Disclaimer: I watch Heroes. I am a scifi geek. Harry Potter is not mine. I think pirates are cooler than ninjas.
Chapter Four
Non:Boy
Two months.
Harry stared at the calendar on his wall.
Two months.
He was sick of it. Hatred rose in him until he couldn't trust himself to speak in Voldemort's presence. Else he'd get a crucio or something worse. That night had really freaked him out, like it was suppose to he figured. Voldemort was psychotic; he might go through with it, he might not. But there hadn't been a repeat incident, mainly because Harry hadn't given reason for it.
But never doubt that for Harry, it can always get worse.
At least that's what he told himself as he walked down the corridor. Perhaps if he truly believed it, the accident would never have happened. But it did.
An explosion came from the wall beside him. Harry was thrown across the corridor, rubble falling on him. It was Voldemort's potion lab. Cauldrons fell over, and potions mixed, and they fell upon the unconscious Harry Potter.
****
Voldemort had immediately taken Harry to the medical room. It was a small room, meant for himself and a special few. It held all the healing potions, and he was going to need them.
He decided to ignore the most obvious problem.
He began to heal the injuries, concussion, broken arm, scraps and whatnot. That was easily fixed. Then he collected a sample of the potion mixture from the corridor and started to analyse it. He had checked Harry's condition; it was stable.
Now he just had to figure out what Harry's condition was. He seemed to have aged.
Backwards.
If he were going to make a guess he would say Harry was five or six years old. He still looked the same, and the horcrux was secure. Very resilient. Everything was fine, but he was a child.
He supposed there was nothing else to do but wait for him to wake. It was the only way to gauge his condition. So he drew up a chair and waited. He slowly pondered what he would do in each case scenario. If he retained all his memories of being a teenager, he supposed the best thing to do was fix it and get him back to his original age.
But if he didn't have his memories… It would be easier. He could raise him to be loyal, or get someone else to. Or simply send him away somewhere. Out of the way, out of trouble.
Voldemort snorted at that one. This boy attracted more trouble then honey flies.
So either way the boy was staying here.
Argh! If the boy had forgotten everything, he'd have to learn everything again. Spells and –
Wait no. People with amnesia still remembered how to talk so perhaps... Voldemort shook his head. He was going to have to do some research.
The boy started to shake, tossing and turning. A bad dream? Voldemort was on his feet and by the bedside in an instant.
He shot up and curled up into a ball, sobbing.
"Shh," said Voldemort gingerly placing a hand on Harry's back. "You're safe here."
"It was so dark," Harry sniffled. His voice small and high pitch. Exactly like a child's voice. Voldemort sat down next to him and placed his arm around him.
"It's nice and bright here," he said. Voldemort grimaced. Nice and bright? He wasn't very good at this. He was momentarily startled when the child burrowed himself into Voldemort's side.
"Do you know who I am?" Voldemort asked quietly.
"Yuh huh. You're Voldemort."
Voldemort frowned. "That's right," he said keeping his voice light. "What else do you remember?"
The child shrugged. "It feels long ago. Kinda fuzzy," he said sitting up and frowning. "Where's this?" he asked looking around the room.
"This is a medical room. You were hurt, so I brought you here."
"Oh. So I'm not well?" he asked frowning.
"Well... not exactly," Voldemort said frowning.
"Can I have ice-cream?" he asked with a big smile.
"What?" Voldemort snapped.
The boy withdrew a bit. "Cause I'm not well. When... Dudley wasn't well, he got lots of ice-cream," he said softly.
Voldemort stared at him for a moment. He remembered who he was, and his cousin. Probably everything, but he just didn't... care?
Of course, he had a child mentality. He would see like a child, think like a child... Trust like a child?
"Then you can have ice-cream," Voldemort said. "Just let me -"
"Ice-cream please!"
Voldemort stared at the child as a bowl of strawberry ice-cream appeared in his hands, along with a spoon and a napkin.
"Thank you!"
The magic in the house seemed to buzz a little. Like a 'you're welcome'. But Voldemort was more impressed that Harry had thought to do that; he had never done that before.
This... This was an intresting developement.
Look at that. I got the reviews and the chappie came out.
Now a few of you complain that the whole holding my chapters 'hostage' thing (lol to WalterDash for coining that expression) is unfair, but it'll work. The thing with me is that I'm EXTREMLY lazy. But I keep my promises, so if I say I'm going to update after a certain amout of reviews, I'll feel obligated to keep that promise.
Now a few shout outs to reviewers:
CatWriter: So off the bat, and yet so completely encouraging, Thank you. Write ur own little fic. Trust me when I say everything you've written will not happen in this story. Except that mimic thing, you might see that kick in somewhere in my writings...
Walter Dash, your secret's safe with me ;)
BrookMcTirre: Ahh! Your review got cut off! Thanks for the grammar stuff. I - and when I say I, I really mean someone else, will fix it as I go along. One must remember this site is here to help young writer grow as well as show off. I know my style is a little jarring. I write what I see and sometimes the words don't flow. It'll get better! I know about story alerts and blah blah, but as you'll see above, I'm very lazy. I need the promise to keep me obligated. Love!
All my other reviewers, thank you. You've made this chappi possible! Literally... :P
So eight reviews - and new rule again. I'm putting two days inbetween updates otherwise ppl won't get a chance to ponder over it!
Lurve!
Tata!
Tinks