Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Beta Reader: Nagi

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

A/N: Thank you very much for your reviews!

Chapter 36 – Frightening Changes

Lunch found Harry bright and glassy eyed. He felt quite well for once. His headache was not overpowering anymore, and even though it took just as much of his strength to keep Tom contained, it was with a lighter mind that Harry could work on this problem. It was not easier done, but he could breath again as pain did not matter anymore. He still felt it in some way, but now it was easy to bear. He knew it was there and even increasing, but it was far away and did not bother him.

A new challenge from Tommy boy was just the thing he needed. A rather evil grin threatened to break out when the three of them just reached the entrance hall and Harry stopped, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"I need to pee, guys." He grinned like the imp he felt he was.

"But… lunch?" Ron frowned.

"You go and eat; I have to take care of something else before." He pointed to the lavatory. "If you don't see me by dinner time I'm stuck and I'd be glad if you'd get me out," Harry said to Ron, totally straight faced.

"Well, if you say so." Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" They did not seem too certain about what they should think of the sudden change in attitude.

"Yep. Everything's all right, guys. Madam Pomfrey made me swallow some really gross concoctions from our resident bat." Harry suppressed a too bright smile. "I think he's trying to poison me. Ow!" He rubbed his arm where Hermione's fist had hit him and growled. "What's that for?"

"Don't joke about something like that." Her gaze narrowed. "Should we bring you back to the infirmary?"

"Don't you dare!" Harry's eyes widened. "I said I'm alright, didn't I? So leave it."

"We're just worried, Harry."

"I know, but still … leave it." Harry's dark glare turned into a grin right away. He was in high spirits. Whatever potion that had been, its effects were delayedbut itmade him feel great. Perhaps he should ask Snape for the formula when he was clear-headed enough to keep from saying something totally stupid.

With a last dark look toward his friends Harry watched as they made their way to the great hall. It could not sit well with them that Harry got rid of them so easily. Perhaps they had agreed to give him more space to get his anger out, though the more often Harry pushed them away the more hurt they looked. Harry had no time for that. As soon as they were gone, he hurried off, his smirk growing darker with every step he took towards his destination.

He was aiming for the Room of Requirement. In there he could be certain that no one would interrupt him. In there he could surely be safe from everything but Hogwarts itself. He did not trust the stone box any more than he trusted Snape or Dumbledore. All of them were meddling with him; all of them played their own game, and with Hogwarts Harry could not even begin to fathom what it was playing at.

Harry had not even got to the right hallway when a low buzzing, eerily whispering sound reached his ears. Tilting his head, Harry stopped in the midst of the corridor and tried to will his goose bumps down. It was as if he was surrounded by a mass of invisible ghosts and all of them were talking at once. It was a strange feeling, disquieting. When he concentrated on a single voice it was as if trying to listen to someone speaking under water, and it pulled him further down a dark tunnel. Harry shook his head.

Harry knew he was not in his best state as of yet. Maybe he heard the beetles traipsing. The potion, whatever it had been, did obviously not work as it was supposed to. Harry doubted that the old mediwitch would make him … well, high, deliberately, but at the same time Harry knew deep down that he would not be able to stand without that feeling of … detachment that had come upon him along with emotional giddiness when he walked with his friends down to the great hall. With each step he felt strangely revitalized, the magic bubbled tantalizingly within him; and Tom gathered himself for a new attempt to break free from his confinement. It was all right. Harry felt as if he could stomp mountains into the ground.

Harry blinked and forced himself away from those almost inaudible whispers.

The few students passing him gave him wide berth; no one seemed to hear anything out of the ordinary. Maybe that was a side effect of the potion, to hear voices that were not there, like hallucinations of a sort. However, Harry feared the moment when the potion wore off. If Tom was still running against the barriers the way he was doing it now then Harry would be in deep shit.

He would rather hear imaginary voices than be dead and hear nothing at all. Harry bit his lip to keep from giggling like some loony meathead.

Hell, this year was going to be crazy. Not even the first week was over and already he stumbled from one mess right into the next. Should all this come from one potion, he would visit Madam Pomfrey to get some more – or maybe not. Harry shook himself awake. He was still not getting to the room any faster. Forcing his feet to move, Harry felt Tom preparing to attack. Slowly but certainly he was getting a feeling for Tom and his magic, and it was time again to get out of the way of any wandering students or – heaven forefend – teachers.

The dust-covered classroom Harry slipped into when there was no one in sight had, in his time at Hogwarts, never been used by someone other than the sporadic lovebird that needed a secret meeting place when the astronomy tower was already occupied by stargazers. Harry closed the door, put locking and silencing charm over the room – one never knew what could happen – and sat down cross-legged between the teacher's desk and the first row of students' tables.

Harry folded his hands, lest they touched the stone ground unintentionally, and closed his eyes. His breath was deep and steady. Tom was getting more forward by the minute, and now Harry was ready to play. It was still hard to accomplish and somewhere Harry knew that he would have to pay for this later – when the potion wore off and pain and exhaustion caught up with him, not a mere remembrance but perceptible in every cell. However, this would be worth it – he would make it so.

He was unaware that his lips twitched in anticipation before a smirk settled down the moment he paid Tom back for the trouble he had caused. Not once would he give mercy. Tom had shown him what he had to do to make him feel the most pain, the most desperation and fear. This was a lesson Harry would not forget and he would make sure that as long as even one breath of Tom remained in this world the bastard would bear in mind what Harry could do just as well as he (even when he needed a potion to cut down his fear and to take away the pain).

Like a firestorm over dry grassland Harry's magic burnt its way at once to the place where Tom was gathering his own power. Eyes closed, Harry sat on the ground, listening to the buzz of magic inside of his head. He knew exactly when the moment was right for payback, and his body shook with force when the power exploded within him. He held nothing back for defense. Everything he had was pushed in his own attack to bring the message home once and for all. He would not wait for Tom to break out. He would fight and make it as hard as he could.

Harry had all but a small advantage because he actually held the shields that prevented Tom his freedom. Harry just needed to keep back the power to uphold it when everything was over. The potion would not hold forever. Harry felt it already leaving his body; slowly but steadily the exhaustion and weariness would come back to him. If then Tom was not so readily stepped into the ground that he would stay there for at least some hours, Harry was finished.

Harry did not like pain or to cause other people pain, but when Tom started to scream in rage and fear, he could not help but laugh. If Harry could have seen himself he would step back in surprise as his whole body seemed to glow with an eerie, translucent violet light that flickered in an impalpable breeze.

Minutes or hours passed; it did not matter to Harry as he slumped finally back to the ground with a trembling sigh, drained to the core but satisfied, because for once he had given just as much as he had taken. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, his hands were balled in fists as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes staring blindly at the ceiling. Harry wondered how it could be that he was still alive. Then the pain set in and Harry knew that the potion was wearing off and the slight smile that made his face seem to glow unearthly slid off his face like drops of rain. His eyes pressed tightly closed, Harry curled himself up. He pulled his robe around him and waited, somehow detached from everything, for his strength to return and the potion to wear off entirely. He was far too weak to do anything else.

His cheek pressed against the cool stone, it was only moments before his exhaustion led him into a deep and dreamless sleep and Harry thought that he now knew that they were truly at a draw in this fight. Whatever he tried, no matter how much magic he used, Harry could not overcome Tom. He was just tremendously relieved that Tom found himself in the same position.

Tendrils of magic swirled around the room like living beings. They impacted with the wall and sent tremors – for human senses unnoticeable – through the whole building, calling the being of Hogwarts into an greater awareness from wherever it had watched the going ons within its halls.

The castle had observed the clusters fight for dominance with interest and – if one could call it that – anticipation. It was long since that anything similar to this had happened, and it would not want to miss the outcome. The last one had been the fiercest, but with Hogwarts having taken the vast amount of uncontrolled energy; both clusters were the same of strength. Neither of them would win over the other if that did not change. This would go on forever, and though Hogwarts had all the time to wait even the castle knew impatience. It was all it existed for to bring its builders task to an end.

Hogwarts was not made to care for those things of little importance those coming and going swirling balls of energy occupied themselves with. Also it was engraved in every single stone of its walls that it was not to intervene directly but to observe and only to step in to fulfill its task. However, nothing said that it could not give back what it had taken, and this one cluster was everything it had searched for, but even a cluster as unique as this one would crumble while the wind of times swept its promise of power away.

For now though Hogwarts did no more than to send some strength back into the weak case that threatened to be ripped apart while the castle watched with a cool analyzing mind. It gave no more power than a speck of dust to prevent the magical core from dying off, and then it waited with bated breath as to not disturb it in its recuperation. Hogwarts needed to decide if it would really give back what it had taken (if only for a moment) to avoid further, quite unnecessary fighting.

However, even Hogwarts could not change the flow of nature. Two clusters as powerful as that would circle around each other only for so much time before it grew into something else. Before that happened though, the castle was aware that at some point the cluster of tainted energy would likely get lucky and win a fight – until the other's instincts took over and it fought to take back its position.

Some time later Harry stirred unsteadily. He could not remember how long he had been lying collapsed on the cold stone floor, though it must have been quite long for his legs to grow numb. Harry grimaced when the blood rushed back as he turned onto his back. Frowning, Harry stayed still until he thought his legs would bear his weight. The potion had left him drained but curiously he was not as weary from his use of magic as he had anticipated.

While he pushed himself thoughtfully up from the ground Harry noticed something else that threw him slightly off. He halted to watch and pressed his hand back onto the ground with new awareness before he grinned tiredly. He could feel nothing through the stone. If he did not know better he would believe that he had just imagined that there was more to it. Harry shook his head and brushed off the dust from his clothes with a glance around. His footsteps and traces of someone lying on the ground were still there. Sighing, Harry spoke a cleaning charm that took care of every bit of dirt in this room. Now it was a bit too clean to be a deserted room, but at least the silhouette of his body was gone.

Gazing around a last time to see if he had forgotten anything, Harry moved to open the door before he remembered and shook the head above his own forgetfulness. He really lost sight of reality when playing around with his powers – and potions. Maybe he should not do that anymore. He would stay far away from everything the mediwitch wanted him to drink, though Harry needed to research his magic. It was draining not to know on what to rely. He had no basis to work from.

Taking the protective spells off, Harry made his way back to the common room without giving a glance left or right, totally involved with himself, still keeping hold of Tom, and realizing that for the instant he could feel nothing of him. Harry could not even feel him watching or waiting. It was like he was gone, though Harry knew that he was there – and something else, too. The whisper like humming was back.

He tried to follow those sensations that reverberated through his skull, but it was like trying to catch smoke. The only thing Harry knew was that it could not have been a potion-induced hallucination after all. When he stepped into the dormitory and felt his legs all but give out when he reached his bed Harry lost track of it, and a moment later it was totally gone as if it had never been there. Harry sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Whatever the hell was happening with him, it scared the hell out of him.

It was only a moment later when his eyes blinked open as something poked him in the ribs. Harry struggled up on his elbows, gazing at his friends with a thoughtful frown. He had not heard them coming in. Then he grinned.

"I'm still in the dorm, am I?"

"Sure, why?" Hermione and Ron threw each other a glance.

"It's a boy's dorm." Harry sat up and scratched his head. "Isn't it against the rules for girls to enter?" Her cheeks tinged pink, but Hermione pressed her hands to her hips, just watching him. She must have seen Mrs. Weasley doing that whenever she was talking to the twins.

"Don't try to change the topic. That won't work, Harry."

"What topic?" Harry frowned with a curious smile. "We're not talking about anything but … well, your presence in a place where it's forbidden." Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Ron's nose wrinkling as he tried to suppress a grin. Hermione though did not much care for his small talk. A pity, that. It seemed as if he would have to think of something to make them step back a bit – and it was only the first week.

"Harry, stop it. What's going on? The whole day you have been … not here. What is it? Professor Dumbledore? V-Voldemort? Does it have something to do with your disappearance? What? Don't run away again, Harry."

"I think Pomfrey may have overdosed me," Harry said after a moment's consideration, "but don't tell her; I'm sure she'd never live that down."

"You were running around like some crazy chicken even before that." Ron grinned, but this time his eyes held more reserve.

"I like chicken." The boys shared a smile. They understood each other or better Ron's preference for food, and even Hermione's frown did not change that.

"But…" She sat down next to Ron.

"I'm not riding on clouds anymore, Hermione. I'm not addicted either … not yet anyway." He tilted his head and grinned. "Though it wouldn't be too bad go riding some more, I think." He held up his hands when Hermione's gaze darkened. "Just kidding, honestly."

"You made us worried sick, Harry." She was still demanding answers.

"I know. I didn't want to do that." Harry sighed. "I'm sorry that I'm so short tempered." He shrugged and tried to be more sincere. "I have just a lot to think about."

"What about?" Hermione would not give up. "We are your best friends. If you can't talk to us, who can you talk to?"

Harry nodded. That was exactly his problem. He could talk to no one. He did not dare. Who would not freak out if he told them that Tom Riddle listened in to every conversation he had? Harry could not prove it, but it was very likely that Tom had learnt more about the so called light side he was fighting since he had been caught in Harry's head than in all his life before.

"If I think about what happened and what I will miss without ever knowing I could cry through night and day," Harry whispered, afraid to say it out loud, "but life goes on, especially that of Harry Potter, I don't have the luxury to … grieve." He bit his lip. "So I simply don't think about what my life is lacking and I don't miss it anymore – at least until the moment I remember." He gazed up at her with a sad smile. "That's why I …ran, as you put it."

Hermione watched him as if she wanted to hug him. He was truly glad that she sat next to Ron, who probably would not mind a hug from whatever girl and had a tight grip around her wrist. Harry's lips twitched, but it could be because he was sad, so he swallowed and looked into his lap.

He thought that if Hermione would be a hundred years older she would have worked tremendously well with Dumbledore. She wanted to know, so she pressed forward, never mind that some people did not like pressure. Or she was just a really good friend? Maybe, and Harry read too much into everything, questioned every motive. If now was the time to be honest he should give them something more to think about, to make all of them believe that he was not so different than last year, only a bit older perhaps.

"There's something else I haven't told you." Harry fidgeted uncomfortably and his shoulders dropped. "You know the prophecy?"

"Yeah." Ron shuddered. "I hate brains." Harry smiled silently and ignored the impatient girl on the redhead's side to delay it a bit longer.

"Harry?" Hermione's brows furrowed. She clearly suspected already what was coming. She was much too clever for her own good.

"Well, it wasn't lost as everyone thought." And he told them of last year's conversation with the old man, about his anger and helplessness, and that he would be the one who had to kill the Dark Lord at long last. The only thing Harry did not mention about the prophecy was the fact about Neville. No one had to know that Neville could have been in his shoes. That was past and should the prophecy ever come to light his dorm mate would not do well with such knowledge. It was already decided, so Harry took the moment to enjoy his friends' expressions.

Ron's mouth hung open, and Hermione stared ahead somewhat dazed, though she seemed get a grip really fast and was already analyzing the situation with the new information with which Harry had provided her.

"Well," was her conclusion after a minute of heavy silence, "ultimately we knew that already, didn't we? Ron, you'll catch flies." Her gaze was determined, her mind already poring over books that could be of help. She was never leaving Harry out of her intense scrutiny.

"You didn't talk about that to anyone else, did you, Harry?"

His lips pressed together, Harry shook his head.

"It's no wonder that you're so jumpy. You carried that around all summer, and then the …kidnapping and your … your godfather."

"Yes." Harry's gaze was deep. "I'm just … remembering, you know. I see something that reminds me of Sirius and … the prophecy and I just stop functioning. Does that make any sense to you?" Harry smiled his true brave Gryffindor smile and was relieved to see Hermione's suspicion deflate, though Ron seemed more and more uncomfortable. Boys were not normally known to be all emotional when another boy was around. Harry grimaced. What would he not do to keep Hermione a while longer off his track? Hell, he needed her mind, but he did not want her involved, neither of them.

"That makes every sense, Harry. I'm so sorry. I'll – we will help whichever way we can." She glared at Ron. "Won't we?"

"Yeah!" Ron's freckles stood clearly out of his unusually pale face. "Of course, mate." The facts were obviously not so easy for a tempered redhead to grasp.

"Thank you, guys." Harry put his chin into his hands, his gaze firmly directed to the ground. He refrained to show more emotion than necessary. Nothing could hold Hermione next to Ron when someone was crying or something like that. Harry really did not need another scene like at the station.

In the end, the decision to reveal the prophecy to his friends brought him their understanding and – in Hermione's case – her will to help him out with any research he might want to do. Sadly, she thought he would want to read about prophecies – as if this one was not enough. Harry was not really interested in that topic. Her interest in magic and Wizarding maturity was much more rewarding for him, at least Harry hoped so, but he would not want her suspicious again. Another halfway plausible explanation would be hard to fudge. Harry heaved a sigh.

It was a long time until his friends let him go that evening. They spent their leisure time together until dinner, reading, playing and talking about nonsense; and even after they came back to the common room afterwards Hermione would not let him go on his own and Ron watched him from the side whenever he thought that Harry was not looking.

It was driving Harry crazy, but he had to give his friends some time to get used to the prophecy or whatever. Hermione held him in arm's reach as if she believed he would break down over her at any moment. That was truly the last thing Harry would ever do. Hermione could be worse than Mrs. Weasley when she set her mind into it. Harry pitied the poor guy who would marry her. It was only after curfew when Harry got away with a yawn after his eyes had seemingly fallen close an hour after he sat back in the armchair that had become his over the years.

It was under the shower, his face turned into the hot and energizing spray of water, when Harry felt the first signs that Tom was back in business after a few much needed hours of absence. Thumping his head against the stall, Harry cursed the day he had come to know that stupid snake-face.

Deep in the night, everyone else was long since asleep; Harry could not bear the quiet darkness anymore. He did not dare to fall asleep now. He might have had he not felt Tom's presence as if the bastard was waking from a deep unconsciousness, cautious but angry and already probing the shields for weaknesses. Tightly wrapped in his invisibility cloak, Harry wandered through the empty hallways, gazed at snoring portraits and watched the starry night outside the windows wistfully, before he turned in the early morning to get back into his bed before his friends would wake.

Harry was very tired and not all that cheerful with too much time to think. The last day had been a frightening experience. He did not know if he could live through another day like that, and honestly, Harry did not want to find out.

The stroll had taken up all night and as long as his feet moved Harry would not sleep. His cloak saved him from that stupid cat of Filch's, but otherwise he had neither seen nor heard anyone else until now.

There was no niche or archway in sight to get out of the way, so, deciding fast, Harry stepped simply out of the middle of the corridor, pressed his back to the wall and held his breath. Like a shadow of air he waited for the person to pass and give his way to the tower free.

Black robes billowing, Snape passed Harry mere inches away. It was only minutes until the dark man disappeared from Harry's view, but he really did not need this. With a soundless sigh he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Either the sallow man was an early riser or he went to sleep now lest he got burnt from the daylight. Harry grinned. Trust Snape to be nocturnal, but all these stories circling of him being bat or vampire or both at once must have their foundation somewhere.

Snape had certainly ways to hide himself from the world and being thought a vampire must help with that, but he had seemed weary without a student or teacher to insult. Maybe he truly was ill as Hermione had thought. With a shake of his head Harry stepped away from the wall to continue his way up the stairs. He would find out or he would not, but now was not the time for that. No one else was crossing his path. All was quiet and even the Fat Lady spared him only a murmur of protest when the thin air in front of her mentioned the password.

Harry sat in front of the dying fire until the morning arrived. He thought about a way to trick Tom, or to find another way to get rid of him, but there seemed nothing but the ritual that Voldemort himself had tried to accomplish that would be of help to him. Tomorrow – or later this day – Harry decided he would start his research if he felt up to it or not.

When the first rays of sun leaked through the high arched windows he got up, wobbly, to take a cold shower and change his clothes. A look into the mirror made Harry grimace. He was relieved, though, that even mirrors seemed to sleep late, because for once it refrained from saying anything, and he looked even groggier than yesterday. Harry would rather like to have that potion back.

After he rubbed his face quite thoroughly to get some blood into his pale cheeks, Harry practiced his smile that was sadly interrupted by repeated yawns he could not seem to overcome. Only after he had that done decently, Harry went into the dormitory to wake Ron. Tom was suspiciously calm, but Harry knew that it was only the calm before the storm, and that made him more than a bit anxious as he shook his friend awake with a carefree smile plastered on his face.