Wizard Under The Troll Bridge

Abby Ebon

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Disclaimer: Let us review that word; dis-claim-er; not only am I not claiming it, I am "dis"-ing you while doing so; thus - no "own"-age of the Harry Potter or the Hellboy. Don't worry, this is the last time I'll try to be "cute" or "teen" with a disclaimer; your poor eyes.

Note; … we have (curtsey of yours truly) a cutesy cat!Harry Potter image-icon for this story! Say it with me; "awww"! It's the little icon/avatar my bio/profile page, you shouldn't miss it – unless you read this sometime after '09 or February, then you might miss it …oppsie…?

Ha! I did it; "part two" of the Valentines Day double post! Yay!…no one cares very much that it is a few hours late…right?

Beta(s):

wolf-shinigami, (as of 10/19/09) who has done a fantastic job of fixing up some of the odd bits here and there.

artscribler, (as of 11/4/09) who might have guessed that I put the '*' in Tom's thought-sending to Harry at the same time as editing this to stop confusing myself.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

If The Trap Is Set

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Indignity sprawled across a comfortable lap, Harry – even waking slowly (which was a rare thing) – was aware he was being petted. Elegant fingers smoothed over his ruffled fur, scratching soothingly at his ears. One of his ears twitched. He was content, though he did not remember changing into a cat – such things, at times, simply happened to him. He had gotten used to not questioning the how and whys after the fact. He was only grateful he was not purring… yet.

"Do you think that our little wizard dreams while he cat-sleeps?" It was Fragglewump – her voice childlike and curious – who asked this of whomever Bog'ma and Bogey had entrusted his care to. Harry fought not to give himself away by tensing. He was a cat. She was Fragglewump. It was in her nature to snack on the likes of him. It was in his nature to disagree with her.

"If he does, they are better dreams then he usually has." It was soothing to him, this voice. If Harry had not been stirred to waking, he would have been lulled back to sleep. Harry let his tail twitch with bemusement; it would not give him away, as Harry was well known for moving and talking and screaming in his sleep. He knew this voice – these hands.

He would know them, even if he was half-dead. Watching the unaware Fragglewump with half shut eyes, knowing and trusting that he would be safe, he let his mind drift. He remembered well, waking the first time under the Troll Bridge. Even so, Nagini had not left his side. He had woken to her wrapped about him protectively, even as Bogey argued with his neighbors about what to do with him.

Some had suggested eating him.

Most had suggested killing in some way.

A few had suggested dismemberment.

None of them had been particularly pleased that a wizard child was among them. Harry had asked Nagini where he was – and then…they had understood. Harry spoke the serpent language. Harry was not a wizard; with his dual-soul, basilisk venom blood, and the magic that flickered and spiked without a pattern or solid nature, to them his nature was clear – he was troll. Bogey had been the first to see that, though – luckily – not the last.

Still, even with his nature revealed – he was not trusted. He was not a neighbor to them; not yet.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Nagini, are there more tainted souls?" There was no word for Horcrux in the serpent tongue, but Harry made do. Nagini reared up beside him, face to face with him. She stared for a while as if measuring her words. She did answer.

"Three, little wizard, linger still in this world." He let go the breath he had been holding.

"Where are they?" Nagini curled closer to him, as if to prevent him from leaving her side. For now, Harry was content to listen to her, yet he knew his self appointed task would not allow him long to linger.

"Beyond even your reach, little wizard.One, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, lays in a vault belonging to the witch Bellatrix Lestrange, beneath the wizard bank – Gringotts. Another, the tarnished diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, can only be reached when you seek a room in which to hide a thing within Hogwarts. The third and last, the locket of Salazar Slytherin was lost – even to my once friend." Harry felt something like despair seep into him. Opposing it was Tom, his giddy relief was an almost physical thing. It did nothing to cheer Harry – then again – it was not meant to.

Stop it. Harry asked Tom, even as he looked away from Nagini.

*Why should I? You can not now destroy yourself in some misguided attempt to make me whole.* There was a sneering curiosity in his tone, it had not escaped Harry that Tom had gained with his definition a sense of personality that did not waver with what Harry wanted and did not want. There was morality now – and ethics – that Harry could not quite grasp. It was as if as much as Tom was changing, Harry was changing as well. It frightened him, sometimes – that thought – but Harry knew it was right, to give Tom this second chance.

I'll find a way, you watch me. Something like a sigh ruffled though his thoughts.

*Did you ever stop and think, Harry, that maybe I don't want to be whole? That maybe, like this, I'm a bit happier with you living? It may be the only thing He has done right, hiding the bits of that…my sodden soul. Good riddance to it.* There was bitterness in Tom, and intensity to have his way – and something like determined self-destruction. Harry knew (because of what Tom knew) that all Tom had to do was wait – then he'd fade, bit by bit, into Harry. He wouldn't have a voice or thoughts, or be anything but more of the strange flux of raw magic that kept Harry alive.

Tom wanted that.

Harry did not. As it didn't really change anything, even if Tom faded, Harry would still die. The only difference was – in the end – Tom would not know if he had it his way.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Why are they arguing?" Harry asked the hovering Nagini. Since he had saved her life, she seemed determined to return the favor – if only in by playing the part of babysitting him. Harry felt as if he was a bird with clipped wings. For all that he could move freely and willful about in the Market and other places beneath Troll Bridge, he was simply not trusted to the secret of the surface.

"They argue for knowledge, for secrets –it is our trade, what we value most." It was Bogey that answered him.

Harry pressed his lips together in thought, a riddle tugged at his memory.

"...Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there...."

Slowly, Harry smiled. He felt the faint stirring of protest from Tom – but it was too late.

"Bogey, what would the trolls give to have access to the location of Gringotts?" It was asked innocently enough, but Bogey must have sensed something in his tone for when he looked down at Harry, there was a great gapping grin that stretched over his lips.

"A great many things, little wizard, would we give…." That was just the sort of answer that Harry had been looking for. Still, it could be a trick if he did not choose his words with care. Bogey merely watched him patiently, yet there was an eager look to him, as if Harry was finally learning to do things right, or at least the proper way – the troll way.

To sooth himself, so he did not rush his thoughts or words, he stroked the scales along the ridge of Nagini's back, only then, with Nagini watching Bogey carefully – as if for a trick – did he speak.

"I only want one thing, really, in trade - the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, it lies in a vault belonging to the witch Bellatrix Lestrange… will you fetch it for me if I tell you where to find Gringotts?" Bogey frowned and fidgeted. Harry would not know until later that wizards often betrayed trolls with trickery. Bogey would be taking gamble by trusting him. It was thought to be in wizard nature, such betrayal.

"You have my word, lad." Harry had been waiting for those words, for a troll kept his word – even if everything else was lost to him. So without fear, Harry told.

He did not know that between the goblins and the trolls was a rivalry that was riff with grief and greed. He did not know that by being a wizard and by giving up the location of the prized wizard bank, knowledge horded by goblins, he was – in the eyes of his neighbors – throwing away the last ties to the world above that had made him a wizard.

To them, now, he was truly troll and to be trusted among them. He was given the cup, as a part of that trust, the day they raided Gringotts.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry had not thought, until he met Bog'ma, and the half-blind white dragon, Itë, in the aftermath of the raid, that Gringotts might also be a prison. He was sickened and wondered at what other grim secretes the goblins (or wizards…?) might have hidden. Bog'ma came to him the day of the raid to deliver with Bogey the cup – his "prize" – and to see for herself the boy wizard that had told her people (who had long thought she, one of the immortal, had – impossibly – died or "faded" from this world) where Gringotts was.

"Here it is, though what you want it for, the likes of we can not guess," Bogey told him in undertone, glancing – distracted – to Bog'ma every once in while.

"It is like with Nagini, only an object – not a living thing – still, it is tainted with a soul," Harry explained as he took the cup that once belonged to a Founder of his beloved school. He felt a similar thrill from Tom.

"What will you do with it, this bit of imprisoned soul?" Bog'ma asked her eyes glinting and suspicious of him. Tom was filled with a sudden dislike of her. Harry shook it off, feeling a bit of pity. Bog'ma had every reason to be wary. She knew what it was like to be trapped.

Harry wondered if Tom felt, secretly, the same stifling anger toward Harry for being as imprisoned as he was by flesh and blood and bone. Harry felt then sick. Hollow. Disgusted. He was a living tomb. A prison for someone he considered a friend.

He was worse then the wizards and goblins he was so horrified by.

*Your being silly, Harry – that isn't true. Stop thinking such thoughts. What we have, its symbiotic – or parasitical – to live, we both need each other. You are no more just my prison then I am merely your anchor to this life. We are more then that.* Tom told him, in soft tones – almost sympathetic, as if Harry would by frightened by anything less then such kindness. Sometimes, it was as if Tom thought Harry was delicate – something breakable – someone to be protected.

"I'll take it into me, where the rest of the soul is – well, all but two more fragments," Harry told Bogey, his tone matter of fact. There was no hiding it, as Bogey had seen what he could do. He had "cured" Nagini. It was none of Bogey's business if Harry intended to see his self appointed task fulfilled.

"You are duel-soul," Bog'ma stated, frowning at him after she had inhaled as if scenting the other soul within him.

"Yes," Harry nodded, glancing to Bogey for a hint to where she was leading with her words.

"You were not born as such," Bog'ma told him, almost sadly – sympathetic. It was as if she thought her words would change things. Harry frowned, not sure what it was she meant.

"I might as well have been." Harry told her, remembering what Tom had said. There had always been a bit of Tom in him. It was what had made their first connection possible. Bog'ma glanced to Bogey, as if to make it plain what she thought of Harry's reasoning. She thought he was a fool. Bogey nervously stepped forward, attempting to explain Bog'ma and her warning in a way that Harry would understand.

"That is not what she means, little wizard. She is warning you. Those like you – well, not exactly like you, but those that have sought power by eating the souls of others as you seem to do – they know that you can't take too much into you too quickly or you loose yourself, or change. Or maybe, die, or maybe, worse." Harry nodded slowly, thoughtfully as his mind drifted elsewhere; his fingers bushed the chill metal of the cup. He thought he felt the echo of Tom's soul, tugging him in two different ways. He could not concentrate on the present and on what he felt. Tom was suddenly there – "in front" of his mind – keeping Harry from feeling the soul that tugged insistently at him – wanting to be one with the greater whole of Tom that was within Harry.

"I know," Harry told the two of them, looking Bog'ma in the eyes. They seemed to flinch. Harry wondered at that – an immortal being would cringe from the choice he had? It seemed almost something he had not seen, but had imagined.

"Then why do you risk it, green eyes?" There was a fondness in Bog'ma then. It was something Harry could not deny. He was not imagining it.

"He…he is as close to a friend as I have ever had. He, at least, has always been truthful to me. He has never lied, or pretended to be anyone to me but who he is." Harry felt as if he was confessing. He felt Tom listening, as easily as Bogey and Bog'ma did. Harry wondered what they thought, but did not dwell on it. He worried at what his clear mindedness was costing Tom. With a nod to each, he went into the den that Nagini had made theirs. He huddled in the darkness of his room, the bedding flung about. And waited.

Tom did not disappoint him.

*Thank you, Harry.* It was whisper soft, there was affection there.

Don't mention it, please… Harry thought as he closed his eyes bringing his thumb to his lip. Just as he was about to bite down and let the blood flow, he heard something like a creak of a floorboard. It was his only warning – Harry was not alone.

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has found you! Dumbledore will be so happy to know you are well!" He closed his eyes, amused by the abrupt appearance of the House Elf. He was also relived. It was not a witch, or a wizard; he did not have to fear for the safety of his neighbors.

*What is THAT…?* Tom was startled, and annoyed. Harry found himself amused.

Dobby, he is a House Elf – he was bound to the Malfoy family, last I knew…He told Tom the name fondly, though it did nothing to ease the annoyance he felt from the other.

*I would never have guessed.* Harry would have told him not to be so sarcastic, but he remembered something Dobby had said before Tom had interrupted.

"Dobby! What are you doing here? What do you mean, Dumbledore…? Aren't you the Malfoy family House Elf?" Harry asked of him, truly curious. Harry knew that the little elf cared for him. He had tried to keep him from danger, even though "keeping from danger" had meant – often – being the source of mischief.

"Dobby is not! Dobby was freed by the noble Dumbledore; Dobby is now Hogwarts House Elf!" Harry could barely make out the rush of words, but he understood the gist of it. He realized then, what had not dawned on him – he was being looked for. He tried to remember how much time had passed since he had gone looking for Riddle Manor – since he had been tucked underground within Troll Bridge.

He could not. It seemed to him as if time was slipping by, unnoticed.

"Dobby, you must not tell Dumbledore where I am at. It is a secret. Please…will you keep it?" Dobby puffed his chest up his chin tilting. However much it bemused Harry to see the little House Elf so full of pride at keeping important secrets, he knew, as well, that Dobby would keep his word. He would not tell, not even if he was "punished".

"Dobby gives promise, Dobby not tells! But why is the noble Harry Potter sir…here?" Dobby looked about himself, fidgeting and nervous. Harry knew then that Dobby was not here by accident. He knew he was under Troll Bridge. It chilled Harry that wizards and witches did not even realize that House Elves could go so freely when it was their will. No other creature could go so unnoticed among his neighbors.

"I will tell you, if you do a favor for me," Harry asked of Dobby, feeling guilt tug at him even as he remembered what Nagini had told him. That the tarnished diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, can only be reached when you seek a room in which to hide a thing within Hogwarts. If anyone could get it for him, it would be Dobby.

"Dobby will do it! Harry Potter has only to name the favor!" Giddily, the words had spilled out of Dobby. Harry was gentler; though he might well not have been – Dobby did not know that he what he sought was one of the two Horcrux that were left.

The next morning, it appeared on his pillow. With a smear of his blood on the surface of both, Harry did not hesitate to take the fragmented souls within him. He felt Tom's reluctance, but he did not try to stop him – not this time. Tom knew now that what he had done had nearly killed Harry.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Fingers itched along his spine, drawing him back to the here and now.

"He is very pretty, is he not? Such fine black fur, you'd never know of the white if you didn't see the stripe under his belly – odd, that the amber-orange is only in a few places, do you not agree it is like shadows under the old trees?" Harry would rather to have liked to think of it as an odd sort of camouflage, but as long as Fragglewump did not compare him to some sort of snack, Harry was not going to argue with her.

"Hush. He wakes." Opening his eyes, Harry saw that it was not only Fragglewump that was near. It looked – from his place on the lap that had claimed him – that every neighbor he had met in passing, or had dealings with since his arrival to Troll Bridge, had decided to show up. With a flick of his tail, he remembered Bog'ma and her words.

A proper envoy, indeed, Harry thought nervously his gaze flicking over the crowd. It will be a wonder if the upper world does not know our secret by the end of the day.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Note; also, for all you Hellboy/Harry (second highest votes) and Abe/Harry (surprisingly third highest, and one I confess I mused on quite a bit) fans, having not forgotten to spread the love – I'll be writing up two more Harry/Hellboy x-over stories they should be out soon so be on the lookout; "Bad To The Bounty" and "Stranger In The Lake" – enjoy and know that you are loved.

…was that too creepy?