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Chapter 12
Harry spent the rest of the holiday studying, though most of the time was spent on legitimate school subjects. He wanted to be sure that he could stay ahead in all of his classes, after all. When the holidays finished and school resumed, Harry felt confident that he knew all the material for the next three months, until Easter holidays. He was currently standing outside waiting for the carriages to arrive, bringing the other students back from the Hogsmeade train station. Presently, the carriages rose over the hill and entered the castle gates. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny alighted from the same carriage, and all three looked quite eager to see him. "Hey," he called out to them in greeting.
"Hi Harry! Thank you so much for the hat, gloves, and scarf, they're beautiful! How was your holiday?" Ginny asked. Harry noted that both she and Hermione were wearing his Christmas presents.
"Pretty good," Harry answered. "I got a lot of studying done."
"Good for you," said Hermione, beaming with approval. "Oh, Harry, Ginny and I need to go to the loo. Could you and Ron carry our bags up to the tower please? Thank you!" she said, and without waiting for a response, she and Ginny thrust their bags at himself and Ron and ran off into the castle, leaving the boys alone together. Harry inwardly groaned at the obvious set up, and decided to cut right to the chase.
"What's on your mind, Ron?" he asked bluntly.
Ron blushed, seeing that Harry had obviously not fallen for the ploy. "I need to apologize," he said. "Again."
Harry slung Hermione's bag over his shoulder while Ron did the same with Ginny's. They both began walking back into the castle. "What for?" Harry asked.
"I've been a real git to you lately, avoiding you just because you're…you know…" his voice trailed off.
"Gay?" Harry put in helpfully.
"Yeah, that. Look, we've spent Christmas together every year since we were eleven years old, and it just didn't really feel like Christmas without you there. The whole time it felt like there was something missing, and not just to me, but to Ginny, Fred and George, and my parents. You can say all you want that you stayed at Hogwarts because you wanted to study, and maybe it's true, but we both know that it was also because of how I've been acting around you, and I'm sorry." Ron looked down after saying this, nervous about Harry's reaction.
For a moment, Harry didn't really know what to say. Ron was his friend. A year ago he would have said without hesitation that Ron was his best friend. But the two had grown apart, and it was obvious to Harry, at least. Finally, he decided to just let it go. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Ready for Quidditch practice on Tuesday?"
Ron smiled and replied, obviously relieved that Harry wasn't going to make a big deal of the issue. The two boys continued chatting about their favourite sport all the way up to Gryffindor tower. There they met up with Hermione and Ginny, who both smiled smugly at the sight of Harry and Ron chatting amiably again. Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled, too, and the four Gryffindors went down to dinner together. Harry noticed that Ron still looked wistfully at Hermione, but he no longer tried to approach her.
That night after dinner, Harry was sitting in the common room studying another carefully concealed Dark Arts book from the Chamber library. Ron, he noticed, no longer saw his spell-disguised books as erotic magazines, which made him feel better, knowing that his friend really had come to terms with the revelation of Harry's sexuality. Suddenly, he remembered Tom's suggestion to find a way to get Professor McGonagall's book, and he had an idea. "Hermione," he said quietly, careful not to draw Ron's attention away from his conversation with Dean about the Chudley Cannons.
"Yes Harry?" she responded just as quietly, picking up on Harry's desire to keep the conversation private.
"I need a small favour," he said.
"What is it?" she asked, looking concerned.
"Well—I'd really like to follow in my father's and Sirius' footsteps…or rather, paw prints."
Hermione gasped.
"I thought about how useful it was for Sirius, and even for Rita Skeeter, and I realized that it could probably also get me out of a few scrapes. But if anyone knew about it, it wouldn't be much of an advantage anymore."
"That's a good point, Harry. So what do you need me to do?"
"The books in the school library are all in the Restricted Section. I can't get to them without at least one teacher finding out, and Madame Pince as well. Plus, someone might see me checking them out. Professor McGonagall wrote a book on the subject that's supposed to be really good, but bookstores have to report it to the Ministry whenever someone buys it."
"So you want me to order it for you?"
"Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind. Maybe you could order four or five other books on advanced Transfiguration subjects, too, so that it's less noticeable. I'll pay for all of it."
"Harry, you don't have to buy me any books," Hermione protested.
"But you're doing me a huge favour, and besides, even if they're books you want, you're still ordering them because of me. If it'll make you feel better, you can lend them to me after you finish reading them."
"Alright," Hermione said smiling.
"Great. Can you go get that catalogue I know you have, from Flourish and Blotts?"
They ordered the animagus book, and together picked out five others. Harry tried to choose books he thought Hermione would like, while Hermione tried to do the same for Harry, so the process ended up taking some time. When they were finally finished, Harry gave Hermione the money, and they sent a school owl off with the order. Hermione then went back to her homework, and Harry decided to do some studying of his own.
Although Harry had made quite a bit of progress with Dark spells, he had come to realize something. If he really wanted to help Tom, there were three specific spells that he needed to know. The Unforgiveables. Crucio, Imperio, and Avada Kedavra. By now, Harry had studied enough about Dark spells to know why his ill-conceived attempt at the torture curse had failed. As Bellatrix Lestrange had put it, "You have to mean them." There were lots of curses that could cause pain or kill. There were several potions that could control a person's mind, and spells that could control their body. The reason these three curses in particular were the Unforgiveables was not their effects. Or at least, not solely their effects. The main reason was because of the emotions needed for the spells. To cast the Imperius Curse, you had to have a desire to dominate; to utterly control another being. To use the Cruciatus Curse, you had to want to cause pain. You had to truly want your victim to suffer, and you had to sadistically enjoy it. And to cast the killing curse, you had to know what death truly meant. You had to understand what it was to end a person's life prematurely, all the other lives that would be torn apart, all the severed possibilities, and want to do it anyway. None of the three could be cast in innocence.
But he didn't consider himself an innocent anymore. He was not a child. He had seen battle, and he had seen death. He knew what it was to be lied to and manipulated. The illusions of his childhood had been shattered, and he knew that regardless of what side he was on, if he wanted to survive, he was going to have to get his hands dirty. Yes, he was going to have to start practicing the Unforgiveables.
Having decided to do it, he didn't really want to wait to begin. So he yawned convincingly, stretched, and told his friends he fancied a long bath in the prefect's bathroom. He went to his dormitory and gathered his bathing supplies for verisimilitude, waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron, and left the Gryffindor common room. Once away from prying eyes, he pictured the Chamber's main room in his mind and whispered "§enter.§"
Arriving in the Chamber, he put down his bath supplies in the library, then re-entered the main room. He estimated that he had about an hour, maybe an hour and a half, before somebody got worried and went looking for him. Salazar didn't seem to be in the Chamber at the moment, so he got right to work. Copying the ersatz Moody's example, he conjured a large spider and Immobilized it. He decided to begin with Crucio. He had attempted it before, after all, and he wanted to someday be able to show the Lestrange bitch just how well she had taught him. He gathered together all of his negative emotions, his pain, envy, sorrow, and most especially anger. He thought about all the times he had been hurt, and how badly he had wanted to take revenge. Finally, he pointed his wand at the spider and yelled "Crucio!"
The spider twitched a bit, and rolled over, but nothing more. He tried again, putting more anger into the spell. That time, the twitching lasted a little longer. He continued to make attempts, but while he got a little closer each time, the spell still did not have the desired effect. "What am I doing wrong?" he muttered to himself. "I'm angry. I want to hurt something. I mean it. Why isn't the spell working?"
"Perhaps because some part of you still expects it to fail," Salazar's voice came from seemingly nowhere.
Harry turned around to find Salazar standing right behind him. "What do you mean by that?" Harry snapped, still filled with anger.
"You have spent all of your life as a wizard being held up as an icon of the Light. People have expected you, and you have expected yourself, to be a noble, self-sacrificing hero, who would never even consider using a Dark spell, regardless of what situation he found himself in. While you've begun to break out of that role, it's still a part of you, telling you that you're not the kind of person who can use a torture curse."
"But I've tried it before, on a person, even. Wouldn't that mean I know that I am the type of person who can use a torture curse?"
"Was the spell successful?" Salazar asked pointedly.
"Well—no," Harry admitted.
"So that simply adds to your subconscious belief that you cannot do it."
"Then what do you suggest I do?" Harry said icily.
"You're angry. That's good. You know that you must feel anger and hatred to cast the spell. I think you simply need a bit more confidence. Try imagining the effects of the spell. Think of someone you hate. Picture them suffering the effects of the spell. Imagine looking down the end of your wand and seeing them writhe in agony. Think of how powerful it makes you feel, of how much you enjoy it."
Harry did as the spirit suggested. He pictured Dudley, cruelly mocking Harry the way he had when they were children. He thought of how he would've liked to hurt the immensely large boy back. He pictured himself drawing his wand and pointing it right at Dudley's ugly face. Just as Dudley's fist began to pull back for a punch, Harry yelled "Crucio!" In his rather vivid fantasy, Dudley's eyes grew wider as he saw the dull-red spell coming toward him, and he crumpled to the ground when the spell hit him. He screamed and moaned, twitching on the floor. Harry felt gleeful satisfaction at the image. It was just like the fantasies he used to have as a child—except that now he had the power to make it come true. He smiled, understanding what Salazar had meant. He pointed his wand at the spider again. Keeping his mind on the feeling he got from picturing Dudley under the curse, he said again, "Crucio."
Now the spider writhed and twitched, its legs all crumpling underneath it. It continued its contortions until Harry moved his wand, releasing the spell. While his previous attempts had made him tired, this time it left him feeling breathless and exhilarated.
He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Very good, lion cub," Salazar said. "With time and practice, you will find that the necessary emotions come to you more easily, and you will not need so much focus and concentration. Do it again, several more times, to help yourself become accustomed to the feeling."
Harry complied, casting the curse ten more times. Two times, the curse did not have a full effect, but it was still strong, and so Harry did not lose confidence. Then he noticed that he didn't have much time left before his friends would expect him back.
"Salazar?" he began. "Is there a bathroom down here?"
"What?" Salazar answered, seeming startled by the question.
"A bathroom. I told my friends that I was going to take a bath so that I could get away for a while. So it wouldn't work out very well if I came back completely dry and still dirty."
"It seems you did not think this plan through all the way," Salazar replied, sounding amused.
"I suppose not," Harry said. "Now is there a bathroom or not?"
"Not. I designed this Chamber as a home for the basilisk" he paused to glare at Harry for a moment, "and a safe repository of knowledge that many Light wizards would like to see destroyed."
"I am sorry about your basilisk," Harry said. "But she was trying to kill me at the time."
"Why didn't you just tell her to stop it?"
"Tom told me that it wouldn't work."
"And you took his word for it?" Salazar asked incredulously. "You didn't even try to speak to her?"
"You're saying that she would have listened?" Harry asked, just as incredulous.
Salazar sighed. "Harry, you should know by now that no serpent would ever intentionally harm a Parselmouth. Had you said so much as 'hello' to her, she would have immediately ceased attacking you."
"Oops."
Salazar snorted. "Oops, he says. As if that makes everything okay. Well, I suppose I can forgive you for being a scared child and acting without thinking. But I expect you to bring me a replacement someday."
"Use the Imperius curse to make a toad sit on a chicken's egg. Got it. Hagrid, the groundskeeper, has a chicken coop that I can get into pretty easily, and my roommate Neville loses his toad all the time. I can 'borrow' it for a while without him ever noticing. Erm—does the toad have to sit on the egg for all twenty-one days, or only when the egg actually hatches?"
"I am not certain. I believe it would be sufficient to have the toad over the egg for twenty-four hours, although if that does not work, you can use the chick for practicing your curses and try again."
Harry chuckled a bit. "That's true. And I will attempt it soon. But for now, I need to get going, and that means I need to make it look like I took a bath."
Salazar smiled. "I'll leave you to it, then. And Harry? Be careful. If anyone sees you with a chicken egg and a toad, it wouldn't take Dumbledore to put two and two together. Don't let yourself be seen. If you find that you cannot do it now without arousing suspicion, simply wait." With those words, the spirit vanished, and Harry was alone in the Chamber.
Well, if there wasn't a bathroom in the Chamber, Harry would just have to make one. First, he conjured a large tub. Then he used the Aguamenti spell to fill the tub. Another quick spell made the water comfortably hot. He'd brought shampoo, soap, and a towel with him. Feeling slightly awkward, Harry stripped out of his clothes and got into his self-made bathtub. He cleaned himself quickly, knowing that he didn't have much time left. He'd already been gone for over an hour. Finishing his bath, he got dressed again and banished his conjurations. He put on the Invisibility Cloak that he now always carried with him. That was one good piece of advice from Dumbledore, anyway. Picturing the seventh floor room that he usually used when coming back from the Chamber, he whispered "§exit.§"
As he stepped through the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room, he saw Hermione working on homework while Ron sat a respectful distance away, playing Exploding Snap with Seamus. "Harry!" Hermione called. "We were just starting to wonder what was taking you so long."
"Oh, sorry," Harry said cheerfully. "I had to wait for a little while—someone else was in there when I got there."
"Hey Harry," Ron called. Do you wanna play with us?" he asked, motioning to the deck of cards.
"Sure," Harry said, and he sat down with Ron and Seamus.
Several rounds later, Harry found himself with singed eyebrows, waving off offers for another game. "I think I'm going to go to bed now," he said. "Goodnight guys. Goodnight Hermione."
"Goodnight Harry," Hermione responded absently, chewing on the end of her quill, obviously deep in thought. For a moment, Harry wondered if she was bothered by Harry's new academic success. For five years at Hogwarts, he'd been dependent on her for information. She'd definitely been the 'brains of the outfit,' so to speak. Now Harry, at least, no longer needed her help. But if she was jealous or put off by it, she wasn't acting on those feelings. Harry didn't think she was. When they worked together in class, she always just seemed genuinely proud of him. She really was a great friend.
That night after going to sleep, he found himself unexpectedly in Tom's presence again.
"Good evening," he greeted.
"Good evening," Tom replied, smiling. "How are you this evening?"
"Pretty good," Harry responded automatically. "Is there any special reason you wanted to see me?"
"Why Harry," Tom said, pouting. "Can't I see you just because I want to spend time with you?"
"You could," Harry replied cheekily, "but you're a Slytherin, so I doubt you would."
"You wound me," Tom countered, his already extended bottom lip jutting out even further.
Harry had an immediate desire to put that bottom lip in between his own lips and kiss away the pout. He ignored it, but he couldn't help staring for a moment. "Sure I do. Well, then, should we play Exploding Snap? Or discuss England's chances for the Quidditch Cup this year?"
Tom laughed. "All right, I did have a reason for bringing you here tonight. In my defence, however, it was for your benefit."
"My benefit? What do you mean?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow in a gesture that unconsciously mimicked Tom.
"I wanted to ask if you had made any further progress in your Animagus transformation."
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, Tom. I did ask Hermione to order that book you mentioned for me tonight, but other than that, I haven't really gotten any farther. I can get into a trance well enough, but I just can't seem to find my animal form. Maybe I just don't have one."
"Of course you do, Harry. All wizards and witches of a certain power level have one. Tell me, have you seen or felt anything in your trance?"
"Once or twice, I felt like there was something approaching me, but it vanished before I could get any closer."
"I see. That may be your problem. In your trance, you must allow the animal to come to you. Much like a wand, the animagus form chooses the wizard."
"I know," Harry sighed. It's just that in the trance, I get excited, and I want to run out and meet the animal, and I can't stop myself."
"Aha. That would be it, then. You're not completely letting go of control." He paused a moment. "I think I can assist you."
"How?" Harry asked, just a little bit suspicious. He cared for and trusted Tom, but for most of his life, he had lacked control, and so he remained hesitant to relinquish what control he did have to another person.
Tom didn't respond immediately, instead he stood up, drew his wand, and Transfigured his arm chair into a love seat. "Come sit here by me, Harry," he said gently.
Harry was conflicted. On the one hand, he was thrilled to be so close to Tom. On the other, he was a little bit hesitant about what Tom might want to do. He stood up and brought himself slowly over to Tom's side, sitting down somewhat gingerly.
"Relax, Harry," Tom said, taking the seat next to Harry on the armchair-turned-loveseat. "I'm just going to help you get into a trance deep enough to find your form. Or rather, for your form to find you. I won't take advantage of you, and I'll bring you out as soon as we're done, alright?"
"Alright," Harry agreed, relaxing into the sofa.
"Excellent, my little serpent. Let's begin." Tom started speaking in his most soothing voice, a voice that could (and had) assuaged wrathful Professors, jealous admirers, and angry animals alike. Harry did not escape its soothing charm. Tom continued talking, and he gently stroked Harry's arm, feeling the toned muscles just underneath the skin. As Tom continued his ministrations, Harry fell further and further into his trance. Finally, sensing that Harry was fully entranced, Tom ceased talking. He did, however, continue stroking Harry's arm. Just to make sure Potter didn't lose the trance because of the loss of the sensation, of course. He waited about ten minutes, never ceasing his touching of Harry's arm. At the end of ten minutes, he felt a surge of elation coming through their link, and he knew that Harry had been successful. A moment later, Harry's eyes opened up.
"Well?" he said expectantly.
Harry blinked. "I'm not sure if this is right, or even possible," he said.
"Why? What did you see?" Tom asked, quite confused.
"Well—a panther."
Now it was Tom's turn to blink in surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked dumbly.
"Of course I'm sure!" Harry said indignantly. "But maybe I wasn't really in a trance. Maybe it just came into my mind because I was thinking of you, and it's not really my animal after all."
"No, when you are this close to me, in mind at least, I can sense your general state of mind. You were certainly in a trance."
"But how is that possible, for us to have the same animal? I thought that almost never happened," Harry said, still uncertain.
"I suppose it could be because of our link, but that is unlikely. Your personality and magic are still yours, and that is what determines ones totem animal."
"But a panther suits you! It doesn't really suit me at all."
Tom smirked, suddenly finding humour in the situation. "I believe I have told you before that the similarities between us are rather striking. Whatever Dumbledore might have told you to the contrary, you are like me, Harry."
"I am, I know. But the same animal? Really, Tom? It's just not anything I would have expected."
"Expected or not, I believe it is the correct animal for you, as well."
"How so?" Harry asked.
"To begin with the superficial characteristic that you pointed out whilst discussing me, you also have dark hair, like a panther's fur. To delve more deeply, you do not care for the spotlight, and would prefer to remain unseen in the shadows. When you feel there is need, you will attack fiercely and without hesitation, but without using any more force than is necessary to overcome your foes. You are solitary and territorial. You do not appreciate others invading your space, and while you can and do welcome the presence of others, you also need a good deal of time by yourself. Finally, while you are somewhat awkward and clumsy now, that is normal for a young man, or a panther cub. I myself was somewhat prone to awkwardness at your age. It was a weakness that I overcame as I grew older, and spending time as a panther certainly helped. I believe the same will hold true for you, and you will grow into a natural grace and poise."
Harry didn't really know how to respond to that, and before he could think of something to say, Tom moved the conversation along. "Do you know why it usually takes a person so long to become an animagus, Harry?" he asked.
The book he'd read had taught Harry at least that much. "First, you have to research the animal very thoroughly. You have to know and understand every part of its anatomy. Then, you begin transforming small parts of your body individually. This helps you become used to the sensation of your body changing, builds your power, and gives you a chance to make sure you've got every part of the anatomy right. Meditation and research alone take most wizards and witches more than a year. Then practicing small parts of the Transformation and working up to the full change can take two to three years, depending on how powerful the witch or wizard in question is."
"So our unique situation will allow you to take a shortcut. The next time we are together in the physical world, I can simply enter your body and Transform. Then you will know the anatomy instinctually, and you will understand the sensation of Transforming. Your power is already sufficient; you have no need to build it up by practicing small steps. This would not be possible were we not the same animal and linked as we are." Tom sounded genuinely excited, and he realized that he actually felt excited as well. Well, he justified to himself, it was a fascinating magical situation, and Harry's panther form could prove quite useful.
But Harry frowned. "You're talking about possessing me."
"In a manner of speaking."
"The last time you did that it wasn't very pleasant for either of us."
"The last time I did that, something about our link changed. Your scar, for example, no longer hurts in my presence. Nor do you feel my emotions unless either I wish for you to, or we are close to each other and the emotion is especially strong. Most importantly, we no longer bear ill will for each other. I do not believe this will cause either of us any discomfort, but if it does, I shall withdraw immediately."
"You're still asking me to give you complete control over my body. I trust you, Tom, but it is a lot to ask."
"I'm doing this to help you, you know," Tom said icily, starting to lose patience. "If you would rather spend at least a year in tedious study time that you could otherwise use to study other powerful magics, suit yourself. It doesn't concern me."
Actually, it did concern him. The idea was fascinating, and Tom would hate to lose the opportunity to attempt such an interesting magical experiment. He would also prefer being able to continue training his little serpent in Dark magic. He simply knew that feigning apathy would help to persuade Harry that he had no ill intentions. And he didn't, at least, not right now. Harry responded just as Tom expected.
"Sorry, Tom, of course I want you to help me. And I appreciate your help."
"Of course, it will have to wait for a while. I cannot come to Hogwarts while school is back in session, especially not while Dumbledore is present. Nor can you vanish from school without causing more problems than the situation warrants."
"Maybe I could come to you during the Easter holidays. I decided to spend them at my friend Hermione's house, but there are two weeks. I could spend one week with her and one with you, and she won't ask too many questions, or tell anyone, if I tell her not to."
"You are not planning to confide your destination in your friend, I hope?" Tom asked. When Harry shook his head no, he continued. "Then it is an excellent idea." He paused for a moment, deciding whether or not to push Harry a little further. He decided to chance it. "Since we will have a week together, perhaps you might consent to spend some of that time assisting me with certain small tasks."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. Was Tom asking what Harry thought he was asking? "You mean—you want me to go out on missions for you—like a Death Eater?"
Tom decided he had pushed too far, and was about to capitulate when Harry continued. "Do you really think I'm ready for that?" he asked.
"I would not risk you on a task that I did not believe you could handle, nor would I leave you unsupported. I would like your aid in achieving my goals, but I will not chance losing you." That was true. Harry was much too valuable a tool to be carelessly lost.
"Tom, what exactly are your goals? All I've ever heard from people on the Light side is that you want to kill all muggleborns and half-bloods. But that can't really be all there is to it, and besides, you said something before about Slytherin's prejudice not being what I thought it was. What did you mean?"
Tom smiled. This would likely be the answer that would swing Harry's loyalty entirely. "When Salazar talked about 'pure-blooded' wizards, he did not mean it literally. He was using a figure of speech."
"What?" Harry said, now very confused. "What did he mean, then?"
"Simply that if one was a witch or a wizard, one should live as a witch or wizard, completely repudiating the muggle world. He believed that the two worlds should remain entirely separate, and that no magic person should live with muggles. He thought there should be no contact between peoples, and despised those who tried to live in both worlds. He did not, for example, condone marriages between a magic person and a muggle, but he would not hold the parentage of children born from such a union against them. Nor did he despise muggleborns, he simply believed that they should be adopted by wizarding parents as soon as they were known to have magical powers. Children with magic can never be understood by parents who do not have it, and the child and parents can grow to become dangers to each other. The child because its powers can unintentionally harm those around them who have no ability to defend themselves, and the parents because they may punish the child for things the child has no control over. Any siblings of a magical child born into a muggle family may become jealous and resentful of their gifted brother or sister, a situation I'm certain you are familiar with. Then, when the child is finally told that it has magic, at the age of eleven, it is forced to adjust to an entirely different world, a world that the child often finds strange and disconcerting."
"So it's your goal to completely separate the two worlds? That doesn't seem so bad."
"There are some who insist that understanding between the two cultures can happen, however, most would dispute my methods more than my goals. I will not hesitate to use whatever force is necessary, and that has led many to label me as a 'Dark' lord."
"But you're trying to make sure no more children have to grow up the way we did! Isn't that worth it?"
"Some would disagree. In the interest of fairness and full disclosure, I am not motivated purely, or even mostly by altruism. Most, if not all of my followers believe in pure-blood supremacy as it appears on the surface, and I do not hesitate to take advantage of their sentiments in order to gain power. I wish to be the ruler of the wizarding world."
"And I wish to help you," Harry affirmed.
Tom inwardly laughed triumphantly. With Harry's help, the world was as good as his. "That pleases me, my little serpent," Tom said with a sly smile. "I know that you will be useful to me."
Harry blushed and looked down, but inwardly he was vowing to continue his practice of the Unforgiveables, so that Tom would not have to teach him. He knew it would make Tom proud. "Are you going to give me the Mark?" Harry asked quietly. He didn't really want to be Marked, but he would if Tom insisted.
Tom considered it for a moment. When he had first begun enacting this plan, he had been planning to Mark Harry. But he had since realized that it would be a monumentally foolish thing to do. "No," he said. "Not because I do not think you deserve it, but because I do not believe it is required in our situation. If Dumbledore were to see it, or most anyone else at that school, your true loyalty would be known, and I would lose you. It is too dangerous."
"That makes sense," Harry said.
"There is one other small thing that you could do for me right now," Tom declared, wanting to push his advantage.
"What's that?"
"Tell me the prophecy."
Harry's body tensed. He had declared himself for Tom's side, and he belonged to Tom, even more than those with the Dark Mark branded on their arm. But if Tom knew the entire thing, he might decide to hate Harry again, and Harry didn't think he could stand it if Tom hated him. "Do you believe that prophecies are unalterable, and that they always come true?" Harry asked instead.
"They do not always come to pass in exactly the way one expects them to, but yes, all genuine prophecies do come true."
"Wouldn't that mean that we have no say in our own destiny? That's not something I would expect you of all people to believe. What if I just decided to move to Aruba tomorrow? Or joined the muggle Volunteer Service Overseas organization and spent the rest of my life in some tiny village in Africa? Or took the sword of Gryffindor and stabbed it into my own chest? We would never see each other again, and then what happens to the so-called unavoidability of fate?" Harry asked, his voice gaining volume as he spoke.
"I cannot say, as I do not know the entire prophecy," Tom replied calmly.
"How much do you know, exactly?"
"I know that it foretold the birth of a child with the power to vanquish me—a child who would be born to parents who had defied me three times, and who would be born on the last day of July."
"So you decided to act—and in doing so, you put the whole thing into motion. If you had just left me alone, none of this would have happened."
That made Tom slightly irritated. "How can you be so certain?"
Harry sighed. "Because of what the rest of the prophecy says."
"If you would have me believe that it may be disregarded, you must tell me it in its entirety."
"If I do, will you promise to at least think about it before you do anything?" Harry pleaded.
"Acting rashly after hearing the first part of the prophecy did not serve me well. I will not act so rashly again."
"All right then…here it goes: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...' You see, if you had just left me alone, I never would have been marked as your equal, and then…" Harry's voice trailed off, seeing the angry look on Tom's face.
"Tom?" Harry whispered.
"Leave," Tom commanded, his voice trembling. "Leave now."
Harry's heart fell at these words, but his self-preservation instinct ensured that he did as Tom said. As he prepared to bring his mind back to sleep, he whispered "It doesn't have to be true." Then his presence left the room.