Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Alright readers, I know some of you were kind of confused with Harry in the last chapter. And I know it seems a bit dramatic. Actually it kind of just came out of no where and it was rash of me to throw it in there without consideration. So sorry, but look at me I'm trying to reassure you and give you an idea as to whats going on.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the newest chapter: Airlady and Gackts Sanura. I really appreciate it as always.

Read, review, and enjoy! Magnolia

Chapter 37 Inside the Mind of Harry Potter

Harry Potter lay in the puddle of muck and melting snow long after Isabella ran away. He pounded his fist against the rocky earth underneath the cover of snow till his hands began to crack and bleed. Harry screamed and yelled till his voice ran dry and then there was no sound in the vast forest.

He had been so close, so close and she had tricked him

That sneaky Slytherin bitch.

Did she not see he was trying to help her? That he was the good guy?

No, she had been frightened and gave him a shot to the nuts.

How in the hell could her smile not have been a sign?

When Harry had seen it from his seat next to Hermione in the Three Broomsticks, his heart leaped. All his dreaming, all his hoping that he could have a chance with her was finally coming true. That beautiful smile was nothing else but a sign.

Harry watched her for the rest of the afternoon noticing her internal despair, something he knew had been caused by Draco. He saw how she would softly sigh occasionally and fall into a trance at the sight of the falling snow and he knew she was thinking of something far away, possibly a life away from Draco.

Isabella was suffering and it seemed he was the only one who noticed. Harry took it upon himself the first day he saw her, when for a moment their eyes connected to save her from the beast Draco. Then again at the quidditch match, their eyes met and Harry felt as if she was calling out to him, wanting his help.

Isabella didn't know she had married a junior deatheater who had only been waiting the word of his master to attack all that was good in their world.

Harry promised himself then he would reveal the real Draco to her and he had seen some successes. The last fight had gone off brilliantly resulting in a foundational break in their false marriage. And yet here she was today by Draco's side.

The sight infuriated Harry to the point that he had no other choice but to confront her today, make his motives clear. And she had run away.

Harry scowled himself for his carelessness as he stood from his place on the ground. His shirt was dripping wet and sucking the heat from his body.

Harry had no time though, he had to plan his next move. This attempt had failed but the next would not.

"There issss a way," a voice inside the corners of his mind hissed, "kill the boy, take whatsss yourssss."

Harry clutched hand fulls of his hair and fell once again to his knees. His skin breaking into a cold sweat.

He knew the voice well, it was the very same voice that had haunted his nightmares, the same voice who nearly destroyed his way of life, the same voice he fought and defeat, the voice of Lord Voldemort.

"It would be rather sssimple you know, jussst a drop of posssion."

Harry cried out in shear agony as his temples trobbed.

"Shut up, you're not real," he shouted.

"But Harry, I am real at least here insssside your mind."

Voldemort's cackle echoed throughout Harry's mind as he fought for control.

"You can't talk to me, you're dead. I killed you, I destroyed you!"

The surrounding trees shuddered with the intensity of his voice, and heavy gatherings of snow fell from the weak pine needles.

"Harry, my dear boy, mussst we argue about thisss now. It seemsss you have more important thingsss to deal with like that delectable Italian girl."

"You stay the hell away from her do you hear me! She is an innocent. I won't let you ruin her."

"Why Harry, how could little old me do a thing like that."

"Stay out of my head, stay out of my head," Harry muttered repeatedly as his resolve began to crack.

"But Harry, we could have sssso much fun with thissss one."

"Stay away! She is mine."

The tone of Harry's voice changed from only a few moments ago, morphed into something much darker.

"Yessss," Voldemort eagerly agreed, "and you ssshould fight for what issss yoursss no?"

"Yessss," Harry hissed in return.

All the fight, the strength, Harry the boy who had survived, possessed failed against the persuasive forked tongue of Lord Voldemort.

It seemed his scar had both saved Harry and damned him.

On that evening, so long ago it felt, the night of the final battle all did not go according to plan.

The scene was laid, the battle plans studied and calculated to a tee. As the order fought deatheaters and dementors, Harry alongside a small group from the Order would face Voldemort.

As the battle continued, the group fell apart till only Harry, Ron, and Hermione found Lord Voldemort lounging beneath the Whomping Willow as the battle raged around them.

Harry had expected a fight, but the dark lord surprised him with an offer.

"Join me Harry, join me and the world will be our oysssster."

As Harry was about to refuse, something held him back. In the recesses of his mind a deeper, darker Harry, or in reality the piece of Voldemort that had always resided in Harry through his infamous scar weighted the options.

Hermione and Ron yelled for him to finish Voldemort, finish this fight. But their pleading fell on deaf ears and Harry could only hear his wildly beating heart.

Harry's own power lust, dark magic lust, nearly cost the outcome of the final battle.

That night however the boy who lived Harry Potter triumphed and killed Lord Voldemort.

But Voldemort was here somehow, lurking inside Harry's mind waiting to escape.

It began as a whispered hint or suggestion not only in life but also school work. Harry was soon accustomed to the small voice that appeared to the small voice that appeared to have all the right answers. But as the months past, the voice evolved and began to interject almost everyday. It was then that Harry realized who that voice belonged to and fought its presence.

The power of Lord Voldemort however must not be underestimated and he had enough control now over Harry's mind to stay as Harry struggled to maintain control.

Harry's mind was a constant strife between what he knew was right and what Voldemort believed was right. Harry knew this was a battle that only he could fight but it was becoming a heavy burden on his shoulders. His school work was failing, but most teachers took pity on their savior and let their quills slip turning D's to O's. He ate much less and everyday he was becoming more vindictive, more angry, that even Hermione had begun to notice.

But Harry couldn't tell them, they…they would think he was crazy and Harry never wanted to be called a liar again, not after fifth year.

So day after day, Harry fought for his mind.

Today though for the first time Voldemort had succeeded.

However small the skirmish, this marked the beginning of bad things to come for Harry and consequently for all of Hogwarts.

"Yessss," Harry hissed again, "together we can win Isabella's heart and destroy Malfoy once and for all. Then she will be mine, all mine."

Voldemort only laughed a shrill evil laugh that brought even the most powerful of men to their knees.

Harry stood from the snow, the pain subsiding. He straightened his shirt and headed out of the forest ready to begin the next set of plans.

And somewhere in the mind of Harry Potter, the real Harry was cowering in the corner as the Dark Lord Voldemort took the reigns, ready to lead.