"What happened at the match, Harry?" Dumbledore looked at the sullen boy with concern. He had believed that they had overcome this obstacle of believing Dumbledore was using him as a weapon, and therefore someone to rebel against. Now it seemed this was not so. Harry had not said a word since the beginning of this particular Occulmency lesson, and refused to meet Dumbledore's eyes.
Harry mumbled something.
"I am sorry, Harry, but I didn't quite-" but he was cut off as Harry's head shot up, his emerald eyes flashing.
"I said," he growled in a tone quite unlike his own, "That Voldemort is in my head and is trapped there thanks to your stupid prevention spells, and at some point he's going to bloody bring me back to wherever he's hiding and try to control me like the megalomaniac he is."
Ah.
"I see. May I see if I can find this…part of Voldemort?"
Dumbledore assumed Harry's snort meant yes. He looked into Harry's bright eyes, his pupils dilated in anger, and allowed his mind to drift into his mind. He felt a slight resistance as he reached Harry's mental barrier, and noted in passing that is was considerably weaker in strength and magical power than he had ever seen it.
'Interesting.' thought the Headmaster, as he drifted further, probing here and there into certain, valuable, memories of Harry. There was nothing, all seemed to be untouched, not a trace of anything in any of the…
Wait a minute.
A tiny sliver of a thought, like silver filigree, floated past him. Mine.
Now with a purpose Dumbledore traced the thread back, back until he found its source. Curled up tight in the depths of Harry's earliest memories was a…thing. A thought, but a cognitive thought. This thought was alive, pulsing with power and magic, and most certainly not a part of Harry.
Dumbledore pushed at this thing, trying to see what it was.
Mine.
He pushed a little harder. He could feel this thing drawing not only power from Harry, faster than it was doing before, but from another source as well.
Mine.
If he could just access just a tiny part of this…parasite he would be able to find the other source, although he had a pretty shrewd idea already. Just that little bit further nearly there…
MINE!
Dumbledore felt himself be pushed out of Harry's mind with such a phenomenal force that it felt like he had been punched in the head.
Harry started up as the Headmaster rocked in his chair. He had felt something else in his mind, not just Dumbledore. It was there.
The old wizard composed himself before looking back at Harry, noting the boy's look of concern.
"Well Harry, there is definitely something in there. In fact, something which has so much magic that it was able to not only close itself to me, but to actually expel me from your head." He took a few ragged breaths. He really was getting far too old for this. "It appears to be feeding off your magic, and also that of another."
Harry looked at his hands and replied in a very small voice. "Voldemort."
If Dumbledore had been surprised at this, he did not show it.
"That is correct. However, I think Voldemort is feeding his power into it, rather than it feeding off him. Which is not as bad a it sounds, I assure you."
Harry gave him a look of disbelief. How could this be anything other than the worst situation he had ever been in? Including the night his parents died.
"I don't understand, Professor. I think having a part of the Dark Lord in my head is quite possibly as bad as it gets." Harry was trying to be polite, he really was, but his patience was wearing thin.
"I believe that this is what will fulfil the Prophecy. If we could find a way to bind his power to you Harry, it could-" for the second time during this evening Dumbledore was cut off.
"Could what?" Harry leapt up out of his seat. "Make me stronger? Make me a more powerful weapon? Is that it? AM I JUST YOUR WEAPON IN YOUR WAR?" He let out a strangled scream of rage at the motionless old man. He cast around for something to throw, but the desk was surprisingly less cluttered than it had been at the beginning of the summer. He kicked over his chair, to which Dumbledore moved not a muscle, before slamming out of the round office.
Dumbledore knew that Harry had yet to understand fully, and therefore could not control his anger. But this was getting tiring. He sighed and pulled some papers towards him and started to read a worn document, something which he had read many times, The Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black.
Hermione was badgering Ron about his Transfiguration essay on Animagi when Harry entered the Common Room. She looked up as he stormed past.
"Harry, are you alright?"
"I'm going to bed." Was his snarled response. Hermione motioned at Ron with her head to follow him. He looked perplexed.
"But I think he wants to be left alone, I mean-" but he was cut off by a look which greatly resembled one of his mothers. The If-You-Don't-Take-My-Hint-Seriously-There-Will-Be-Dire-Consequences look. "-oh."
Ron stood awkwardly in front of the curtains which were drawn quite formidably around Harry's bed. He was reaching out tentatively to draw one back when a tiny, fluffy ball shot out and rammed into his chest, almost knocking him over.
"Bloody hell!" he yelped as the ball picked itself up and whizzed over to the window. Ron's keeper reflexes served him extraordinarily well as he leapt in front of the thing and caught it tight in his hand. Ron nearly opened his hand again in shock when he realised what he had caught.
Pigwidgeon hooted loudly, and pecked viciously at Ron's hand, as he slowly walked to Harry's bed and drew back the curtains.
"What did he deliver?" the question almost choked Ron. Harry thrust out a surprisingly still hand holding a piece of black parchment. Ron took it gingerly and unfolded it with his free hand. The pale writing seemed to shimmer and writhe across the black background, looking for all the world like a long thin snake.
You will not let Dumbledore in that deep again. I will know.
You will come at Christmas.
It was signed with a tiny Dark Mark, the snake moving in and out of the grinning skull like a grotesque tongue. There was no mistaking who this was from, although why he was notifying Harry like this, and even why he found it necessary to have Pigwidgeon was completely beyond Ron. He looked anxiously at Harry, but his friend had a calm, almost accepting expression on his face. Reaching out, Harry slowly uncurled Ron's fingers from around Pig's fluffy body, and the bird flew off out the window, hooting loudly.
"What is wrong with you?" Ron said loudly, causing Harry to jump and his expression to change into one of confusion. "We could have tracked where You-Know-Who is by following that bloody bird. You absolute idiot!" Ron was sorely tempted to shake Harry as he looked about himself, looking as if he had just woken up.
"I…what?" Harry shut his eyes, and when they opened again Ron could see he was more focused. "He sent me that letter didn't he? I'm sorry Ron, I think it triggered…well. I don't know. But I wasn't in control just then."
Both of the boys' gazes were quite suddenly drawn to the letter that lay between them as emerald flames proceeded to engulf it, making the parchment curl and crumble to ash. Only the word Christmas was visible, until it too burnt away.
Ron started to tell Harry that he should perhaps tell Dumbledore, but Harry read his mind.
"I am not going to tell him anything. As far as he is concerned, I am a weapon. I'm going to deal with this by myself." and the glare on his face was so defiant, Ron dared not argue.
A/N: I am so sorry this has a) been such a long time coming, and b) been so short. Firstly I have had one hell of a busy week, up in Manchester for Choir of the Year semi-finals (which we won along with Farnham!) and lots and lots of work. Also I am not at all well:( but I did just want to get this chapter out, just to keep all you lovely reviewers happy.
Thanks guys.
Kelly, Bellatrix Riddle, Taurus, Silverspectre, Lady Apolla, Dr. Rubadinghy, Hoshi, Pegasus, Stardustgirl and odders: thank you all. You all make me feel very special and loved (which is really what I need at the moment.)
Circe: I'm a quidditch obsessee. What can I say?
Virginia Riddle Malfoy: I realise now it was a little unclear. Hopefully this explained it somewhat, but Voldemort will bring harry back to his wonderful house. Which I have yet to locate…
And of course, Fippets with the wonderful long reviews. I love you deary, you make me laugh! (and she sang a brilliant solo on Sunday…)
JM xx
