You are the hole in my head
You are the space in my bed
You are the silence in between what I thought
And what I said
You are the night time fear,
You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you'll start,
You're my head,
You're my heart.
No light no light in your bright blue eyes,
I never knew daylight could be so violent.
A revelation in the light of day,
You can't choose what stays and what fades away.
No Light No Light; Florence and the Machine.
It took a little while for everything to slide into place in his head. He and his Other had vastly different views, vastly different knowledge.
Harry knew now that he was a Horcrux, for instance, and that some of Tom Riddles old memories lived in his head.
Though they were shattered and sharp, hard to look at without being sliced.
Harry also remembered what had happened to him while he had been unconscious, during the time he had been held captive.
His Other and the Dark Lord had spoken civilly, trading ideas and discussing the safest manner of removing a Horcrux, without destroying it. It was the Other who offered to combine with Harry.
"My Lord, I don't believe you can remove this Horcrux without damaging it. He's piled every negative thing he's ever felt on top of it." Harry's mouth said.
"So I must kill him?" Voldemort asked, red eyes flashing.
"Maybe not," The Other said quickly.
"You could bind us, he'll be more willing to do as you wish. If you can't remove your soul piece, why not make it agreeable?"
Harry had smiled mutely at these memories. They didn't bother him. He found his Other's insistence amusing.
Endearing almost.
Harry knew that he would have to talk to Dumbledore at some point, because the purpose of the potion that had been forced on him was to make him remember.
So he'd have to tell the Headmaster that he had something in him that came from Voldemort.
He would only divulge what the Other had told him, nothing from it's memories. He wouldn't tell the Professor that he was a Horcrux, nor that he remembered what had happened to him when the Dark Lord had him.
Right at that moment he sat between Ron and Hermione in the common room, the two of them forming a shield against the curious students that got to close.
He felt a bit like a child, but overall he was grateful not to talk to anyone about his seizure. He now knew that the seizure was a result of the beginning of the fusion, not due to any malnourishment as the Headmaster said, or due to some sort of traumatic reaction, as Hermione believed.
It was mid Sunday morning, and he and his two best friends had only just collapsed on the Common room sofa after the trek from the Hospital wing.
He knew that he would have to seek the Headmaster out, it would seem strange if Harry did nothing, a bit to suspicious for a wizard who had, seemingly, been a hairs breadth away from fusing with a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, as well as every violent emotion he'd ever felt.
He had to play the part of the concerned and confused child martyr.
"Are you alright, mate? You have this awful look on your face," Ron had his hand on Harry's shoulder, making him jump slightly.
"Er, yeah, sorry. I have to talk to Dumbledore," Harry stood quickly, forcing the bubble of anger to heel.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione's concerned voice broke through his haze, and he shook his head.
"It's fine, just something I forgot to say earlier, might be important," He held his hands up, trying to keep them seated, because they both looked about to stand.
He pushed out of the portrait hole, ignoring the curious faces and slamming the fat lady shut behind him, leaning up against the painting and making the woman within scoff indignantly.
He took a deep steadying breath, trying to keep his cool. Nothing had even happened, and he could barely contain himself.
He could see this becoming a problem.
Not to most people, because he was entitled to a little post traumatic stress, for once, but to his Headmaster, this would be a clear indication that his potion plan had failed.
And Harry didn't know whether or not he had a back up plan.
But he needed to see the Headmaster, as soon as possible, because not going was equally suspicious.
He took another breath and looked down at his shaking hands.
"Alright mate?"
Harry glanced up at Seamus, trying to smile. The other boy had come from no where, or so Harry thought.
"Yeah, sorry," He moved away from the portrait, earning himself another scolding from the Fat Lady.
"Treating me as if I were a common wall. The nerve," She muttered to Seamus, opening without asking for the password, such was her fury.
Harry left without a word of apology to the portrait.
"Come in, Harry."
He did as he was bid, opening the door and stepping into the Headmaster's office.
"I'm sorry professor, I meant to tell you straight away, but Ron and Hermione came and-" Harry began, and Dumbledore interrupted him, as he hoped the elder man would.
"What's the matter, my boy?" The Headmaster steeped his fingers and leaned forward, nodding to the empty chair across from him.
Harry sat, trying to look guilty, or something. He couldn't tell how he would have felt before. Disgusted? Scared?
He had felt those things, to begin with. So he went with that.
"There's, well, there's something in me," Harry whispered, pointing to himself and staring at the Headmaster with more intensity than was probably warranted.
"I think it, I mean, I know it is; a part of Voldemort."
Dumbledore had the gall to look taken aback for a moment.
"How can you be sure?" He asked, leaning even closer, studying Harry.
"This morning, when I woke up, I remembered. It spoke to me in my dreams, and- it changed a lot, it was all black to begin with, then it was normal, almost. It wore a suit- like a Muggle one. Then it got sick, or something, and I remembered. I couldn't remember it before, I would forget as soon as I woke up. I thought maybe there was something wrong, because I started sleep walking. That night at the Quiddich world cup. I think that I might have, um. Well that's how I ended up outside the wards, anyway. That's how they caught me. Because it was making me sleep walk." Harry fumbled over his words, intentionally, putting emphasis on 'Remembering'. He'd dropped a hint that he didn't know what he had been doing the night of the world cup, but didn't mention actually knowing what he had done.
"Are you certain, Harry?" Dumbledore looked grave, and Harry wondered what the man would do. As far as he knew, the Horcrux had been pushed down, separated. There was no need for him to do anything, but he thought that Harry had no idea what he had done.
He couldn't be inactive, that was suspicious.
"And then what happened? Do you believe that it's gone?"
Harry pondered what he would have done in this situation.
He couldn't appear to sure of himself. He would have insisted that the Headmaster make sure it was gone, that he didn't know how to tell.
But he didn't want the professor looking to far into it, in case there was a way to tell whether or not the potion had succeeded.
He wondered if there was a way to force them apart now that they were whole. It was a worrying thought.
"I, I think so. It was worried, it said something was happening and I had to stop it, but I didn't and then I remembered everything."
Dumbledore nodded, his chin on his hands.
"We'll have to keep a close eye on you, then. If what you say is true, then something must have forced it out."
Harry should have figured that he needn't have worried.
The Headmaster was confident that the potion had done its job, he had no way of knowing about Moody's interference. Harry's own concern only steadied the elder man's belief that he was victorious.
He was safe. No one was going to dig too deep. He could be himself, now.
The headmaster let him go without much else, a few questions about how Harry thought he had gotten the piece of Voldemort, to which he said he didn't know.
Which he didn't.
That thought led to another, more interesting thought.
What was he going to do about that situation? Clearly Voldemort no longer wanted him dead, and Harry no longer gave a toss what the man did.
In fact Harry almost felt like he was watching a game, and all of the sudden he was more inclined to root for the Dark Lord's team.
But his loved ones wouldn't really enjoy that idea.
He figured he did need to talk to the man, though. About what it meant to be a Horcrux.
Did that mean that they were no longer enemies?
From what his Other remembered, or maybe he could call it Himself, now, the Dark Lord seemed as if he didn't want Harry to die.
Which was all well and good, for him.
He thought about talking to Moody, who seemed to know a great deal about his combined self; but decided to wait until the next defence lesson, which was thankfully, the next day.
Harry slept better that night than he ever had in his life.
The rest of that day had been uneventful, besides on altercation with Goyle, who had mumbled something about Hermione's blood as they passed; Making Harry snap and shove the larger boy against the wall, snarling. Goyle had stayed stock still, fleeing when The Boy Who Lived let him go.
All in all, that was okay. It wasn't entirely unusual that Harry would defend his friends honour violently, and one could argue that it was the only way to get Slytherin's to see sense. Besides that, Harry didn't feel to out of control in that situation. He wanted to disembowel the Slytherin, sure, but he wasn't in danger of actually doing it.
He couldn't figure out why he had been so against taking back what he'd taken out. Though he was sure that he'd have a few speed bumps, he was also sure he was going to be fine. Better than he had been before, even.
Defence was his third class that Monday, and Harry found that his leg bounced impatiently through every lesson.
When he finally walked into the defence classroom, he shot Mad Eye a meaningful look, or what he hoped was a look that got the point across.
Moody did nothing but stare at him, so Harry didn't know whether he looked meaningful or constipated.
They had this class with the Slytherin's, and Goyle gave him a wide berth, not even looking at him. Crabbe seemed to do the same, and Malfoy seemed confused by the pair of them, openly sneering at Harry and his friends.
When everyone was seated, the professor spoke.
"I'll need a volunteer for this one," He said, giving Harry a pointed look.
The Boy Who Lived stood quickly, though it didn't look as if anyone else had been about to stand.
"Stand here, Potter."
Harry came to stand directly in front of Mad Eye, once again giving him a look that the older man promptly ignored.
"I trust that some of you have heard of Legilimency," He asked the group at large, though Harry noticed his eyes lingered on Hermione, who's hand shot up in the air.
"Sir, that's mind reading," She said curtly, and Moody nodded.
"That's correct, five points to Gryffindor."
Harry looked over his shoulder at his friend, smiling. She looked concerned all of a sudden, and he assumed that was because Mad Eye was probably about to enter his mind.
He was okay with that, but Hermione seemed worried on his behalf.
He figured it was all the better for Moody to see that he and his Other had combined, instead of just hearing it from his mouth.
"For those of you who aren't aware of how it works, allow me to demonstrate. Make eye contact with me boy,"
Harry did as he was told, staring at the professors good eye, because the other one was flailing as if it was trying to escape.
"Legilimens,"
Harry didn't feel anything, and he wondered if the man had performed the spell correctly.
"And that's it. Of course, it's not necessary to speak the incantation, once the caster is skilled enough. Otherwise the spell is useless. Your target knows what you're doing before you do it if you go about shouting 'Legilimens.'"
"But I didn't feel anything," Harry said.
"Of course you didn't." moody said gruffly, shooing him back to his seat.
"But you can rest assured that I saw the last three months of your life,"
Harry sat down next to Hermione and nodded curtly at the professor, knowing that he now knew that his potion swap had been successful, and he could talk to the man about what he should do next.
Maybe Moody could take him to the Dark Lord.
"Three months!?" Hermione asked, outraged.
"That quickly?!"
"Miss Granger, if I were any less experienced I might have only seen two."
"It's that easy to get inside someone's head?" Harry asked, interrupting what was clearly becoming an argument about morals and such.
"It takes a lot of training," Moody answered, nodding at Harry's worry.
If it was that easy, anyone could see what he was now.
"How many people can do it?"
"A few. Some are even in this castle."
Harry baulked, blinking fast at the professor.
"And the defence against it?" Harry pressed.
"Occlumency. Though it is equally difficult. Of course one could avoid eye contact."
The rest of the class had fallen silent, and Harry realised that he was acting oddly, and shook the fear off, for now.
"It's clear you've taken quite an interest, boy. Stay behind after class and we can discuss it further."
Harry tuned much of the rest of the lesson out. All he really wanted to know now was who the other mind readers were, so he could avoid them.
Hermione left reluctantly, looking over her shoulder at Harry as if she'd never see him again.
He gave her an encouraging smile and shooed her off, eager to speak to Moody privately.
"I'm feeling pretty combined today sir," Harry said in case the mind reading wasn't enough.
"I could tell by the numerous looks you gave me," He said drily.
"Right," Harry didn't know how to begin.
"So, you knew, about-"
"Yes, I did. He told me to keep an eye on you and intervene; if it looked as if you might not complete the transition." Moody answered.
"Do you know what he wants?" Was Harry's next question.
"I'm not the one you should be asking,"
"Then who should I ask?"
"Him," Mad Eye threw something small his way and he caught it quite by accident.
It was a small bag of floo powder.
Moody gestured to his office.
"There's a fireplace in there. The powder will take you there, no need for you to know where you're going."
"So it'll take me to the Dark Lord?" Harry asked, needing to know for sure.
"Keep your voice down, boy! Who'd you think it was taking you to, Merlin?"
Harry bowed his head, feeling stupid.
"Okay, sorry. So just throw the powder in and that's it?"
Moody nodded, looking exasperated and gesturing to the stairs.
Harry climbed them, half expecting Mad Eye to follow, but he didn't.
He threw the powder into the waiting fire and stepped in, feeling giddy. He was finally going to get some answers. Or so he hoped.
He watched hundreds of other fireplaces flash by, until he came to a stop that caused him to roll out unceremoniously, coughing in the cloud of soot. He realised that he hadn't asked who the other mind readers were and mentally smacked himself.
"I've been expecting you," A voice said before he could look up.
Harry knew the Dark Lord only from the memories his Other had; during the time he was held captive. He was bald, had slitted nostrils and red glowing eyes. A snake coiled around his shoulders that was big enough to possibly eat him whole. He was seated in a throne like chair, deep red like his eyes. The fire behind Harry crackled and spat, seeming to be angrier than the average set of flames.
All in all, Harry felt pretty unaffected.
He supposed the Dark Lord might be fearsome, to someone who cared about that kind of thing.
"Why don't you take a seat," Voldemort gestured regally to the empty chaise lounge. The teen stood and dusted himself off, not caring much for the rug.
"We have a lot to talk about," Harry said as he sat, looking the snake in the eyes as he did. It watched him with interest, and he gave it a small smile.
"Indeed we do," The Dark Lord agreed.