by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter... #laughs maniacally#

Read Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

Bunnies: - (Ignoring HBP) Dumbledore shows up with a little boy at the beginning of Harry's 6th year. The child immediately attaches himself to Harry, who accepts his new role as Tom's caretaker quickly, loving the feeling of having something of a family (they even look somewhat alike). When asked what his name is, he tells them it's "Tom Widdle" which the Trio translates as "Tom Little", but we know what he really meant, right? Little Tom has trouble saying his r's, but otherwise speaks quite clearly and picks up on new words with disturbing swiftness (example being when Hermione called him pretentious and not ten minutes later he called Draco a pretentious bastard; the second word was from Ron).

- Who read the story "Caught" on aff dot net? XD

- In the last set of scraps there was one with Harry having forgot about everything, yes? This scene has been bugging the hell out of me since. It's when Tom finds 'Caelestis'.

- Weird dream turned plotbunny. One of my many insane/mental hospital plotbunnies.

- What if the elixir Voldie uses to return his body erases his memory and bonds him to Harry? Here's the start of it. Antagonists would probably be Malfoys and/or Ginny and/or Weasleys and/or other Death Eaters.

- #DDRs to Dam Dariam# XP

- Since the Dursleys called Harry 'freak' or 'boy' all the time he didn't know his name, so when he ran away to a circus to 'be with others of his kind' as Dudley had said only days before, he was unable to tell them who he was. A couple saw how thin he was and took him in. The boy was renamed and started learning magic tricks from one of the performers until he realized he had real magic and started doing his own. He became semi-famous, but stayed with his adopted parents. When the letter came for him to go to Hogwarts, he decided he didn't want to go, so he spelled himself untraceable. Eventually the war and/or Voldemort intrude into his life and he has to take an active part in protecting those he cares about.

- This is what I get for listening to AMV Hell 4. #sweatdrop# 'Maybe I'm a Lion' by the Black Mages and Harry Potter kind of meshed to give me this idea that I can't seem to get out of my head. It's just a little snippet, but the only words from that song are it's title. Those little words and Harry (they had a baby, I swear!) combined to form (Captain Planet! ... or not) - er... whatever. Anyway, I keep thinking about Harry looking down first, right? Then he lifts his head, glaring (oh-so-sexily) and he says, "maybe I'm a lion." Listen to it on YouTube! You'll understand. Just search the name (Maybe I'm a Lion). It was originally from Final Fantasy VIII, but there are amvs with FFVII:AC, too. It's worth listening to the first 15 seconds if you aren't fond of game music. That's where the only lyrics are. #shrugs#

- Dark!Harry fic. Harry obtains an artifact that nearly completely inverts his personality, bringing out his darkness that is so great because of his previous light. The brighter the light, the deeper the darkness. He is drawn to Voldemort for obvious reasons (power draws power and darkness draws darkness).

#Start#

A piercing scream echoes from somewhere in the castle. Then, "YOU LITTLE SHIT! GET BACK HERE!" Giggling and the sound of running. Doors slam open and more running. McGonagall looks like she's about to murder someone as she hurries to the door. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watch with cautious amusement as the stern witch goes after the troublemakers, but just as she arrives at the door it bursts open and a small blur darts past her to the front of the room, leaving Draco Malfoy panting in the doorway.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Malfoy?" The green-clad teacher asks stiffly, watching the normally calm student glances around with murder in his eyes.

"Where is he? I'm going to strangle him, wrap my hands around his scrawny little neck and - "

"Mr. Malfoy! Explain yourself this instant!" Finally the Malfoy Heir seems to realize who is speaking to him and he turns red, ducking his head in embarrassment. There is some snickering from the class that is silenced immediately when their teacher gives them a stern look.

"Potter's brat pranked me, ma'am." His robes are in disarray and his hair is sticking up in odd places, but other than that he doesn't look any different.

"Oh? What kind of prank, Mr. Malfoy, could a child of six pull on such a knowledgeable Sixth Year such as yourself to upset you so much?" At this, the blond blushes even more and mumbles something. "What was that?" McGonagall leans forward slightly to hear better when Malfoy mumbles again. "Well, if that is all then we'd better go see your Head of House. Come along." Getting a good grip on his arm, she pulls him along to see the Potions Bat. Back in the room, a small child giggles and a Mr. Potter scoots back to look under his desk, straight into a pair of mischievous green eyes.

"Tom, what did you do this time?" the teen asks exasperatedly. Maybe he shouldn't have let the Tweasleys take care of Tom. They seem to have rubbed off way too much on the once sweet child.

"It was just a widdle spiduh," Tom explains innocently. It would be a perfect mask if not for the wicked grin stretching across it.

"Sure it was, you little monster," Harry teases, giving in immediately when the child raises his arms to be picked up. Nearby, Hermione rolls her eyes as Ron and several others burst out laughing.

"Hey, Ron," big grin, "it seems as if Malfoy shares your love of spiders," Harry announces loudly, making the red-head scowl at him.

"Not funny, Harry," Ron pouts amongst gales of laughter.

#Next#

Six year old Tom Riddle looks up innocently at Harry. "When I guow up, I wanna be a tentacle monstuh." Harry's eye twitches violently. 'I knew I shouldn't have let Gred and Feorge baby-sit him.'

#Next#

Drip... drip... drip...

The streetlight above him flickered randomly, arousing the desire to make it stop. Choose one or the other - just quit being indecisive! His breath misted before his eyes.

Drip... drip... drip...

There was no reason to be sprawled under a faulty streetlight in the dead of the night, but he couldn't recall why he was or why it hurt so much to breathe, much less attempt to move. Not a single part of him didn't ache or sting and on top of that he was soaked to the bone. The only good thing was that at least it was warm, making him think that it must be summer.

On... off... on on... off... on-off... on...

He just wanted it to pop, then - in a tinkle of metal on glass - it would cease bugging him with its inconstancy. There was no fighting the inevitable; the bulb would pop and it would be dark. Eyes slipping closed, the dark-haired teen groped around for any information on his situation.

Drip... drip... drip...

Nothing. His memory was completely blank. It was as if he had never had a life before a few moments ago. Strangling a sob welling up in his throat, he clenched his eyes tight. Would he lay there on the lumpy garbage bags forever? A soft breeze brushed passed him, eliciting a shiver from his thin form and goose bumps rising on his skin.

Off... on... off off off... on... off... on... off... on on on on... off...

How vexing.

Tap... tap... tap...

Eh? That was new. Were those... footsteps? Materializing from the darkness in a way that seemed completely natural, a dark-haired man appears, staring moodily ahead of him as he determinedly makes his way down the alley.

#Next#

I once dreamed that I was locked away in an insane asylum and referred to myself in third person, that I was all alone in the world and heard voices that no one else could. Then I woke up and found that what I was dreaming is my reality.

I'm Harry Potter, 16, and I live in a mental hospital specifically for unstable people who can perform magic. Naturally, each inmate wears a collar that represses their magic and I am no exception. Actually, mine is stronger than all the others because of my vast magic potential. Not that it does me any good.

I was transferred from Hogwarts at the end of my second year because I heard a voice that no one else could. When they found out, they immediately assumed that I was insane, but I found that its actually because I can speak to snakes. Apparently there was a rather large snake, also known as a basilisk, traveling through the pipes in the walls of the school.

#Next#

They landed hard, but Harry had never been so happy to have a Portkey. Kicking hard, the other young man freed them of the unwanted grip, eliciting a sharp squeal as the balding man was forced to roll away and grip his bruising flesh. Unwilling to open his eyes because of the nausea still affecting him, Harry pressed closer to the teen holding him, his grip loosening on the TriWizard Cup and Cedric Diggory's body. There were screams from all around him, but he couldn't seem to think of why. Surely the Portkey brought them back to Hogwarts?

Cedric Diggory was dead. Maybe that's why they were screaming? A soft voice was cooing to him in the back of his mind, telling him not to worry, that he was safe in his arms.

Voldemort was back, too; not that they knew, but none-the-less. It didn't change the fact that -

NO! He couldn't think of it. The arms he was nestled in tightened around him, a growl rumbling in the other's chest when someone else's hands came too close. What was distressing him so?

He pried open his eyes, immediately noticing that he was in Tom Riddle's arms. Said teen was baring his teeth and growling at Albus Dumbledore. Sighing deeply, Harry let go of the TriWizard Cup, hearing it clang to the ground as his free hand gripped the front of Tom Riddle's robes.

"Hey!" Confused red eyes turned to him. "I'm still with you, so quit making waves. He may be able to keep you out of the Ministry's grasp." His lips pursed in thought before he slowly nodded, but refused to let go of the messy-haired teen in his arms. Turning to face the Headmaster, Harry gripped the cloth in his hands tighter.

"Professor, someone turned the Cup into a Portkey that took us to a graveyard off Hogwarts' grounds. Then he - " Tilting his head, Harry indicated the squirming, squealing man on the ground. " - killed Cedric and strapped me to a gravestone, mumbling about reviving his master. He performed a strange ritual where he took a bone from the grave I was standing on, blood from my arm, and his own hand. These ingredients and a baby went into a cauldron which exploded in a bright light, knocking us out. When I came to, he - " This time he indicated the teen holding him. " - had freed me. He has amnesia and... for some reason he's rather attached to me." One of Dumbledore's eyes twitched. No doubt he recognized exactly who Harry's savior was. "Pettigrew then attempted to kill me, but my savior prevented that by having me grab the Portkey and I knew that I needed to bring back Cedric, too. Just as I managed to get a hold of both, Pettigrew touched us, explaining why he managed to come with us."

Fudge butted in, still going on about hiding the body. The way he was acting made Harry think that he had done something like this before. /Hide the body./ Shaking away those disturbing thoughts, he finally let go of Cedric, allowing others to take the body away.

"The bug-eyed one." Harry tilted his head, looking up at Tom Riddle's face before following his gaze to Mad-Eye Moody.

"What about him?" Growl starting up in his chest again, he glared at the professor.

"He isn't who he appears to be." One normal eye meets two vibrant green and owner of said eye approaches carefully. "Don't leave me."

"You're mine. There's no way anyone can separate us." Shuddering at the ringing truth of Tom's words, Harry grips him tighter, briefly closing his eyes to dispel the few tears suddenly threatening to escape before snapping open at the gruff voice of Mad-Eye.

"You two had better head to the Hospital Wing. Pomfrey'll no doubt want to fuss over you for doing something so dangerous." Slipping away from Dumbledore was simpler than they thought it would be. He just nodded away their safety, allowing the wannabe pirate lead them away to their dooms. Maybe Dumbledore thought he'd be safe with his savior? At least Pettigrew had gotten a hold of Tom's wand - for Tom, of course. It was safely in Tom's pocket. They were about halfway to the Hospital Wing when their escort stopped.

"Ack! Hiss at him to be patient or something!" Nodding almost imperceptibly, Tom turned his attention back to the person he now recognize as the spy in Albus Dumbledore's nest.

"Be patient, you fool!" Moody jerked in surprise before resuming movement. Soon they enter the ward and the matron immediately set upon Harry, seeing as Tom didn't have a scratch on him. The wound from the acromantula stung like Hell, especially when disturbed even as Pomfrey healed it and gave Harry an antidote for the venom. It hurt so much that Harry gripped Tom's hand so tight he wondered if he would break anything in their hands. On the other hand, Tom remained stoic even as his hand started to turn purple. Breathing heavily, Pomfrey left Harry to be helped into pajamas by Tom as she shooed Moody out of the ward. He'd be back later tonight, no doubt.

Luckily, the mediwitch could see when something is beyond her control like the fact that Dark Lords do whatever the Hell they want, even if they don't remember that they're Dark Lords. If they want to sleep in the same bed as their (ex)arch nemesis, then there's nothing in heaven or hell that can stop them, even their (ex)arch nemesis doesn't want them to (not that that's likely, especially this case). So after helping Harry into his pajamas, Tom changed into his own borrowed pair and slid under stiff sheets, having to pull Harry half on top of him to fit comfortably, but that didn't bother either of them.

#Next#

Curling in on himself, he felt his stomach give another gurgle. There was no way that anything good was going to come out of this, but he couldn't tell anyone. He had performed the Fidelus Charm on himself; it was such a dangerous secret.

Another gurgle made him groan. He was so hungry.

A few weeks prior, he had been going all the facts about the Wizarding World, Dumbledore and the Light, Voldemort and the Dark, the Prophesy, the death of his parents and then Sirius - everything he knew really because things weren't adding up.

Gaping holes mocked him as he had sifted through his knowledge. Why were things missing? Why didn't someone tell him some of this, things he should know? Hermione knew more than he did. Well, that wasn't a surprise, but it made him feel immensely inferior. Between all the things that were expected of him (not to mention defeating the annual challenge), he had no extra time.

And then this realization on top of all the questions and Sirius' death. To have fallen in love with - no, he can't think about it.

#Next#

They were back - the people in the funny-looking robes. For a magician like him traveling with a circus to consider something funny-looking, it really must be bloody bizarre. On and off for several years, they had been popping into existence and searching for a someone named Harry Potter. He didn't know any Potters, though, but he did know a couple of Blooms.

For the most part he kept out of their way. They had, of course, seen him at some point or another, but never displayed any interest in him. That didn't stop him from watching their search, though. Every so often he'd see them wave a stick and sometimes there would be sparks. They could do magic - not that it was anything super special because he could do magic too. Did they have to have strange robes on and wave sticks to do magic? He didn't, so why should they?

Then one day the most attractive man came with one of the groups of bizarre people. Long, black hair with piercing, red eyes - the man was to die for and apparently others thought so too since they followed his orders like good, little worker ants. He had never spoken with any from the groups, but now he had to resist the urge to go talk to this guy. Would the man mind if he were asked out on a date? The stranger didn't seem at all interested in the circus, but maybe he was just doing business.

He was obviously the boss of the group that always wore black robes, even if this one blonde dude always wore particularly nice, black robes. The way the red-eyed man was ordering his group around gave him naughty ideas.

Shaking his head, he returned to watching Maggie practice her routine. It wouldn't be long before she was allowed to practice on the tight rope. Since Triton was off doing whatever, he would probably be asked to play the victim in Catherine's knife-throwing act tonight. How the uni-banged teen could be so stoic while his sister chunked knives at him, he had no idea.

"Brats! It's time to eat!" Catherine called, smiling ever-so sweetly, making Maggie laugh and skip towards the knife-thrower's RV. Rolling his eyes, he followed, only growling lightly when the woman who had become his older sister ruffled his messy hair as he passed her. "You need another haircut. It's getting to look worse than that boy Triton hangs around with. You know, the one in the green tanktop?"

"If I need a new haircut, then you need cooking lessons. Is soup the only thing you know how to make?" He teased, dodging the swipe at his head and slipping behind Maggie for cover. Smiling just as calmly as always, Triton laughed from his seat.

"He has a point, Cathy," the acrobat chuckled quietly as he sat before his bowl of soup. Scowling, Catherine put her hands on her hips, getting ready to lecture them. Unknowingly, they were being watched by a pair of crimson eyes. More specifically, that gaze rested on one and one alone - a boy with black, messy hair and brilliant green eyes.

#Next#

They were surrounding him, hedging him in and trying to intimidate him. Why did everyone believe him Slytherin? Just because the stupid, ratty, old hat said he had a sharp mind and a goal in life didn't mean he was some sort of occultist freak who worshipped some snaky, hypocritic bastard. Coming to a decision, he finally lifted his gaze to the blonde idiot who seemed to be the leader.

"Maybe I'm a lion," he whispered just loud enough for this 'bad faith' fool to hear before he attacked.

#Next#

The world tilted and spun. To keep from falling, he clung to the closest solid object, which just happened to be something incredibly sharp he realized when he felt it slice into his flesh. He glanced over, only seeing a growing pool of blood and his own hand. What was this? Everything was growing darker.

He woke slowly, blinking his eyes open calmly. The world really had tilted on its side. At least it felt that way. He no longer felt guilt or worry about Ginny defying her brothers to go with the Slytherin she loved. The fight with Ron and Hermione about leaving him completely out of the loop all summer again seemed no more important than a slight disagreement with strangers. Nothing meant anything to him anymore.

The slow awareness rankled him, but that was all unimportant when he realized that something very familiar was dancing pleasantly over his skin. What was this? He shifted and moaned at the sensation. Whatever it was, he loved it. Trying to put a name to it only came up with one possibility - power. This was power? Oh, Merlin, then he never wanted to be without it. How could he have possibly been so blissfully unaware of this heavenly force?

Hands skimming over his chest increased the feeling coiling in his gut, so he continued, homing in on the nerve-riddled nubs known as nipples easily and molesting them for more pleasure. The coil tightening with each rub and twist, while his other hand stroked over the bulge in his pajama pants. If this was how it would always be, he wouldn't be able to leave the bed. He would be stuck in a haze of pleasure day in and day out, unable to do anything but pleasure himself indefinitely.

The coil was wound too tight that it was beginning to almost hurt, but then it finally became too much, releasing all the tension and making pleasure wash over him in a sudden tsunami. Gasping for air he seemed to have deprived himself of as he had reached his peak, Harry groaned almost silently. Luckily, he had silence barriers up, but sometimes he forgot they were in affect. he had worried that they would one day fail and he would be embarrassed most shamefully. That was no longer a fear for him.

Licking his dry lips, he reached for his wand. The feeling of cooling cum in his pants would not be enjoyable. Deft fingers drew his wand into his hand, the strange feeling of warm metal on one of his fingers directing his attention to its presence. Only yesterday he had slipped it on, barely noticing the shift within himself. Nobody had noticed, but now he did. His anger had surfaced for nearly every little annoyance, getting him detentions with Snape for the next few weeks, but he was unable to find it in him to care, even now.

The only thing he thought of when his mind drifted to the ring was Dark. It was Dark. It had Dark powers and effects. He was wearing a Dark ring in Hogwarts and nobody, not even Dumbledore, had said a single thing about it! It was probably not the best thing for him to be wearing, but once again he couldn't find it in him to remove it or even tell a single person about it. He had a sneaking suspicion that the ring was why he could feel his own magic surrounding him and why would he ever want to give that awareness up? His sensitivity to other's magic was also more obvious as he could tell who was in the dorm room and who had spells cast on their bed. The very thrumming of Hogwarts' magic could be felt and it was immense but strangely comforting.

Rising from his bed and parting the curtains, he noticed that everyone else was still asleep, just as he knew. He would take a shower and then the play would begin. Idly grabbing a clean uniform, he entered the bathroom.

Once he was washed and dressed, Harry re-entered the dorm room to find only Neville and Dean awake. They were the first ones up normally, so he wasn't surprised, but they were. Just smiling lightly and returning their shocked greetings, Harry grabbed his book bag and headed downstairs, slipping past the few early birds and a very studious Hermione.

Upon exiting the Common Room, he ran straight into Ginny. She eyed him slightly warily, but he just shrugged his shoulders at her scrutiny.

"Good morning, Ginny. I suppose you're returning from visiting your boyfriend?" His voice was calm because he had no upset feelings over her choosing a Slytherin. Any feelings for her had dissipated and he had to refrain from completely ignoring her. She could be useful in the future if he were in need as long as he supported her decisions now.

"G-good morning, Harry. Weren't you upset with my 'fraternizing with the enemy' as Ron so kindly put it," the red-haired girl asked, her voice strange. She seemed to be having trouble deciding whether she should shout and sneer or be calm about his change in behavior.

"The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin above all. That would be hypocritical if I shunned you for dating a Slytherin," Harry easily explained, smiling just slightly. Now he wished that he had accepted that decision. The influence would have kept him for running into danger ninety percent of the time. Regret was something he only felt briefly, though, and just like that the feeling was gone. Ginny nodded, seemingly in a daze. Returning the nod, he continued on his way.

The Great Hall was mostly empty, so he ate alone in silence. When most of the student population started entering, he quickly finished and left, unwilling to linger. Wandering, Harry found himself thinking about the Chamber of Secrets, where he found the ring. Logic had stated he probably shouldn't have picked it up, much less wear it, but he ignored those thoughts. There was nothing wrong, though, just heightened awareness of magic.

Then, like a bolt of lightening hit him, he collapsed, gasping for breath. Oh, the pleasure! It was all radiating from his scar. Somehow managing to turn himself on his back, he arched up, barely able to breathe. The feeling was as if the connection to Voldemort had been... inverted - the pleasure as intense as the pain had once been and, oh, how he didn't think anything could be better than this. As if sensing the challenge, he was pulled over the link into the embrace of the Dark Lord, who seemed just as surprised to have his arms full of a person as Harry was to be in someone's arms.

They stared at each other, barely daring to blink, and Harry was still shaking from pleasure, not realizing he hands were clenched in Voldemort's robes. The wizard was still as snaky as ever, but something about him wasn't as... intimidating or disturbing as before. Seeing his lack of fear, the Dark Lord's eye twitched and he reached for something in his robes.

"Don't you even think about using the Cruciatus curse on me lest you find yourself under its affects instead," Harry snarled, pulling Voldemort closer by the robes he held. He was surprised once again, raising an eyebrow at the Darkness he could sense from the boy who had once only shined with Light that was blinding in its intensity. Now he could feel the Darkness rolling off him in waves, along with the power that had always been his.

- Aaaaaaaaand that's all I'm writing for this unless I want to get stuck on it. With all the fics I already have up, I really can't take on another one.

AN: Ok, I thought I'd stick this out here and see what people said. I've had more people take up my Parseltongue!Harry challenge than reviewing my fics. #sniffle# They haven't gotten past the first few chapters, either. I have a few people listed as having taken it up, but I need to check and make sure I have all of them listed. Good grief.

Oh! And anybody who can tell me who the guests are gets a free cookie! XD They're from an old anime dealing with mobile suits.