***Important Author Note: ***
For a heads up, Slughorn is NOT going to be in this. Yes it's going to go into Harry's sixth year, but I don't feel like dealing Horcrux stuff. I might, might, put them in the story if it goes with the plot. So basically Snape is still teaching Potions, and I'm not sure who's going to be Defense but there's a chance it will be Lupin.
So yeah, a bit of a short chapter for me; but since I left it on a cliff hanger in the prologue I wanted to get this out.
Side note – NEW BIO!!! Yay for me, ne? Check it, hopefully it'll be interesting.
Also, for another heads up for those who read The Darkness of Light, I'm about a third of the way through the rough draft. So it should be up in a bit.
Chapter One
Shit. Shit. Shit! Okay stop! I need to think of something other than 'shit.' There, complete sentences. Complete sentences are important. Harry rambled in his head as he stood frozen and looking at his sworn enemy. After a few moments of mental silence and shock, the reality of the situation settled in, and thus, Harry came to another, more brilliant thought. Oh. Fuck.
"Get a hold of yourself Potter. It's just an unconscious, horribly wounded Dark Lord about a foot or two away from you. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to freak out about. I mean it's not like this same Dark Lord killed your parents and has been trying to constantly kill you all your life. Nothing to worry about at all." The young wizard muttered to himself somewhat hysterically, debating whether or not he was hallucinating. Didn't think my uncle slapped me so hard that I've started seeing things… "…which means this is most likely real and Voldemort is in front of me, unconscious and most likely gravely injured…"
Looking again at the near dead wizard Harry's eyes widened. "Fuck!" He practically yelled. "Why does he have to be gravely injured?!" Harry hissed out in annoyance. Unfortunately for everyone's favorite boy hero, he had decided some months ago to change his goal to being an Auror to becoming a Healer. Why? Why? Why?! Why couldn't he be somewhat injured and fully capable of living out the night on his own? Why does he have to be so horribly injured?! Argh! If he really wanted to become a Healer on principal than he couldn't leave anyone injured to die…even his enemies. Or at least that's what Poppy says…
Of course this is Voldemort we're speaking of…does he still count? Harry contemplated miserably. He ruined my life… Looking away from the Dark Lord, Harry attempted to take a step away only to hitch his breath in an almost painful intake. What the hell was that? Was it my conscience? Why does my body practically scream at me not to leave him?!
"Damn, my subconscious must be telling me something…I really can't leave anyone to die…not even Tom Riddle." The Savior of the Wizarding Word sighed heavily and silently edged over to the Dark Lord. Hesitating, he debated what to do. With a brief insane thought, Harry poked the notorious Dark Lord and skittered back in case of retaliation.
"Okay…no reaction what-so-ever. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing…What the hell was I thinking?" Harry asked himself in disbelief. I know what I was thinking, I was thinking that I'd poke Voldemort, he'd wake up and try to kill me. Then I'd flee and hide, he'd go away, and I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore. Yeah…that's real sane Harry. Unbelievable. He once again hesitated and then decided to grab Voldemort's shoulder and Apparated outside of number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Well, here we are…" Harry mumbled as he slightly lifted and supported his sworn enemy in order to get them both up the steps and in a position to where the wards would be able to detect Voldemort's magical signature. After mentally keying the Dark wizard into the wards temporarily, Harry Apparated them inside the house and to the Master bedroom; though he was slightly surprised that the half-dead man never even made a move or noise.
No way am I giving him his own room, and since I've stayed in this bedroom before, I'm quite familiar with my surroundings; which is a good thing when treating a dangerous wild animal…or in this case, a Dark Lord.
"This is going to be interesting…" Harry stated almost helplessly as he looked up to the ceiling and debated where his sanity had gone. "Right. First things first, find his wand."
After shoving the older wizard on the bed, Harry hesitantly looked at the injured man's robes. "I can't believe I'm going to do this." Harry uttered in disbelief at what he had gotten himself into. "Here it goes," he said taking a deep breath and begged, "please don't wake up and kill me."
The young wizard slowly leaned over his unconscious companion and began looking through the Dark Lord's robes. Ten minutes later, he had commandeered six daggers, some glowing orb thing and quite a few potions that Harry really didn't want to know what they were used for. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't found Voldemort's wand yet.
"I know being a Dark Lord is probably hazardous to one's life, with the whole taking over the world and enslaving people thing; people are sure to get mad, but this is getting ridiculous!" The Gryffindor growled out in exasperation and annoyance as he found yet another dagger. "Geez. How does he even move without stabbing himself?"
After another five minutes of looking, Harry stood up in frustration. Gritting his teeth, he looked at his collection he had amassed from sifting through Voldemort's clothing. "That's it! I can't find it anywhere!" He growled out and then sighed. "He must not have it on him. Though, that's a slightly disturbing thought. I'm not entirely sure what it means for the rest of the world if there's someone out there that can not only disarm Voldemort but also gravely injure him as well…"
On the bright side, at least I've disposed him of his concealed armaments. Snorting at that thought, Harry decided that it was pretty much a good analogy as he looked over the weapons he had taken off the wizard's person. But I know he can still do wandless magic. Since it didn't look like there was a fight in the park, he probably used it to get to Surrey. But why Surrey?
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry cast a charm to alert him if Voldemort started to show signs of waking and headed downstairs to get supplies. "I'll have to thank Poppy for teaching me that charm; she's a well of information."
After rounding up a large bowl, cloth, bandages and disinfectant, Harry returned upstairs, relieved that his enemy was still oblivious to the world. Filling up the large bowl with hot water, he walked over and set it with the other supplies he had collected and put on the small table next to the bed. "Right, next step. Cleaning the wounds."
Harry paused suddenly. …which means taking off his clothes… He looked apprehensively at the Dark Lord. Oh boy.
Praying to a higher power that Voldemort would not wake up and kill him, Harry slowly started removing the Dark Lord's outer robes. I really hope that he's only injured from the waist up…
"Albus." Kingsley drew the old wizard's attention as the Auror roused into the Headmaster's office.
"Hmm?" Professor Dumbledore hummed for the Auror to go on.
"Albus, as you know I was scheduled to watch Mr. Potter and his place of residence."
"Yes, you said there was a magical disturbance in the area, did you find anything?" The elderly professor asked curiously.
"No, it was too scattered. However, that's not the only thing that happened tonight."
"Oh?" Dumbledore question and drew serious.
"It seems that the Dursleys have kicked Mr. Potter out of the house. When I noticed the boy gone, I confronted them. By the time I had gotten all the information, Mr. Potter hand been gone for over three hours."
"That is most troubling, but I'm sure Harry decided to go to Grimmauld Place. I'll check to make sure everything is alright though. Thank you Kingsley, why don't you go home and get some rest?"
"I'm sure you're right Albus. The kid has common sense most of the time. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Kingsley."
Wiping his forehead with his arm, Harry tried to get his unmanageable hair out of his eyes. Maybe I should just get it cut… He had been successful in removing Voldemort's clothes, much to his embarrassment; he had to remove the Dark Lord's pants as well. To his surprise and relief, he had found the muggle-hating wizard to be wearing muggle boxers from America. Unfortunately he was far too embarrassed that he was seeing his sworn enemy practically naked to appreciate the ironic humor.
As Harry continued cleaning the wounds, he was once again reminded just how very band they were. Voldemort had large slices all over his body that were quite deep. What disturbed Harry was that the slices had a pattern to them. There were sets of four wherever the slashes were and they looked like claw marks to the young wizard. Harry had also found a gaping hole in the Dark Lord's stomach, which he really didn't want to speculate on what was shoved through the wizard's body. Everything else he had found was superficial; however Harry was slightly concerned about the head wound the Dark wizard was sporting, though if one were to ask he would emphasize the slightly.
As the Gryffindor started bandaging the half dead man before him, Harry started thinking back on when he had told his friends his new career choice.
"You want to do what, mate?" Ron asked in confusion at his fellow Gryffindor and friend.
"Become a Healer." Harry stated patiently.
"But why? I thought you wanted to become an Auror? Auror's are so much cooler than Healers!"
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "If Harry wants to become a Healer than we should support him. I think it's a wonderful idea Harry."
"Sorry, mate."
"That's alright Ron." Harry said with a small smile, knowing full well what his redheaded friend was like. "And thank you Hermione."
The female Gryffindor smiled at her friends, though not to say that she wasn't perplexed by her friend's new career choice. "Harry, why do you want to become a Healer?"
"I've thought it over, and by the time I graduate I think that I would have had enough of fighting Dark wizards. So I decided to think about other options."
"I guess I get it…" Ron commented a little unsure.
"Well after some soul searching, I guess you could say. I kind of came to like the idea of healing. I would still be helping people, just in a different way than being an Auror." The Boy-Who-Lived explained.
"Huh. It could be fun I guess, just think if you were like Madame Pomfrey and got to order everyone around." Ron suggested with glee.
"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "Harry won't be ordering anyone around unless it's necessary. Right Harry?"
"Mhmm." Harry hummed in agreement. Probably. He mentally snickered.
"Good; but you know Harry that Potions and Herbology are going to be important." The witch commented with the voice of reason.
"I know. I've already talked to Professor McGonagall to see if it was even do-able. We had a pretty long conversation but I mostly have a go ahead." The young wizard explained enthusiastically.
"Mostly?" Hermione asked in concern.
"Well…I have to bring my grades up in Herbology, but I've already asked Neville for help with that, and I'll have to use all my free time in the day to train with Madame Pomfrey."
"There's something else, isn't there?" Hermione asked knowingly.
"I'm…going to have to beg Snape to let me in his class this coming year…"
"What?!" Ron yelled outraged. "You don't have to do that Harry, we can come up with some other job you want to do. There's no reason to drag that slimy bastard into it."
"Ronald!"
"What? Come one Hermione, Snape will never let Harry into his class!"
"Hence the begging." Harry cut in dryly.
"But-!"
"No Ron, I think Harry really wants this. We should be supportive."
"But Snape!"
"Ron!" Hermione stressed the redhead's name sternly.
"If this is what you really want to do mate…"
"It is." Harry stated calmly and determined.
"I'm glad you're so determined at something that doesn't have to do with Voldemort, Harry."
"You know something Hermione, so am I."
Snorting, Harry looked down at his new patient. Yeah, that worked out so well. Why does it seem like no matter what it always comes back to Him?
As he continued to bandage his sworn enemy, Harry couldn't help but wonder once again why he was helping Voldemort. I must be out of my mind. Maybe the Prophet was right, I've gone crazy.
After some time and more inner debating on his sanity, the Gryffindor had finally finished bandaging the now almost mummified looking man. Why the hell am I so compelled to save him? I'm worrying over his health and whether or not he's going to survive the night. Why? Groaning in frustration, the young wizard decided to contemplate it in the morning. Casting a Tempus charm, he decided to rephrase that last thought. Later in the day would be more accurate.
Casting another alarm charm on Voldemort, Harry decided to clean up his supplies and then wash up. Taking a hesitant look at the Dark Lord and sighing deeply, Harry started to organize the remaining medical supplies scattered around the room.
~Dream Sequence~
"Riddle!" A shrill voice hollered out of the darkness. A thin woman walked into the room that was slowly materializing, glaring at the young boy cowering against the wall. "What have you done boy?!"
"I didn't-!" The four year old started only to get cut off with a slap.
"Don't lie boy! I know it was you that made all the food move!" The stern and enraged woman yelled. "You think I don't know that freakish stuff happens around you!?"
"But I didn't-!" The young child tried again to explain only to get dragged off the ground by his collar.
"I said don't lie boy!" She screeched in rage, dragging the little kid out of the room. "We found were the food went, do you know where?" She asked in cold fury.
"Nn-o?" The young boy whimpered out as he tried to keep up with the woman dragging him only to stumble and get pulled even harsher.
"Outside your room!" The woman bellowed and she threw the child into cellar. "Take the next three days to consider your sins boy. You won't be getting out of here until then and you won't be getting any food either!" She snarled as she slammed the door closed, shrouding the scene in darkness.
Shooting straight up, Harry tried to calm his breathing. What the hell was that?! A dream? Was it one of His memories…? Looking over to the Dark wizard, Harry couldn't find any evidence that Voldemort even was dreaming or if he was connecting to Voldemort's mind. Still…people just don't dream things like that. If that really did happen to him…No. I can't –No. Forget it Harry, you're not going down that road. Just go back to sleep. Taking one last look at the Dark Lord, Harry curled back into his sleeping position and closed his eyes, his last thought centering on the fact that Riddle never cried in the dream.
After another few hours of sleep, Harry started to give up getting a good night's rest. He eventually concluded as he started to stand up, that he wasn't going to get any more sleep with Voldemort only a few feet away from him. Even if he is still unconscious. The Gryffindor got out of the torturous device known to many as an armchair, and stretched in order to relieve some of his discomfort.
Walking over to the bed, Harry debated if he was relieved or upset that the Dark wizard was still breathing; checking the bandaged man's vitals as best as he could, Harry noticed that Voldemort's pulse was better than the night's before but was still very weak. He needs some blood replenishing potions…
Harry sighed and knew this was the time that he had to make a decision that could quite possibly change his life, one way or another. He wasn't foolish enough not to know that if he continued to save Voldemort's life that things would change, that is…if he wasn't killed later on. You just don't help the leader of the Dark without consequences. So it comes down to my principals as being a Healer, the seemingly inability to leave my sworn enemy to die, and the fact that said sworn enemy killed my parents and ruined most of my life…So why can I not leave him for dead?! Harry practically screamed in his mind. What the hell is wrong with me?!
Collecting himself, Harry recalled something that Poppy had said once. 'Once you take on a patient, that patient is your responsibility. No matter what, you must always see it through.' I guess…that's my answer. Something wanted me to help him last night, be it my conscience, Fate, or something else entirely. But I did help him, which means I have to see it through, no matter what.
Looking at the Dark wizard on the bed, Harry began to feel the stirrings of determination. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right.
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