Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret
Author: Japhu
Pairing: HPSS
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.
Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)
Category: action/adventure/angst
Feedback: highly appreciated
Chapter 7 - Using Emotions
Pain. Hot, excruciating pain.
A low moan struggled out of Harry's throat, as he clenched his fists firmly to hold in a scream with all his might. He could not see, could ot feel anything but a fire burning within him. It forced its way through every part of his being, ripped him violently apart and left his head blazing like a glowing ball of fire. Black and white dots whirled in front of his tightly closed eyes and took his consciousness for the world with them.
A white light exploded in his mind and his magic grew wild. Grasping desperately at the tiny part that made him Harry, he did not give himself a moment to breath. Instinctively, he built a defense line to secure his core of mind and magic alike. For just a moment Harry could feel its control slipping. He could feel the triumph of Tom over his own tormented soul while Harry desperately fought off the dizziness and the numbness that left him stumbling.
It was not just an attack from the inside where he was most vulnerable. It was as if he was back in Voldemort's torture hall. He felt himself helplessly held to the ground and tumbled under the steadily growing pressure inside of him when Voldemort finally found a way for his magic and reached around the barriers Harry had built. His feeling for time and reality slipped absolutely. Only dimly Harry was aware that he was sagging down with a pitiful whimper, but surprisingly he did not hit the ground as something or someone stopped his fall in the last possible moment.
Tremors of magic run through his body when Harry actively began trying to fight back. He did not bother to acknowledge his help as he was carefully laid down, and once again a hand pressed onto his mouth to muffle the pained screams he was not able to suppress anymore when his muscles cramped.
Tom could not be allowed to get free, whatever the cost. If Harry died, Voldemort would roam the world again and the Wizarding world would be at the same place they had been fifteen years ago. Harry would not simply give in and lie down to make the way free to whatever Tom had planned on doing – once he had Harry trapped in his own body. That would not do.
Completely unaware of his surroundings, Harry gathered methodically what had not been overrun by Tom's attack. He forced all of his emotions back and felt himself growing cold when he frantically wished to barrier Tom's way with any means possible. Tom rummaged through his mind without care and violated memories that had been safe and good ones until now.
Lying low Harry forced his anger down and waited for Tom. The boy knew where he was, but he could not reach him there without calling his own death upon him. This time Tom had not run down his walls at random. He had searched for a point Harry would be helpless to defend.
Ever so slowly and oh so painfully that Harry believed to explode, as he bit his lips to not scream his voice raw, Harry fought a way through his mind. Silently he let Tom ravage while Harry bound his magical core to fix points throughout his whole body. There the energy could gather until he needed to draw on it in an emergency. It seemed an eternity later when a steady buzz of his magic vibrated through Harry. It pointed an inviting but not too obvious way to his inner core, and it was too much a treasure for Tom to let go off the chance that it was the real path to victory.
Harry clenched his jaw and hid his awareness for Tom's mad browsing. Tom did not seem to have a plan for when he actually got a hold of Harry. He just took what he could get now while Harry's shields were seriously weakened. Harry ignored it as he had to. For Tom to go where he wanted him, Harry had to lure him into false security. A problem Tom had had even when he still had been Voldemort in Harry's eyes. To fast after a small victory Tom felt himself invincible. He was too sure of himself to look out for traps.
Harry focused all of his thoughts to gather as much of his magic as he could. The safe places he had built, helped him in this respect. With them Harry would not have to consciously hold most of the power and he would not be in danger to let the trap snap shut in the wrong moment.
Harry felt him gloating and coming near his hiding place. Any minute now. Slowly, but soon enough Tom would be there. Harry could bear the pain a while longer. His body convulsed entirely when Tom reached the point where all of Harry's magical strength found its opening. The whole net of power points Harry had built to help access the continuous flow of magic erupted at once. It broke all of Tom's negligent attempts of ravaging and bonding to a core which was not his own.
A strange violet glow broke its way through his closed eyelids and earned a sharp intake of breath from a fiercely staring man. Harry was completely unaware to this second, as he was busy holding Tom. As fast as anyone could manage, Harry built the walls again with more consistency. He was slow but meticulous to get it done. His mind should be a lot safer when the process was closed.
Harry drew a trembling breath. He had done all right for now. Tom was secured behind more layers of magic, than Harry had ever thought possible he could manage to errect at least halfway consciously. An incessant flow of magic would let him know instantly what Tom was up to, that meant from now on Harry would be aware of Tom's presence all the time, would probably catch some of his stray, crazy thoughts when the time passed by, and his backup magic would secure that anything similar to this attack occurred ever again.
For the future Harry needed to research a feasible way to stay safe without constantly drawing at his powers. It was draining. On the long run Harry would not be able to hold it this way. If just that little bit of anger had opened that wide a way for Tom, Harry would be hard pressed to keep him tied up for more than a few months at the most. Anger and probably any other negative emotion, would make it impossible for him to stay ahead of Tom. Left panting and covered in sweat, Harry drew a few more concentrated breaths. That had been an experience a bit too near to failure for his peace of mind.
How could it be that a wizard's magical core was bound to a person's soul and not to the body? The energy core had to be a part of a man's soul; it was not logically possible. What would happen if somone tried to tear apart a human's soul? Harry shuddered just thinking of it and found himself pressed tightly against something warm and secure. Harry blinked his watering eyes open. Now he remembered where and with whom he had been. Uneasily, Harry looked into the pale face of his least favorite potions teacher directly above of him.
The boy swallowed heavily and practically sprang away from the man, though he tried not to show disgust or anything else. Snape did not seem to look like himself much anymore either. Paler than Harry had ever seen him, his face gaunt and his forehead covered in sweat, Snape crouched next to him, his face carefully blank of emotion and his thin lips pressed tightly together.
Harry blinked surprised when he realized something astonishing he had not thought of before. Now that his own pain had diminished to a tolerable throb, Harry could feel the stinging in his right hip, spreading out through his whole body. It could not have been more than a few moments for Harry lying on the ground, but for Snape to be in that proximity to him, Tom and his mark meant that it must have been painful to him, too. He had surely felt something through the link whilst the fight for control had gone on. For rights way every marked Death Eater should have lain down screaming for the last minutes. That Snape had not done just that must have been pure stubbornness to give in to something as trivial as that. The Dark Mark on Snape's forearm must have hurt like hell. Harry wondered if Snape and the Death Eaters had just gotten a backlash or something much more horrible. Maybe Harry was lucky and some had died from the pain or at least gone mad.
Still in arms' reach of Snape, for the man had not let him go, Harry could feel his pain. If it had been anyone else he would probably have offered to heal some of it to take the edge away. With someone bound to him Harry could have done it through his mark even. But Snape would not allow that any more than Harry wanted the man to find out about his mark. Harry was not able to control the mark just yet anyhow, so both of them would have to bear their stinging nerves for a little while longer. However, Harry felt that his body already began the process of healing. As outworn as his magic's reserves were, there was still enough left to begin the dire process.
Realizing that his hands were still tightly clenched, Harry opened his fists and looked dazedly at the bloody, half moon shaped marks on the palms of his hands the fight for control had left him.
Surprisingly Snape refrained to give one of his dire comments. Harry was thankful for that but still a bit skeptical about hidden motives, nevertheless. Just the creepily piercing look Snape sent his way was enough to make Harry's hair stand on end. Harry refrained himself from rubbing the goosebumps on his arms away.
"What the hell was that, Potter?" came Snape's gruff question. Harry looked down to the muddy ground, which had left its traces on his clothes. He smirked tiredly. Information was the motive. Slimy Slytherin!
"How should I know, Professor?" he said with false innocence, though no doubt it didn't fool anyone and least of all the Potions Master.
"Potter! Stop being childish and answer the question." Snape sounded hoarse. He still found it peculiar to experience the burning in his Dark Mark only a few moments before he literally stumbled over the boy, who had gone down in a heap, gasped for breath and eyes shut tightly against whatever pain he had felt. Sneering, the Potions Master pulled the boy up and threw a quick glance around.
What a crude man. Harry resolutely bit his lip, for such a question did not deserve an answer, well, at least not a completely true one.
"What is it, Potter? Is the fame rising too high in your head?"
"Oh, nothing, professor." Harry stoically played down and kept fatigue to himself. "Voldemort," Harry took notice of the slight narrowing of the exquisite eyebrows, "is just feeling especially vicious right now. I have that once in a while, sir." Harry's calmly mentioned remark, which came around in the same tone an adult explained to a child the same thing a dozen times patiently, was accompanied with a challenging look as Harry said: "But of course you know that already, sir." His voice came out a bit pressed, but at least his teacher would see his effort at staying on his feet, at least in saying, as he was still on the ground. Harry was not the one acting childish. Git.
"I'm okay now," he bit out eventually when he saw no other way. "Let go off me!" as if irresolutely how to proceed.
"So, he is alive then?" Snape asked nonchalantly and ignored Harry's request completely. Harry stopped and stared at the man questioningly.
"Voldemort? Why wouldn't he be?" The boy looked innocently up to the gaunt face, surprise was plain in his voice, as he tried to shake off the hand that still gripped his arm.
"Shut your mouth, Potter." Snape's irritation was palpable. For a moment they stared at each other, neither wanted to be the first one to look away.
"Your friends," Snape spit the words, "are still patrolling through the alleys near the archway, which is our only way to get out of this maze of streets." To that Harry furrowed his brows. Snape was explaining instead of simply ordering! Did the surprises never stop?
"The wizards?" Harry blinked and lost their staring contest. "Where are they?"
"Would you have them rather waiting for you?" the man snapped. Harry glared at the ground. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath, to low for the Potions Master to understand anything worthwhile.
"Professor?" Harry whispered anxiously after a moment and crouched deeper behind the edge. He did not feel nearly as unsure of himself, as he made the bastard believe, but it would play well with his future role as a youth who got, with dark wizards on his tail and the death of the only family he ever had, too much on his head. Harry felt a twinge in his heart, but he shoved it away. Sirius was a matter to remember when he was safely hidden behind the curtains of his four posters in the dormitory.
"What are they?" Uneasily Harry noticed how much awe ringed within his voice. He swallowed silently and threw Snape a fleeting glance. Hopefully the man had not heard his childlike quivering.
"Be quiet, Potter. You don't want to lead them here, do you?" It was obvious how much will the man had to afford to keep back from telling the boy exactly what he thought; but no insult was forthcoming, a task that was in itself a tremendous accomplishment. Most likely though, Snape was just preoccupied with watching and thought Harry the lesser evil. Harry eyed him cautiously.
"I think they're definitely gone, sir." Harry dared to say. As far as he was concerned they could leave their hiding place now. Harry would like to get some books and new robes; and he wanted to get away from Snape.
"You know how to shut your mouth, don't you?" Snape seriously seemed to doubt the boy's abilities in that respect. "Or should I do it for you?" With raised brows the Potions Master watched until Harry nodded and clamped his mouth shut.
"Come, Potter," Snape said. He showed not even a suggestion of fatigue, whereas Harry still did not feel too good and was not able to fight when he was harshly pulled up to his feet. Harry did not even argue Snape's hand on his arm, at least for now, as weak in his knees as he was. For once he followed him without raising objections.
Snape led them through ways Harry would not even have recognized as such. However, later Harry could not recall how long they had been under way, or how often he had stumbled over his feet. When they finally stepped out into the brightly lit and crowded street of Diagon Alley, Harry almost felt like his old self save a ravaging headache and as a consequence thereof a very short temper. He stopped short when he realized that Snape did not seem to leave alone anytime soon.
"Thanks for helping me out there, sir," Harry chose the polite way, "but you know, sir, you can go now," he stated calmly.
"Do you think me stupid or just gullible?" Snape growled when the insolent child just looked him up and down thoughtfully with an uncharacteristically raised eyebrow.
Harry shrugged, but did not elaborate to which part of the question his answer should be taken. Merlin! How he hated that man. How could a person be as antisocial as that and still stay human inside? Snape was a downright unpleasant character to spend his free time with. Hell, even if paid Harry would not do it but tied up and gagged. Harry made a fast decision. Practically he still was in his holiday and as though Snape was an elder, he was not Harry's guardian. He would have to go to the Dursleys or respectively to Dumbledore.
"A good day to you, sir," Harry said self-confidently and left without further ado. Carefully, should that man try to be ahead of him, Harry stepped just far enough to stay out of the Potions Master's reach.
"I wanted to get my books, before I was ... interrupted."
"Potter!" Snape growled menacingly, not bothering to keep his voice quiet. "Stay were you are, or I'll make sure that you won't leave the dungeons for weeks when you're scrubbing cauldrons until your fingers bleed!"
With that picture in mind Harry could not help himself but pull a face. His luck as it was and he would not see the daylight for the rest of the year and his hands would only be stumps when the git was finished with him. Harry could risk it, but Snape was not one to forget. His tendency to hold grudges against people whose parents or grandparents had wronged his pride lifetimes ago was widely known. The boy sighed and turned back to the towering man.
"What can I do for you, Professor?" Harry did not try to hide this exhaustion this time around, much good it would do. Snape did not care either way.
"You're not going to buy your books now, Potter," Snape bit out unpleasantly. "If you had bothered to read your letters, you would know that your head of house is seeing to that."
"Is it acceptable then, to go to... that I get something to eat, sir?" Complying with his teacher's wishes, Harry stayed calm. His OWL results were still packed firmly in his trunk, unopened together with some letters of his friends. Harry sighed when Snape just looked at him coldly. What an arrogant man.
"Where do we go, sir?" he asked after an uncomfortable silence.
"What do you believe?" the Potions Master snapped indignantly. "To Hogwarts, of course."
Harry stopped dead. "But don't I have to take the train?"
Snape grimaced. The boy honestly thought that he would get more liberties than he already had. Wretched child!
"What do you think, Potter." Snape held himself back. When he had to take the train to guard the brats, he wanted to do so in silence, not with Potter clinging at his robe.