Take the pill; Emilie Autumn
Take the pill that makes you weaker
Take the pill that makes you sick
Take the pill or you'll be sorry
Take this bloody pill and make it quick
Take the pill that makes you cry
Take the pill that burns your insides
Take the pill that makes you want to die
Just be careful what you say...
Today could be your day...
You no longer rule your body
You no longer own those rights
You will wake up when we say so
You will sleep when we shut out the lights
Enjoy your stay...
'Cause you can't run away...
Take the pill that keeps you quiet
Take the pill that keeps you blind
Take the pill that wipes your memory
Take the pill that's fucking with your mind
That's all you have to lose...
That's funny...
The first thing Harry noticed, waking up, was that his head throbbed with an intensity he'd never felt before.
The second were the weird little images that flashed about. A blackened man hissing at him, yelling, changing. Raising his wand to the sky and muttering a spell he'd never heard before.
He flinched against them, opening his eyes and pressing his palm to his forehead, hard.
The third thing he noticed was Mad Eye Moody, sitting in the guest chair and watching him intensely.
Harry jumped a little at the sight, holding his head harder when the movement jarred him.
There was something about Moody that he felt he should be remembering.
"Still not well, Mister Potter?" His tone was accusatory, and Harry felt the need to justify himself.
"Er, no, sir. Professor Dumbledore says I should be alright after my next potion," His voice trailed off when he said 'potion,' something about the word making him want to flee. He took a deep breath and meet the professors eye again, trying to hide the random and irrational fear.
"Not feeling to good about that idea, are you? Tell me, boy, any strange dreams? Odd feelings?" He looked knowing, as if he knew Harry would say yes.
There was something, niggling at him and resisting him all at the same time.
The hesitation was enough confirmation for Moody.
"That's because of the potion he's giving you. I don't know why he's forcing it on you, but he is. I suppose you feel retched after you take it?"
Harry nodded despite himself, a little bubble of hope rising in his chest, though he wasn't sure why. Why would Dumbledore give him something that would make him sick?
"He said it was a nourishment potion," Harry told Moody, confused.
"Ah, he did, did he? Do you feel malnourished at all? Before the potion?"
Harry bowed his head, frowning. The answer to that was no. absolutely no. In fact he had never felt better.
Odd seizure notwithstanding.
But it seemed as though, if he said that, he would be incriminating the headmaster for something he didn't yet understand.
There was something not quite right, he could feel that, could almost understand it. But his mind resisted and assisted all at once, making his memory stagnant and unmoving. Like a brick wall he could almost see through.
"I, I felt okay, I guess. But I had this seizure and-"
"I'm going to help you, boy. The next potion is going to be different from the last. It will still hurt, but you need to make it look as if it hurt a lot more than it's going to."
Harry blinked, not understanding the turn that the conversation had taken. Moody leaned in close, both eyes focused and intent.
"Dumbledore thinks this potion is for the best, but he is wrong. You have to make it look more painful. It's for your own good that he thinks he's been successful. Leave the rest to me," Mad Eye gave a lopsided grin and plucked several hairs from Harry's head, making him gasp and flinch back.
"Just leave the rest to me," He repeated, standing to leave the teen on his own.
As the day passed by, achingly slowly, Harry became increasingly nervous.
He didn't know what moody had planned, but it set his mind on edge, like he was doing something illegal.
When his headmaster entered the room, looking as carefree as ever, it made him a little less nervous. That meant that Moody probably hadn't been caught doing whatever it was that he was doing. He found himself hoping that Mad Eye had succeeded, because he didn't want to feel the pain he had felt last time ever again.
"Ah, my boy. How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, smiling.
"Er, okay. My head hurts a bit." He said, frowning at the headmaster and looking for any signs of guilt.
When he found none, he didn't know whether it was because he didn't feel guilty, or because he wasn't doing anything wrong.
"This is the last one. I promise you that you'll feel one hundred percent better, after this." He passed the teen the bottle, and he eyed it carefully. It looked the same as the last three, and for a moment Harry feared that Moody had been unsuccessful. He shoved the fear down and decided it didn't matter, anyway.
He had no choice, for one thing. For another, he still wasn't sure if Mad Eye was to be trusted. He just couldn't believe that Dumbledore would give something harmful, intentionally.
He watched the professor carefully as he uncorked the little grey bottle, putting it to his lips and closing his eyes.
One quick swig later, he realised that he knew the taste. It wasn't the potion he had been taking for the last three days.
It was Polyjuice.
Harry gagged, holding his throat and trying to put a little more theatrics into what was, admittedly, mild pain.
He'd never been a good actor, but he did his best.
He wasn't concerned about turning into someone else, remembering Moody's seemingly random act of yanking his hair out earlier.
He ended his performance by 'passing out' on his bed, making near silent Choking noises and clutching his head.
It seemed it was enough, because Dumbledore left him, and Harry didn't know whether or not he had done the right thing.
His false sleep became real sleep soon enough.
The Other already looked healthier, and where they were fused no longer burned.
Harry cursed under his breath, damning his stupid self. He'd almost been rid of this thing, now he didn't know what would happen to him, not to mention his friends.
"I can't say I'm not grateful, though I'm sure if you knew, you wouldn't have accepted Moody's help." The Creature said, his face mere millimetres from Harry's. Though he tried to pull away, it was a lost cause. They were almost one, now. Already.
The Boy Who Lived didn't say anything, his anger at himself was pungent.
"We'll be one," The Thing said reverently.
"Shut up," Harry hissed, though the anger wasn't for the Other, it was for himself. He'd turned away from the handsome thing, his eyes shut tight. He was biting his lip and wondering how long he had left. How long until he became a danger to those he loved.
"Harry," It whispered, but he didn't turn to face it.
"There's nothing wrong with becoming what you were meant to be. How can I make you see that you aren't whole? Can't you feel this?" The Other placed its hand on Harry's chest, where his dream heart was beating. It then grasped his hand and put it on it's own heart. Harry didn't move when the Creatures hand crept back to his chest. They stood in silence for a moment, the teen feeling both his own blood pumping, and the creatures, beating in perfect tandem.
"We were never meant to be apart. The bizarre circumstances that separated us were only ever temporary. You shouldn't be afraid of yourself. Who are you to judge you? You won't stop loving the ones you love. You will be no more a danger to them then you are now."
Harry wanted this to be true. Desperately. He cautiously glanced back at the Creature, who was looking at him with hope, his hand pressing harder into Harry's chest.
"But you're a part of Voldemort," He insisted, though it sounded weak to his ears.
"I'm mostly you, Harry. I'm only guilty of being abandoned by him, accidentally, in you."
"If you stop resisting me, this could be over so much quicker," The Other sensed Harry's indecision, and acted on it, pushing him into acceptance.
Harry stared into the Creatures eyes for a long moment, considering its words.
What choice did he have? His only other option had blown out with Moody's interference. The only way he could even remember this while awake was for it to be done.
Resisting seemed futile, pointless. What would he accomplish? Besides, the Other wasn't so bad now, now that they were balanced, in sync. He seemed normal, maybe even like someone he wouldn't mind being bound to.
"I-" Harry began, but the Creature interrupted him before he could finish by placing its hand tenderly on his cheek.
"Let me in," It whispered, caressing him gently and making Harry's eyes half close.
"What other choice do I have?" He whispered back, his heart skipping a beat. He felt the Other's do the same, his hand still placed on its chest.
"None. No other option." It's face was very close now, Harry could taste its breath. Like winter, logs burning and cold air.
Harry felt himself leaning into it, wanting to really taste it, to take this thing back into himself.
"No other choice," Harry whispered, and the Other pressed his lips to Harry's, tentatively, and the Teen groaned, pushing back. The Creature hissed in approval and slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, and he noticed that it did taste like winter.
"Okay," Harry mumbled, pressing his forehead against his Other's.
"Okay," He said again, louder, because now he wanted this with more fervour than he had ever wanted anything.
"We'll be one," The Other whispered, kissing Harry again.
The teen could feel them joining, their hearts becoming one, beating hard against his ribcage. Their minds joining, memories that weren't his were flashing fast past his eyes, colours and places and people melting into each other.
Before he had time to open his eyes, the Other was gone.
Harry remembered everything.
He had been the one to cast the Mosmorda at the sky that night at the Quiddich world cup.
Moody was working for the Dark Lord.
He had a piece of Voldemort in him.
Dumbledore lied with more ease than Harry had thought possible.
He was joined to a creature that was more dark than he had ever been, and it's tongue tasted like winter.
And that was all okay.
"Harry, you awake mate? Dumbledore says you can come back today, if you're feeling up to it," Ron was awfully excited, Harry decided as he opened his eyes.
Hermione stood just behind Ron, to the left. She watched Harry with concern.
"How are you feeling, Harry? Professor Dumbledore said that the last dose took a lot out of you," She asked, taking a step forward as if to place a hand on Harry's head.
"Fine, I'm fine. Brilliant, even." He answered, sitting up and smiling at them.
He realised now that his fears were unfounded.
He didn't feel dangerous or unstable.
He felt complete.
Finally.