Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I wouldn't want children to read this. I am making no profit from this story. Rated R for non-explicit violence, be warned now. What else would you expect from Voldemort? This chapter is not very violent.

Chapter Two: Whispers and Withdrawal

September and beyond

I have no idea why I'm keeping a journal. It seems like a stupid idea. Hermione says that it helps clear out your mind like a Pensieve, so I can focus on what's important, and it would be good for me. Anyway, I put some spells on this so it looks blank and nobody can see inside it like a Pensieve. I'll think of some more ways to hide it. I don't know what I'm going to write about though. Hermione's so bossy. Ron isn't much better. He thinks he's so great because he's still on the Quidditch team, and I haven't got time to play this year. I guess I don't miss it a lot because I didn't get to play often during the past couple of years anyway, but it's much more fun than being tutored by Professor McGonagall! I have to bring my grades up a little to pass my NEWTS for Auror training. It's all a waste of time. Snape will flunk me anyway. I really hate him. I'd like to see him-- Harry crossed his last sentence out.

I'm tired of school. Sometimes I think I should just fly away like Fred and George did last year. Someone would just find me though. I wish everybody would leave me alone. I try to keep to myself, but they always bother me. They treat me like I'm sick or stupid or something. Last year, I wished Professor Dumbledore would talk to me more, but now I'm growing quite tired of his scrutiny and condescension. He criticizes everything I do and tells me it's dangerous to get angry. What a fool. He's keeping an annoyingly close watch on me, so I need to take action about that.

Well, I'm supposed to go out to Hogsmeade this afternoon with Professor Lupin to practice Apparating again. He says we can get a Butterbeer, but I don't really like them anymore. Too sweet. I'd better go, I'm going to be late.

Harry closed the small book, locking and Obscuring it with his wand. Only he could find it now. It would not do to have others meddling with it. He decided to write in it again: he did feel a little better after writing down his thoughts, mentally stronger and sharper.

* * * * * * *

Harry spent more and more time in his dormitory studying and writing in his journal, and within a few weeks, Professor McGonagall declared that he no longer needed extra tutoring. He mused that she was so proud that one would think she'd done all the work herself. Class was getting easier, rather than harder, however, as last week he'd even caught a mistake that Snape had made in the potions measurements he'd written on the board. Snape took points away for his impertinence, but Harry saw him quickly change the amount from 1/6 to 1/8 cup of absinthe.

Harry enjoyed his privacy, but it was frequently disturbed. One afternoon, his pleasant reverie over an Astrology book was rudely interrupted by Ron throwing back his bed curtains in typical Weasley tact. "Come out of there. You need to eat. Even Hermione says so."

Harry adjusted his glasses as he gazed up at his friend. "I'm perfectly capable of determining if I'm hungry. And why should I care what Hermione thinks?"

Ron frowned at him, looking a little dense. "I figured you've been doing so much studying to impress her, so she won't nag. Even she says you're going overboard. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm planning for my future. Surely you can see the benefit of that."

"Is this about Sirius? Are you still upset? You can talk to us, you know." Ron shifted his weight between his feet and bit his lip.

"You figured it out, excellent. Do you plan to hold my hand while I cry?" Harry shook his head to clear it, stopping himself. What was that all about? "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I'm coming. I think I do need some food."

Ron escorted him to the dining hall but barely said a word to him during the whole meal. Harry resolved to sit with him more regularly, if only to avoid the daily annoyance of being asked to eat.

* * * * * * * *

Today I have to write with my left hand because I smashed my right one up in a fight with that git Malfoy. It's a lot easier to write than I thought. Anyway, Snape gave me a detention again, and I was really angry. Stupid Malfoy asked me if I looked upset because I'd "killed someone" again. His Dad's in Azkaban, but he still found out what happened with Sirius last year. He keeps talking about it. I said, "Not as many as your father has," and punched him in the face a few times. Then I Obliviated him and made him think the Creevys did it. He's really embarrassed now, and it's really funny.

I Glamoured my hand so it doesn't look bruised, but it still hurts. Nobody will ask about it though. I'll have to learn some healing charms soon. Maybe I could just numb it, and it wouldn't hurt ever again. I've been having bad headaches, so maybe I could numb my stupid scar too.

The real reason I'm writing is that that ignorant fool Dumbledore was harassing me about learning Occlumency again. I told him that Legilimency was more practical, and that I could learn it on my own. He evaluated me with his eyes and told me that I must have learned more than he thought this summer, so he won't ask again. Finally, he'll stop being so invasive since he can't get what he wants. Maybe I'll get some more freedom.

* * * * * * *

Harry's headaches had become frequent, which drove him to collect piles of medical books from the library. He found he had developed a knack for healing spells and potions, which was fortunate because sometimes his migraines were so bad he couldn't even remember how he spent his day. The only times he felt truly rested and calm were when he was alone or asleep. Gradually, they faded until he felt normal again.

* * * * * * *

Everyone has gone to Hogsmeade today. It's really boring around here. I was wandering around earlier, and I decided to pay a visit to Myrtle in the first floor bathroom. She was moaning and whinging about how I never come around,

...so I told the stupid Mudblood to shut up. She's even more annoying now than when she was alive. She went off into the toilet in a huff. How disgusting. I went down to the Chamber to find my old belongings, but they were gone. However, I discovered something much more important there, that I have a completely new set of memories that are missing. Ginny Weasley had opened my diary four years ago. I must extract them from her immediately. She had released the Basilisk, and then Harry Potter had killed it. Its body was gone. Dumbledore must have ransacked my Chamber. I really have no patience for his meddling. It seems he also discovered the crypt behind Slytherin's statue. My books, research, artifacts, crystals, everything was removed. Not that my infantile experiments really matter anymore.

I found Salazar's silver snake pendant under some rocks, not far from where I found it originally. It had been waiting for me. I think I'll wear it again. Oh, and I really need a new basilisk. Harry will make himself useful investigating that.

On the way back, I found a Boggart in a broom closet. I think I'll put it in the Gryffindor common room. I could use some entertainment while I'm waiting.

* * * * * * *

A splitting scream rent the air early the next morning. "Oh, my God, HARRY! NO!" wafted Hermione's voice up the stairs to where Harry lay thinking on his bed. She must have opened the cloakroom. As Ron pounded down the stairs, Harry wondered why he wasn't concerned, instead searching for his slippers. Then she sobbed, "Oh, Ron, it's horrible! I can't go in there! Harry--"

"Harry's upstairs." Bitterly he added, "He's getting dressed instead of helping you. Now what's going on?" A moment later, he yelled, "DAD! Don't move! I'll kill it! I don't have my-- We have to help him!"

There they are. Now that his feet were clad, Harry descended the stairs to see Ron cowering and Hermione covering her face.

"I can't go in there! I'm sorry!"

Harry silently stepped behind Hermione and put his hand on her shoulder. "Would you mind explaining what's so horrible about me?"

She spun around, fear creasing her tear-stained face before running out the common room door, probably to the library. Harry walked past her to Ron. Mr. Weasley was lying on the floor covered in blood. A huge black and silver snake was wrapped tightly around his neck, scales shining in contrast with his bluish red face. Its long fangs were poised to strike again.

"Harry, talk to it!" Ron grabbed his shirt. Harry extricated himself and started to laugh. He really didn't know why he started at first, but then he couldn't stop himself. The whole situation was so absurdly funny, and for Ron to ask him for help... well, that was the best part of all.

Ron froze. Harry's face was pale, his eyes red and ringed, his hair disheveled, so that he looked like a madman. And he was throwing back his head and laughing like one too.

"Can't you even tell what's real? You know your father isn't here, and as to the snake, constrictors aren't poisonous also. It's obviously a Boggart. I'm pleased to see that your fears have become more mature than merely arachnids, however."

"Don't-- don't laugh at me! What's wrong with you?" Weasley looked poised to punch his one-time friend, but he was so shocked he couldn't get his feet to move.

"It's a Boggart. I had to laugh. You wanted me to get rid of it, didn't you? See it's gone."

Ron stared at him and felt his sincerity, and his anger drained away. He was suddenly getting tired... "Yeah. It's gone. Thanks." He shook his head a little and headed up the stairs. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I should get some more sleep."

Ginny Weasley rushed into the room. "Did you see Hermione, Harry? Something's wrong with her. She was crying, and-"

"Ah, Ginny, it's a shame you were late. I've been waiting for you." Voldemort searched her eyes. Ah, there. The missing pieces... Very useful. Harry's mouth imitated Tom's most charming smile. "I've missed you, you know."

"Harry?" Her eyes flickered when she approached him. He brushed her messy red hair with the back of his hand. "Oh, I've missed you too," she realized slowly.