Lunarian: Lunarian: Waves, My writing has slowed down more on the count of having a job. Please review!
- Night Terrors -
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--- Chapter 11 ---
-- The Second Nail --
Once more Harry found himself awakening within a black expanse devoid of everything. Again, before he could take a coherent thought of stock to the situation, Voldemort entered in a suitably impressive manner full of theatrics. Quickly being the recipient of the counter to his ever growing obliviated memory, from the afore-mentioned being presumably because he was in no mood to go through the same antics once more, the afflicted child's memories returned with a vengeance bringing even more confusion to his already addled mind.
No longer even bothering to put up a token resistance Harry made a short mental checklist for how his nights had been recently. Okay... standing powerless before Tom Riddle, check. Said villain taking on a more mentor'ish posture then his usual kill-you-now attitude, check. Being unable to clearly remember what I was doing before I fell asleep, check. Yup, everything seems to be in order. "Now what?" He asked the Dark Lord in an aloof tone.
The Dark Lord Voldemort, glad to be skipping the preliminaries, wasted no further time in getting right into the thick of it as it were. "Come now Harry, why look so glum? I'm giving you a chance to see your so-called friends for what they truly are." Gesturing to a swirling white portal that appeared so suddenly it would be impossible to recall it never being there, he told the youth. "We've seen that poor excuse for a wizard you used to call best friend, now let's see about that mudblooded know-it-all bitch you think really cares about you."
The words being spoken to him from his mortal enemy? advisor? manipulator? he wasn't even sure anymore, but the words still pierced his very self deeply. Memories of his recently forgotten and now remembered declarations to cut ties with Ron after having such profound revelations about his character came unbidden reaffirming his resolve to put Hermione under such scrutiny as well, unknowingly falling into the direction the Dark Lord wanted him to.
With a simple step into the swirl they found themselves standing around the living room of a rather nondescript upscale home. The walls and ceiling were painted white and the furniture was all what the average muggle would call tasteful. Sitting on comfortable looking cushiony chairs were Hermione and who could only be understood as her parents. By the rather excited motions she was making with her hands Harry thought that they had stumbled upon them during a rather animated retelling of the previous year, and for a moment some of the old Harry began to show the first signs of life in what felt like years. Hermione's a true friend, I'm sure she is telling them about all the troubles we had and how she helped me. That thought died before it could fully blossom as he heard finally what she was saying.
In that bossy 'I'm right no matter what' voice of hers that he thought she had begun to grow out of he heard her say to her parents. "It was such a bother last year having to divert so much of my time I had reserved for studying and preparing for the OWL's, the Ordinary-Wizarding-Level's, to spend time making sure Harry Potter didn't utterly fail at these tasks he signed up for. I had to waste almost an entire day teaching him a simple summoning charm, without me he wouldn't have stood a chance. " Mumbling yet still loud enough for Harry in horrified fascination to hear every word she said to herself. "He expects us to believe that the teacher put his name in, a teacher would never do that no matter how paranoid he is. To think I had to stay by his side all year since Ron got to act out and distance himself leaving me to play the sympathetic friend so we don't lose track of his actions. We couldn't just stop keeping watch on him, he might have gone Dark and no one would know."
Frozen in shock Harry could do nothing more than listen to the rambling of one he thought was his most trusted friend as they tore his world apart piece by piece. What? How? S-s-s she they? Dark? His thoughts mixed together so violently that unknown to him Voldemort began to develop a headache from his constant surface Legilmency scans he had been performing.
To he-who-dislikes-his-name, things were going even better then expected. Who knew that the little bitch had such thoughts, whether conscious of them or not, going through her head. Afterall, the dream walking spell could only connect to people the recipient had a strong connection with and could no more show a completely false vision then aid in a possession. Twisting their impressions and thoughts into reflecting something much more damning was simple for a master of the mind arts such as himself.
The spell Voldemort was using to 'visit' Harry Potter and 'educate' him in the 'true' intentions of his allies was luckily enough on that first scroll of parchment that Laurance had translated from the ancient cache. It was truly to bad for the light side that he found them first, had those fools following Albus Dumbledore first got their unclean hands on those scrolls they could have repaired the damages done through extended Cruciatus curse exposure. The advanced dream walking spell itself having been designed to aid healers in curing their patients from mental afflictions, or so the notes on its creation had said.
While useful in its original intended nature to heal any of his troops who has the painful fortune of being cursed into mindlessness, it took the Dark Lord little time indeed to discover a much more ingenious use for the spell. Usually the spell could only be cast through physical contact and the trust of the patient in the healer, but never before had they encountered an Avada Kedavra cursed scar into the equation. Fully aware of the connection the scar created between himself and that blasted Potter boy he modified the spell to work through the manipulation of said scar. I should remember to reward Mr. Laurance appropriately later, the plan is proceeding very well.
During the inner dialogue of you-know-who Harry's own inner dialogue continued to battle for dominance on a single thought. Finally after several minutes his numbed mind settled on a single emotion that it was perfectly happy to accept expressing in full. Pure-Raw-Anger. Any depression or sadness could wait for a later appointment as anger bordering on hate filled the shaking teenager.
Not satisfied with containing his anger bottled up inside the boy-who-was-beyond-pissed let out a primal scream of fury before launching into the biggest hate filled rant he had ever had, unconcerned with who may hear it. "AAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHHHHH! HOW DARE THEY? After everything we have gone through together they repay me that by fucking spying on me? I'll kill them, I will smash their fat heads together and then I will watch as each traitorious thought of theirs leaks out the ears in a bloody crimson stream!"
"Ron that jealous little bastard sucking up to my fame and pretending to by my friend just to outdo his brothers. Little wonder how scabbers stuck together with Ron so easily for so long, Peter Pettigrew and him are two of a kind, back-stabbing spineless little shits that couldn't spark an ounce of intelligence from their puny minds even when lives are dependent on it. I hope they think it was worth it because when I get my hands on them they will suffer every pain they gave ten-fold!"
Crimson eyes gleaming in interest Voldemort turned his full attention back to the volatilely agitated youth. It seemed there was definitely some potential there, a certain blood thirsty desire for revenge and the anticipation of savoring that pain. Yes, Potter was really giving him something to work with here. Surprisingly the boy had yet to stop venting his hatred at his closest friends 'betrayal', oh this was sweet. Might be a good memory to send the old fool in a pensieve if things don't go to plan, if only he could be there to see the look on his idiot face seeing his golden-boy yell about wanting to torture with pleasure.
"As for that two-faced book-loving bossy stuck-up bint Hermione... she will pay. That she has the nerve to say I would never have passed the tasks without her help, and making it sound like I'm a squib! If I could right now I would lock her inside a library weaken with starving her then set fire to the place. Let her last sights be of her beloved books burning around her since that is obviously all she cares about! She must have never trusted me, I can't believe I never saw it before. Maybe she even had a hand in that whole troll incident. Just like last year when she went behind my back breaking my trust to report my firebolt to McGonagall."
The depths to which Potter spewed out such resentment and betrayal continued to impress the Dark Lord. Compared to what he got the boy to agree with last time, it was a knut to a galleon for how dark he was getting. Now all he needed was a few choice nudges to cement the loathing and there would be nothing to get back their golden boy.
"She always has to do things her way because she is so conceited and convinced she's always right. Tries her hardest to make everyone else around her feel inferior when she knows something that they don't, acts like it is obvious and instead of explaining it all simple like she makes a big deal out of it, lording her memorized books over us."
Seeing the boy begin to wind down from his ranting or maybe he just ran out of things to say to properly express his anger, either way he was slowing down, and Voldemort couldn't have that just yet. He needed that last push to solidify the malleable child's feelings and lean a step in his direction. Twisting Harry's last thoughts and adding some propaganda to it he threw more fuel to the teenagers ire. "That sounds just like a muggle, a real mudblood, a witch that doesn't want to embrace her heritage. Just like a muggle to try and change things they don't understand into something they do."
Long since past caring where new thoughts were coming from Harry leapt onto the metaphorical bandwagon provided by the words said by who should have been his most hated enemy. "Exactly! It's just like Granger and her stupid god-awful idea of S.P.E.W. She tries to free the house elves against their wishes, she didn't take time to get to know them or try to see their point of view, she just gets an idea and demands herself to be right. It's like-" Eyes widening in amazement to where his thoughts just took him, Harry took several long seconds before resuming his tirade now off on a more personal tangent. "Ohmygod! She's just like Aunt Petunia and the Dursleys... they don't try and understand the situation at all, they are only concerned with forcing their own morals on behaviors onto others."
It was so pleasing to listen to the boy add 2 and 2 together getting 5. That last thought was what he was waiting for, the second nail on the coffin of the boy-who-lived everyone thinks they know. One more trip should seal the deal and break the Potter boy one way or the other, and if not... well he had one last ace he could play. Taking out his wand he aimed it at the boy and cast the memory charm now, while these very dark thoughts were still prominent, the more likely they would be to bleed into his memory less self until he was ready to let him remember all when awake. "Obliviate."
From what he could gather from Harry's thoughts the muggles he lived with were hurting him each time he woke up screaming when he in canted Crucio. Not willing to risk letting his newfound plaything dying on him after all the work he had already done, Voldemort decided upon laying off the Cruciatus for now and simply caused the stripling to wake up with a mild pain curse the equivalent of an intense migraine.
Reviews
Shadow DarknessDragon: Yay thanks for the latest review. Btw the reason freak was used so liberally in that other chapter was it was Vernon's thoughts... not the brightest bulb there ya'know. Wish I had a surefire way to cure people's laziness when they read this, but alas I do not. So, thanx again.
BuriedFire: Aye, poor Harry Bwahahaha. :)