The next morning, he was woken with a loud shout from outside his door.
'Guess they found out.' Harry thought with a grimace as he slid back under the covers.
Outside, a raging battled was going on between Ron Weasley and the nurse.
"What do you mean we can't see him?!" Ron yelled.
"Mr. Weasley, you must keep your voice down!" The nurse was speaking in a harsh whisper, "I am just doing what was requested. Now please sit down and wait for Dr. Johansson." The quiet padding of her shoes was replaced with the murmuring of several people outside his door.
"This is crazy!" Harry heard Hermione say.
"Why won't they let us in?" This was a quieter, calmer voice that Harry assumed was Mrs. Weasley.
"I want to have a word with that doctor." Sirius said and that provoked more muttering.
"Sirius." A voice began. 'Ha! I'm right about who it was!' Harry thought happily. It was then that he realized he desperately needed something to do if this was his entertainment. "Did he seem odd to you yesterday?" Probably Professor Lupin, Harry guessed. Always the calm logical one and the voice of reason.
"Not really. A little sad." Oh, that was an understatement if he ever heard one. "Maybe a little distant. He was very upset with Albus so it was hard to tell."
"What did Dumbledore tell him?" Hermione asked.
"I'm not the one to tell you." Thank God for that. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at knowing it was all a secret. He knew his friends could handle the fact he was a parseltounge but add in the fact that he was Slytherin's heir and Voldemort's grandson.He shuddered to think of what would happen.
"Excuse me." Another voice joined the group outside. How many people were out there? "Why is everyone standing outside Harry's door?" The doctor had come at last.
"Weren't you the one who said Harry Potter could have no visitors?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"I did no such thing, but if it's true then I'll have to ask you all to wait in the waiting room. That is what it's there for." Trust his doctor to be cracking jokes at inappropriate times.
More sounds of feet shuffling and then the door creaked open.
"Harry? Are you awake?"
"Yeah. They all woke me up." He said as he stretched himself into sitting position.
"And why are they out there when they could be in here?"
"You wouldn't believe it if I said I had no idea?" He tried weakly but stopped when the doctor shook his head no. "All right-you caught me." He threw his hands up in the air and laid back down on the bed. "I did it. I requested that I wanted no visitors."
"Was it when you snuck out?" The doctor said as he raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
"It wasn't like I woke up that afternoon and thought to myself, 'Gee, I wonder how I can cause panic and chaos in this hospital'. It was sort of an accident."
"Oh do tell. The adventures of Harry Potter interest me to no end."
"Well I had just told the nurse my request and then I saw this shadowy figure."
"Ah, the shadowy figure." He bobbed his head, thinking this over. "All the great horror movies have one."
"I had a wand." He protested weakly but continued his story when he saw the doctor smile. "Anyway, I followed the shadow to the mental ward and found Neville Longbottom."
"Say no more. Neville's here a lot. I think they actually have a room for him. It's really sad about his parents." He bowed his head in thought and then looked up again. "Now, let's get you checked out."
"Oh joy!" Harry said as he clasped his hands together but otherwise, just stayed put and watched the doctor say the quick spell. "Dr. Johansson?" He questioned after the doctor was done.
"Oh for goodness-just call me Joe, okay? I feel so old." He said with a smile.
"Okay, then Joe." Harry couldn't help as a giggle escaped his lips. "Sorry- seems odd. Did your parents seriously name you Joe Johansson?" He pursed his lips to try and stop himself from smiling.
"Of course not. My parents were nice. It's William Johansson but I went by Joe a lot."
"Okay Joe. Anyway, what spell do you keep using on me?"
"It's called the Personal Information Spell."
"Wow, they must of run out of creative names before they got to this spell."
"The name doesn't matter. Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted," He glared at Harry who smiled back cheerily, "You just say the spell and then add the person's or animal's name and it will give you all the information on them. Quite handy really."
"How does it go?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Why, want to become a doctor?"
Harry sat in the bed and considered it for a minute or two. "I don't know. Maybe but this is just for curiosity-no learning involved."
"Fine-but I hope you don't use it for evil purposes." Dr. Joe said as he sighed and took out his wand.
"Such as?"
"I don't know. How about finding out if a person is a virgin or not?"
"Really? You just gave me a way to use it! Joe-I'm beginning to think you have a rebellious streak in you." Harry mock scolded the doctor.
"Don't tell the other doctors. Anyway-the spell is historicus corporeus. You can try it if you want."
"Okay." Reaching over and grabbing his wand, he slid off the bed and faced the doctor. "If this goes wrong, it's a good thing we're in the hospital." He thought he saw the doctor's eyes widen but he just ignored it. "Historicus Corporeus William Johansson!" A golden beam shot out of Harry's wand and stayed in front the doctor before forming words. "Cool." Scrolling through quickly, he made the light go away.
"Impressive. It took me a week to master that."
"Thanks. How long do I need to stay in the hospital, anyway?" He asked as he crawled back into bed.
"Couple weeks." At Harry's shocked expression he added, "We need to wait for your body to cleanse itself of the magic."
"Do I have to stay in bed the whole time?" He asked, eyes pleading the answer to be no.
"Only if you keep sneaking out at midnight."
"Deal. How about three in the morning?" At the doctor's scowl he smiled, "Kidding, kidding."
"Are you ever going to let your friends in?" He asked, gesturing towards the door.
"When I feel like it. I don't want to talk to them now."
"Okay, that's fine. But just remember, this room isn't an escape from your world. It can't protect you or offer you any peace. It's just prolonging the inevitable."
"Doctor and counselor. Aren't I fortunate?" Harry said as he watched the doctor walk out of the room and shut the door.
Getting up, Harry quickly ran into the bathroom, took a shower, got redressed and took care of everything else before running back out and sliding over the tiles to the pensieve that was sitting on top of his trunk. Gathering the heavy item in his arm, he made his way back to the bed. He looked at the basin in shock. Unlike Dumbledore's, no silvery stuff was floating around. Instead, it was just an empty stone bowl. He spotted a note sitting on top of it and quickly opened it and read.
Harry,
I can't tell you how much it means to me that you have agreed to do this. I understand there are painful memories but you can't just pretend they don't exist and it might make it easier to deal with them instead of keeping them locked in your mind. The instructions to use it are simple. To place a memory in, all you need to do is concentrate on the memory while placing a wand to your temple. Then pull the wand away and place it on the rim of the bowl. To remove one, place the wand on the side of the bowl, think of the memory you want to get rid of and when it appears, pull the wand away and press it to your temple. Fairly easy, no? Good luck and if it's not too much trouble, the Aurors would like to view it.
~Ari
Direct and to the point-that was Ari. Rereading the end of the note he felt anger rise inside him. How dare she show all of his memories to the Aurors! He was doing this for her mother-not for a bunch of ministry workers. He would protest later, but now, he wanted to get it over with.
He quickly thought of everything that had happened. Flashes of Voldemort, Deatheaters, blood, Mrs. Figg and total chaos flooded his mind. But what occurred the most were the glimpses of red: blood, hate, anger, pain. He place his wand to his temple and the to the bowl. A silvery strand ghosted across the surface before it finally settled down in a swirling motion. Then a thought struck Harry.
'What if they saw too much?' There was only one way to know for sure and he wasn't liking the option very much. He sat on the bed and stared off into space for about ten minutes, trying to think of other ways to know for sure. Wasn't experiencing it once enough? Why must he do it again? He knew what he had to do. So with firm resolve, he gripped his wand with a shaky hand and lowered it over the bowl before pressing it gently in the mist.
~o00o~
After the fog had cleared, he found himself in a living room. There on the floor he watched his past self and Mrs. Dorothy Figg playing a card game on the worn carpet, with their backs against the couch.
"Ha! I win again!" Dorothy shouted as she threw the remaining cards down and did a little victory dance.
Past Harry was laughing as she sat back down breathless. Present Harry closed his eyes, trying to block out the scene. The last time he had seen her alive.
"No fair! You're like fifty years older. You have more experience." Past Harry protested as he threw his cards on the ground and began shuffling them.
"Another time, Harry?" She asked with a smile.
"We're going to play until I win." He declared. Present Harry mouthed the words-this would forever be etched in his memory.
"I guess this means no sleep tonight!" She said with a smile as she looked around the room. "I wonder where Ari and Sirius are? It's eleven thirty!"
"I don't know. Maybe." But he never finished his sentences. At the moment, the door flew open, revealing cloaked figures. The summer wind swept their cloaks around them, making them seem more mysterious and dangerous than ever. The leader, pulling back his hood, smiled a grim smile as his red eyes shone with animalistic hunger.
Voldemort. Harry could feel the pain ripple through his scar.
"Stand behind me Harry." Dorothy whispered as she grabbed her wand and rose to her feet. "Leave at once!" she yelled to the stranger.
"And miss all the fun? Never!" Voldemort said in an even tone. Voldemort turned to his two lackeys and immediately they sprung forward, shouting spells. Before Harry even had time to blink, he was already tied up with ropes that ran from the ceiling to the floor. Across the room, he saw Dorothy in the same position.
Clapping his hands together once, Voldemort crossed the room and grabbed Harry's chin so he was looking him in the face.
"Yes." He breathed, his voice hissing like a snake, "Yes, this is fun and I haven't even brought out the games." He moved to the side so Harry could watch as one of the figures removed a cloth. The light danced over the silver and Harry shivered. There, arranged on a small table lay about twenty knives of all different sizes just screaming to cut something. Voldemort crossed over to the knives and picked up a small one and ran his finger along the edge softly. Blood poured from the cut and he closed his eyes is pleasure. "Just wait Harry Potter-the fun's just beginning."
At first, Harry had been so sure that those knives were to be embedded into his flesh within moments of their arrivals. But half and hour passed and one had yet to mar his skin. Instead, he watched a worse torture. Dorothy hung across from him, her hair hanging down in limp strands, matted by the blood, sweat and tears. Around fifteen of the knives had slashed at her skin but she remained strong and had yet to cry out in pain. Harry had doubted whether he would have lasted around five.
"You know Dorothy." Voldemort began in a conversational tone as he reached over the tray and grabbed a twisted dagger. "You're stronger than I thought. Haven't screamed or cried. Really disappointing." He cut across her stomach; soaking her already blood covered clothes. "Maybe if I cut out your vocal cords than you'll have a reason for your silence." He raised the dagger and let it slide across her jugular before twisting sharply into the side of it. A stream of blood drifted down her collarbone before joining the millions of drops the puddle around her feet.
"No! Stop!" Harry cried, struggling against the bonds. It seemed the wizard or witch who used the silencing spell on him let it finally wear off. His wrists and ankles were now only covered with his red, raw flesh and blood began to drip occasionally down his arm when he started struggling too much.
"Ah. Mr. Potter. Feeling neglected?" He gave Harry a smirk that Harry glared at but that seemed to only make him laugh harder. "Oh, well. I suppose we can play with you now." He said with childhood innocence. If Harry had any doubts about Voldemort having any sanity-they were crushed now.
When the first knife touched Harry's skin on his chest, as his shirt had been ripped off and now hung torn and trapped by the ropes, he felt anger instead of fear. Here, this bastard was enjoying playing human pincushion with him after he had finished torturing the closest thing he had to a grandmother. His scar hurt more than ever. The knife pricked across his skin, letting red drops fall in a stead stream, trickling down his newly bronzed chest, the pooling at his navel before latching on to his jeans and staining them crimson. Then without warning, Voldemort grabbed the twisted knife and embedded it in his lower arm. Pain ripped through his arm as he bit his lip to keep from making a sound.
"You know, Harry Potter," Voldemort began, twisting the knife to each side, shredding the muscles and bone that lay beneath it, "One quick motion and your life is all over. But where's the fun in that? I'm going to make you feel all the pain you gave me fifteen years ago." In a fluid movement, Harry felt a sharp pain in his side and glanced down to see the grip of a knife sticking out of his lower side. He took this time to glance up at Dorothy. Her head was hanging down and rolling to the side as blood from every part of her body fell to the floor, forming a large puddle underneath her. That was all the strength he needed as he looked back at Voldemort and glared with all the hatred he could muster. "Why, Mister Potter-if looks could kill." He laughed mirthlessly and raised a wand with his now empty hands, as the knife he had been using was now inside Harry's side. "But we don't want to kill yet. Crucio!" He felt pain thread its way through his body and he twisted in agony, which only served to drive the knife in deeper. An hour had passed and Harry could no longer feel the knife scrape across his skin. He was sure all of his sensory nerves were dead as he hung his head down and let it loll around his shoulders.
This whole time, Dorothy had been silent, drifting from consciousness to unconsciousness. Harry himself was so tired. He was sure he had passed out at least once. He could no longer hold his head up or count the number of marks his body had. After a while, he heard the snap of a rope and the next second, he was on the floor, his face lying in his blood that had seeped from his wounds.
"Harry, I don't think you're enjoying our game. Maybe we should give you a turn. Imperio!" Suddenly everything that had once seemed important-such as staying alive-ceased to seem so. He felt so light with no care in the world. He wanted to drown in the feeling until pain and suffering failed to exist. Then he heard the voice. "Pick up the knife." It whispered. Why not obey the voice? He was too weak to protest and dutifully did as he was told. He could make out that the knife was sharp and already had blood staining it but it didn't matter to him. "Go over to Dorothy Figg." His feet moved on his own accord and before he knew it, he was standing in front of her, knife poised for attack. She looked up at him and tears shone in her eyes as she saw the cloudy vacant look his eyes held. "Stab her in her heart." The voice insisted louder. Even through the curse, he watched as her lips quickly mouthed the words 'I love you.'
It was then that he finally began to break through. He lowered the knife that had been pointed at her heart. "Do it!" The voice egged on. The thrall was back and his knife was raised again. But his movements were jerky as the two voices in his head took control. Voldemort's voice screamed at him to thrust the knife in her chest and it finally grew to strong for Harry in his weakened state. Instead of ramming it in her heart, he managed at the last moment to will the knife to stab her in the upper thigh instead. Her lip trembled as she concealed a scream.
"You never fail to surprise me. I'll admit, when I came here, I wanted to kill you." Voldemort said as he walked past Harry, who was slowly gaining the upper hand in fighting for control of his mind, "But now I don't. Now I want to break you." As he said this, he grabbed a plain dagger and thrust it into Dorothy's chest before twisting it, making her scream in pain-then she said no more. She made no more noise or movements. She just hung there, eyes glassy and open, her life had already been ended but her blood continued to fall to the ground.
"No!" Harry shouted as he reached for her. "No." He whispered more quietly as he touched a hand to her cheek, which was already becoming cold. He gently pressed her eyelids closed as he stepped away from her body. It was then that he became aware of the knife he still possessed. He whirled around to face Voldemort. The man, no he wasn't a man, the monster was laughing at the sight of her mangled body. Red flashed before his eyes: Anger, his blood, Dorothy's blood. Now Harry wanted to see Voldemort's. He plunged the dagger into his upper chest and caught him off guard. Instead of screaming in pain, he simply laughed as he pulled the dagger out and tossed it to the ground, smirking at Harry's wide-eyed expression.
"Did you think that would kill me? It's merely a flesh wound. I'm an immortal, greater than death!" He laughed maniacally as he gripped his wand and raised it. "It's been fun Potter, but now it's time to end it-but first." He reached forward and grabbed Harry's arm, pushing him up against a wall. He jerked the sleeve up, revealing unblemished flesh. Leaning close, he whispered in his ear, "I've scarred you, broken you but now I want own you." Harry barely heard the words he muttered as he placed the tip of his want to his arm. But the words didn't matter as a searing pain swept across his arm, traveling until it reached his scar, which burned a brilliant white and erupted with pain. After seconds that seemed like an eternity the wand was taken away from his skin but left a blackened skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth in place. The Dark Mark.
"Now it's time to end it. Goodbye Harry Potter. May we never meet again." He raised his wand slowly and stepped back about two feet before pointing the wand at his scar. Then he spoke the two words that seemed to always follow Harry "Avada Kedavra." The sound of rushing water filled his ears as he watched the green beam shoot towards him. He felt that his brain should have been muddled but instead it was perfectly clear.
Stretching out two hands before him, he concentrated on the green energy and then whispered one word. "Imperio." Forcing all of his magical energy into those words, he watched as the green light met the light blue light his hands emitted. Green swirled with blue, twisting and turning, each fighting to dominate each other. After a moment, the green gave in and allowed itself to be lost in the blue. Using his hands still, Harry pushed all the energy the two curses had at Voldemort. He had barely enough time to register Voldemort's eyes widen slightly as the blue light entered his chest and then he was gone. Not forever, but for the time being. He turned towards the other two who were cowering in fear. At the time Harry had no idea why but know he could see: His eyes had turned a solid green and his finger tips crackled with energy just waiting to be unleashed. His hair stood on end and a heavy wind seemed to swirl around him, lifting his feet up so he hovered in the air. They then scrambled to their feet before dashing out the front door that had been blown off their hinges when they first arrived. Harry glanced around the living room one last time, surveying the over turned chairs, broken tables and crooked picture frames. The floors were littered with knives, blood and fragments of wood. The walls were splattered with Harry's blood where Voldemort had pushed him. Dorothy's body hung limply. It was the image of chaos. He thought no more as the wind subsided and his legs gave way. He collapsed on the ground and watched as his world blackened.
~o00o~
For anyone who actually reads this story, I am so sorry for taking so long. I just finished my finals so I have all of this extra time on my hands. Truthfully, I just stared at my computer and thought my story sucked-but I think being busy sounds better.
Thanks to everyone for the reviews.
Also, does anybody have any suggestions for the pairings? I am up for any and all pairings and right now I need a direction to go to because if I wait too long my story will sound like a Mary Sue. She's one of my characters who will NOT be ending up with Harry unless it happens towards the very, very end of my story's sequel's sequel. I plan to make it long.
Oh, also: I know that anti-depressants should take longer to work, but as I had a three month timeframe to work with and I didn't want Harry to be all mopey for the summer. Let's just pretend that they are a special kind.
'Guess they found out.' Harry thought with a grimace as he slid back under the covers.
Outside, a raging battled was going on between Ron Weasley and the nurse.
"What do you mean we can't see him?!" Ron yelled.
"Mr. Weasley, you must keep your voice down!" The nurse was speaking in a harsh whisper, "I am just doing what was requested. Now please sit down and wait for Dr. Johansson." The quiet padding of her shoes was replaced with the murmuring of several people outside his door.
"This is crazy!" Harry heard Hermione say.
"Why won't they let us in?" This was a quieter, calmer voice that Harry assumed was Mrs. Weasley.
"I want to have a word with that doctor." Sirius said and that provoked more muttering.
"Sirius." A voice began. 'Ha! I'm right about who it was!' Harry thought happily. It was then that he realized he desperately needed something to do if this was his entertainment. "Did he seem odd to you yesterday?" Probably Professor Lupin, Harry guessed. Always the calm logical one and the voice of reason.
"Not really. A little sad." Oh, that was an understatement if he ever heard one. "Maybe a little distant. He was very upset with Albus so it was hard to tell."
"What did Dumbledore tell him?" Hermione asked.
"I'm not the one to tell you." Thank God for that. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at knowing it was all a secret. He knew his friends could handle the fact he was a parseltounge but add in the fact that he was Slytherin's heir and Voldemort's grandson.He shuddered to think of what would happen.
"Excuse me." Another voice joined the group outside. How many people were out there? "Why is everyone standing outside Harry's door?" The doctor had come at last.
"Weren't you the one who said Harry Potter could have no visitors?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"I did no such thing, but if it's true then I'll have to ask you all to wait in the waiting room. That is what it's there for." Trust his doctor to be cracking jokes at inappropriate times.
More sounds of feet shuffling and then the door creaked open.
"Harry? Are you awake?"
"Yeah. They all woke me up." He said as he stretched himself into sitting position.
"And why are they out there when they could be in here?"
"You wouldn't believe it if I said I had no idea?" He tried weakly but stopped when the doctor shook his head no. "All right-you caught me." He threw his hands up in the air and laid back down on the bed. "I did it. I requested that I wanted no visitors."
"Was it when you snuck out?" The doctor said as he raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
"It wasn't like I woke up that afternoon and thought to myself, 'Gee, I wonder how I can cause panic and chaos in this hospital'. It was sort of an accident."
"Oh do tell. The adventures of Harry Potter interest me to no end."
"Well I had just told the nurse my request and then I saw this shadowy figure."
"Ah, the shadowy figure." He bobbed his head, thinking this over. "All the great horror movies have one."
"I had a wand." He protested weakly but continued his story when he saw the doctor smile. "Anyway, I followed the shadow to the mental ward and found Neville Longbottom."
"Say no more. Neville's here a lot. I think they actually have a room for him. It's really sad about his parents." He bowed his head in thought and then looked up again. "Now, let's get you checked out."
"Oh joy!" Harry said as he clasped his hands together but otherwise, just stayed put and watched the doctor say the quick spell. "Dr. Johansson?" He questioned after the doctor was done.
"Oh for goodness-just call me Joe, okay? I feel so old." He said with a smile.
"Okay, then Joe." Harry couldn't help as a giggle escaped his lips. "Sorry- seems odd. Did your parents seriously name you Joe Johansson?" He pursed his lips to try and stop himself from smiling.
"Of course not. My parents were nice. It's William Johansson but I went by Joe a lot."
"Okay Joe. Anyway, what spell do you keep using on me?"
"It's called the Personal Information Spell."
"Wow, they must of run out of creative names before they got to this spell."
"The name doesn't matter. Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted," He glared at Harry who smiled back cheerily, "You just say the spell and then add the person's or animal's name and it will give you all the information on them. Quite handy really."
"How does it go?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Why, want to become a doctor?"
Harry sat in the bed and considered it for a minute or two. "I don't know. Maybe but this is just for curiosity-no learning involved."
"Fine-but I hope you don't use it for evil purposes." Dr. Joe said as he sighed and took out his wand.
"Such as?"
"I don't know. How about finding out if a person is a virgin or not?"
"Really? You just gave me a way to use it! Joe-I'm beginning to think you have a rebellious streak in you." Harry mock scolded the doctor.
"Don't tell the other doctors. Anyway-the spell is historicus corporeus. You can try it if you want."
"Okay." Reaching over and grabbing his wand, he slid off the bed and faced the doctor. "If this goes wrong, it's a good thing we're in the hospital." He thought he saw the doctor's eyes widen but he just ignored it. "Historicus Corporeus William Johansson!" A golden beam shot out of Harry's wand and stayed in front the doctor before forming words. "Cool." Scrolling through quickly, he made the light go away.
"Impressive. It took me a week to master that."
"Thanks. How long do I need to stay in the hospital, anyway?" He asked as he crawled back into bed.
"Couple weeks." At Harry's shocked expression he added, "We need to wait for your body to cleanse itself of the magic."
"Do I have to stay in bed the whole time?" He asked, eyes pleading the answer to be no.
"Only if you keep sneaking out at midnight."
"Deal. How about three in the morning?" At the doctor's scowl he smiled, "Kidding, kidding."
"Are you ever going to let your friends in?" He asked, gesturing towards the door.
"When I feel like it. I don't want to talk to them now."
"Okay, that's fine. But just remember, this room isn't an escape from your world. It can't protect you or offer you any peace. It's just prolonging the inevitable."
"Doctor and counselor. Aren't I fortunate?" Harry said as he watched the doctor walk out of the room and shut the door.
Getting up, Harry quickly ran into the bathroom, took a shower, got redressed and took care of everything else before running back out and sliding over the tiles to the pensieve that was sitting on top of his trunk. Gathering the heavy item in his arm, he made his way back to the bed. He looked at the basin in shock. Unlike Dumbledore's, no silvery stuff was floating around. Instead, it was just an empty stone bowl. He spotted a note sitting on top of it and quickly opened it and read.
Harry,
I can't tell you how much it means to me that you have agreed to do this. I understand there are painful memories but you can't just pretend they don't exist and it might make it easier to deal with them instead of keeping them locked in your mind. The instructions to use it are simple. To place a memory in, all you need to do is concentrate on the memory while placing a wand to your temple. Then pull the wand away and place it on the rim of the bowl. To remove one, place the wand on the side of the bowl, think of the memory you want to get rid of and when it appears, pull the wand away and press it to your temple. Fairly easy, no? Good luck and if it's not too much trouble, the Aurors would like to view it.
~Ari
Direct and to the point-that was Ari. Rereading the end of the note he felt anger rise inside him. How dare she show all of his memories to the Aurors! He was doing this for her mother-not for a bunch of ministry workers. He would protest later, but now, he wanted to get it over with.
He quickly thought of everything that had happened. Flashes of Voldemort, Deatheaters, blood, Mrs. Figg and total chaos flooded his mind. But what occurred the most were the glimpses of red: blood, hate, anger, pain. He place his wand to his temple and the to the bowl. A silvery strand ghosted across the surface before it finally settled down in a swirling motion. Then a thought struck Harry.
'What if they saw too much?' There was only one way to know for sure and he wasn't liking the option very much. He sat on the bed and stared off into space for about ten minutes, trying to think of other ways to know for sure. Wasn't experiencing it once enough? Why must he do it again? He knew what he had to do. So with firm resolve, he gripped his wand with a shaky hand and lowered it over the bowl before pressing it gently in the mist.
~o00o~
After the fog had cleared, he found himself in a living room. There on the floor he watched his past self and Mrs. Dorothy Figg playing a card game on the worn carpet, with their backs against the couch.
"Ha! I win again!" Dorothy shouted as she threw the remaining cards down and did a little victory dance.
Past Harry was laughing as she sat back down breathless. Present Harry closed his eyes, trying to block out the scene. The last time he had seen her alive.
"No fair! You're like fifty years older. You have more experience." Past Harry protested as he threw his cards on the ground and began shuffling them.
"Another time, Harry?" She asked with a smile.
"We're going to play until I win." He declared. Present Harry mouthed the words-this would forever be etched in his memory.
"I guess this means no sleep tonight!" She said with a smile as she looked around the room. "I wonder where Ari and Sirius are? It's eleven thirty!"
"I don't know. Maybe." But he never finished his sentences. At the moment, the door flew open, revealing cloaked figures. The summer wind swept their cloaks around them, making them seem more mysterious and dangerous than ever. The leader, pulling back his hood, smiled a grim smile as his red eyes shone with animalistic hunger.
Voldemort. Harry could feel the pain ripple through his scar.
"Stand behind me Harry." Dorothy whispered as she grabbed her wand and rose to her feet. "Leave at once!" she yelled to the stranger.
"And miss all the fun? Never!" Voldemort said in an even tone. Voldemort turned to his two lackeys and immediately they sprung forward, shouting spells. Before Harry even had time to blink, he was already tied up with ropes that ran from the ceiling to the floor. Across the room, he saw Dorothy in the same position.
Clapping his hands together once, Voldemort crossed the room and grabbed Harry's chin so he was looking him in the face.
"Yes." He breathed, his voice hissing like a snake, "Yes, this is fun and I haven't even brought out the games." He moved to the side so Harry could watch as one of the figures removed a cloth. The light danced over the silver and Harry shivered. There, arranged on a small table lay about twenty knives of all different sizes just screaming to cut something. Voldemort crossed over to the knives and picked up a small one and ran his finger along the edge softly. Blood poured from the cut and he closed his eyes is pleasure. "Just wait Harry Potter-the fun's just beginning."
At first, Harry had been so sure that those knives were to be embedded into his flesh within moments of their arrivals. But half and hour passed and one had yet to mar his skin. Instead, he watched a worse torture. Dorothy hung across from him, her hair hanging down in limp strands, matted by the blood, sweat and tears. Around fifteen of the knives had slashed at her skin but she remained strong and had yet to cry out in pain. Harry had doubted whether he would have lasted around five.
"You know Dorothy." Voldemort began in a conversational tone as he reached over the tray and grabbed a twisted dagger. "You're stronger than I thought. Haven't screamed or cried. Really disappointing." He cut across her stomach; soaking her already blood covered clothes. "Maybe if I cut out your vocal cords than you'll have a reason for your silence." He raised the dagger and let it slide across her jugular before twisting sharply into the side of it. A stream of blood drifted down her collarbone before joining the millions of drops the puddle around her feet.
"No! Stop!" Harry cried, struggling against the bonds. It seemed the wizard or witch who used the silencing spell on him let it finally wear off. His wrists and ankles were now only covered with his red, raw flesh and blood began to drip occasionally down his arm when he started struggling too much.
"Ah. Mr. Potter. Feeling neglected?" He gave Harry a smirk that Harry glared at but that seemed to only make him laugh harder. "Oh, well. I suppose we can play with you now." He said with childhood innocence. If Harry had any doubts about Voldemort having any sanity-they were crushed now.
When the first knife touched Harry's skin on his chest, as his shirt had been ripped off and now hung torn and trapped by the ropes, he felt anger instead of fear. Here, this bastard was enjoying playing human pincushion with him after he had finished torturing the closest thing he had to a grandmother. His scar hurt more than ever. The knife pricked across his skin, letting red drops fall in a stead stream, trickling down his newly bronzed chest, the pooling at his navel before latching on to his jeans and staining them crimson. Then without warning, Voldemort grabbed the twisted knife and embedded it in his lower arm. Pain ripped through his arm as he bit his lip to keep from making a sound.
"You know, Harry Potter," Voldemort began, twisting the knife to each side, shredding the muscles and bone that lay beneath it, "One quick motion and your life is all over. But where's the fun in that? I'm going to make you feel all the pain you gave me fifteen years ago." In a fluid movement, Harry felt a sharp pain in his side and glanced down to see the grip of a knife sticking out of his lower side. He took this time to glance up at Dorothy. Her head was hanging down and rolling to the side as blood from every part of her body fell to the floor, forming a large puddle underneath her. That was all the strength he needed as he looked back at Voldemort and glared with all the hatred he could muster. "Why, Mister Potter-if looks could kill." He laughed mirthlessly and raised a wand with his now empty hands, as the knife he had been using was now inside Harry's side. "But we don't want to kill yet. Crucio!" He felt pain thread its way through his body and he twisted in agony, which only served to drive the knife in deeper. An hour had passed and Harry could no longer feel the knife scrape across his skin. He was sure all of his sensory nerves were dead as he hung his head down and let it loll around his shoulders.
This whole time, Dorothy had been silent, drifting from consciousness to unconsciousness. Harry himself was so tired. He was sure he had passed out at least once. He could no longer hold his head up or count the number of marks his body had. After a while, he heard the snap of a rope and the next second, he was on the floor, his face lying in his blood that had seeped from his wounds.
"Harry, I don't think you're enjoying our game. Maybe we should give you a turn. Imperio!" Suddenly everything that had once seemed important-such as staying alive-ceased to seem so. He felt so light with no care in the world. He wanted to drown in the feeling until pain and suffering failed to exist. Then he heard the voice. "Pick up the knife." It whispered. Why not obey the voice? He was too weak to protest and dutifully did as he was told. He could make out that the knife was sharp and already had blood staining it but it didn't matter to him. "Go over to Dorothy Figg." His feet moved on his own accord and before he knew it, he was standing in front of her, knife poised for attack. She looked up at him and tears shone in her eyes as she saw the cloudy vacant look his eyes held. "Stab her in her heart." The voice insisted louder. Even through the curse, he watched as her lips quickly mouthed the words 'I love you.'
It was then that he finally began to break through. He lowered the knife that had been pointed at her heart. "Do it!" The voice egged on. The thrall was back and his knife was raised again. But his movements were jerky as the two voices in his head took control. Voldemort's voice screamed at him to thrust the knife in her chest and it finally grew to strong for Harry in his weakened state. Instead of ramming it in her heart, he managed at the last moment to will the knife to stab her in the upper thigh instead. Her lip trembled as she concealed a scream.
"You never fail to surprise me. I'll admit, when I came here, I wanted to kill you." Voldemort said as he walked past Harry, who was slowly gaining the upper hand in fighting for control of his mind, "But now I don't. Now I want to break you." As he said this, he grabbed a plain dagger and thrust it into Dorothy's chest before twisting it, making her scream in pain-then she said no more. She made no more noise or movements. She just hung there, eyes glassy and open, her life had already been ended but her blood continued to fall to the ground.
"No!" Harry shouted as he reached for her. "No." He whispered more quietly as he touched a hand to her cheek, which was already becoming cold. He gently pressed her eyelids closed as he stepped away from her body. It was then that he became aware of the knife he still possessed. He whirled around to face Voldemort. The man, no he wasn't a man, the monster was laughing at the sight of her mangled body. Red flashed before his eyes: Anger, his blood, Dorothy's blood. Now Harry wanted to see Voldemort's. He plunged the dagger into his upper chest and caught him off guard. Instead of screaming in pain, he simply laughed as he pulled the dagger out and tossed it to the ground, smirking at Harry's wide-eyed expression.
"Did you think that would kill me? It's merely a flesh wound. I'm an immortal, greater than death!" He laughed maniacally as he gripped his wand and raised it. "It's been fun Potter, but now it's time to end it-but first." He reached forward and grabbed Harry's arm, pushing him up against a wall. He jerked the sleeve up, revealing unblemished flesh. Leaning close, he whispered in his ear, "I've scarred you, broken you but now I want own you." Harry barely heard the words he muttered as he placed the tip of his want to his arm. But the words didn't matter as a searing pain swept across his arm, traveling until it reached his scar, which burned a brilliant white and erupted with pain. After seconds that seemed like an eternity the wand was taken away from his skin but left a blackened skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth in place. The Dark Mark.
"Now it's time to end it. Goodbye Harry Potter. May we never meet again." He raised his wand slowly and stepped back about two feet before pointing the wand at his scar. Then he spoke the two words that seemed to always follow Harry "Avada Kedavra." The sound of rushing water filled his ears as he watched the green beam shoot towards him. He felt that his brain should have been muddled but instead it was perfectly clear.
Stretching out two hands before him, he concentrated on the green energy and then whispered one word. "Imperio." Forcing all of his magical energy into those words, he watched as the green light met the light blue light his hands emitted. Green swirled with blue, twisting and turning, each fighting to dominate each other. After a moment, the green gave in and allowed itself to be lost in the blue. Using his hands still, Harry pushed all the energy the two curses had at Voldemort. He had barely enough time to register Voldemort's eyes widen slightly as the blue light entered his chest and then he was gone. Not forever, but for the time being. He turned towards the other two who were cowering in fear. At the time Harry had no idea why but know he could see: His eyes had turned a solid green and his finger tips crackled with energy just waiting to be unleashed. His hair stood on end and a heavy wind seemed to swirl around him, lifting his feet up so he hovered in the air. They then scrambled to their feet before dashing out the front door that had been blown off their hinges when they first arrived. Harry glanced around the living room one last time, surveying the over turned chairs, broken tables and crooked picture frames. The floors were littered with knives, blood and fragments of wood. The walls were splattered with Harry's blood where Voldemort had pushed him. Dorothy's body hung limply. It was the image of chaos. He thought no more as the wind subsided and his legs gave way. He collapsed on the ground and watched as his world blackened.
~o00o~
For anyone who actually reads this story, I am so sorry for taking so long. I just finished my finals so I have all of this extra time on my hands. Truthfully, I just stared at my computer and thought my story sucked-but I think being busy sounds better.
Thanks to everyone for the reviews.
Also, does anybody have any suggestions for the pairings? I am up for any and all pairings and right now I need a direction to go to because if I wait too long my story will sound like a Mary Sue. She's one of my characters who will NOT be ending up with Harry unless it happens towards the very, very end of my story's sequel's sequel. I plan to make it long.
Oh, also: I know that anti-depressants should take longer to work, but as I had a three month timeframe to work with and I didn't want Harry to be all mopey for the summer. Let's just pretend that they are a special kind.