Disclaimer: I don't imagine that someone who believes that behind every event is a conspiracy owns Harry Potter.
Disclaim her: Reality can be painful, but it's something that you must learn to accept.
Note: Out of character with: Harry, Neville, Severus, Lucius, and Voldemort…
Rating: M for Mature. (throws candy at a distance) Look, it's candy! Go get it and leave this place!
Point of View: First.
"speech" thoughts and/or mind speech (Harry and Voldemort) Parseltongue
I do not own the quote below.
A/N: If you can't be yourself, then you don't deserve to be anyone.
Chapter 25: Escape
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"I'd say take me to the top step if you would like to do something properly." I reply in a forced tone as the pain within my chest increases and I have the sudden urge to retch.
"You're pathetic," He says in a disgusted tone and he leaves me to continue up the stairwell.
I smile vaguely as he walks away and slide down till I meet the steps. As I lean against the railing, I find that when I am concentrating on nothing that the pain actually increases.
I don't want to be here…
Stop complaining about it and go back if being here bothers you so much.
I don't want to feel anymore. It just hurts too much. I'm…I'm such a fool. I always do things that cause me to…I try…but I…
I should never have come back!
I laugh to myself, hysteria bordering the blank sound, and pull my wand from my robes with a flourish. With movements so deft, I know they could not possibly be my own, I slash down my front and feel light pain as I tear through the skin of my chest.
I can feel my pulse beating rapidly in my throat and a sticky wetness covers my fingers, but I do not stop till I plunge my good hand into my torso and begin to move it around in search for my soul. I know it's still here because I am feeling pain.
And then my clumsy fingers meet something very warm yet very cold. It's solid, yet it has no form. I feel pain in this contact with the thing that enables me to function properly but at the same time nothing at all. I want to cry but scream in ecstasy as well.
I force my hand to pull this thing that is anchoring me to consciousness out of my bloody and ghastly insides while my mind begins to shriek and shriek at me to stop and to just let go of my poor, ravaged soul. It screams and pleads with me to just let go because don't I know nothing of what will happen to me if I continue?
Oh, but I do, that's the whole point.
I blink at the somewhat familiar voice but the soul grasped within my fingers has almost met the unclean air of death of the pure and I thus pay no further attention to that vaguely comprehendible voice of my memories. My fingers tighten around this thing that is the key to my essence and it begins to take a strain on the very core of my mind and a battle wages with my consciousness for me to remove my battered and chipped soul.
But then I'm shaken out of my stupor as someone pulls my fingers harshly from my torso. A familiar brand of magic echoes moments later as my chest is then healed.
"Why do you do these things?! I told you again and again that it would get you nowhere!"
"Go away Severus."
"No, you're going home."
"Home?" I ask slowly; the thought is exceptionally vague.
"To him."
"No, let me go. I just want…"
"Him? Yes, I know," he replies impatiently. "Now come with me."
"Stop it."
"No. Someone needs to tell you to fucking stop. You're going to kill yourself if you continue on like this."
"What if I want to die?" I inquire lightly and his grip tightens on my arm as he helps me up.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Everyone has just about had it with your behavior and all he does is put up with it. It's sickening." He states sharply and with his help, I find that I am able to stand. This is certainly a turn of events. "Come on."
"I said that I don't want to go."
"Then why aren't you trying to get away from me?" There is a short silence. Emptiness reverberates where my magic should be, and now that I've discontinued my self-mutilation, the ache in my chest returns and redoubles in its fury. "That's what I thought."
I lift my head and find that we are at the door of his office. That much time could not have passed without my knowing. What the hell?
"Riddle Manor." He says as he throws a handful of that despicable dust into the flames. I hate the Floo.
…
I tumble ungracefully out of the fireplace and Severus stumbles after me as well in his ill state but manages to grasp the mantelpiece just before he nearly falls to the floor.
"Are you all right Severus?" A voice asks behind me.
"Yes, I'm fine, Lucius. You don't have to worry so much."
I turn and find Lucius looking from Severus to me. The expression of anxiety does not leave his features through the process.
"I have to get back to the school."
"Go then, but remember-"
"I'll be fine," Severus says as he interrupts Lucius abruptly and the flames in the fireplace mount high as he leaves.
Lucius turns to me. "You're not going back."
I say nothing as I lean onto the back of a chair to support myself. Lucius is splitting into forms just as Severus was…and I feel as if I'm going to retch. I wish I could just crawl into a hole and never see daylight again.
"He's not here right now, but he will be back soon."
"And?" I ask dully without any real concern.
"I just thought that you would like to know."
At these words, the man comes over to where I stand and lifts me easily into his arms without even trying to get me to walk.
"It's time for you to sleep."
"I did earlier." I hear myself replying quietly and he gives an exasperated sigh.
"Fine, you don't have to sleep, but you will rest." Lucius mutters as he sets me down in the Dark Lord's bed. How…did I get here…?
I say nothing in reply and my mind cackles to itself.
"Please…"
"Yes, Lucius?"
"Never mind." He murmurs as he pulls the glasses from my face. "I love you dear."
"Yes…I know."
"I'll see you later Harry, all right?"
"…Okay."
…
How long has it been since I first laid here? I can't remember. My sight has been lost in the pattern on the canopy above me and maybe I've thrown myself into delirium as a result. My magic…I can't feel anything. It's all gone…
A part of my mind gives me a flicker of recognition in the attempt to attract my attention, and so it is then I remember why I snapped into awareness a few moments ago.
He's back.
The door swings open and I want to rise, but I find that I cannot move. A thought flits lazily through my head suggesting that I say something.
"I thought you wanted to be at school." He says quietly and a pain shoots through my skull this time around. What the-?
"I'm…not going back."
"Why?"
"Because I'm tired."
"You know that's not really an excuse." He replies in a soft tone and it is a wonder that I can hear his voice from across the room. From where I lay on the upraised pillows, I watch, without wondering why I can see without my glasses, as he sheds his outer robes which are splattered with some kind of dark substance and which I know is blood.
"Where did you go?" I find myself asking, not wanting to start any kind of argument in the state I am in, and not wanting anything for that matter.
"Does it really matter?"
"No."
"Then it doesn't matter." He replies as he strips off the rest of his clothes until he reaches his boxers. "Did you bathe?"
"No…"
"Why not?"
"I can't," I hear myself replying. I can't force any part of myself to move. "My magic…"
"What happened?" He inquires tonelessly as he approaches me. His eyes are indifferent as I meet his gaze and I know that mine mirror his perfectly.
"…I was just stupid." I finally whisper.
"Lord knows you have been." He sighs. "I would like it if you showered. You smell like blood."
"All right." I hear myself replying, and he gently pulls me from the bed and carries me into the master bathroom. I don't resist in any particular way and thus, I find it is better this way. He sets me on the counter, and I rest my head on the wall at my back as I watch him heat the water. He returns to me and pulls me to him so my head rests on his shoulder and in turn begins to undress me.
I've not the energy to say anything in protest.
You weren't going to protest even if you could.
He somehow removes the rest of his clothes along with my own while he maintains a semi-firm grip on me. The Dark Lord then pulls me into the shower and the very hot water startles me though my reflexes won't respond.
"We're showering…together…?"
"Yes. Does it trouble you that much?"
I say nothing and let him balance me so I am leaning face first into his chest. He then proceeds to wash my back and I close my eyes from the relaxing feeling that begins to spread through my limbs.
"Are you sleeping?" He asks and he runs a hand down my cheek. Seconds pass and the only sound is of the running water.
"…No," I murmur softly though I want to say yes. He's putting me to sleep without meaning to.
"You don't mind this?"
"…No." Does he need to ask when he already knows the answer?
"Because you're so tired and not thinking straight?"
"…Maybe, but I don't…think that's why." He cleans lower on my body and if I was mentally intact, I might have protested. But as I never really was, I don't.
He washes my hair and I want to say something to him, even though I find I can't, because I…like this.
"Am I really…so inept?" I ask and he doesn't even pause for an answer.
"No." Minutes tick by and a stray thought cuts across my lethargy. I wish I could-
"You're all clean now. Give me a few minutes for myself and I'll be done, all right?"
I mumble something that I don't even recognize against his shoulder and I suppose he is finishing cleansing his own body. I am very…tired…without my magic to help support me.
The water is turned off and I feel myself being lifted once more. In some sense, I feel as if I'm bending over as he begins to towel me off as one would a young child so I open my eyes and find that I'm leaning into the crook of his arm. The Dark Lord then wraps a large new towel around my slight frame and sets me on the countertop as before.
I watch him as if from far away as he dries himself off with his back to me. His skin is so very pale and his body is slender, though not in my sickly sort of thin from what I can tell now that I'm actually looking at him. I probably shouldn't, yet I am.
You know he knows.
He turns his head a little, almost as if he knows exactly what I'm doing but says nothing as he fixes a towel across his waist. He turns toward me and then carries me out into the bedroom once more and settles me on the bed. I'm leaning against one of the bedposts without any intention at all and would have otherwise fallen over without the assistance in keeping up my posture.
He returns with clothes in his arms and I merely blink up at him; he must know I cannot dress myself. And so, he proceeds to dress me. The task could be considered extremely laborious as I cannot move an inch to save my life, but he goes about the entire task in a painstakingly gentle way that makes me feel guilty about just sitting in front of him. Merlin help me because I don't deserve anyone, least of all him.
So, you've finally gotten over yourself have you? And it took you how long?
"You're wrong; I don't deserve you."
And yet again, I say nothing in reply. What could I say even if I did have the energy to speak?
Nothing, nothing at all.
Laughter is soft against the edges of my mind and I cannot push it down no matter what I try.
"You…." The conversations we have are so familiar that they have embedded their selves into the back of my thoughts. But this time they will take a different turn…I hope.
"I won't. Trust me."
I should. It would make everything better…and I know I want everything to be better. To resist is to be stupid, which I am but do not seek to be.
Then say you will.
"I'll withdraw your enrollment in the morning. Will you please sleep now?"
…It's all gone…all gone…all…gone…
"Harry?"
I turn my gaze to where he stands over me and I blink blankly. What?
"Are you all right…?" His eyes are flat with nothing concealed in the depths. Am I losing myself again? I…What has happened…? I don't…
"Just sleep," He murmurs as he retreats from me and then returns a few minutes later clothed.
He slides underneath the blankets fluidly taking myself along with him and settles me against his body while his arm encircles my waist. My eyes slip shut out of their own accord and it is then that I realize, even though the thought is far off, that yes, I do feel…safe.
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Gone…gone…gone…I still…have no magical energy. That's so…depressing. Laughter pitches off the edges of my sanity and I've come across a fond wish to cry in all my pathetic glory. It's still all gone. Now I know I am nothing.
"Go back to sleep," his voice comes from somewhere above my shoulder and is slurred with sleep.
"I can't," I hear myself saying with hysteria nearly boarding my cracked voice. Why do I want to cry? I don't want to be weak.
Yet you are.
"I told you…" his arm around me tightens a little. "…that nothing was going to happen to you. You're safe."
"This doesn't feel right. What have you done to me…?!" I cannot force out enough emotion to emphasize my rootless panic.
"You don't believe that you are awake," He states disbelievingly.
"Give me a reason as to why because…every time I do come to grips in what I believe is actual consciousness, I come to face with yet another hallucination.
"You're not imagining this."
How would he know? He isn't in my mind twenty-four hours of the day. "…I don't know what to believe anymore. Tell me what I should. Help me like you said you would." My voice cracks and I push hard on my ability to move as I brings my knees to my chest. Sobs nearly force their way out of the gaps of my fingers that I now hold to my face.
"But you said…you said you wanted to be…independent." Voldemort's voice is far away, and the weight on the bed shifts as he moves, but it is not away from me; I can still feel his fingers splayed across my stomach from the arm that is around my waist.
"You know I'm chock full of nothing. You…know I-!"
He interrupts me solidly, but his voice is low and nearly neighboring on sad while his breath makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. "And you know that you're not ready to admit those kinds of things."
"Don't let me go back. Please. I have serious…problems…just…" There are distant murmurs in the back of the dead thoughts about my sanity but I shove them down.
"Why should I stop you?" He asks slowly, and at this time it is his voice that splinters.
"Because you care about me." I reply with the words muffled through my hands.
I so tired of being knocked around like I'm just an object. I'm just so…tired.
Are those his…thoughts? I don't remember…being in his…mind…
"Why do I? Will you tell me?" He asks, and the words are drawn out to a drastic extent.
"You care…because…you choose to. And I've-"
"You don't have to pity me. I know the truth…and it's okay. I'll stop. I should have known that it would be fruitless, yet I continued to try."
"But-"
"Please stop. I don't want to hear anymore."
I raise my head from my knees and find the familiar pain that abandoned me once we made contact with each other has returned and now throbs within my chest softly. I want to say something to…ease him? But I caused this, so there's nothing I can say.
"Tom…"
"…What is it?"
"I'm sorry." I hear myself saying and I force what's become of my body to turn over so I am facing him. The soft laugh that comes from his throat is broken and distressed. It is only now that I am facing him that I see a tear streak a measured trail down his pale skin.
"It's too late for that. Surely you must have realized-?" My head falls against his chest and it there I can hear his heart beating rapidly.
"Why are you crying?" I hear myself asking quietly and the moment my words meet the air they sound foolish.
"…You have to ask?" He turns just a little and his eyes meet mine, but it isn't his eyes that I see looking back at me; they're mine. "Don't look so sad. You knew all along."
"This is wrong…you shouldn't be giving up like this."
"…Why shouldn't I? You expected me to go on like this forever? I don't…"
…want to feel like nothing anymore.
He smiles crookedly at me and I want nothing more than to- "…Please stop crying," I hear myself saying and I finally break away from listening to the only thing that really represents his life and look up at him.
"It bothers you that I can feel just the same as you do?" He asks, and his essence pulls into itself and shuts itself away.
"…I just don't like it."
"You're lying; the truth is you feel guilty for treating me the way you have for all this time."
"…I just don't like it." I repeat and my fingers clutch at my side.
"And you want to say something to make me feel better when you know there's nothing to be said." It is then that I feel a different magic tremble shortly in the air.
"I told you, I just don't like it!" My voice rises to a yell, the pain in my chest increases, and I draw my head up sharply to look up at him; his gaze is somewhere far off.
"Why do you insist on lying when you have nothing to gain?" His voice cracks and his Glamour abruptly quivers for a few whole seconds. It's his magic? "Go away. I don't want…"
"I'm not going to leave."
"Please, just go."
"No, I won't."
"This isn't the time to be stubborn. Please, go."
"NO!"
He sits up so fast his body becomes a blur to my line of sight. His face has warped into an expression that is unrecognizable, and I lay where I am with fear bound into my core.
"Didn't you hear me correctly?! I said leave! Get the hell out of my room! I don't want to see your face again!" He arms snakes out sharply and he grasps my wrist firmly and nearly throws me directly onto the floor. There is no pain as I hit the ground though I know for a fact that it should hurt. We've gone through this before…but now I don't know what the outcome will be. The Dark Lord's Glamour shakes again for a frighteningly few seconds and he looks just about ready to Crucio me until I reach my end.
"I'm not leaving!"
"Yes you will!" He yanks out his wand and it shakes as he points it directly at my heart. "Get out of here and leave me alone! I don't…want to do this anymore! I hate…the things you do to me!" His voice unexpectedly breaks, and his arm falls to his side while his wand slips from his hand and hits the floor. The Dark Lord falls to his knees sobbing brokenly and crumples down.
Do something!
From where I lie broken and lifeless on my side, I watch as he cries and cries like a child, as if he hasn't broken down so completely like this ever before. Did I really cause this? Deep down…I know the answer.
You did.
I kick my senses repeatedly in order to get them into motion and want to scream in anger in the time it takes me to sit up like a normal person. I half crawl-half slide myself over to the Dark Lord's side and he inhales desperately in a devastated manner while continuing his anguish. He knows I am right there beside him. "Leave me alone."
"No. You…you need me…and…and I need…I need you."
He chokes on part of his next sob and lets out an inhuman wail. "You're lying!"
"No…I'm not…I'm really…not." For once…I'm not…but knowing this doesn't make me feel any better all the same. I still made him…cry.
"You think it's funny when you play with someone's emotions like this? Damn it, just leave me-!"
"Shut up! Just shut up!"
My fingers meet his thigh. He's so cold, even through the cloth.
"…Stop it…stop…please…stop…" he moans through his fingers.
My left arm shakes as it touches his arm and he flinches in the exact manner that I do from your touch. I fingers close on his forearm and I find that the room has become oddly silent: he's stopped crying.
His entire frame tenses and he chokes distraughtly as my other arm slowly begins to pull his arm from his face. The Dark Lord pulls without much effort from my grip but I find that I actually don't, and possibly don't want to, let go. His other hand falls from his face and I stare up at him and watch as another tear slides down his cheek.
I desperately need my little remaining of what could never be called strength to stay for everything to not come crashing down from the heavens and asphyxiate me. Just awhile longer and then, I can fade because I think my magic was the only thing really keeping me here in the first place.
My hand shakes as I reach up and touch his face. My fingers tremble and he gives a weak sort of moan as if in agony as I make contact with his skin. He's so cold.
"Don't cry anymore…please…don't. I really…don't like it…it makes me…" His ruby eyes flicker off away from me though I know without a doubt that he's listening to my words. "…it makes me………sad." I whisper and my hand drops from his cheek and hits his lap.
Weakling, tell him what you really want to say.
"I just want you…to know that…I do…need you."
"…………why did it take you so long…just to say that…to me…?" he asks hoarsely.
"………………I was…………………..afraid……of what might happen…" I whisper almost inaudibly.
He chuckles faintly as he turns to face me with eyes and face blank as stone. The only thing that betrays him is another streaking tear flying down his skin. "You're lying."
I'm not, I whisper in my mind and the words echo anxiously off the corners of my mind as I send the words to him.
"That's all you know how to do, isn't it? Is it because no one loves you?" His voice is cracked but it is still mocking.
"I am loved!" My voice won't rise to a yell so it merely sounds uneasy.
"We've been over this before. You know for a fact that you've never been loved."
"Lucius loves me!"
"What he feels for you is not love; it's just pity for a useless little boy who can't care for himself. Your godfather, that was who you were going to say next, weren't you, well he doesn't love you either. He just looks out for your well being from guilt of your father's death."
I watch as he looks down at his lap to where my hand lies half curled and then as his arm slowly moves to his lap and he places his hand over mine. Ice seeps through my motionless fingers, but I haven't the energy to complete a reflexive flinch. "No one loves poor Harry Potter." His fingers grasp my own tightly, as tight as it would take to crush the bone as I did to Hermione. The circulation passes away from my hand and lightheadedness touches me on the shoulder seconds later.
Tears gather in my eyes, and pain shoots into my skull and through my chest in such a simultaneous, flawless movement it takes me minutes to regain my state of mind. Oh lord that hurts. A faint cry emits from my lips as the pain assaults me once more and I feel myself hit the ground with thump as I fall on my side. The Dark Lord's grip on my hand tightens even more if that were possible.
"And subconsciously, you wanted me to love you. That's why you wouldn't admit anything to me. It's because you couldn't face the possibility of rejection again. You try to play it off as if it doesn't bother you, but that's the only thing that will really give you a blow to the core, won't it?" His grip leaves my hand but I don't feel the circulation return.
My sight blurs with tears, but unconsciousness dangles just beyond my reach. My eyes try to seek out where he could possibly be, but that question disappears as his face suddenly appears before my line of sight.
The Dark Lord turns me on my back and as then abruptly presses his lips to mine while I find myself beginning cry against him in pathetic, stupid sobs that he won't let me take breath for.
God I hate the way you make me feel,he says in my mind and splintering pain crashes into my mind after the words making me numb in the daze that follows. I forget to breathe.
Does it matter? You said you wanted to die, he says mockingly. I watch as he draws up from me and one of his tears splatters onto my cheek.
Pain thunders into my mind and pierces my chest once more and I find myself unable to react. All I can do is bask in the glory that is agony. It is then that I feel icy fingers grasp my neck and squeeze as hard as would be considered I did to Neville.
My eyes follow his and I watch as he pulls his hands from my neck and begins to unbutton my pajama top from the bottom up with the most delicate of care. When he reaches the top, he leans in next to my ear. "Nobody loves my little boy. Isn't that just the saddest thing you ever did hear?"
My lungs fill with beautiful air as I begin to sob quietly. I know what's to happen, and I can't prevent this is in any way; I have neither energy nor magic. The pain that reverberates every few seconds off my soul and mind hurts like nothing I've ever had the chance to experience. It hurts even more than the soul penetration that he did.
"But I love you. I love my useless, wretched, desecrated, boy." His cold, miserable laughter filters through my ear and I feel a weight hit the floor next to me. "But he doesn't love me." Voldemort's voice drops so it is barely audible.
I shift my line of sight to my right, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his ruby eyes meet my gaze. Pain breaks into me again and again and my concentration shatters for the millionth time in a minute.
"What's become of us? Tell me, because I don't know."
Do you really…love me?
"Of course. Why should I not?"
After…everything?
"Why not? I have nothing else."
I'm afraid.
"You don't need to be."
I…need you. Please don't leave me.
I told you I never was. All you have to do is trust me.
I'm afraid of placing my trust in people because it hurts when it's broken.
I could scream in this pain that afflicts me in places that do not exist. But I can't. Laughter rebounds off the borders of my fragmented remaining good sense and his mind intertwines with mine in what could be considered a gesture of comfort. I suppose he can't feel this pain that torments me. Maybe he thinks that I'm just ill at ease from what we're talking about.
You said you wanted me to leave…, I whisper quietly into the depths of my thoughts and this time the agony is so sharp that I force my eyes shut and my senses pull into their selves.
I was very angry with you, he murmurs quietly as he pulls me out of the corner I mentally tried to place myself in a mere moment earlier. I think he believes that cringe was from my pervious statement. He couldn't possibly know this suffering. You frustrate me… Damn it, I can't do this anymore!
If I were able to, I might have bitten the inside of my cheek. Could we possibly start over?
"Open your eyes." His smile is the very embodiment of misery as he looks down at me. His lips brush mine and it is then that I realize he's brought back the Glamour. When the Dark Lord speaks, numbness stabs my skin from where his touches my own. "It's too late for that now. You know that."
I do care…for…you. Could we at least try?
"I told you it's too late. I can't play these games with you anymore. It hurts now."
You said you loved me! My voice reaches a high point of blind panic and that groundless hurt triples and as a result, I feel something crack audibly deep within my chest.
"I do love you. But I can't be with you. This is just how it has to be." He pulls back and looks at me sadly.
Don't leave me!
"I'll always be here. Don't worry." Voldemort's voice has a devastated quality to it that makes this situation all the more hurtful and the terrible pain that plays with my nerve endings squeezes as hard as it can to make me surrender my will on living. A bone-breaking scream breaks from my lips at last and my mind soars triumphantly to insanity.
I LOVE YOU!
Silence at once engulfs the room and my Death hovers so close to my head I can nearly grasp it within my bony fingers. The pain…drifts away and I am nothing as I was once before. Now it is for all time. Heaven help me.
It seems that I'm taking place in an out of body experience as I watch the scene unfold from above. The Dark Lord picks up my frame that no longer contains me and I watch as he clutches it tight to his chest. He whispers things that I suppose mean something to my departed self, but I couldn't know now.
I turn ever so slightly and see Death in all her finery hold out her hand for me. However, this isn't the natural manifestation of Death that has cared for me time and time again.
"Mother?"
"Come with me Harry. Everything is all right now." My deceased mother's arm stretches to me but I shy away just a little.
"But…what about him…?" I ask softly and point to where the Dark Lord holds me within his arms.
"It doesn't matter anymore dear. Come with me and we'll go see your father. We've been waiting for you for so long." Her smile reflects my empty eyes.
"I can't; he needs me." I say quietly with the words sounding unfamiliar to my ears.
"But it's your time."
"…I'm going back to him. I know…what I need now." She makes to grasp my arm but I pull farther away and finally hear what he's whispering to my corpse. Oh no.
Stop! Don't! Please don't! My soul whispers on the air. He pays no attention to my words that have no sound and continues to murmur the meaningless words to my corpse.
I float around his head for moments as I relish the feeling of being deceased engulfing my senses. But then I touch my colder than death fingertip that is sprawled off to the side free from his clutches of my right hand and the soul that I am is pulled back into my broken shell of a body.
…
My eyes open and as I inhale luxurious air into my lungs and the breath rattles through my chest I recognize his voice whispering nonsense above my head. My head lies against his chest and I listen to the slow irregular beat of his heart for minutes, possibly hours, and I lie in absolute rapture in the glow of the tangled, yet wonderful feeling it causes to spike in my chest.
It takes a few minutes for me to remember how to speak and I remain muddled until I find the cache of my memories.
"…………………T-Tom…?"
His entire frame goes rigid and I actually hear his heart stop for a fraction of a second.
"…HARRY?!" The Dark Lord's voice is a scream that spirals and reverberates off the high ceiling and he holds me even tighter than before to him. And…I don't want him to let go. "Oh god! You're not dead!"
I can feel that he's close to hyperventilating at this point, but I cannot move my limbs to try and calm him down, but I don't think it's wise to tell him that I was dead for possibly more than a few minutes.
…I'm so tired though…I couldn't do anything even if I tried…and my previous pain is has returned, however lessened it may be it still hurts me.
"I thought I'd lost you forever…oh god…and it felt like I had died as well."
"…I'm so cold…hold me…and please…don't let go." My voice comes out in a whisper and my mind seeks out his. I know what I need…and I know…I'm not going to ignore that anymore. His mind pulls my own to him, and he interweaves his own into mine and thus he supports my tired and muddled self.
"…Don't leave…you said you were…going…away…you couldn't be with me…?"
"No…no…I'll stay…I'll stay."
"…You'll…be with me…?"
"Yes…I won't leave your side…"
My voice is nearing on silent on my next words. "I'm…sorry for…all those things…I put you through…I don't deserve you…"
"It's okay…it's okay…I love you all the same. I was just very angry…I said things I shouldn't have."
"…I…love you…too…" My voice fades out from my weariness but my words are sincere. I do…love him. Maybe I…always have.
I feel my eyes slowly close and my body relaxes completely against his. The sound of his heartbeat reaches my hearing once more but this time the beat of his heart is regular again, and the sound tugs on my consciousness to finally give in to realm of oblivion. And I do with my mind held in his protective embrace.
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A.O.T.I.F.: (pencil snaps) That's what I thought. Goodness this took forever to write…I had to bring him back from school, had to have him have a revelation…face losing Voldemort entirely…the list goes on and on.
I then realized that there were actually a lot of implications on the things that happened like with Harry dying, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Anyways, I don't know where Harry taking out his soul and later on dying came from…I must have been out of it from finishing this at two o'clock in the morning…
Yes, Harry admitted he was afraid, yes there were a bunch of repetitive points that I myself hated doing, and yes, Voldemort cried. How dramatic.
This is going to end soon in a possible five or less chapters only because I have to tie up a major amount of loose ends (Neville and his Death Eater concept (since one of my reviewers was irritated about how I didn't explain it and all), confrontation with Dumbledore, etc.).
Harry and Voldemort are going to, ahem, as some people put it, "get it on" in the next chapter, possibly. Did you hear me, I said possibly! No death threats! I get enough of those daily without needing any online.
(kicks desk hard) And my finals are done at last. Thank goodness. (sighs) I hope I get passing grades.
Please review.