Potter47 Part One
Old Friends "The mind is never satisfied with the objects immediately before it,
but is always breaking away from the present moment,
and losing itself in schemes of future felicity..."
Samuel Johnson Chapter Two
From Privet Drive
"Hello, Harry!" said Mrs Weasley happily, emerging from the front door of the Burrow, to greet the guest.
"Hello, Mrs Weasley," said Harry in return. "Is Ginny home?" he asked curiously.
Mrs Weasley smirked knowingly at him. "She's in her room."
Harry hurriedly walked away from Mrs Weasley, without so much as another word. She stared after him wistfully.
Harry entered the front door, and before another second went by, he was at the foot of the stairs.
"Ginny!" Harry called up the stairwell. "It's Harry!"
Harry was ever so excited. He hadn't seen Ginny in weeks, and it seemed like years. Every night, he had had nightmares, about her being killed, and attacked. But now he would finally see her again.
Ginny didn't reply, so Harry called again. "Are you there?!" he asked.
"Go ahead up," said Mrs Weasley, popping up at Harry's shoulder. "She's probably reading or something."
Harry did as she said. He marched up the stairs of the Burrow for the first time in two years. It felt good to be back. He had most definitely missed it.
"Ginny?" he said again, once he reached the landing on which her door was situated. "Ginny, are you there?"
He could hear muffled sounds from behind the door. They sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place them.
"Ginny?" he said once again, knocking on her door with his knuckles. "Can I come in?"
He reached for the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. He had never been in Ginny's room before. It was bright pink, with frilly lace on all the furniture. That wasn't the only thing on the furniture, however...
Sitting atop the bed was Ginny, looking exactly as she had at King's Cross. In fact, she even had her school robes on still. However, she was not alone on the bed. Next to her was someone he had hoped never to see again. Tom Riddle.
Oh, and they were snogging.
Ginny pulled away from the young Dark Lord, and glanced dazedly at Harry. "Oh, Harry!" she said. "This is Tom! He's decided to visit! Hope you don't mind. Turns out I really don't love you, after all. I want to be with Tommy forever..."
"WHAT!" screamed Harry, horrified. "What do you mean?"
"She means," said Tom Riddle slyly, "that she really loves me. You have no purpose any longer." He raised a wand -- Harry's wand -- and aimed it at its owner.
Ginny laughed, as Riddle said the curse that would end it all.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"AHHHH!" Harry sprang up in bed, panting. His scar burned. He quickly scanned the premises. No Riddle. No Ginny. He let out a breath. Only a dream...
It wasn't entirely unique, to have a nightmare of Ginny. However, this was the first time he'd had this particular one. Never before had he dreamt that Ginny would...do that. No, that was absurd. Ginny would never snog Tom Riddle. She loved him. Harry. She had told him so.
Harry never really was able to fall back to sleep after a nightmare. As such, he got out of bed, and wandered over to the window. It was still early. He could see the moon above the perpetually uniform Little Whinging.
Full moon, he thought. Professor Lupin would probably be waking up from his latest transformation. Harry shivered, thinking of what his former professor went through every month. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. Luckily, he could take the Wolfsbane potion when he was living with the Order. Snape could make it.
Now that's a confusing subject. In the past five years, Harry had seen probably a dozen different faces of Snape. There was the get-out-of-my-sight-Potter-as-I-clearly-despise-everything-about-you face, and then there was the I'm-not-evil-and-I'm-trying-to-save-your-neck face, which was always a little bit better than the former. More recently, Harry had discovered the get-out-of-my-dungeon-you-weren't-supposed-to-look-at-my-Pensieve-and-I'm-not-teaching-anymore-Occlumency-and-I-told-you-your-father-was-a-git face, which was probably the most confusing of all.
How did Harry get to thinking about Snape? He had been thinking about Ginny.
Ginny...
What if something happens to Ginny? he thought for the millionth time. What if I'm just sitting here, waiting for Dumbledore's permission, and Voldemort attacks! I can't let that happen!
What was there to do, though? He couldn't just Apparate to the Burrow, of course, as he wasn't of-age. And it was likely that he still wouldn't be able to Apparate to the Burrow, even if he was seventeen; the wards around Privet Drive most likely prevented that.
The wards prevent Apparating... But what if he didn't Apparate?
Harry practically jumped over to his trunk. He slammed open the cover, only to catch it before it hit the wall. He checked the clock beside his bed.
The Dursley's wouldn't be up for at least an hour or two. Dudley, especially, never woke up early during the summer. When he did get up, he preferred the Hobbit way of doing things -- though Harry wasn't entirely sure if Hobbits had actually existed, or if they were just another Wizarding myth -- first breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, lunch, and Harry-forgot-what-else. But, of course, Dudley didn't eat nearly as much as he used to.
Harry quietly moved the books off to one side of his trunk. Beneath a paper-wrapped-something that he had probably forgot about, was his father's silvery Invisibility Cloak. He reached down and grasped the smooth fabric with his hand, pulling it out of the trunk. He could feel a tingling sensation in the back of his mind, and he came up with a plan. He sat down, leaning his back against the trunk.
I could sneak out...I could go sneak to the Burrow, and see her. I'd love to see her again... Who cares what Dumbledore says? He's an old fool, Dumbledore. Doesn't know what's good for me. He thinks he knows everything...
Harry shook his head.
But he does, doesn't he? He looked up at the ceiling, as if trying to see the attic above it. He's probably watching right now. He does know everything -- about me, anyway...
Harry's head snapped back to the silvery cloak in his hands. He gazed at it with a funny looking smile on his face.
But I would be free! Even if the old fool did know where I was, he couldn't find me. He can't see through Invisibility Cloaks...
Harry looked straight forward again, the smile gone.
Can't he? How would I know, anyway? Sure, he doesn't have an eye like Moody, but you never know.
HE CANNOT SEE THROUGH INVISIBILITY CLOAKS! Harry's mind screamed at him. It's impossible. The only way wizards can see through them is with magical eyes. The only way! Dumbledore could never find you!
Harry jumped to his feet, which seemed an entirely unexpected yet ordinary thing to do. Half of him expected it, while the other didn't.
YOU? he thought furiously. You mean me!
What?
You said you! WHO ARE YOU?
The thoughts in Harry's mind abruptly changed. From thoughts of escape to thoughts of revenge.
Who do you think I am, boy? Who else would I be? the thoughts hissed.
Voldemort, thought Harry.
The one and only. Nice room, Potter. A bit small, but you do live with Muggles...
GET OUT OF MY MIND!
Sorry, I can only be out of my mind. As I have been since I was born. Besides, there's plenty of room. What's Dumbledore been teaching you all these years? Only the Disarming Jinx?
Harry involuntarily remembered the Duelling Club in second year. Of Snape blasting Lockhart back across the stage.
Oh, Severus taught you that? I guess Dumbledore hasn't taught you anything... Who taught you the Time Freezing spell? Quite the spell, Harry. Of course, you won't be getting away with that one again. Precautions have been taken.
Once again, memories flashed through Harry's head that he would have preferred to leave buried within the depths of his mind. This time, of the Chamber of Secrets, in nineteen-forty-five.
I taught you that? Never would've guessed...
Get out of my mind! Harry thought again.
Develop a mental vocabulary, boy. Has dear Ginny not informed you of what it is like to be possessed? Irrelevant, I suppose. But this isn't possession, per se. You would not be conscious if this was possession. It's more of a...mental conversation. New experiment of mine. Of course, it has been a bit one-sided...
GET OUT OF MY MIND!
Please, Harry. You're giving me a headache.
Harry's head unwillingly looked about his room. So this is what the famous number four, Privet Drive looks like from the inside.... Would you mind giving me a tour? Oh, never mind. It's all here, inside your head...
This "mental conversation" as Voldemort had called it, was very much like having the Sorting Hat on. It was, of course, a much more unpleasant experience.
Ah, the Sorting Hat...good times. Final Slytherin of my year, I was. It took the old Hat only a few nanoseconds to make a decision with me; Slytherin, through and through. That's me.
Harry felt an odd (and it had to be pretty weird to qualify as odd, right now) tingle at the back of his mind.
No you're not, thought Harry. You're lying. The Sorting Hat took its time with you. He paused, remembering how, at the end of last year, he had known exactly what the prophecy was about. Now was very much the same; he knew what he was thinking was true. And it scared him, for the thoughts he was thinking had not ever been thought before, in his mind. His eyes widened as the revelation unveiled itself to his mind. It gave you a choice. You chose Slytherin...I didn't.
What? thought Voldemort to Harry, almost screaming. How did you know that?
It's all here, thought Harry ironically, inside your head.
Apparently, it wasn't a one-sided conversation.
You're lying, thought the Dark Lord, overly nervous. You can't see my thoughts. It doesn't work that way.
Harry laughed. Then how would I know that you fancied Professor McGonagall for three years?
I did not! Voldemort was getting impatient. He clearly didn't like the way the "conversation" was going. I-I created those memories for this conversation. They are not real. They were simply for you to become distracted, so that I could more easily access your mind. I've learned all I came for. See you round.
A tingling sensation announced Voldemort's abrupt departure. Harry didn't know what to think. Should I tell McGonagall?
The Dark Lord laughed.
He rose from his large, throne-like armchair, and strode out of the fire-lit room. Everything was falling into place.
"Master, was the experiment successful?" asked Lucius Malfoy, who had been waiting outside of the door. The servant had gladly offered Malfoy Manor when the Riddle House was no longer available.
"Perfectly." The Dark Lord strode quickly down the corridor, with Malfoy at his heels for a moment, before the servant could catch up.
Voldemort cast a sideways glance at Lucius Malfoy. "Will young Draco be ready, as you have promised? As you know, he must be initiated at full moon, or the mark will not function properly."
Malfoy looked nervously at his feet. "Draco...still has not turned up. We have been searching, but he seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet." He looked back up at Voldemort. "I know Potter must have done something to him. No one else would have the power, to-"
"Potter has not touched your son, Lucius," said Voldemort confidently, still walking at a steady pace. "I would know if he had. In case you forgot, I was inside his mind, not five minutes ago."
"But what else could have happened? Vincent and Gregory say he was on the Express at the start of the trip. Then, he said he was going to 'visit' Potter, as they say he always does. He never came back."
"Vincent and Gregory are dumber than even their fathers. And I don't suppose you forget what dear Vinny's father did? If not for him, I would not have had to rebuild my plan from scratch. If not for him, Potter would not be in love. I would trust a crab, before I trust the word of a Crabbe again."
Malfoy looked rather confused for a minute, before he got the joke.
"But what could have happened? And what can we do? You said yourself, Draco needs to be initiated. Now. Everything depends on it."
The Dark Lord shook his head. "Keep believing that, Lucius. It'll help your ego."
"What? You said that-"
The Dark Lord whirled on Malfoy. "I said nothing that would give the impression that Draco Malfoy was vital to my plan," he hissed. "I merely said that if he is to be initiated, it needs to be now. I did not say that he needed to be initiated. Pay attention, Lucius. It'll help your understanding."
Malfoy looked very deflated as they completed the long trek to the circle. What circle? The circle of Death Eaters, of course! They were gathered in the meeting room of Malfoy Manor. Malfoy and Voldemort walked into the room through the back entrance, to emerge on a wooden platform, raised a foot above the rest of the room. Malfoy followed the Dark Lord to the centre of the platform.
"What are you doing, Lucius?" asked Voldemort.
"I'm-"
"Get in line!" hissed the Dark Lord. Incompetence. He thinks he's more important than the rest. He thinks he's irreplaceable.
Malfoy scampered off the platform, into his rightful place of the circle that surrounded.
Voldemort spoke to the room at large. "Our ultimate goal is finally within reach," he began. "The time is near, for this war to be won. Soon, immortality will be mine.
"My final plan has been set in motion. Potter believes he knows more than he should. When, in fact, he knows precisely what I want him to. He will begin to doubt himself. Doubt his loyalty. Doubt his past. Doubt his heritage. He will begin to doubt everything that he knows."
The Death Eaters were as silent as a ghost's footsteps. They could not believe what they were hearing. The final plan? But the war had just begun... Had it really been that simple?
"Harry Potter will begin to doubt, even the dearest thing to his heart -- his love, the Weasley girl.
"As you all know, I was...dissatisfied with the prophecy. It did not live up to expectations. However, since then, an ingenious idea has formed in my mind. I have one hell of a plan, and if I know the one with the so-called power at all, there is no possibility of failure.
"In just three short months, it will all be over. In just three short months, I will win. Harry Potter will be dead."
The Dark Lord smirked an evil smirk All, in just three, short, months.
To See the Wizard "Danger, danger, Will Robinson!"
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