This is the unbetaed version of this chapter, considering I wanted it to get out as soon as possible with all the begging I've been subjected to. XD Edited version will be put up when I get it back from Empy.
"To the sober fantasy resides in a world that cannot be reached, but for the insane fantasy is a world that cannot be left." -Unknown
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Hogwarts drew herself up as if taking in a deep breath. If she were any younger, she would be getting impatient with her heirs' antics by now. But she was well-aged, so Hogwarts was content to stay back and let her children fumble for themselves, as long as there were no more wishes.
Patience is a virtue, after all.
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Harry stared at his friend in horror for a moment, but the redhead groaned in pain, shaking him out of his shock.
"Ron! Ron, stay here, I'm going to get Madame Pomphrey!" Before he could move Ron's hand shot out to grab his.
"No! They don't believe me! I tried to tell Hermione, but she just brushed it off," he nearly shrieked. His eyes peered widely into Harry's and his hand was sweaty and shaking. "Please…they can't help," Ron whispered.
Harry sank to his knees beside his friend. The hand that wasn't clutching Harry's was still cradling Ron's own red mop. His hands seemed to tremble as if barely restrained from bashing his own head in. Harry's distress went up a few more notches when Ron whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Ron…" he began, but didn't know what to say. He didn't understand what was going on. "What's happening to you?"
"It was the brain, Harry; that brain I summoned in the Department of Mysteries. It did something to my mind," his eyes shot open, pinning him beneath a desperate gaze, "I've suddenly just started knowing things. There are voices in my head, telling me what to do! They're always saying not to trust anyone, to guard myself all the time. They're hardly ever quiet. Now…they're telling me to kill people, Harry! I…I'm scared of what I might do," he tightened his hold on Harry's wrist, and Harry knew if he was anyone else it would be painful. He had an idea, but faltered. "I really need help, please?" Ron's blue eyes bore into him, reading his hesitancy. "Something, anything, while I can control myself."
The last of Harry's uncertainty was pushed down. He knew he would help and only one way came immediately to mind. He scooted closer to Ron so they faced each other. Ron had yet to let go of his hand.
"Ron, the only way I can think of…I'd have to go into your mind," he murmured.
"Just …do what you have to." Nodding, Harry stared, knowing this would be infinitely easier if he had eye contact. Ron's pained blues stared back.
"Legillimens!"
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Ron's mind was a familiar chaotic whirl, just as Harry's had been before Noir took it upon himself to drill Occlumency into him, but unfortunately the technique had only become effective after his lessons with Snape.
Carefully, Harry waded through the whirl of memories, making sure not to look at any. There was no resistance, and this surprised him. Just as Harry started wondering what could possibly be wrong, he felt tremors ghosting past his presence, emanating from the very center of Ron's mind, making Harry pause+. Long ago, Noir told him that the imagined "core" of a mind held a person's magic and life force - to intrude upon that would be the deepest invasion of privacy a Legillimens could possibly perform.
He felt another ripple shudder around him and started hearing mute whispers and a ghost of the pain Ron might possibly be feeling. Harry suddenly couldn't bear to prolong his friend's agony. There was nothing for it, he had to help Ron! Harry pushed forward, deeper than he'd ever been in anyone's mind.
Finally his presence reached the center, where even his untrained friend would be able to sense his intrusion. Harry gasped mentally at the sight that overwhelmed him.
There was his friend's brightly shining 'core,' the massed amount of his magic and soul that shone silver-gold and glowed like a dim sun. Attached to the core was a sickly, gelatinous membrane substance the color of snot. Harry felt vaguely ill looking at the thing that was the exact replica of the brain from the Department of Mysteries in all but color and size.
The thing was huge! It's tentacles wrapped entirely around Ron's core as if trying to smother it. As Harry watched it contracted slightly, squeezing. Harry heard a distant yell and the whispers around him seemed to grow louder. He felt as if he didn't' have much time. Not know what else to do, Harry reached out with a tendril of thought to touch the brain, trying to pry it away.
The moment he touched the entity he knew he was out of his league. Harry had never been good at the mind arts, just good enough to get by; they required too much concentration, he being more of a power person. The brain struck him with a lashing tentacle and such fury that he was nearly sent careening back into his own head.
'There's no way I can do this. Bugger, I don't think Snape would be able to deal with this thing!'
In that moment of thought another lash almost hit him, but Harry evaded. Formulating a decision, he made a tactical retreat.
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If not he or Snape, there was only one person he trusted. He needed Tom. The lord would be the only one able to fix this.
"Ron, I to have to take you to Tom," Harry spoke when he finally withdrew, shaken.
Ron stared at him, the whites of his eyes showing in panic. He was obviously hard-pressed to keep from fleeing.
"What?! Why?"
Harry bit his lip.
"I'm not powerful enough when it comes to Legillimency. I can't get that…thing to let go of your mind! Tom would be able to do it, since he's much better at these things than I am," Harry spoke evenly, trying to sooth his friend's near terror. Ron suddenly squeezed his eyes shut, holding his head again - except this time he didn't make a sound. After a minute he looked up hesitantly.
"You…have no idea how loud they're screaming at me now, for even thinking of trusting you," he chuckled hoarsely, "Take me there, then," his voice was firm. Harry nodded resolutely, helping the gangly boy to his feet. The taller looked down at him, waiting for his instructions and occasionally wincing at another screech in his head.
It took a moment for Harry to check over their link if Tom was free. The Dark Lord indicated he was and he felt a tinge of curiosity drift over as he cut the connection.
"Ok. Uh, to let you know, this might feel a little weird." He gripped Ron's arm and closed his eyes, concentrating. In a moment they both disappeared.
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Voldemort steepled his fingers in front of him, glaring at Wormtail until the overweight rat skittered from his line of vision. He wouldn't vocalize it of course, but Voldemort had a problem.
He was bored.
This wasn't unusual as of late; he seemed unable to focus on the mundane tasks required of him when he knew that somewhere out there was a beautiful young man who wanted him more than anyone else in the world. Not for power, not for prestige… but for love. It had been months since Aspen had come back into his life, but still the mere idea of it shocked him. He could ignore that he was Harry Potter, ignore that the boy had actually moved beyond their past and made something wonderful between them…
The article that morning had been amusing. He was sure Aspen would be horribly worried about its repercussions, and though Voldemort was aware that it had been atrocious timing for such a revelation, it really was not the end of the world. The allegations of Harry's involvement with Malfoy Jr. had irritated him no matter how impossible they were, and he mentally marked down Rita Skeeter off on his list of people to kill - right after Dumbledore and Ginerva Weasley. She wasn't important enough to be priority over them, after all. The Daily Prophet itself for actually printing such a ludicrous article came next, followed by Snape in the most painful way possible once he'd outlived his use…
'Tom? Tom, are you busy?'
Voldemort paused in his musings as the object of his thoughts suddenly sounded in his mind in a voice that verged on panic. 'Aspen? No, I'm free… what is the problem?'
The young vampire didn't answer, and Voldemort was concerned and more than a small bit curious. It seemed, in true Harry Potter fashion, Aspen couldn't get even a moment's rest. Something exciting or disrupting always seemed to follow him, no matter the name he went by. A hairless brow raised as the younger man Flicked into the room with his arms around a half-limp Ronald Weasley, Aspen's bright eyes pleading. "Tom, I… can you help him?"
Voldemort stood and walked over to where Aspen was settling the Weasley on the floor, glancing over the redhead. He seemed in pain despite the lack of injury, sweat beading along his hairline and his brow scrunched together. "What is the problem?"
"His mind…" Aspen was obviously having problems putting his thought into words, as his hands waved around frantically, "That thing…it's disgusting… I'm not nearly a talented enough Legillimens to fix this…" The young man was observably pleading for his help, frustrated and panicked.
"I'll be cleaning up your messes from now on, won't I?" Voldemort sighed. Casting a quick glance at his anxious lover, Voldemort leaned over Weasley and pressed his wand to the boy's temple. "Legillimens."
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His thoughts were revoltingly unorganized, as becoming of a Weasley brat. Voldemort growled to himself. Already he could feel something was wrong and he didn't have time to deal with these miniscule stray thoughts.
Voldemort harshly shoved his way through, careful not to damage anything. Aspen would be upset if he harmed this boy further. He reached the boy's center with hardly any effort.
But he quickly recoiled.
Had some ghost hacked a grotesque, malignant loogie on Weasley's mind? It certainly appeared that way. Voldemort didn't have anymore time to contemplate on the thing's disgusting appearance, as one of its visible tentacles uncoiled, grasping at his mind and seeking to destroy him. He sneered, understanding immediately that this parasite was the thing responsible for breaking the Weasley boy and causing such distress to his love.
Bracing his mind, Voldemort readied himself for attack with a surge of rage. The blob, now identified as a brain, was very strong. If he couldn't destroy it, he was going to lock the thing away forever.
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Surprising even Harry, Tom asked few questions, instead setting right to work on his half-conscious friend.
Harry cast his eyes around for a chair, needing to sit down and try to regain his mental equilibrium, but his thoughts were waylaid when he spied a very familiar mass of balding gelatinous traitor. Harry's lip lifted in a cross between a smirk and a snarl, settling on the cowering Pettigrew. "Well, well, well…Hello Wormtail," the words escaped in a hiss before Harry could stop them.
His fingers twitched in an aborted attempt to clench them into a fist; knowing his temper, he thought he would preempt any injury to his person by keeping his steadily sharpening nails away from his flesh. His mental state was already unbalanced by the Daily Prophet article, Ginny, Malfoy, and now Ron. And who better to take out his rage upon than the sniveling little parasite in front of him?
This man was the betrayer of his parents and Sirius. Though Harry had long ago put aside his hatred for what Tom had done, he couldn't find it in himself to do the same for Peter.
But no…Tom probably wouldn't appreciate him ripping one of his servants limb from limb or draining them into a shriveled husk… so Harry resisted every urge to leap at Pettigrew and pay him back for every consequence of his actions. All his instincts were suddenly screaming at him to make this man prey…he had to forcibly remind himself of the Ancients' promise not to take blood from those unwilling. Harry forced himself to stay still and merely watch the cowering rat.
He saw the moment Pettigrew put two and two together, saw the way watery eyes flicked up towards Harry's forehead then back to eyes that, though occasionally flashing gold, still hovered mostly on his famous green. Lily's eyes, they'd always said, and Pettigrew would have seen those eyes often in their original owner. Pettigrew was putting two and two together - glancing between Harry and Tom. The man was a coward, but he was clever.
"H-Harry…" Pettigrew whined out, eyes round.
"I don't recall ever being familiar enough with you to allow you to use my name like that," Harry snarled, "And you won't refer to me at all if you know what's good for you. You're only alive right now because I can't ask for permission to end your miserable existence." Really, these past few day hadn't been good to him, to make him so snippy.
The man either didn't seem to hear or believe the threat, starting to blather on, begging and whining for his forgiveness. Harry stared at the whimpering man trying to scrabble for some non-violent way to get the man away from him. Nothing came up in a hurry.
"Get away from me!" Harry yelled, kicking at Pettigrew when the man came a little to close for comfort in his groveling. He could feel his control waning the longer the rat went on. It nearly broke when Harry saw Pettigrew's silver hand flash dimly in the torchlight, yet another reminder of all the things he had suffered through because of this man.
"P-please Harry, don't kill me! Your mum and dad were my best friends and I never meant to hurt them-"
And Harry lost it. He shot to his feet, wand poised to lay curse after curse on the craven.
"You, I'll never forgive you for what you've done! I can forgive Tom because he was the enemy - he was trying to kill me from the start and it was expected. But you…" Harry jabbed his wand into the man's slick forehead, "You were their best friend, you little traitor…" Pettigrew was in tears by the end of his tirade, the fat that had never gone away quivering under Harry's glare.
"Peter, leave us." Harry started at the smooth voice, and Pettigrew took his distraction as a means to escape, quickly fleeing the room.
Harry sneered but decided to ignore him in favor of watching Tom levitate Ron's still form from the rug onto a nearby sofa. All the anger swept out of him from looking at his pale friend. Harry took it as a good thing Ron was no longer writhing in agony, but was motionless and unconscious.
"Will…will he be all right?" Tom pocketed his wand and sank into a cushioned chair, his body slumping in a way that told Harry just how exhausted he was.
"Before I can answer that, I need you to tell me what that was, Aspen."
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"There is little I can do about the hold the brain has on him. As I said, I was unable to destroy it. Magical bindings were almost impossible to create - the organism has too much of a hold on his center. As it was, the thing has been feeding on the boy so long that it's nearly impossible to contain. Any strain on the bindings could fracture them," Voldemort calmly explained.
Aspen's eyes widened as he stared down at his friend, who was already showing signs of waking. "What will set it off? Is there any way to kill it or put it down forever?" Voldemort sighed and placed a fist to his forehead, taking comfort in the cool metal of the promise ring. It did something to alleviate his burgeoning headache. As experienced in the ways of the world that Aspen was, he found the young man entirely too optimistic at times.
"Months of research would be required to destroy something that the Department of Mysteries created, and with Weasley's constant exposure to the other children, leaving him unattended would not be a wise idea if you're trying to avoid homicide," Voldemort hissed dryly, taking note of the boy's eyes fluttering open, "Weasley will need to be secluded from others to prevent strain on the protections I've placed." Voldemort raised a hairless brow as Aspen appeared to sink deep into thought. The young vampire had finally calmed down and was sitting on the sofa's edge next to his now conscious and alert friend.
Weasley's eyes darted around the room, noting the escape exits - then his eyes landed on Voldemort and he tensed. The Dark Lord gazed back expressionlessly. The boy wouldn't be worth his time if not for Aspen. The aforementioned person suddenly straightened and turned quickly, gazing down at his friend as his face lit up.
"H-Harry?" Weasley croaked.
"Don't worry, Ron. I think…I have a plan."
Voldemort stiffened as a chill of foreboding crept up his spine.
¤ Cue scene that I'm tired of trying to fit in somewhere:
Tonight was one of their few moments of peace…
Harry blinked where he was propped comfortably against Tom's arm on the couch.
"I just remembered something!"
The other looked up from Slytherin's journal, red eyes flickering over his lithe form. "What is it?"
"You owe me twenty galleons!"
This time it was Voldemort's turn to blink. Then he scowled. "Using your knowledge of the future to place a bet on Abraxas' death makes the bet invalid," he hissed. Aspen waggled a finger at him in a moment of immaturity.
"Ah, but you never set down terms for the bet. Besides, wouldn't you say it was a very…-Ssslytherin thing to do?- he smirked. Voldemort scowled and hissed something obscene back at him, but finally got up to summon the gold through the warded door.
When he returned with a small bag in hand, he was quite suddenly very distracted by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist, and lips on his neck as the smaller man pressed against him.
-C'mon, Tom, I'm rich enough to buy a mini-kingdom. What would I need more gold for?-
The bag was dropped and forgotten for quite a while.
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A/N: As things are, I consider the story about halfway through, with the best parts of the plot still to come. Also, I've had a large upspring of plot bunnies lately, so I think it's best I start to plan ahead unless I want them to plague and distract me. :D Please review and tell me which of these HP stories you'd like to read after UCG is done:
A Blank Soul [Une  me Blanche : Sequel to UCG. 400 years after taking over the world, Harry is thrown into Arda. Wandless and believing Tom to be dead, he struggles with his control and to get through a strange world filled with forces beyond his imagination. Slash. Lord of the Rings Xover.
Right Where It Belongs: Something peculiar happens when Harry steals a peek at Snape's Pensieve. He's pulled into Severus' memories, becoming barely more than a shadow himself. [Includes some themes from DH Eventual SSHP, and somehow sort of canon. Timetravel and ghostliness on Harry's part.
Please review!