Beta : Julie. fjad
Chapter Ten
Dreams
He was drifting between sleep and consciousness, in his bed in a room that he had to share with three nasty pigs, in the Gryffindor tower which had been designed and built by a colour-blind maniac. His eyelids were closing slowly, before quickly opening, only to start closing again. Harry was trying to stay awake, as he could feel the sand in the air, and the moisture with high temperatures approach his mind from the world of sleep. A dream he had seen many times before was starting to repeat, and Harry tried to fight it off, not wanting to see it today. He needed to dream about something important for him, and not watch a scene with two complete strangers, who Harry had never seen or heard before. Harry still had no idea who it was, or why he was seeing the dream in the first place.
He sighed when he felt his eyelids close, and giving up, he embraced the dream.
A lightning bolt was visible in a series of spiderwebs on the sky, before one powerful charge struck the ground.
The dream always began with the strike of lightning and the man, who appeared with it from the skies.
The air was humid, but dry at the same time. The sand was between the man's toes as he walked through it, glancing with interest at the half-finished pyramid. He was only wearing a long, shimmering cloak, with the hood on, and the front left opened. His front jewels were hidden by a bunch of leaves in the form of a cube that somehow didn't fall off. A large stone, seated into a ring which was on the man's left hand, caught the light from the sunrays. In his right hand he was twirling what looked like a small sceptre, slowly approaching a man who had appeared out of nowhere as well.
The two figures were now standing in the desert, looking at the construction of the pyramid.
"The longer I know you, the longer I struggle to comprehend why everybody thinks I'm the strange one when clearly the crown is yours, my favourite nephew."
Harry could see the elder man clearly, while the younger was wearing the hood of the only article of cloth he had on—a shimmering cloak.
"Funny. It's double-removed, and I am your only nephew, uncle dear."
"Stop arguing with your favourite uncle and give me a hug." The man was in his fifties, clad in a black tunic that had runic symbols around the collar, and he had strange, yellow eyes. He stepped forward, opening his arms to hug the younger man. Somehow Harry was sure that the hooded stranger was younger, and not only because of the nephew reference.
The younger man hugged his uncle, and then stepped back.
"Tell me, nephew, are you planning on sticking around? Maybe we could do something fun together…" The older man was moving his eyebrows up and down, waiting for the reply. He looked truly interested, and had a very hopeful expression on his face.
"You always sound so perverse, uncle. No wonder Auntie hates your guts." The younger man stopped to pick up a stone, and continued, while inspecting it, "I don't know yet, to be honest, and I was planning on you inviting me over for a stay, until I decide. Auntie kicked me out today."
"That bitch…"
"And since I haven't seen my folks in ages, I am now homeless."
The younger man really amused the older man, who was looking at him with a tender smile.
"You're always homeless, nephew. Nothing new there," the older man muttered, inspecting the pyramid many people were building. "How many pyramids do you need?" The younger man asked, throwing the stone he had picked up before.
"Five is alright, I think. Maybe more. If you say you won't stay, then I'll make more. If you stay, there is no point in building them in the first place. So, what did Auntie say? She wants you to do your job, while you fool around, doing nothing, am I correct?"
"She said if I don't plan on sticking around, I can go to hell and drive you insane instead of her. So I'm here."
The older man was looking at the younger pensively, before replying. "And you'll behave? I don't need any nasty surprises at home." A hole appeared in the sand, glowing red, and even Harry could hear the horrible screams from below, while both men didn't even flinch.
"You hurt my feelings. I don't shit where I live."
"So rude… Love it! Promise you'll behave?" The older man laughed a bit, asking, and then patted the younger man on the cloak-clad shoulder, as he nodded.
"Then welcome to hell, my boy."
Green eyes opened and Harry yawned, before rubbing his eyes and rolling onto his side, to hide more comfortably under the warm blankets, when his arse felt the chill in the room and then Harry was on the floor. Looking at the tiny bed, Harry groaned. No wonder he kept falling down from the bed. He was used to king-size beds only, and this one was at the most a single bed, like in a jail, with dirty, nasty cellmates.
Growling, Harry looked at the snoring, drooling Neville Longbottom, then at the snoring Dean Thomas and lastly, at Seamus Finnegan, who was now sitting up in his bed.
"What are you staring at?" Harry asked the sandy-haired idiot, who wouldn't stop staring at Harry's sitting form.
"I would choose words carefully, Potter. You're not in the muggle world anymore, and here, no one will help you if I kick your arse."
Bahahaha…He had no one? He had the Headmaster, who was willing to break any laws to get Harry to cooperate, then he had Lord Voldemort, who would first kill, and then ask questions, and he had Lucius Malfoy, who wasn't as impressive as Dumbledore and Voldemort, but still the blond was capable of many nasty things.
"Are you deaf, Potter?"
And also, today he was going to make friends with the Ministry, to secure his backside from Dumbledore's and Voldemort's machinations. Since classes were cancelled for today, Harry had a scheduled meeting with Dolores Umbridge, the new Professor of Wizarding Politics.
"You really are crazy."
Rolling his eyes, still not bothering to answer, Harry got up and fastening a curtain—it was red, so he had somehow had one of the curtains from the Gryffindor Tower as cloth—over his shoulders, he shuffled towards the bathroom, his wand secured on the side of his underwear.
"Your voice makes me want to urinate. Till later." Harry slammed the door shut, ignoring the rounded eyes and expression of anger on Finnegan's face.
Xxx
He had already told Dumbledore, straight after the dinner, than he wasn't aware of what exactly Jim Moriarty had planned, and he had not detonated any of the bombs.
He was innocent.
And now, he had a Ministry official to turn into a lapdog, Harry thought as he knocked on the door of Professor Umbridge.
After he had showered, and was finally satisfied with his cleanliness, he was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who had calmly explained to Harry why he needed to free the bathroom so that the others could also shower and brush their teeth. He knew why, but he appreciated Professor's try. His cellmates were such pigs that they needed a swimming pool full with antiseptic solution, and to soak in it for a few centuries, but no matter what Harry thought, he had to free the bathroom after an hour in there.
He didn't care about his enraged cellmates, and quickly dressing into the disgusting red uniform, Harry went to meet his next toy. Professor McGonagall was silent as she led Harry down the corridor, and after looking at him for a second, Professor McGonagall left, just as silently. The woman was pensive and Harry looked at her retreating form with squinted eyes.
Her he liked.
After a knock, the door opened and a pink frog was smiling at him. Nasty bitch.
And her not.
"Mister Potter, glad you could make it in time." I want to murder you. Slowly.
"I wouldn't miss the meeting with the Ministry's trusted official for anything in the world."
Bah.
"Come in, Mister Potter, and help yourself to some tea."
He was in the most horrible room he had seen —after Azkaban— and it was pink, pink, pink. Everything was pink and pictures of kittens were everywhere. Harry wanted to take a knife and cut his eyes out before sticking the knife into the fat neck of the crazy toad.
The wizarding world did not have any normal people.
Harry poured himself a cup of tea, not noticing Umbridge's nasty smile, and took a sip.
YUCK.
"Great tea, Professor Madam Umbridge." He'd take a cup with him, to clean the toilet seat in the dorm with the solution the crazy idiot was calling 'tea'. No, no...that was wrong. To have the toilet cleaned for him.
"Oh, Mister Potter, I see that your manners are not what I had expected, after having a talk with Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape." Her voice was grating on his nerves, and Harry had to keep his psychopathic tendencies in a firm grip, before he created even more problems. He needed lapdogs, not enemies; those he had enough of in both worlds.
She didn't add the title of 'Professor' to any of the men, and Harry smiled inwardly, while looking the woman in the eyes.
"If you forgive my blunt statement, Madam Professor," Harry trailed off, waiting for the woman's nod, and continued in a polite and sweet tone, "I don't think Snape or Dumbledore show enough respect for Ministerial authority, and we have a few disagreements because of that."
"Drink a bit more tea, Mister Potter. And please do continue."
Harry took one more sip of the disgusting tea and swallowing, he smiled a small, polite smile.
"They don't care about rules, and they disregard the fact that the Ministry is the one and only to decide what should be happening in the wizarding world, and what not."
The toad's thoughts were like an open book, and Harry swallowed some more tea so as to not laugh out loud.
"I see that maybe I have had a wrong impression of you, Mister Potter." The bitch sat opposite of him and looked closely at Harry's face. "There is still a problem with what happened yesterday, Mister Potter."
"Please call me Harry, Madam Professor." And don't you dare call my fireworks a problem! It was a gift from the bottom of Jim's heart.
"With pleasure, Harry. Can you tell me more about those explosions?" He really didn't know that much...While he had spent somewhere around four years with James, he didn't know that much about Moriarty's business. It was boring.
Harry was quiet for a second, before leaning a bit forward and whispering, "Madam Professor, I will tell you everything, because I can see that you're a very wise and knowledgeable Ministry official, but please, don't tell others. They would lock me up."
Hermione Granger still hadn't bothered him, but Harry could tell it was about to change.
"Of course, Harry. Tell me everything, and we'll look for a solution together. Drink a bit more tea, please."
Yeah, yeah, he had already drained his cup which consisted of tea only to a half, the other half was filled with Veritaserum. The toad had zero Occlumency knowledge, and Harry started coughing, as he saw a memory of Umbridge shaving her armpits. Don't think about your other hair, don't think….
It was a curse to be able to see everything a person had done in his, or in this case, her life.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember Azkaban. When he thought about the dirt in that prison, he didn't want to murder the crazy hag here and now.
He'd wait.
If Umbridge had used the same Veritaserum as they had used on James, then the person who had brewed it was a retard who couldn't brew potions, since they didn't work properly. It shouldn't surprise anyone that the bombs went off. It would be hilarious, if it had been Snape who fucked up all the batches.
"Madam Professor…I grew up neglected by the drug-addicted, magic-hating muggles, before our neighbour, Mister Brook, decided to interfere after…" Harry stopped his muttering and wiped his left eye where a crystal tear was shimmering in the sun rays.
"Yes, yes, continue, Harry. After what?" Talk about excited...
"After he found out the muggles had beaten me to almost death." There...
"And why did they do they done such a thing?" Because.
"I brought a small, tiny, hungry, dirty kitten into my room, and shared my only piece of bread with it." As if...
"A kitten?" Toad's voice was now tender, and full with compassion.
Property of Harry Potter, Harry wanted to write on the toad's head. Gotcha.
"I didn't even have the time to give it a name. It had one green eye and only three paws, and when my aunt saw the poor, innocent kitty, she threw it out of the wi-window." Two tears were now rolling down Harry's face, and about a dozen on Umbridge's.
"It died?" The hag half-breathed, half-sobbed.
"N-no." Harry hiccupped, and took the offered tissue to wipe his eyes. "My uncle found it lying on its back, barely breathing from all the traumas, and then..."
"Yes?" It was a soft whisper, and it made Harry hit his chest, to not laugh.
"I tried to save it, I really did." Harry swallowed some more tea. "But Uncle Vernon kept screaming that cats were the devil's servants, then took a knife and cut off the kitten's head, calling it a filthy demon, making me watch the sufferings of the innocent kitty. I remember it's last miau. It's killing me." Harry started to sob in earnest, and he could see Umbridge wipe her teary eyes.
"Devil's servants...filthy demon…" The gullible toad repeated in stunned whisper, and now she was looking at Harry with different eyes.
"Harry, but how is it connected to the bombs that have exploded yesterday?"
"It's a secret that only Dumbledore and his Muggle friends—Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes—know about, and Richard Brook, the neighbour, had found this secret out, and he just couldn't live with it. He just couldn't…"
"What secret, Harry? Tell me!" What would James say about his story?
"The muggles work together with Dumbledore, and our Ministry doesn't know anything. They lie to you, they lie to everyone. They are dirty, ruthless smugglers."
"Smugglers? And what are they smuggling?" The toad was close to jumping in her chair from the anticipation.
"Madam Umbridge, you will think me insane." Harry whispered, trying to not laugh at the serious expression on her ugly face.
"I believe you, Harry. You can trust me."
Yeah, right. The fact that he had drunk more than a vial of Veritaserum had probably helped Umbridge in her delusional beliefs. He didn't know if it was his weirdness acting again, or the bootleg potion.
"Kittens, Madam Professor," Harry breathed out, looking in the shocked, toady eyes.
"What?" She asked, looking at his empty cup of tea, and then in his eyes. "Tell me, Harry, tell me everything you know!"
"They catch and steal kittens all over the world, force them to hunger for many weeks, transporting them in huge containers with at least one thousand kittens inside." Harry paused to look at the toad, whose face was twisted with rage and eyes glistering with tears. "And they skin the poor, innocent, sweet kittens, while they are alive and their soul-tearing screams—"
"STOP!" Umbridge cried, and took a vial from her drawer and poured it into her cup. Ah, Calming Draught.
Nice.
"I am so, so sorry, Madam. Richard Brook wanted to stop those smugglers, to save the other kittens in the world, and those criminals made up all the nonsense, trying to cover up their traces."
"Your friend wanted to save the kittens?" James had a new fangirl, and he didn't even know. Damn you, Holmes!
"Exactly, mam. He wanted the evil guys to pay for what they had done to the poor, innocent, furry, sweet kittens."
Considering he was under Veritaserum—brewed by a moron—then everything he said was true.
"Is everything you told me is truth?"
Well, duh...
"Yes, Madam Professor. I am a honest person with moral obligations, and I want to work for the Ministry of Magic when I grow up. I am not a liar, mam."
The Professor of Magical Politics had so many noodles around her ears, that Harry was afraid she'd fall through the floor, into the dungeons, and directly into Snape's new batch of bootleg potion before Harry was finished with her brainwashing.
Maybe SS was a dealer? A good business idea— to add water into the potions and use them at school where no one cared anyway, with Dark Lords and crazy people running around the castle, and an oblivious Headmaster who needed some serious medication himself, and to sell the correct potions on the black market...Maybe Snape wasn't that bad?
Didn't Lucius mention that Snape was his old acquaintance? Magical Walter White and Co...
Umbridge looked close to getting a stroke, and Harry raised his eyebrows, when the woman started to sob into her napkin that had pictures of kittens on the corners.
It took the toad at least a minute to calm down, and then she was looking at Harry with determined eyes.
"We'll work together, Harry. I can see your devotion to the Ministry, and your respect for authorities, alongside with your kind heart and pure soul. I'll see what I can do to help your friend, Harry, and you'll be the Ministry's eyes and ears where I cannot be. We'll restore the justice."
Too easy.
"Thank you, mam, thank you. Those kittens deserve a better life." Harry started to cry harder because the only other choice was to roll on the floor and roar from laughter. A tender touch on his shoulder made him shudder inwardly, as he was embraced by the ugly, too-sweet-smelling toad.
"You're a good boy, Harry. A very good boy."
You bet I am.
xxx
"So, you're saying that Potter is on our side, Malfoy?"
Draco rolled his eyes at the question that he had been asked all evening and morning, and glanced at Granger, who looked like she hadn't slept. Considering Pansy was her roommate, it didn't surprise Draco.
He opened his mouth to say "YES" when the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories opened and there stood Potter, with an ugly pink creature, who was now their Professor of Politics.
Draco watched curiously, as Potter whispered something to Umbridge, nodding his head in Granger's direction. Granger wasn't looking at the new guests, otherwise she would have seen how their new Professor's eyes glazed in rage, and she nodded at Potter, before turning around and leaving.
Draco opened his mouth to ask what Potter was doing here, when the boy motioned for Draco and a few others to quietly come to him.
Granger still hadn't noticed anything as she had her back to the entrance, and Draco got up, followed by Blaise and Theodore, and approached Potter.
"You're a Malfoy. Pleasure, Draco. If there is one family which knows what it's doing, it's yours." Potter was talking quietly, even though they were outside of the dormitory. Draco almost beamed with pride, before quickly offering his hand to Potter. "And you are Potter. Father says you also know what you're doing, and my dad doesn't say that often."
They shook hands, smiling at each other, and then Harry shook hands with Theo and Blaise.
"Blaise Zabini."
"Theodore Nott."
"Harry Potter."
"I have to tell you a very important secret, because we need to keep together if we want to win." Potter looked at them with serious eyes, and then leaned a bit forward, lowering his voice even more.
"Alright, Potter, we're listening," Blaise answered in interested voice, and Draco nodded eagerly.
"The Mudblood is working on bringing us down. Granger prepares the ground for Muggle invasion."
Draco had known from the start that Granger was a piece of shit, but to find out to which extension her filthy plans went…So that was why his father had been working with Potter.
"How do you know it?" Draco asked, white faced. Muggle invasion….Just like in the bedtime stories his father used to read him when Draco was younger.
"Because I'm Harry Potter, that's how. And I plan on stopping those filthy creatures from getting their nasty hands on what belongs only us. This is our world, our magic. We are purebloods."
Draco found himself nodding while Potter spoke, only to stop when Potter said he was a pureblood.
"Em, Potter, don't take offence, but you're a half-blood." Looked like Theo wasn't the smartest of the bunch, but it was a brave statement.
Potter's squinted eyes made Draco feel really uncomfortable, and he wondered what to say to Potter to avoid offending him.
"My mother was a witch, and my father was a wizard. They both attended Hogwarts, so how the hell am I a half-blood? My mother was a Mudblood, but she was still a witch. So, I'm a pureblood."
Draco pursed his lips, thinking. Potter was actually right. And he had called his mom a Mudblood.
"Hey, you're a pureblood in the first generation. How cool!" Theo was now smiling at Harry, who nodded in return.
"What did you do to the Mudblood's parents?" Draco asked, his face full with interest, looking at the now smirking Potter.
"I provided the muggles with the treatment they deserved."
He would find out the details later, since now was not the time, Draco thought, as he noticed their Defence against the Dark Arts teacher approach them.
"Till later, Draco, Theo, Blaise." Potter looked each in the eye, stressing their names, and Draco nodded. "Till later, Harry." Potter winked at him, and then turned to Professor Quirrell, who was waiting in the corridor, looking at their pureblood company with a raised eyebrow.
Dad was always right. Potter was dangerous, but not for them. He couldn't wait to write Lucius Malfoy and made him proud. Harry was his friend now.
Xxx
He hadn't laughed in a long time. The last time such laughter had left his lips, he had found out where the Potters had been hiding.
"What is so funny?" Potter's whine dropped his great mood a bit, but it was still somewhere around 'happy'.
"You are immune to Veritaserum?" It was just too much, imagining the old fool's face when he'd find out about this little fact. It would make Dumbles lift his left leg and step with it into the coffin. Voldemort stopped laughing as he thought about which flowers he'd bring to Dumbledore's grave. He'd piss on it first—even bodiless he would have found a way to do so—, but then he'd still put flowers, as a reminder of Lord Voldemort's greatness. Roses were out of the question, and everything else was too nice...Should he bring a cactus, maybe? What if it starts to blossom... Or better, the Manticora roots, to scare away the visitors with its sweet screams?
"How the hell am I supposed to know that? Maybe the batch was just fucked up. Snape has so much acid that maybe he breathed onto the potion and ruined it. " Maybe he should ask Potter about the flowers. What would Harry bring to Dumbledore's grave?
A bomb, probably.
"I highly doubt it, Harry." Voldemort was looking at the boy, many thoughts running through his mind, but not forgetting the reason for his initially good mood. He hadn't slept all night because he kept thinking about the Philosopher's stone and his Horcruxes, when a bizzare, but insanely interesting idea popped into his mind. When Voldemort thought about his diary-horcrux, an image of Harry appeared before his eye, and after a second of sheer terror, pure euphoria took over his soul.
What if…
Impossible, but then again, it was Harry Potter he was talking about.
"Oh, and I need to learn a spell to influence someone's mind."
Potter was talking about Granger, and their new idiot Professor, who would test the Mudblood under Veritaserum later.
Harry had just told him what had happened to Granger and her parents, and even shared that Umbridge wasn't on the 'Kill first' list. He still didn't know what Potter really wanted from him, and while Harry shared a lot, he also 'accidently' forgot to add details here and there...He was no Umbridge, and no Dumbledore. If there was one person Potter would not fool, it would be him, Lord Voldemort.
"And your godfather? When will he be released from St. Mungo's?" Voldemort asked the boy, who was now lounging on his sofa. "Feet off the sofa, Potter, NOW!" A small hex left his wand and hit Potter in the side.
The idiot boy jumped at the barked command, and shaking his head, he put his feet onto the floor, muttering something about 'haloperidol'.
What did it mean? He had never heard of such a word. Was Potter insulting him, and he didn't know? He'd need to find out what it was.
"Sirius will be out in a week, and then we move to Grimmauld Place, the Black's residence. So, will you show me the spell that I need?" Harry was biting the nail of his thumb, and Voldemort wished to show Harry another curse, but from the same category...It started with a C and ended with an O…
The one thing he missed more than his body, was the ability to cast Cruciatus on a daily-basis.
Smirking, Lord Voldemort raised Quirrell's stupid wand, and directed it at Potter.
He'd test two theories with one shot.
"Imperio!"
Harry looked at the wand movement, and was now patiently waiting for an explanation.
Truth time, Harry...
"Stand on your knees and bow to me."
After three seconds Lord Voldemort repeated the command, and seeing Potter's clear, green eyes, he already knew. It all became clear to him.
"Is there anything else you want, like Dumbledore's heart, or the Philosopher's stone? I guarantee it will happen sooner than me getting on my knees."
He had been right. Potter could understand and speak Parseltongue, without noticing the difference.
And also, his Horcrux was immune to the Imperius Curse. What Voldemort would give to just try out a one small Crucio on Harry, and see if it worked…
Maybe at least one of three Unforgivable Curses worked on the boy?
Voldemort really hoped Crucio worked because otherwise he wasn't sure how to control Potter later on.
The boy had extremely advanced Legilimency skills, he was immune to Veritaserum, scared Dementors and was all in all was a very strange kid. Whoever Harry was, Voldemort wouldn't have been able to find a better place for his Horcrux, as now there was no more doubt. Potter had a part of his own soul, and he was the unintentional Horcrux Voldemort hadn't even thought about until yesterday.
As long as Harry lived—and the boy looked hard to destroy, but not for him—he, the great Dark Lord, would be immortal. And then he'd kill Harry himself, along with the Horcrux.
"Very good, Harry. It will work on the Mudblood, she's not you. Just say 'Imperio', and make sure no one is around when you cast it." And I won't tell you anything I have found out about you.
Such a bad boy, hiding things from me, Lord Voldemort thought and his eyes shone red for a second.
You are mine, Harry Potter.
xxx
It was evening time, and he still hadn't found out what haloperidol meant, so when he stumbled upon Severus, Voldemort decided to try a different tactic. He wasn't Lord Voldemort now, he was idiotic Pro-Professor Quirrell.
"Pro-Professor Sn-Snape! May I ask you a qu-question?" At Severus' raised eyebrow and nod, he continued. "Do-do you k-know what haloperidol is?"
Harry would pay dearly for that word, whatever it meant, as now, for the first time in his life, Lord Voldemort saw Severus Snape fight a smile that so wanted to appear on his usually blank face, that Snape had to cough to hide his laugh behind his fist.
Three Crucios in a row. For both. And then two more. For each.
"I see you have spoken to Mister Potter, Professor Quirrell. He said you needed Haloperidol?" He didn't have to be Lord Voldemort to hear the tinkling laughter hidden behind the man's perfect self-control. Even Quirrell could hear it now, and nodded, like the idiot he was.
"Do you have nausea and vomiting?" Snape was dying inside from laughter, and Voldemort mentally raised his bone-white wand and cast a Crucio, while Quirrell shook his idiotic head. "Are you in alcohol withdrawal, maybe?"
Double Crucio.
"No!" Liar, liar...Quirrell loved vodka, and drank a bottle a day before Lord Voldemort took over.
Snape actually smiled. "I think Mister Potter tried to say that you were not very fit in the mental department, Professor."
Since Voldemort was busy fuming with rage, then Quirrell's face remained stupid, making Severus sigh, and licking his thin lips, explain in details.
"Haloperidol is a typical antipsychotic medication. It is used in the treatment of schizophrenia, nausea and vomiting, delirium, agitation, acute psychosis, and hallucinations in alcohol withdrawal. Since we have excluded all other possibilities, only few are still there for you to choose from. Have a good evening, Professor Quirrell." Snape swallowed the laughter again, and nodding, went away towards the dungeons, the black cloak billowing behind his tall figure.
Antipsychotic...
Oh, you wait, Harry Potter.
xxx
a/n Thank you to everyone who had a minute and left a review.