Almost the entire scene with Ginny and Harry was written by EmpyrealFantasy for me, because she wanted me to put the chapter out. Her characterization is not my fault! XD
Warning for Ginny bashing.
In jealousy there is more self-love than love.
François, Duc de La Rochefoucauld, Maxims, 1665
¤
The pages were faded yellow with age, crumbling even under the spells Aspen had placed on them. Voldemort handled each one delicately, staring at it in wonder.
This was Salazar Slytherin's journal, written by the hand of a man he had revered since the moment Voldemort knew who he was; a man who was steadily crushing his years built-up beliefs with each page turned.
He could hardly believe this was real, any of it!
And yet it was ridiculously easy to see how Slytherin's views on muggles and Mudbloods could have been distorted over time with the passing of his tale through generations.
¤
They hate me now. Though they claim they do not, I can see it in their eyes. Trust has passed; they fear my power and what I am doing in the name of our race.
How many years has it been, since we first met? Thirty years ago we built this school, still young and naïve, but with a dream.
I have been accused of tearing that dream apart and Godric is adamant that I leave…
So I will go.
Let their children watch the wizarding world crumble and die around their ears.
I have tried, and I swear…it is not my fault.
¤
It had been two long, grueling days since Harry last slept, but he still he denied himself. He wanted to see Tom again… it seemed he'd been so long without him.
Harry snorted, 'Lovesick teenager, much?' He did sound a little sappy, he admitted. Still, it didn't change the fact that he wanted to go see Tom, and he was going to.
He couldn't have imagined things could fall together this well. For all his apprehensions and misgivings, his life seemed to be falling together into place in ways he had never imagined. Tom had accepted him for who he was. Ron was standing by his side. Remus had actually meant to go Dark before he had even brought the situation to him! It left a warm feeling permeating his soul... but he couldn't help but wonder when it would all go wrong.°
He was, after all, Harry Potter. No matter he was also Aspen Noir, no matter any new circumstances in his life... he had a track record of his life spiraling out of control every time be became content.°
Harry released a breathy sigh and climbed out of bed to greet the night. The moon fell in silver shadow across the room; Harry saw Ron shift around but make no further moves, though Harry knew he was awake.
It would be yet another late night. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he desperately wanted to see him… Harry shut his eyes and disappeared.
His form coalesced in the deep shadows of a reasonably decorated room, its dark colors adding an aura of mystery to the picture before him. As Harry opened his eyes he felt his jaw drop an inch or two. Tom was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, surrounded by papers and books that looked as though they might topple on him if not for the charms holding them up. The man was bent over a messy piece of parchment and scrutinizing it closely as though trying to decipher the handwriting. He hadn't noticed Harry yet, and Harry took the best gazing opportunity he'd had so far.
Tom's paper-white skin nearly glowed under the soft light of torches and a few lamps scattered about the room. He'd rolled up the sleeves of his black silk robes, exposing long, bony arms and hands that had one too many joints on each finger. His arms and what Harry could see of his body and head were totally hairless and devoid of any markings. Where Tom's head bent he could see the joints of spine creating unambiguous bumps in his neck. The man was tall and gaunt beyond measure… He could be the stuff of any child's nightmares.
As this thought came to him, Harry crooked his head. And what did he think? He knew he loved this man beyond all measure - the soul and memories that lurked beneath the surface were all he needed.
But could he be physically attracted to someone who most would think utterly repulsive?
Somehow, Harry couldn't bring himself to find the other's looks disgusting, as many might. If he loved what was inside, did it matter what was on the outside? Sure, looks counted for something, but to Harry, Tom didn't seem monstrous.
Monster…
He wondered what Tom thought of himself now. He couldn't count the number of nights he spent awake in the deep dark, reassuring a crying Tom that he didn't think he was a monster despite the scars the spelled otherwise. Then the other would calm and fall into sleep, awaking with no remembrance of showing a weakness he was sure to loathe. Harry never mentioned it.
Monster…
There were other meanings to the word too; ones he preferred not to think about.
Because Tom had earned his title as the most dangerous Dark Lord in a century. He'd done more terrible things than Harry wanted or cared to imagine. He closed his eyes, trying to banish the thoughts. This was, after all, why he'd given Tom the diary of Salazar. He desperately hoped to changed his mind about this war.
Harry was under no illusions of Tom's mental state. The years had taken a toll beyond belief on him. Harry could see that he was truly Voldemort.
But he was also Harry's Tom, and that was good enough for him.
Harry started to awareness as Tom sighed in exasperation, leaning back tiredly. He moved forward slightly, instinctively seeking to give the other comfort-
When the other twisted hastily, wand in hand.
"Avada-!"
¤
Voldemort felt agitated. He'd taken a break from the journal, finding the systematic tearing down of his ingrained belief system a bit too much to handle.
An hour ago he'd called one of his regular Death Eater meetings. It was nothing extraordinary, just spies and converters handing in reports on their progress. Many were deteriorating in their work, but he found himself being lenient with the Cruciatus tonight - he was simply too distracted to care much about their continued failures.
Ruby eyes skimmed over endless sheets of parchment, barely taking in the words. Voldemort shifted, vaguely wondering what had left him in such a dull, emotionless state. He knew anger could wash it away, fury conquered all when he was like this, drifting…but somehow he couldn't even call that up. He sighed and fidgeted more. Would the paperwork never end?!
His mind wandered back to the journal. He just knew that Aspen had given it to him in an effort to change his views. When Voldemort thought about it, he knew that Aspen would never be able to go through with his plan of killing off Mudbloods and muggles. Although they had not talked of such consequential things, he knew the man had far too soft a heart for killing…
Voldemort realized that he'd read the same scribbled paragraph several times, not taking in any information. He hissed, disgusted at his distraction. It was that journal's fault! The book sat at the edge of the desk just within his reach, taunting him with more shattering truths.
The thought of it being a fake had crossed his mind only once. For one thing, it was written in the language of the snakes, something only one of Slytherin's bloodline could read or write; he'd come across similar characters in the Chamber of Secrets a long time ago. For another, Aspen would not have had time to craft such a detailed account. Besides that, Voldemort knew he wouldn't do such a thing. Aspen was too open, too honest…too Light to lie to him.
A sudden wistful longing swept through his chest. It had only been two nights, but he missed Aspen's presence. Voldemort wanted to touch him, feel the warmth of his skin, know that Aspen was really here, existing - not another figment of his growing madness.
Madness tormented him, sending his emotions careening up and down faster than the quickest broom. In the worst times it seemed as though he was being watched, surrounded by the many victims of his triumphs. His fury heightened - he killed, maimed, and tortured his enemies with glee. Then madness would seep away for a while, hidden but never gone, leaving him calm. Things then repeated themselves again, completely beyond his control….
But then Aspen came back and things were better. Voldemort hadn't felt an inkling of that maniacal rage in days and neither was there the dull listlessness that had plagued him intermittently. Here was his comforting darkness, wrapped in the package of a young vampire that seemed so set on loving him.
He almost laughed at the irony of it all. The world's supposed savior in love with its proclaimed monster! Voldemort even questioned to himself if he deserved to be loved, knowing what an atrocity he must be in the eyes of others…
Then he remembered those lips on his own, recalled hands in the dark and told himself he didn't care. Harry was supposed to be saving the world. Voldemort glanced at the journal. He supposed in a way, he was…
Distracted as he was, Voldemort took no notice in the change of his surroundings.
A tiny sound and shift in the air was all it took for Voldemort to go from detached to high alert. He whirled around to face the intruder, wand pointed and an "Avada-" halfway off his tongue before he could stop it.
Harry let out a shocked whimper and stepped back. Instantly Voldemort lowered his wand, his chest seizing with realization of what he'd almost done.
"S-sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to surprise you…" Voldemort set his wand next to a stack of parchment, rubbing a crease in his brow.
"Aspen, I almost killed you," hard as he tried, he couldn't stop a strained note from entering his voice. Harry instantly grew concerned, moving forward to lay a comforting hand on his arm. Voldemort felt the heat of the touch through his robes and shivered.
"You know it wouldn't have killed me."
"That doesn't make it any better!" Voldemort spat, hours of frustration and longing wearing on him, "I could not bear to watch you die again, ever! I need you here…"
Warm fingers running across the cool skin of his temple made him sag back in his chair, ruby eyes closing. Tension drained away from his shoulders and jaw, leaving dull aches in places he hadn't realized he had been taut. He realized Harry was speaking, but the words escaped him for the moment. All that mattered was the soft skin brushing against him, the presence of the only person he could ever love…°
He pulled out of his musings just in time to catch Aspen's question as the young man stared him in the eyes.
"-play a game of self-doubt, not knowing which side I'm on! You say you want me to come to the Dark…be with you?" Harry seemed torn.
Voldemort was silent for a moment, stunned at Aspen's sudden insecurity, before his serpentine face relaxed he leaned over to wrap his arms around the young man's shoulders.
"It's a little late to be worrying about sides, Assspen," he put a caressing hiss to the name, "you are already intensely deep-rooted in the Dark," he paused, not quite sure if what he was going to say next would be accepted or not, "When we annihilate the Ministry and its hidebound ways, we will lead the wizarding world together, as equals in the Dark." He waited for a moment to see if this proclamation in any way comforted him. It seemed to do the trick, for Aspen eventually sighed and slowly pulled away.
"I'm not much for world domination, but…if it's with you I suppose it'll be all right," the vampire smirked to show his sarcasm. Then his face fell, Aspen's golden eyes glazing over as he stared into nothing. "I still have people I care for on the Light side. They are my friends and I don't think I could ever go up against them…"
"Then get them to join you." The solution seemed exceedingly simple to the Dark Lord. "If they aren't loyal to you, then these 'friends' aren't worth the effort it would take to keep them alive."
Aspen gaped at him open-mouthed for several moments. Then he seemed to pull himself together and smiled, leaning into Voldemort's embrace.
"'Suppose that makes sense."
Voldemort smirked.
¤
Ginny loved it when he smiled. Even before she'd met him for the first time, Ginny had loved him. Like any other young witch, she'd been regaled with tales of Harry Potter's triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and while most of them were purely fictional, they'd still served to instill unwavering hero worship in her.
He was everything any girl could ever want. He was gallant and brave, rich and chivalrous. Even if he hadn't been impressive when she had first met him, she had been able to see the hero she had grown up reading about, the Prince she had always knew she deserved as a little girl.
And she would be his Princess.
Of course, Ginny didn't indulge in such childish notions now (so she told herself). No, she was more mature than that, really!
He had grown handsome, as well, as he'd gotten older. Soon she hadn't been the only girl with her eyes on him, and competition among the other girls was beginning to rise. But none of them could have him, he was her Prince. They had been destined since the day he had saved her from the Chamber... couldn't they see that?! He was hers and it was obvious. He just needed to realize it, that was all.
She'd tried getting him jealous by dating others, but he didn't even seem to notice. His obliviousness really was endearing, but there was only so much a girl could take. She was going to have to take this into her own hands if she wanted to get her Happily Ever After sooner rather than later. Harry would understand, of course. He had to know, as well, that they were meant to be.
Ginny knew Harry had great things ahead of him. She could see it now... Harry, posture regal, shoulder-length hair blowing in the wind and exposing his lightning bolt scar, standing on the battlefield after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's second defeat at his hands. And there she would be beside him, their hands clasped and looking toward the dawning of a new day. They would be married immediately, of course, and the Wizarding world would rejoice as she brought his children into the world - the children of their Savior. She could see this future as clearly as if it was happening, and her heart leapt in anticipation. She had to have this. There was no doubt in her mind that she would.
Her fantasies might have continued had Ron not let out a loud whoop from the corner where he haunted with his chess set, his familiar voice calling her attention. And there, in the flesh, was her fantasy, smiling sheepishly as Ron no doubt gloated over his victory.
Ginny stood from her chair and quickly fixed her hair in the most aesthetic way she knew. This was it. The moment she had been preparing for since she was a child. With a stroke of inspiration she turned and made sure no one watched her before undoing a couple of the buttons on her school shirt and arranging herself to give herself the maximum cleavage possible. She already knew he wouldn't refuse her, but a little added incentive never hurt anyone.
Harry was standing now from his place across from Ron, waving off her brother's loud attempts to coerce him into another game, "No, Ron. I'll just get myself trounced again! I've got pride too, you know," Harry laughed, "Well, sometimes at least."
"Oh, c'mon mate! You may not be a challenge but at least you're better company than most of this lot! Besides, it's great on my self esteem to thrash you thoroughly!"
Harry gave a mock glare and his chin jutted out imperiously, "Sir, you have insulted my honor for the last time! Good day to you!"
Ron placed a hand over his heart and looked about to retort when he saw Ginny watching them with a raised eyebrow, a sheepish grin overcoming his features, "Oh, hey Ginny. What's up?"
Ginny ignored her brother and gave a coy smile to Harry, dipping her head and looking up at him through her lashes, "Harry, can I talk to you for a minute, please?"
Harry smiled at her - oh, that smile... so innocent and sweet. That hadn't changed since the day she met him - and nodded, "Sure, Ginny, what do you need?"
She paused and sighed internally, taking another step forward and fluttering her lashes, "Alone, please?"
She noticed Ron's narrowed eyes and knew she had to hurry; her brother was an idiot but he was also one of the single biggest influences on Harry. Her smile became strained as Harry tilted his head, "Well, alright..."
She grabbed him by the wrist with a sweet smile and yanked him towards the portrait hole, hurrying before Ron could open his overly large mouth. Ginny took a risk and shot him a look that promised pain if he interfered, and she was surprised by the pitying look she received in return.
What was that about?
Ginny shook her head and pushed her way out of the common room with Harry dragging along behind her, a confused look on his face, "Ginny? Where are we going?"
She looked back over her shoulder at him, her sweet look turning into what she hoped was a sultry, mysterious smile, "Just getting some privacy, Harry."
He blinked again in return. Ginny wasn't sure if she wanted to coo at his cuteness or smack him upside the head for stupidity. Both seemed favorable.
There was an empty classroom not far from the Fat Lady that Ginny had been using for months with her dates, and she steered Harry in that direction now. She refused to be interrupted by some jealous girl who thought they deserved Harry more. He was hers, by Merlin, and she would see to it that it was known to everyone in the school by morning.
There was no one in the room; Ginny was glad for this. It was a popular spot for more... surreptitious meetings and she had often had to threaten to hex anyone who was using the room in her stead.
She let Harry go reluctantly and resumed looking at the ground at his feet, twirling a bit of her long, fiery hair around her finger, "So, how are you, Harry?"
Harry cocked his head, "Umm, good... what do you need, Ginny?"
She let out a huffing breath and toed the ground, "Well, I was wondering Harry," she watched him through her lashes, "If you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend. Madame Puddifoot's has an autumn theme right now, and I thought it would be nice if we could..." she paused and took a step closer to him, "Spend some time together."
Harry's enchanting green eyes widened and she couldn't quite read the emotions he was showing, "Erm, well, I don't know if that's such a good idea..."
Her breath caught. He wasn't meant to be resistant. It was time to up the ante. She took another step forward and made sure her ample chest was in his sight, nibbling her lip and shifting her hips, "Whyever not, Harry? I would really... love to go with you," she brought up and hand and ran her fingers over the collar of his shirt, "Wouldn't you?"
The wide-eyes look only took on a more panicked edge, and Ginny was exasperated by this point, "Look, Ginny, you're a sweet girl, really... but I just don't think it would be a good idea..."
She was moving out of exasperation and into anger now, "You're being silly, Harry. Of course it would be a good idea! If you're worried about my brothers..."
"I'm seeing someone!" Harry blurted out without a pause between the words, scooting away from her slow advancements, "So I'm really sorry, Ginny, but it just isn't..."
"Who?" she cut in with a deadly tone, brown eyes narrowed.
Harry was edging for the door now, "It isn't important! No one, really... but you see, I simply can't go on a date with you while I'm seeing someone else! That would be wrong, wouldn't it? So I should be going..."
"There's no way she's better than me!" Ginny interrupted again, "Whatever classless slut has screwed with your mind, Harry... she's nothing. She only wants you because you're famous! I can save you, Harry, and give you everything that low-class harlot couldn't-"
Harry stopped his retreat and snarled - yes, snarled at her. She stepped back as his magic danced around the room in an artificial wind, "Don't you dare insult him!"
Ginny felt like that world was frozen around her, her heartbeat loud in her ears, "Him?"
The magic swirling around the room vanished at once and Harry slapped his hands over his mouth. He was gone before Ginny could even register he had opened the door.
And Ginny stared at the open doorway in shock for long minutes after.
¤
It was a long time before Ginny moved from her spot. She walked numbly through the halls, her mind still trying to register what she's just heard.
Him…Him…Him…
She didn't even register giving the Fat Lady the password and climbing through the portrait hole. She rushed through the common room, ignoring the stares after her and rushing to her dormitory.
Her Prince…had been angry with her!
"I'm seeing someone!"
Ginny had been trying for so long to get him to notice her, notice her assets that she'd continually tried to shove in is face. She'd even gone out with a bunch of other men in attempt to make him jealous - not that she hadn't enjoyed it - but still Harry had not noticed.
"Don't you dare insult him!"
Him…
Ginny's stomach clenched and bile threatened to spill as her mind finally latched onto the thought. Her Prince, in love with a man?! The thought was disgusting - sickening to even suggest. There was just no way Harry could be in love with a male. The image she'd held of the Boy-Who-Lived since she was a little girl threatened to corrode, but Ginny forced it away. There was no way this could happen. The other man must have corrupted Harry…
That was it! A love potion, a spell? If she could find and break it, Harry would see the light and be hers forever. She would have to hunt down this man and separate him from her beloved…
Then punish him for stealing Harry from her.
But how to do all of this? Ginny had no idea where to begin.
Ginny started violently as the dorm door swung in with no warning. She twisted to see who dared enter her domain with her in such a state.
Just as quickly, Ginny repressed a growing smirk and let large crocodile tears loose between her lashes, knowing they would make her appear distressed but not ruin her perfect appearance.
In the doorway stood the concerned face of the sixth year Lavender Brown, Hogwarts' most renowned gossip.
'This will work,' she thought as Lavender opened her mouth to ask what happened, and as a plan bloomed in her mind. Soon, very soon, she would have her Prince back.
¤
O! beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on.
William Shakespeare, Othello
¤
A/N: Yes, so...uh, writer's block. As in "almost didn't continue the story" writer's block. All of you must give EmpyrealFantasy a big hug and a fat story review for whipping me into shape. :D
° Paragraph written by Empy with minimum editing.
Please review if you guys care about seeing another chapter! XP