A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Harry Potter.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
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-I REMOVED A PART OF THE PROPHECY ON PURPOSE FOR THIS FIC! That is it.
What better time to go to the Ministry then immediately?
Harry trotted along after his Potions professor, looking around in interest. He didn't have any memories of going to the Ministry so this was a new moment for him.
People were surrounding them on every side and Harry stuck much closer to Snape than he usually would. The man had done something with their wands and announced who they were and why they were there. The man proceeded to lead him to the Department of Mysteries where the Hall of Prophecy was located.
"Not every prophecy in the world is stored in here, right?" he asked, because it was just bothering him for some reason.
"All prophecies within Magical Britain end up on a shelf here. Most of them never get fulfilled because they are vague and the people they refer to have not been born yet, or have already died."
"Are the shelves just… charmed or something?"
"'Or something'," the man responded in a disinterested drawl.
Upon entering the Hall of Prophecy, Harry and Snape were confronted by a person in a mask, wearing a long black robe that was accompanied by a thick hood. Harry could not see the face beneath the dark cowl.
"Names and reason for entry," the person demanded, their voice sounding like a group of people instead of just one person, making it difficult to differentiate gender.
"Severus Snape and Harry Potter, to retrieve a prophecy about the Dark Lord and Harry Potter," Snape responded, lips barely moving at all they were pinched so tight.
The person raised their wand and whatever spell they cast, made the tip glow blue.
"You will hand over your wands for the duration of your visit."
Harry was very reluctant but he did see Snape give his over and knew that he had to do it. Reluctantly, the boy relinquished possession of the foci and took a deep breath. He could still do some wandless magic if it came down to it. It would only be a few minutes.
The person nodded and lifted their wand. When it glowed white, they murmured, "Follow me," and set off down one of the long aisles nearby.
The Hall was full of shelves that were filled with glowing, silvery balls of light. Like crystal balls that possessed some kind of inner power of their own.
A ways down the aisle they went, before changing aisles. The person stopped in front of a shelf and waved to it with a flourish of their wand.
Harry could see the plate underneath that certainly had his name, but not the name of the Dark Lord.
"That's… incredibly strange," he finally said. "Which Dark Lord is it talking about? Like, Britain can't be the only country to have suffered under a Dark Lord in the past half century, right?"
Snape looked to the person, who merely shrugged. "The prophecies appear here. Until Mr. Potter retrieves it, we may never know of what it speaks. I do know that if it has been fulfilled already, it would have cracked on its own and the plaque beneath it would have cleared."
"What's the question mark for?" asked Harry, eyeing it with suspicion.
"Someone else had fit the requirements but part of the prophecy was fulfilled with you instead of them."
Harry reached out and plucked the orb from the shelf. It was cold in his palm and vibrated intensely.
"You must break it to hear the prophecy," Snape told him.
Harry dropped it immediately and the form of a bedraggled woman with large glasses that made her eyes looks far too large, appeared. She was silvery in appearance and her voice was that of a well aged smoker. She looked strange with her numerous necklaces and weird beads in her frizzy hair.
"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. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."
The woman faded into nothing, until only dead silence remained.
"It doesn't say that I'm going to kill anyone, just that I supposedly have the power to!" Harry sneered, realising just what Dumbledore had pulled.
In order to prevent Harry from turning out like Voldemort, because he was prophesied to be the man's equal, he had taken preventative measures that ended up failing! It just seemed that Dumbledore never seemed to learn from his mistakes, or he just didn't care about the lives affected when he deliberately made bad choices.
If nothing before this had convinced him of Dumbledore's terrible character, then this had sealed the deal.
On another note, now that he knew that neither he nor Tom were prophesied to kill one another, that removed a large obstacle from his path.
"Tom and I are going to have words," the boy promised himself, not minding that two men had overheard him. One most likely not understanding and the other understanding all too well.
Harry stood with his back pressed firmly against a wall. One mistake. He probably shouldn't have done it, but how else was he going to satiate his curiosity?
He'd gone to the third floor to see just what it was that was being hidden. He wished that he hadn't.
Skilled he may have been, but what eleven year old could go up against a bloody Cerberus and win? Harry didn't have any musical talent to begin with, so if he even wanted to get by the creature, he would have had to use a spell and those kind of charms weren't taught until third year.
And why should he feel the need to get past a three headed dog that looked so vicious it could make a shark seem tame? Because the being was standing on a trap door and he kind of wanted to know what it was guarding.
What else could it be but a guard dog?
Brushing off his robes, Harry left the empty corridor behind. Neville was probably looking for him.
It was by pure chance that Severus had warned his students and the Hufflepuffs to remain in the Great Hall the night a troll was let into the school. The creature had been found roaming about the dungeons and could have killed either the Slytherins or the Hufflepuffs had they gone to their respective dormitories.
At the same time, the Dark Lord and Quirrell had tried to slip past the damn dog, only to find that it wasn't guarding anything yet, so the distraction had been all for naught.
Something had to push Dumbledore into putting it down in the lower chamber. But what could it be?
Severus wasn't a fool though and he knew that Potter was going to be the reason for it.
No matter what happened, Potter was always the reason for it. Whether the boy knew it or not.
Damn, Albus to the lowest pits of hell!
It was some time before the Christmas hols that Harry had finally found a chance to speak with Tom.
Snape had been in contact with the man somehow and had arranged a meeting with a promise that no harm would come to him, because Snape had already relayed the prophecy and Tom was much more level headed at the moment.
It was when Professor Quirrell walked into the room that Harry very nearly rebelled. There was no way that he was Voldemort! The man was so pathetic that Voldemort wouldn't even put on an act that terrible. It would be too embarrassing.
"Let me see him."
That voice did not come from Quirrell, nor Snape. It was whispery and familiar. In fact, Harry remembered where he had heard it before. His dream.
Quirrell proceeded to unwrap his long turban and turn around, revealing a very gaunt and emaciated face, that lacked a nose and possessed red eyes. Quirrell had a face on the back of his head! Gross! And it reeked of garlic!
"Harry James Potter," the face spoke, it's whispery voice much clearer.
"You invaded my dream! Tom, what the hell?"
Snape's head fell into his hand with a loud smack, but Harry didn't care. Tom could just enter people's dreams. There was something wrong with that!
The red eyes narrowed, making a shiver run down his spine. "How much do you know?"
"You married my former self and had sex nearly twice a day," was his blunt reply.
The smacking sound returned except this time, Snape's head was in both of his hands. Quirrell emitted a high 'meep' of embarrassment.
To his credit, the Dark Lord didn't so much as blink. "You know quite a lot then."
"Yeah. Also, Harish left me his vault and a letter. There's a letter for you as well."
"Then I suppose I will have to retrieve it when I get another body."
"And how are you going to do that?"
The face smirked. "The Philosopher's Stone of course. Dumbledore has it and I need it. Once I have it in my possession, nothing can stop me."
Harry simply stared at what used to be a man. Voldemort was stuck living off the back of someone's head. He had fallen a long ways ever since that night on Godric's Hollow.
"Are you sure that using the Stone thing is going to be helpful to you in any way? How would you even know how to use it? Only one has ever been made and it has been in the control of the same man for the past six hundred years."
"The Elixir of Life will make the drinker immortal, Harry," said Voldemort, Harry's name coming out as almost a hiss.
"Yes, but are we talking being unable to die, being unable to be killed and then just dying at old age or from disease, simply remaining in a young body for as long as you take it and then you age again when it's gone? There are different forms of immortality now, and it doesn't specify which one it talks about nor how to make it."
And the room went silent as all within contemplated his words.
"Besides, I think you already have the immortality thing taken care of. So how would the Elixir get you a body?"
The crimson eyes narrowed. "Let us just have faith in my Alchemy skills."
"If you have skills, why not make your own Stone?"
"Because it takes years and I need a body as soon as I can manage it, you brat!"
"No need to be rude."
The two stared each other down for several moments, before Voldemort huffed and ordered Quirrell to take over once more.
The turban was wrapped delicately around the face and Harry only caught a glimpse of crimson before the purple turban blocked his view.
"Potter," Snape started, "you have knackers made of brass."
"What did I do?"
The man simply rolled his eyes and didn't bother to respond.
The Mirror of Erised was supposed to be dangerous for people, so why the bloody hell was it in some random classroom in a school? Why was it even still around? Shouldn't someone have destroyed it so that it couldn't entrance any other innocent souls?
The only good thing about this whole venture, was the fact that Harry had gotten James' Invisibility Cloak for Christmas. Why Dumbledore even had the Cloak at all remained a mystery but he was going to have Snape check it over to make sure that the barmy bastard didn't ruin it or try to put tracking charms on it.
Harry stared at his reflection, trying to remind himself that it was all an illusion of sorts and that he could not look for too long. It was hard.
Harry wasn't often faced with thoughts about what he wanted in life. Instead, he found an odd mixture of Harish, books, and Voldemort/Tom. The boy couldn't understand everything he was seeing and realised that he didn't have any goals for the future except to avoid Dumbledore at all costs.
What did Harry want in life?
He was himself. Not Harish, or Haraldr, or Hadrian. Just Harry, with a few extra skills.
What did Harry James Potter want out of life?
Not to be another Harish.
Not to be used by anyone.
Not to be alone.
A/N: Another is done!
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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.