Possession

Harry sat down at the table, he meant to take a deep breath to calm himself, but only managed to draw in a shaky one due to the fact that even his lungs felt constricted from being trapped.

He poised the quill pen over the parchment paper, before he could write anything, a drop of ink landed on the paper. Frustration sparked inside him as he noticed his right hand shaking.

Abruptly, he crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it behind him.

Harry closed his eyes and reprimanded himself for his lack of focus. When he opened them again, he found himself having just enough control of his body to begin his last letter addressed to Dumbledore.

He had meant to inform the Order that Voldemort was able to use his body when he was unconscious, but his hand has started shaking again, and his frantic scrawling only came out as HELP ME! I'M TRAPPED! SAVE ME! ...

Harry forced his hand away from the parchment paper and stared at his own words in disbelief. Once again he balled up the paper and threw it aside. He frowned as his checked how many sheets of paper did he have left.

Five, which means he should seriously stop messing up, but he had so much he wanted to say.

He wanted to tell Ron and Hermione that they are the best people he ever met, but winced at how cheesy it made him sound.

He wanted to tell Dumbledore sorry for not being able to complete the Prophesy and stop the reign of the Dark Lord... A hard lump formed in his throat. No... no... he must ignore the heavy feeling in his chest lest he... he...

Harry could feel his fingers digging into his palm as he tried to forget his earlier thought. He let his eyes wander his luxurious prison to get back into focus.

Once he felt he could trust his hand again, he started a new letter. This time he managed to briefly explained his conditions and warned the Order to treat him as Voldemort. Now...

Harry raised his head when he heard a soft rustling. A snowy white owl perched on his window ledge, Harry petted the animal affectionately, but the next second, his fingers tightened around the owl's neck. Hedwig struggled, she pecked at his fingers and gave out agonized cries.

"No!" Harry screamed. Willing for his fingers to let go, but they were numb and frozen. His arms were also stiff, they held the bird outside the window.

Harry watched in horror as his fingers continued to choke Hedwig. Eventually, the bird ceased to move. Harry let out a strangled noise himself.

He jumped back, Hedwig's corpse slipped out of his fingers.

It was as if his mind has receded into some distant part of his brain, Harry watched rigidly as the corpse of his beloved owl dropped to the ground below - the only white spot that stood out from the greyness outside.

It took Harry a while to get back to reality. When he did, he did the first thing that came to mind: He tried to fling himself out the window, but his fingers gripped the window ledge tightly, stopping him.

Now, now, we wouldn't want that. Harry jumped when he heard a drawl.

"Voldemort!" His head whipped around as he searched for the source of the voice frantically.

Don't bother, I'm in your head, my little horcrux.

"Horcrux?" He echoed, his jaw slacked open as his brain tried to find another possible meaning to the words spoken to him pathetically.

Ah, Harry, you have a piece of my soul in you, imagine my surprise when I discovered it! The amused voice continued in his head.

"I don't want anything belonging to you." He answered stiffly. The voice chuckled.

Did you not refer to Lucius as your follower? Voldemort asked suddenly.

"No!" Harry did not know where Voldemort was going. He hated amusing the other with his reaction, but he had to deny that claim, how ridiculous-

Did you not treat my Death Eaters as your servants? Did you not relish in their suffering?

Ruthlessly, the Dark Lord continued on, his voice filled with smugness and mockery.

Harry spluttered, though he wanted to argue otherwise, he found himself unable to refute any of the things Voldemort had said.

An image of a horrified Death Eaters' faces lit up by a sickly green light filled his head.

Harry could hear Bellatrix Lestrange's scream, so real it was almost as if he had went back in time to stand before the witch as she laid squirming on the floor that day.

All those times... he could not help but feel a tinge of satisfaction when he reasoned that the Death Eaters are finally getting what they deserved...

Harry dropped to his knees. Patches of green filled his vision, not enough air was getting to his lungs.

"No..." Clutching his head, Harry whimpered as cruel laugh seemed to resonate from all directions.

Everything I own are yours. You are me, Harry, it's your rightful power.

Then the world dissolved into darkness, but right before he completely lost touch with reality, Harry could faintly make out a small creak as the door to his chamber opened.

A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing! Yup, I'm a nasty person. Every time something nice happens, a horrible event is waiting around the corner. :P