I did what you asked, but it didn't work out as planned. The effects of the Wolfbane were nullified, and Lupin drank it all week. I sneaked out to see what would happen last night, confident in our ability to handle a werewolf, and wishing to see this in person with all my senses. I expected to hear him tear the door down, to attack everyone in sight with a bloodthirsty rage, charging toward his own execution. Unfortunately, Dumbledore interfered. Apparently, Lupin had realized before his transformation completed that the potion hadn't tamed him. Dumbledore had given him an emergency beacon to contact him, an enchanted book, which he sadly did not tear to shreds.
Dumbledore came charging down the hall as I removed myself from sight. He used an excellent stunning spell very promptly. I stepped behind him to survey the carnage. The office was already a disaster, a tribute to his beastly nature, but not at all the sight I'd hoped for. Lying unconscious in the middle of it, plainly thrown across the room by the spell, was the werewolf. Dumbledore whirled around, ready to hex me at first. "What are you doing here?" he spat before calming himself.
I gave him a charming, sincere smile. "I needed to talk to Remus. I didn't realize it was after dark already."
"Didn't you."
"I heard you shout. Is everything all right? Can I see him?"
"It is now." He kept an even voice, plainly requiring much control. I almost admired him, and I almost laughed. "Coming here was very foolhardy, even for you."
I ignored him. "I'd like to look at him for a moment. I've never seen a werewolf before."
"I don't think that he would like--"
I entered the office, kneeling next to the silver beast. I put a hand on its haunch. My snake necklace fell out of my shirt, touched its fur, and silently seared a scar into the animal's side. I fingered a bloody wound, the red liquid satiny and potent. I closed my eyes for a brief second and savored the power exuding from the dark creature, the exhilarating need to kill and the strength to achieve it. I slowed my panting breath and racing blood, pulling away before my reaction became too obvious. I've never felt anything like that before in my life. I needed to visit Ginny right away.
I rose and thanked Dumbledore. "I didn't think I'd ever get another chance." I met his eyes in challenge, knowing he could sense my experience, and he flinched. "If you don't need help, I'll go."
I enjoyed seeing the two of them so powerless. What could they do to me?
You have learned more than I could have hoped for. There will be no punishment for your failure. Lupin has become insignificant at this time. This diary has served its purpose. You have sufficiently cleared your mind of weakness and will no longer waste time writing in it. You will burn it immediately.
* * * * * * *
Harry now fully understood lust and power and wanted to experience them very, very soon. The wait until everyone had gone to sleep was unbearable. He could barely think. Every movement entreated him to act now, to satiate his urges. As soon as Ginny responded to the mental summons to go downstairs, he Imperiused her and silenced the common room. He didn't want a dream, he wanted reality, now. But for her... He told her it was her wedding night and she was in a beautiful dress. That would keep her quiet. "Tom!" she called out, blissfully unaware of the violence around her and bruises on her face, the scratches on her back. Whatever was really happening, she was happy. His first true experience of power made his head pound with flashes of light, strengthened him with blinding rage, and allowed him to purge his growing hatred of the world into the small pretty girl. It took all of Harry's resolve not to kill her, now that he'd truly tasted violence, now that all of Voldemort's exhilarating memories of murder were accessible to him, but Voldemort reined him in. 'She's useful. Keep her.' Resigned, he healed her obvious injuries, and waited for another opportunity.
* * * * * * *
Ron and Hermione were suddenly extra friendly with him the next day. They insisted that he eat with him at every meal. Of course, they were really just observing him, blindly following the commands of their imbecile headmaster, who had no concerns about putting their lives in danger.
"Come on, Harry. You'll miss dinner. You need to eat." Ron pulled on his sleeve.
"I wanted to talk to Ginny. Can we get her too?"
Ron bit his lip. "She's been feeling really sick. She's having a nap, and we really shouldn't wake her up."
It was a terrible shame to miss Ginny's nap, but eating that day wasn't entirely purposeless. Harry felt eyes upon him from the Slytherin table and heard a bit of a titter. He faced it in challenge and met the pale, smooth face of a lovely girl with sleek black hair who was giving him an appraising look. Delphie Collins, the half-blood seventh-year, he recalled, and also Head Girl whose traitor mother worked as an Auror for the Ministry. She wore a haughty expression when she briefly turned to whisper to her friends. She clearly deserved to be taken down, shown her station. When she gazed at him again, interest sparkled in her coy look. Ah, even better. She wants to be put in her place by me! Well, I'd hate to disappoint her.
He walked over to her, gave her a little kiss on the cheek, and whispered in her ear, "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
She blushed and replied, "Meet me tonight outside the Slytherin common room at midnight. I'll let you in."
"I'll be there."
Harry/Voldemort meant to frighten her that night as he pushed her onto the table in the common room. It seemed that it worked as she emitted a grunt and a squeal like a pig. He kissed her roughly, savoring the throbbing power and electrification it brought, and then bit her throat until he tasted blood-- but 'not too fast, not yet...'
He examined her expression and froze. She wasn't reacting properly; she had a secret. He heard a muffled giggle from behind the heavy green wallhangings on the adjacent wall. He gave Delphie an accusing glare and tightened his grip on her arms until his fingers left marks.
She smirked, "You're not supposed to be in here, you know, Harry. I know you've fallen from favor, so who do you think they would believe, the lunatic or the Head Girl?" A true Slytherin after all... Must she call me by that disgusting Muggle name? She rubbed her neck. "Even more a lunatic than I thought."
Voldemort made Harry appear appropriately shocked. She thought she could attempt to humiliate me. She thought she could beat me at my own game. "Come, now, let's discuss this reasonably." He let her go to gather his cloak from the floor, removing a bottle of champagne. "I'd hoped we could share this."
Her stupid little first-year sister, Saffron, came out from behind the curtains. "Can I have some too?"
Her idiocy astounds me. "Certainly. A peace offering, ladies. Now tell me what this is all about." He conjured and filled three crystal glasses.
"You and your Mudblood friend think you can get higher grades than I? Not if you're expelled." The Head Girl tossed her raven hair disdainfully.
"Well, since I seem to have seen through your brilliantly implemented plan, that's not likely, Delphinium." He leaned closer to the two girls, who appeared to be a little drunk already. "Did you two know that your lovely floral names are actually both noxious weeds*? Your parents planned that rather well. And quite suitably," he turned to Delphie, "yours is a poisonous one."
Her eyes widened in comprehension as Saffron slumped to the floor, blinking too quickly. He willed Delphie awake for a moment longer. "No one humiliates Lord Voldemort, least of all a Mudblood whore. Fortunately, I don't have time for this." With a small gesture, he incinerated her and her sister, leaving only a dark stain on the floor.
Harry was a bit disappointed that he couldn't have derived more entertainment from the girls, but Voldemort knew they were a waste of time. He hated that this young body and its original mind were too passionate to patiently implement his plans, but that wouldn't matter soon enough. He left Harry again for the night to gather his strength. It was nearly time for action.
* * * * * * *
Potions began as normal, until Harry felt a mild dizziness, a weak mental struggle, a sort of flash, and then the world around him looked somehow different, yet the same. Colors seemed more saturated, angles seemed sharper, and his improved eyes came to rest again upon Severus Snape's face.
He suddenly found himself visualizing a tall sallow man in a black silk cloak pointing a wand at a woman crouched in a corner, arms shielding her head. The hysterical sobbing of a young boy rang in his ears. The room came back into focus, and Harry was staring into Professor Snape's eyes so intently that he couldn't move his head. Voldemort whispered, "Sniveling child... traitor."
Snape stepped forward, breaking the mental connection. He looked both terrified and furious for a moment before regaining his professional composure toward the class, which had no idea why their teacher had frozen a moment before. His expression had changed to a contemptuous sneer, despite his shaking hands. "See me after class, Potter," he spat.
Voldemort spent the rest of class looking around the room in mild interest at his surroundings. He hadn't been physically present in class before even though his knowledge had stayed with Harry. But today was a special occasion. When the class had dispersed, his cold gaze again locked upon the professor's face.
"I don't know what you think--" Snape seethed, advancing upon the student, focusing all his self-control on not beating the child or drawing his wand.
Harry/Voldemort seemed absolutely unthreatened as he leaned close to him and whispered, "You have no right to speak to me that way. You may not be able to recognize me, Snape, but I am still your Lord and Master. I know your secrets. You will pay for your treason."
Snape sputtered a little before recognition showed.
"Very good. Crucio!"
Harry's body casually gathered his belongings as the professor lay writhing on the floor in agony, stepped over his body and exited. A feminine scream joined the masculine one, echoing down the hallway after someone entered the classroom.
* * * * * * *
"Harry! HARRY!" shrieked Ginny, bowling down the hall and knocking him down. She pointed her thin, little wand at his neck. "Oh, my God! Your eyes! I knew it was you! Somebody help! It's Tom, I mean Vol--"
In a swift movement with an electrical charge of adrenaline, he stood and snapped her wand with a flex of his hand, before seizing her throat. "You will listen to me. I know you think you're clever, but did you really believe that I'd let you know who I am by accident?"
A garbled sound like "Dumbledore" escaped her.
"Imperio! Yes, foolish girl, take me to him. I've waited long enough."
* * * * * * *
Albus Dumbledore was conferring with Remus Lupin when Voldemort threw open the door with the griffin knocker. Dumbledore paled at Harry's blazing red eyes. "Hello, Tom. Nice of you to finally visit me."
Voldemort's laugh echoed eerily in the small tower office. "How long ago did you come to that conclusion?" Dumbledore glanced at Ginny in concern and registered her blank expression. "Ah, I see. You initially required Miss Weasley's help. I suspected she'd come crying to you about her nightmares eventually. Well, you aren't half the fool I believed you to be."
"You left your own clues. Let her go, Tom. You don't want her."
"Yes, you're correct. She served her purpose." He gathered his fury at the naive, stupid, weak girl and turned his wand on her. "Avada Kedavra." In a powerful blast of emerald light and roaring wind, she fell to the floor with blank open eyes like a discarded porcelain doll.
Albus clearly hadn't expected such a quick response. He'd barely risen from his seat.
Voldemort turned a charming smile on him. "Harry's rather impulsive, isn't he? It was hard to make him use caution once he'd tasted power. He's a reckless Gryffindor, rather like his father." He casually twirled Harry's wand in his fingers.
"What do you want by using Harry like this?" The headmaster's voice sounded hoarse.
"Oh, I'll kill him eventually. For now, he's been most amusing and helpful. After all, I am standing in your office. He wants you to die, you know, after your large omission last year. And I've had quite enough of you."
Dumbledore shot up and exchanged a knowing glance with the silent Lupin, who had been actually experiencing his previously feigned shock once Ginny died. Lupin flicked his wand, and into the room floated five Dementors.
Voldemort faltered at the sight, surprised, but laughed, "I'm their master! Am I supposed to be frightened?"
Dumbledore murmured, "The Dementors never truly follow a master... and you should be frightened."
"Harry is," agreed Lupin, "or didn't you know that?"
The Dementors turned on Voldemort/Harry, who felt an uncharacteristic chill. His vision was blackening, and he began to shake. "I know you won't harm the boy."
The silence in the room was not reassuring.
Pain shot through Tom Riddle's back as the switch connected with badly healed scars. A beautiful young mother lay dead in a hospital bed, tears on her cheeks and a tiny baby on her chest. A dark-haired girl was thrown onto a rocky shore, purple bruises on her tilted neck, the price of betrayal. A boy lay beside her near a shiny trophy, startled mouth frozen open.
"Expecto--" Harry's body gasped, pale and sickly, with livid undereye rings, sliding to the ground slowly. He could barely think. Prostrated, he grabbed his hair, as if trying to pull himself up with it. Many strands ripped loose in his hands. He blindly groped for Dumbledore or Lupin, wanting to either inflict pain or beg for help.
The older wizard's voice answered. "Harry's afraid of Dementors, you know. He was almost Kissed his third year. But the Patronus Charm drove them away. I don't imagine you'd be very successful with it, do you?"
Lupin growled, "No happy thoughts? Maybe you'd better leave Harry alone."
'Kill them...' I'm not going to give up... He began to force himself to his knees.
Harry's elbow bled as a short balding man raised a dagger high, chopping off his own hand. Then, a woman was screaming, and a man was laughing. 'Don't hurt Harry!' With a blaze of light, Voldemort remembered being thrown from his body, ripped nearly into non-existence, a pitiful and infuriating weakness, forced to possess animals to stay alive. Then he saw the revolting child-sized demon that he'd become, relying on that imbecile Wormtail to feed him...
He put Harry's wand to his heart. "Do you... think I won't do it?" The Dementors drew closer, opening their mouths.
Tom crashed down the stairs, broken ribs bleeding through his shirt. The beds was on fire in Slytherin dorm... he was just angry; he hadn't meant to! Hermione lay Petrified in the hospital wing. Dumbledore was creeping into his mind, prying for information about the Chamber of Secrets. A dog chased Harry up a tree. An alley dog was dying, such a loyal friend, worth more than most people were worth, as Tom beat the boys who attacked it in revenge. An alley dog... a black dog...
Sirius laughed and fell through the Veil. Harry screamed and chased Bellatrix, heart pounding, shaking and ready to kill her with his bare hands. No, not Bellatrix. Voldemort. Voldemort tricked him. Sirius! Sirius loved him; Sirius had wanted to take him away from the Dursleys. Sirius had risked being captured for him, over and over again. No, Harry didn't want to die! 'Oh, my God, what happened to Ginny!' The Weasleys loved him, Remus loved him, I hate, no-- Dumbledore loved him. ('How have I treated them?!') The Dementors' breath rattled; Lupin shouted something. 'NO! GET OUT, TOM! I DON'T NEED YOU!
'They love me. I have to help them. Voldemort's here...'
"Expecto Patronum!!!"
The Dementors were gone, Voldemort had fled at the onslaught of memories and positive emotion. Harry lay drenched in a pool of fluids, exhausted and weak but free. Remus knelt to pick him up, and Dumbledore murmured, "Perhaps now you'll listen to my advice about anger."
Harry shot him an exasperated look. "You always have to have the last word."
Alarmed, the headmaster frowned.
"I'm not Tom, but that doesn't mean I don't agree with him. You push people away." His face went slack. He still wasn't really sure where Voldemort began and he ended. It would take time. "But you were right. None of this would have happened if I'd listened to you. You told me that depression and anger would make me susceptible to Voldemort. It just happened so slowly..." Harry twisted his head toward Ginny, as Lupin's arms turned him away. She looked so calm and innocent, like nothing was really wrong... except that he'd violated and murdered her. Nothing would ever be the same again. "Now I have to live with the consequences."
Dumbledore was silent for a long time, then spoke softly, "There is darkness within all of us, primal urges yearning to be released. We all have our demons, and they will never go away. We mustn't ignore the lessons they teach us."
"It could have been any one of us." Remus murmured. "I'm so sorry this happened to you." Harry remembered touching him on the full moon, the dangerous power that the werewolf exuded, but looking into the pained amber eyes, he saw only control.
The End.
-------------------------------
Author's Notes: The separation between Harry and Voldemort is supposed to be difficult to determine. During the times that were not written about, Harry is mostly normal, but depressed and withdrawn, and still a bit under the residual influence of Voldemort's intellect. The rest of the time, he's either directly controlled, or Voldemort's memories influence his behavior without direct commands, as their personalities merged.
Very special thanks to all who reviewed, including: Elwing Alcyone, evil harry= goodness, HoshiHikari4ever, PartyGirl2, DarkWolfyOne, and RaistlinofMetallica! Thanks for your encouragement!
*Delphinium, also known as dwarf larkspur. Saffron thistle.
