Thank you everyone for the reviews and love for this dark tale. It seems this story has taken a life of its own. More chapters are coming out and demanding to give you more than the bare minimum I had planned it to be. The first story in this series was supposed to be ten chapters... now... it's growing unexpectedly. So if you crave more, want more, need more... let me know. Remember you're not only showering me with your praise, but also showing your adoration for the personalities being crafted under my fingertips.
Also, are there any artists out there? Would it be fun to have fanart? Check out my profile -where you can also see this story's path. Now, on with the story shall we?
Chapter Warnings: minor violence, self-mutilation
Enemy
He sits with his back straight, eyes trained at the far end of the Infirmary on a small and harmless crack above one of the windows. The sky is dark grey, a tint of ugly green to the thick clouds that flicker with lightening. A thunderstorm is approaching as the evening carries on. In the otherwise empty space, a different sort of silence has captured the motionless boy. Not the same nothingness from his previous nightmare, not consuming like that, but more of an absence of something...
Emerald irises recede into thin rings. Pupils grow to a unusual size, the black portals large and ominous. He continues to stare at that daunting crack that mirrors his own splitting soul.
-Harry...-
The Potter heir can't help but notice how incredibly bare Hogwarts' Infirmary is when there isn't the usual hustle and bustle of students milling about. All the curtains are pulled back and tied to the stone walls. Beds are made with crisp clean lines. The floors gleam from a coating of fresh wax. An overpowering scent of lemon disinfectant hangs in the air which mingles with the undertones of lilac sprayed linen.
So clean and perfect. Everything in their rightful order. Nothing out of place.
Except him...
-Harry... please.-
Fingers curl tightly, twisting the sheets. The flawless skin smooth and healthy as hands grope for a purchase in the bed covers. A ragged breath breaks free from him and eyes widen fractionally as his heart picks up speed.
Lightening flashes outside. Rain sprinkles against the glass panels and the clouds thicken. The natural battle of earth's elements of air and water continue. A similar war is raged beneath flesh and bone. Turmoil.
Determined, the youth stubbornly glares at the point on the far wall knowing full well he shouldn't be able to see without his glasses. Something isn't right. Questions are buoyed above the current of his quiet emotions. Those answers, he knows. He's sure he knows. Yet, to dive beneath the waters and search for them.
H-he...
-Harry... please. Where's Gemma Farley?-
He. Can't!
The scream that tears through the usually calm Infirmary, echoes off the vaulted ceiling. Madame Pomfrey shoots out of her seat in the small attached office. Gathering her skirts, the woman rushes into the hall where her only charge for the evening should be resting. Her orbs fall on the rigid form of young Potter, before she joins him at the bed. With her wand in hand she reaches out with the other, but the sudden physical contact upsets the child further.
Harry's wail turns into a shriek, reaching levels only an adolescent youth could hit. His limbs whip about, flailing as he throws himself back onto the bed. Features morph into a horrified expression. The boy withers on the mattress, ripping up the blankets and knocking the pillows to the floor.
"Potter!" The nurse weaves her wand. She tries to use a spell to determine the sort of seizure gripping the child, but then a chilling wave of terror runs down her spine when the young Slytherin turns on himself. Blood appears, teeth snapping and red smears across both arms.
The doors to the Infirmary open as two men enter, sharing a heated argument between them. Their conversation dies quickly as their attention snaps over to the disturbance.
Pomfrey's ashen face turns to them, grey hair askew and bloody streaks along her uniform. She's trying desperately to hold down a squirming form buckling with wild abandon. Her voice pierces through the ensnared duo. "Help me!"
The lull shatters and both males lunge forward across the room, boots pounding over the shining floor.
Crimson Auror robes sweep in as the taller man throws himself straight into the thick of things, using his body to push down the child. A howl of fury and fear, almost inhuman, causes him to flinch and bow a head of shaggy hair into the mattress. His stronger arms encircle the boy.
Professor Snape reaches the bed second, pulling back to cast his heavy gaze upon the situation with a detachment attained by hardened veterans. In a short slashing movement of his wrist, the wand unleashes a beam of pale light. Cloth bonds warp upward from the bed's frame and bind the student successfully.
Madame Pomfrey snatches up her wand from the floor and summons a Calming Draught. She has to push aside the Auror and get him to capture Potter's face as she administered the potion. There's an immediate effect.
The room's sound levels diminish into panting and gasps. Three pairs of eyes watch the steady rise and fall of the Slytherin's chest. Green orbs pin the ceiling with an emotionless stare.
The nurse uses a spell to coagulate the blood to stop the bleeding and slumps onto the chair stationed beside the bed.
"H-Harry?" A baritone voice calls out.
Nothing.
Handing the shaken woman a handkerchief, the Professor nudges the other man. "Move aside, Black."
A snarl leaves Sirius as he snaps at the other, "Stay back!"
Severus sneers in turn, wand hand itching to level a hex. Even his status as a renowned Potion Master and under Dumbledore's protection wouldn't stand up against Black's rank in the Ministry though. Pity, the man could use some sense forced painfully into that unruly mane.
"Auror Black, please."
Bewildered, Sirius glances at the nurse. He notices the slight quiver to her bony hand holding the handkerchief to her mouth and the blood soaking into her white front. Swallowing, the man turns to look down at his godson. So young. So fragile. His hand moves to rest at the hot skin of the boy's forehead. Slick with sweat, the man's palm pushes wet strands up and away to search those unblinking orbs. It's unnatural. It's unnerving... the cupid face of porcelain smeared with blood. Why? "Harry?"
No answer.
This time Sirius steps back as his boyhood rival shoves him aside. He turns to the nurse, "What happened?"
"He..." She bows her head to steel her nerves. "He started screaming. I came in to find him... trying to tear the meat off his arms."
The crackling of thunder causes Sirius' muscles to contract. His jaw tightens as he looks to the boy. "Is this from his illness or... the reason why he's bedridden?"
"Did the Headmaster..."
"He didn't say anything. Just sent a formal letter that Harry was here."
"Where is his father?" Professor Snape's words cut into the conversation like a hot knife. Focused intently on diagnosing the reason for the sudden fit, his attention wavers dangerously to an old hate that's stayed with him since before graduation.
"James couldn't make it..." A scoff makes Sirius growl in ire. "I came in his stead. So what's going on? What's happened to my godson?"
Madame Pomfrey takes a deep breath. "This morning, two students came up missing at breakfast."
The Auror's eyebrows furrow. "Missing? Was one-"
"Yes, Harry Potter. Along with him, Gemma Farley, a Prefect disappeared." The Head of House grinds out. Irritated that he was given instructions to give the man such details. "As students to my House, I hunted the whole grounds along with the search party and was only able to find Mr. Potter."
"And the other student?" Fists clench and release as his instincts begin to kick in, telling him something wrong and sinister has happened. One can't blame the pessimistic side of oneself when it's born from training as an Auror.
"She wasn't found," The nurse fretted, "No one knows where she went."
"Wrong. There is one person who knows."
Realization dawns. "You mean, Harry?"
"Mr. Filch reported hearing two children out of bed and on the Seventh Floor before disappearing."
"You're going to believe that-"
"A student came forward to enlighten me on the subject. It seems Mr. Potter was in the process of House initiation."
Sirius makes a disgusted face. Slytherin traditions ruffle him the wrong way. Students wanting to put themselves through a form of hazing just to get a bit of notary. It pains him to know that Harry would want to go through something like that. "Who's this witness?"
The guarded man glowers back refusing to say Draco Malfoy's name. He moves on instead, "Miss Farley was out patrolling the halls."
"Did she do this?"
"Highly unlikely."
"Then who?" The demand bounces off the walls and escapes as one of the main doors open unnoticed by the others.
"An intruder."
The adults turn to witness the Headmaster entering.
Sirius is instantly alarmed, defenses rising into place. "An intruder? In Hogwarts?"
"Indeed." The ancient man in yellow custard robes glides to the group with purple shoes curled at the tips. Blue orbs land on the Potter heir and crinkle in sympathy. The Headmaster looks to the Professor with a questioning gaze.
"He's suffered an extreme anxiety attack. His brain activity is below normal levels."
"What?! Is he going to fall into a coma?"
"Calm yourself, Black."
"The mind is an interesting and delicate thing." Dumbledore sighs aloud. "But it's also very strong."
Snape scrutinizes the contradicting man for a moment, wondering if the bearded Headmaster knows something that's not being shared. He wouldn't put it past the elder. "It seems Potter's mind is trying to fill in the gaps of recent events. In vain, unfortunately."
"Why? What's happening?!" Sirius hisses in a fierce whisper.
"He's been Imperio'd."
The Auror sucks in a breath of surprise and whips around to confirm it with the Headmaster.
A look of pain crosses the man's face. "So it seems."
"Some of his memories are missing as well." Snape continues, ignoring the violent tremble rising in the Auror. "Basically the events of last night. We cannot bring them out of the boy without upsetting him further."
"Sirius..." Dumbledore rests a weary hand on the man's shoulder. "Please. We need someone to investigate into this situation."
"I-I understand." He takes a deep breath. 'Harry is okay. Harry is going to be fine.' "I'll do everything I can to catch this intruder."
"Discreetly, Sirius..." The Headmaster tightens his hold. "Gemma's Aunt and Uncle have been informed of her disappearance. I must meet with them soon, but for now we can't have this out."
"You should be sending the students home!" Madame Pomfrey stands from her chair, outraged.
"I agree." Is the Potion's Professor's only input.
"I understand your fears. Yet, if we were to evacuate now, that will only make our assailant retaliate with force."
"It's true..." Sirius adds. "If the student is being used as a captive, the intrude might... Dumbledore, do I have your permission to begin searching?"
"You do."
Hesitating, the Auror looks over his shoulder longingly at his godson. "When he's..."
"We'll send for you. There is already a request for Potter's personal Healer to arrive. Is Mr. Potter on the way?"
"Er, soon... He was caught up in a case."
Severus Snape folds his arms with a steady intake of breath, biting his tongue. There are many things he wishes to say, but the warning in the Headmaster's flickering orbs wards him off. He watches Sirius Black leave. The school nurse fidgets before clamoring away in the process of charting Potter's progress and lining up some potions for the boy to take, leaving him alone with Dumbledore.
"Severus..."
Knuckles whiten as his fingers grip his wand, the end tapping impatiently.
"I need you to keep a very close eye on him."
The tapping ceases as onyx irises search blue, Occlumency and Legilimency clashing. "You mean, Quirrell."
A slight nod of the head to the statement. Knowledge passes between them. The obvious threat in the form of a Professor, now though... there must be another passing along the halls. They will need to split their forces to catch both enemies in the act.
"Very well." Deep rage boils just under his skin. Voldemort. There could be no other intruder. Already sightings of the wraith has been seen drinking unicorn blood in the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore has suspicions and so does Snape. How dare that monster touch Lily's child! The boundaries need to be properly set. Blackened robes billow like a great sail as Professor Snape moves out, jaw set and anger simmering in almost an identical version as Auror Black. Although, his sights are set on someone in particular, the sputtering fake Quirrell. Halloween is almost upon them and he's sure the Dark Lord's servant will make a move for the Philosopher's Stone. 'I hope that scum tries it.'
Dumbledore stands as the center of Hogwarts core. The Light Lord, an unmoving stone of defense as thunder booms and lightening crackles above the school.
The game has begun: A Pawn has been taken off the table. A King was close to checkmate. Now both Knights move forward to take on the enemy's forces. What will be the next move? And why does he feel that Voldemort isn't the true foe sitting in the opponent's chair anymore?
The Headmaster's fingertips touches the end of Potter's bed. He had never spoken with the boy until that afternoon. The boy's broken father been adamant about staying away from the Order of the Phoenix after Lily's death. Sorrowfully, the elder feels for the Potter family. Torn apart and lost. Both males circling each other like distant stars set on a course of collision. From the outside looking in, he has been watching father and son dance a dangerous game of unspoken yearning and bitterness towards each other.
This child, cursed by the last known Dark Lord... Hurt. Angry. Starving. The similarities between Harry and Tom are far too similar for comfort. Surely the prophecy didn't mean for this? This is far too much for a boy to endure, Chosen One or not. 'Something has gone wrong...'
"Harry... What will become of you?"
End Chapter.
