Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Harry's stomach flipped around while he waited for Vernon to come home from work. It always happened the same way. Petunia would pick him up from King's Cross, he would have his belongings ripped from him and locked away while he spent his time locked up in the bedroom the Dursley's had permitted him to remain in during the summer. The locks had long been fastened, and the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. The only reason Vernon was ever this late was if he was on a business trip or if he had a particularly trying day and Petunia had mentioned he was due back at his normal time.
The smell of Chinese take-out seeped in from under his door as Dudley walked by. It would seem this would be a very bad night indeed if Petunia had finally given in and had food delivered.
Harry managed to doze off in the corner on the floor. There were no chairs in the room. The only furniture that occupied the space was an old dog bed they had thrown in a corner as a makeshift bed after Dudley had demanded a puppy (and gotten bored of it several days later) and a bucket meant for his bathroom needs. He hadn't gotten any food, and only managed to sneak in some nutrients potions in his shoes. They would give him enough nutrients to keep him alive until the end of the summer, but barely. He would be entirely too thin, and practically a walking zombie by then.
The slight screech of Vernon's tires as he turned into their drive woke Harry with a start. It was almost dark now, casting his room in a purplish blue hue. His heart started to pound faster, fear kicking in. He had been scared in the graveyard after the TriWizard Tournament, but it was nothing compared to the fear he felt now. In the graveyard he could fight. He had his wand. He wasn't defenseless.
Here he stood a lesser chance of an ant getting trampled on at a picnic.
He curled into himself, trying to make himself seem as small and insignificant as possible, the fabric of his shirt pooling around his feet. It was at least five or six sizes too big for him and was riddled with holes. He hugged his legs to his chest, listening to the door open downstairs. Petunia didn't even greet him, a very bad sign indeed. She always greeted him when he came home.
Each thud of his uncle's feet landing on the stairs made the blood pound in his ears harder. His heart raced, his mind going a million miles a minute wondering what sort of fresh hell Vernon had planned for him this summer.
The locks were undone painfully slow, each click as they released echoing in the empty space. Suddenly the door burst open, making him jump. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut and waited for the blows that were sure to come. He had expected to hear footsteps coming towards him, but instead heard the slow creek of the door closing once more. He opened his eyes just enough to glance at what was happening.
Vernon had closed them inside together.
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no… He couldn't make his brain think of anything more than that. Worry gripped him where the fear hadn't settled yet as his uncle stared at him.
"Get up, boy. Now." His voice was low, with a dangerous edge to it. Harry stood quickly, trying to make himself look as small as possible even though he was on his feet. "Do you have ANY IDEA how STUPID you are? Almost getting killed at school? YOU SHOULD HAVE JUST DONE THE REST OF US A FAVOR AND DIED!" Vernon backhanded him across the face, making stars dance in front of his vision and causing his glasses to skid across the floor to hide somewhere on the other side of the room.
He had no time to recover, as fists grabbed his shirt and yanked him close. "If you can't die, then I'll have to just make you wish you were dead." His voice was dangerously quiet. A moment later, Harry was tossed to the floor. He didn't even bother trying to get up but he wouldn't have made much progress as Vernon was on top of him now, pinning him to the floor. He tried not to move or make any noise as that would just make his situation worse.
That terrifying voice was at his ear.
"You're going to do as I tell you, and not one thought of any funny business." He was jerked up to his knees as Vernon towered over him, his hand still yanking on his hair. He couldn't see Vernon's pants come undone, but he could hear it. He hadn't quite registered what was happening yet, terror engulfing his entire being. He heard a command from somewhere far away and opened his mouth to obey. It wasn't until he was gagging on his uncle's cock that he realized what was going on.
Tears streamed down his face as he attempted to breathe through the pain ripping through his scalp.
Just when he thought his jaw would break, he was tossed back to the floor. He didn't move, too afraid of the consequences. Apparently this was the wrong thing to do as he was spun around like a rag doll, his pants disappearing somewhere along the way. There was no hesitation, no brief pause for adjustment, no preparation before he was impaled with Vernon's nether regions. He vaguely could hear himself screaming for help, screaming for mercy. For it to be over.
When Vernon was done and had locked him back in solitude, he dragged himself to his 'bed' and stared at the wall until the sun came up.
Emotions had abandoned him altogether. It would seem that his uncle did manage to find a way to break him. Before he had always pulled through the beatings, knowing that on the other side there would be thousands of people relying on him to make it out of the other end alive for them. Now? He couldn't bring himself to care. Why should he? He had reported their abuse before. Every single year he begged not to be sent back. To be able to go anywhere else but here. And every summer he was shipped back to these monsters.
He was done. He wasn't going to help Dumbledore save the Wizarding World. Not if the price was...well it was too high of a price. His life wasn't worth living...not really. He was alive solely to either kill or be killed and in the end he didn't have one iota of knowledge or strength that Voldemort possessed. He was going to be walking to his death if he continued to fight.
Several days passed, him moving only to flinch when Petunia came to kick him after her dinner party hadn't been one hundred percent perfect and to use his bucket. He had managed to take one of the bottles of the blue potion that was meant to be keeping him alive. He didn't want to take the rest.
He wanted to die. Surely, then, he could feel something. He wanted to feel anything that could cut through the empty void his soul had become.
During the last 'visit' from his uncle, he had been scratched to ribbons. Blood had flowed from his arms at a steady pace. The pain of the scratches distracted him from the pain in his lower half. He zeroed in on his arms, only wanting to feel them sting. It was so much better than the burning, his flesh ripping from the inside out. At least the sting was constant. The sting had managed to cut through the emotionlessness. It made him feel again.
Voldemort was in his own mind on a lovely summer night. It wasn't too hot just yet, as the spring had just ended, and he was just enjoying it and examining his own mind. Occlumency did, after all, require a very organized mind. It was then, in the golden glow of the sunset, that he found an unfamiliar place in his mind. It was very small, practically minute, but still unfamiliar to him. It didn't seem out of place, just...new. Wondering if this could be from him regaining a body, he studied it.
It wasn't long before he noticed paid was echoing around in his mind. It was a hollow feeling, like it wasn't really there. Strange, he hadn't been injured lately. Upon closer inspection, he realized the feeling was coming from the strange new addition to his mind. But why would such a small area be in such pain when the rest of him felt fine? It certainly wasn't the area that held his past, that was elsewhere in his mind and much larger. It also had never created a scream quite that bloodcurdling, even if it was faint.
"My Lord, your presence is needed for the meeting."
"Yes, yes of course Lucious. I'm on my way." He'd have to study this part of his mind further at a later date.
Harry had no idea how much time had passed. Vernon hadn't come home since the second time he had been ripped open, he was out on a business trip somewhere in Canada. Petunia had avoided him, preferring to not waste her time undoing all the locks to take out a moment of frustration on him. Dudley was spending all of his time out with his gang of idiots. He didn't have keys to the locks, something Harry was grateful for.
He wondered if he could make himself feel...anything really. He thought of all the lives that would be lost due to him not fighting to provoke guilt. Students at Hogwarts being slaughtered by Death Eaters. Dementors, disappointing his friends, happiness, sadness, guilt, pain, terror-wait. He remembered feeling pain through the emotionless void when Vernon had scratched his arms last time he was here. Maybe that would cut through the smog that has clouded his mind.
He picked up the vial from the potion he had taken only a few days ago and broke it against the floor. He held it against his arm, anticipation slowly creeping in. Anticipation, that was something. It was new and he clung to it as he dragged the glass over his skin.
It wasn't deep, after all he had just wanted to see if this would prompt his feelings to return. Blood beaded up at the wound, the stinging sensation flooding his senses. He smiled, finally being able to feel something cut through his emotionless stupor.
At least he wouldn't be bored this summer.
Voldemort had spent a lot of his spare time analyzing the new place in his mind. It wasn't completely foreign to him, yet he couldn't remember ever having it before this new body. It had to do with his new body, he was sure of it. What could have possibly happened in the last fourteen years that would enable a new part of his mind to appear like this?
He would worry about it later. For now, he needed to check up on his horcruxes. He still possessed links to them all, he just didn't check in on them that often. They were very heavily guarded, after all. Especially since he learned that Lucious had managed to lose one that was later killed off.
"Since when do you have new parts to your mind? I thought we were the only ones." A jealous Tom from his early twenties appeared. "I thought we were your only horcruxes. Don't you trust us to keep you alive?" He staggered back, almost tripping over a rug in his rooms.
"A new...horcrux? But how…?" He let his conscious go back to that new area in his mind, his thoughts whirling around him at a rapid pace. Upon closer examination, now that he knew what to look for, he realized that this was somewhat similar to the connection he had with the horcrux in Nagini. How could he be so blind to not see it before?
After much debate with himself and not being able to recall doing anything that would have allowed this to happen, he decided to cancel his meetings until further notice. It was...almost alive, like his horcrux was perfectly content living in another being rather than setting up camp in his mind. It was well past midnight when he realized how long he had been lost in thought. Deciding enough was enough, he reached out to the space and found himself in a nightmare.
Crimson and gray swirled around his vision as he realized he was seeing things through the beings point of view. He still had no idea what, or who, his horcrux was in and this was no help unless they, or it, decided to walk past a mirror.
And then, searing white-hot pain where he least expected it. The two beings screamed, paid blinding them.
He managed to jerk himself out of the dream, unable to take the pain any longer. The scream was familiar, all too familiar to him. He had heard it in the past, although when he heard it the noise was from anger and frustration. Now it was fear. Fear and pain.
He would have to revisit this link in the morning. For now, he needed to research.