past history, and the prejudice that I have seen in this world, I doubt that you being a Parseltongue instantly makes you evil."
"Well…no…but-"
Anath cut him off. "I'm an expert, child, in the acquisition of evil. You definitely are not qualified in such an area." She shrugged, "If you want, I could teach you to be evil. It would open your eyes on the possibilities." Harry choked horrifying at the thought as she laughed at his grossed out face. "No? Then perhaps you should remember that evil is not inherent. It is about what you choose to do and what you do not choose to do."
And with that she left him to his thoughts.
TBC…
Publish Date: 01/10/09
Update Date: 22/09/10
