Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any of the characters.
Note: I could pretty easily go back and make this DH compliant. But I'm not going to edit a thing. Why? Because this chapter here is the first post-DH chapter but I was right on so many things prior to this I'm just tickled. I could go back and make another story, I guess… but I think people would then definitely never review instead of probably never review.
This story's background assumes that the Horucruxes cannot be destroyed unless put back together and that it took a long time (like 10 years) for Harry to get to a point skill-wise where he could kill Voldie. I knew this wasn't going to happen in canon, but I thought Harry too much of a pansy to get by with little help in only a year. So, there you have it.
oOoOoOo
Sirius comes bounding up, tail tucked between his legs. He transforms mid-leap and comes to a sliding stop in front of the two teachers. "Sorry, the trail just ends. I've gone in every direction for a long while, doing every search pattern I can think of, but the trail just ends right here."
"Why would that be?" Dumbledore muses, trying to keep frustration at bay.
"He wasn't taken away by something?" Riddle asks Sirius.
"No, no scents here but our own for hours and hours. I would still be able to smell him or something if he had been kidnapped, but nothing at all." Sirius sniffs once again, as if to prove there is nothing to be found. "It's as if he disApparated."
"Thank you Sirius, if that is what you smell than that is what you smell. Please return to Professor McGonagall, I'm sure she is missing you're help."
"Alright Headmaster. I'm sorry I couldn't track him for you." Sirius shrugs, looking genuinely discomfited. He transforms into a dog and bounds back through the edge of the forest back toward school.
Dumbledore pulls out the rat organizer out of his robes and frowns into it. "Do you see anything, Albus?" Riddle asks, looking around anxiously. "If something has taken Harry that cannot be smelled then I want to find him as quickly as possible before something happens to him. The Forbidden Forest is a dangerous place."
"I don't think you have to worry about Harry wandering around in the Forbidden Forest." Dumbledore says grimly.
"Why not?"
"He isn't here, he is at least 100 miles away according to this tracker."
Riddle looks affronted. "You can't be seriously suggesting that he Apparated? You can't Apparate within school grounds."
"Technically, Tom, we are not on school grounds anymore." Dumbledore says sadly. "The anti-Apparation barrier only extends so far into the forest."
"Are you saying that Harry can Apparate?" Tom says, repeating himself as his mind tries to either come to grips with the fact or try to find a way around it.
"Get out of my head!" Harry yells in a scratchy voice.
/:I would point out that you brought me in, but I suppose it is useless to try to reason with you.:/
"How did you wake up? I had you suppressed… I did! I saved the world…"
/:Oh please, boy. I have survived half your life as a disembodied spirit. You did not actually believe that idiot prophecy, did you?:/
"But…"
/:Get a hold of yourself. Until I can find a way to oust you from your body we're going to have to get along.:/
"Why in the seven hells would I want to get a hold of myself to help you kill my own soul?" Voldemort seems inordinately pleased by this pronouncement.
/:That's much better, now we're thinking like a proper Slytherin.:/
"I'm not a Slytherin!"
/:Don't try to lie to me, fool, our very souls are connected.:/
"Fine. But I am as much a Gryffindor as a Slytherin and I will rid this world of you even if I have to kill myself." Harry feels a burst of emotion from Voldemort that seems suspiciously similar to eyes rolling. Reviewing what he just said, some part deep down inside where he can easily deny it he admits that the statement had been a tad over the top.
/:I admit that would be somewhat annoying, but I am a full soul now. Nothing would prevent me from possessing someone else. In fact, that would likely be easier. You have become quite adept at blocking my attempts to overthrow you, even while asleep. Be my guest, kill yourself.:/
Harry has nothing to reply to that. Voldemort, as much as Harry hates to admit it, has a point. He feels a bitter irony that Voldemort has just convinced him not to kill himself. He crosses his arms and pouts.
/:Very mature, Harry.:/ Voldemort notes, his soul sneering as only a basilisk can.
"Fuck off. I'm not even eleven. I can sulk if I damn well please."
/:Quite the mouth on such a youngling.:/ Voldemort slithers down lower into Harry's mind again before Harry can gather himself to shove him down by force. /:Try to keep a lower profile, if you can possibly manage. I don't feel the need to be labeled a Dark Lord in this world because of your foolish mistakes. I would rather do that by my own merit.:/ Voldemort's basilisk soul chuckles darkly as it slips back out of immediate consciousness. Just before he becomes a mere tickle in the back of Harry's mind he adds/:They are coming, do try to act innocent. And if you are going to usurp my skills at least use them to advantage.:/
"Oh hell."
oOoOoOo
"We're almost to him now, the reading is quite close." Dumbledore says, looking down at the stuffed rat which is the illustrious 'rat tracker.' Riddle sniffs disgustedly at the Headmaster's choice of object for enchanting. "Yes he should be…"
"Harry!" Tom cries, rushing forward to scoop the stunned boy into his arms. Harry is too shocked to do anything but hold stiffly still as Tom hugs him tight to his chest. "Oh I thought I had lost you! Don't do that again, you almost killed Severus with the guilt." Harry feels Tom stroking his head and back, rocking him gently in his arms but can't really believe it. Not only is this the second time he's been held like this that he can remember (first being Snape of all people) but it is surreal to be held by the man who's other soul is you mortal enemy and is chuckling to itself in the very bottom of your own soul. "Let's take you back to Hogwarts, alright?" Tom stands, still holding a shocked and somewhat uncomfortable Harry. Harry submits to the comfort as there is nothing he can think of to solve his myriad problems. Voldemort at least has agreed to be quiescent for the time being. Harry muses that there really isn't anything he can do at this point as anything he plans will immediately be known by his enemy anyway. He needs to do a significant amount of research to try to discover some means to kill a soul inside the researcher's body when said soul is impervious to the killing curse. Harry groans in despair.
Tom hugs Harry and hisses into his ear. ::It's alright little one, I shall be sure to kill whatever evil thing has you so tormented.:: Harry lets out a choked sob. He decides to ignore that Riddle is cuddling him as likely this man is the only one in the dimension who is likely to be able to withstand Voldemort's attacks through Harry's body. Well, Dumbledore can probably hold his own as well. Harry looks over at the older wizard and is not entirely surprised to note the contemplative look on his face. Harry almost absently bats away Dumbledore's Leglimency but is amused at the startled look the Headmaster quickly hides.
Instead the Headmaster puts his hand on Harry's shoulder, making him flinch. Tom hisses comforting, well, snake-comforting things in his ear as Harry's brindle rat scurries up to sit on the Headmaster's hand. Dumbledore points his wand at the creature who has grown to the size of a large cat in order to sit on the Headmasters hand and still wrap her tail around Harry's neck and casts a wordless spell that Harry nonetheless recognizes. Report Voldemort reports in the back of Harry's brain. He lashes out but the giant snake slips out of his reach into his subconscious.
"He's missed Potions it seems." Tom says, thinking aloud. "Likely we should just put him in the lower section. I'm sure that Jeff did not get into Advanced as he is rather pathetic at Potions and Harry never showed any inclination to work with Severus when he was brewing something. Well, except to banish the contents of the cauldron of course." Tom chuckles.
"That will likely work just fine." Dumbledore answers absently, engrossed in reading the information reported by the rat. Harry resolves to look at what she is recording the second that he is alone again. Which, judging by how much they seem to be overreacting, might not be for a while.
"We'll get you lunch in my rooms and then you can catch up with Jeff and your housemates after they get out of class, which shouldn't be to long from now. Slughorn was not intending to keep them for much longer than an hour in the afternoon I don't think and it's nearly one thirty now." Tom strokes Harry's head and Harry sighs into his shoulder. Life is supposed to be less complicated after death, not more so. Harry frowns in confusion. That is, you aren't alive after death and thus cannot have a life… but… his head starts to hurt and he gives it up as too much effort to think about on too little sleep. /Maybe this is hell/. Harry thinks pessimistically.
Dumbledore takes his hand from Harry's bony shoulder and the rat disappears again into the boy's robes. "He did Apparate out here." Dumbledore says grimly. "It's a wonder he didn't splinch himself." /Too bad I didn't you mean./ Harry thinks to himself.
"When did he learn something like that?" Tom asks. "Could it have been accidental?"
"No. We'll discuss this later." Dumbledore says with an air of finality. Harry wonders if the old man is on to him. He does have a suspicious gleam to his eye hiding behind the automatic cheerful twinkle.
"I still think it might be, it would explain how Harry ended up here the first time."
The first time? Harry wonders. He looks around and with a sickening twist to his stomach he realizes that he had Apparated to the battlefield where he… what? Died? Defeated Voldemort? Failed in everything?
"Let's just take young Harry back, he needs to eat something after this stressful morning and it is no good for any of us to be out here in the cold." Dumbledore says, smiling sadly. Harry starts as he realizes that it is in fact a bit chilly and that before the Headmaster mentioned it he had not even noticed. /Just because it seems like this is a peaceful time does not allow you to let your guard down!/ Harry admonishes himself. An amused snort comes from the edge of his consciousness and Harry lashes at it viciously without success. "Would you be so kind as to Apparate us back, Harry?" Dumbledore asks Harry calmly, eyes expectant. Harry is so dumbfounded that Dumbledore would be so blatant in trying to expose him that all he can do is stare at the older wizard.
"Don't you think that is asking a little much, Albus?" Tom says, his voice thick with disapproval. "I shall take my ward back now." With that the bemused Headmaster disappears with the alternatively future battlefield in the lurch of Apparation. They reappear just outside the Hogwarts gates and Harry pops his ears with a yawn to equalize them from the pressure change between the lowland valley of Ireland and the highlands of Scotland. He prepares to be put down but Tom shows no inclination to let Harry continue the trek under his own power.
By the time they reach the entrance to Hogwarts, Harry has begun to have serious doubts as to whether he should let himself be brought back into contact with other people. It is obvious that he has no control whatsoever over Voldemort's soul and the evil bastard has displayed a disturbing ability to take over the minds of other people, children especially. Harry shudders to think what might have happened to Ginny if Harry had not defeated the first Horucrux in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry's thoughts abruptly detour: whatever happened to the Chamber in this time? Does Tom even know about it?
Harry pulls out of his musing to a sound so subtle and familiar that he almost didn't hear it at all, even though Tom is making no efforts to hide that he is hissing obscenities about daft old wizards. :: …I have been taking care of this child for over three years and he decides that because a few weird things start to happen that all of the sudden the poor thing is some sort of evil being visited upon us!:: Harry winces again. Tom looks down at him in concern. ::It's obvious that he is terrified, and a bit of fast running and Apparation is the least odd thing the sprite's done since we brought him home!:: Harry sighs mentally. I can't believe I'm worse half-comatose… He groans to himself. Harry pokes into his subconscious but Voldemort seems to be keeping his word and staying out of sight, something that serves to unsettle rather than reassure. Harry yawns. It was a long night without much sleep. He settles back onto Tom's shoulder and half-dozes to the sound of hissed insults for the trip back to Tom's apartment.
oOoOoOo
"I've put him back in bed and set the wards myself this time." Tom says, letting the door to the first year's dorm close softly behind him. "He seems exhausted. And no wonder with all the magic he was using." He sighs. "I reactivated the Port-Key homing charm on his necklace. We haven't had to use it in years, but considering the circumstances…"
"It's for the best, Tom." Dumbledore says, his eyes hard. "Would you care for some tea in my office?"
Though not particularly thirsty, Tom understands the real request and nods.
Once the door to the Headmaster's office is closed Tom makes sure that the wards raised and Dumbledore sinks into his chair and steeples his hands.
"Just tell me what you've found." Riddle says, wearily sinking into one of the chairs in front of the desk.
"Have you been keeping the monitoring spell on yourself?" Dumbledore asks instead of answering.
Tom frowns. "What is this about, Albus."
Dumbledore sighs.
"Is it the spells he has been casting?' Tom sits forward in the chair, intent. "You know he's been casting all manner of dark spells since the day we found him. Merlin's Balls! In St. Mungo's he cursed five nurses and a particularly annoying reporter with spells we've never even seen before."
"Look at this, Tom." Dumbledore says, pushing the rat across the desk.
Riddle frowns, picking up the floppy toy and staring it in its smiling eyes. A few minutes later he looks up. "Merlin."
oOoOoOoOo
Harry feigns the boneless sleep of the child he is supposed to be in order to get the two older wizards to leave him in peace. Riddle had activated something innately magical around his neck before leaving. Though intensely curious as to what it could be, Harry calms himself both to continue fooling Riddle and so as not to rouse Voldemort into telling him.
Finally alone, he strains to hear the two wizards behind the door. Dumbledore's mention of tea only makes Harry more frantic to find out what his rat has seen. He pulls her out from inside his sleeve, holding her gently as she squeaks. He looks deeply into the magic around her, making sure to not even inadvertently draw upon the power in the coiled basilisk slipping curiously just beneath where Harry can lash at it.
/Report./ Harry commands the rat silently, hoping his not knowing any incantation that would go along with the command will not deter it from working.
The rat looks up at him pleasantly, twitching her whiskers before rubbing her nose with her paws. No information is forthcoming.
/:It seems you are in need of assistance.:/ The basilisk chuckles, slipping in and out of the edges of Harry's reach.
/I don't need any help from you./ Harry shouts back mentally.
/: Repono:/ Voldemort hisses before curling up and seeming to fall asleep.
Harry ignores the other soul sullenly and tries to forget the incantation, but nearly an hour later he has to acknowledge that without more research he has no way of unlocking the rat's secrets.
It's try Voldemort's suggestion or sneak out to the Library and hope that Dumbledore has another child he is trying to guide through some convoluted path to being a pawn making him leave advanced books lying around. Harry doesn't need the Dark Lord's amusement sifting up through his soul to realize that is incredibly unlikely.
Feeling like his morals are slipping dangerously he growls out the incantation. "Repono." Information rushes into his mind. Most of it he understands, though he is concerned about the depth and detail of the litany of spells he has cast in the past day. The other information, though…
/:It's a magical signature monitor!:/ Harry attacks the basilisk gleefully as it raises up. Each attack on it brings blinding pain to himself, as well.
"What have you done to me?" Harry grates out.
/:Nothing you have not done yourself, you fool. Look at the information!:/ Understanding dawns in Harry's mind reluctantly but completely. The rat has been watching his aura and has seen the wild vacillations of it as their two souls battled. It also recorded Harry's end of the argument they had just had.
"No." Harry whispers.
/:We need to get out of here. They know!:/
Panic overcomes Harry and he is out of the bed and half-way through the door before he stops.
/I'm taking orders from Voldemort./ He thinks incredulously.
/:Harry, it is to preserve yourself. They will try to fix you, who knows what will happen.:/
Harry climbs back into bed, for once seeking out contact with Voldemort's soul to try to tease the motivations out of the reptilian façade. Voldemort glides slowly through Harry's consciousness, giving nothing away.
Harry puts his head in his hands, thinking furiously and trying to keep his thoughts behind a shield of Occlumancy as Voldemort seems to do so easily.
The obvious answer is that Voldemort is trying to get him to run away for his own purposes. Perhaps alone, he will be able to take over? Or perhaps Voldemort fears this dimension's Tom Riddle as being able to 'cure' Harry?
Or maybe Voldemort is trying to get Harry to think that, when in actuality being alone would allow Harry to master the other pieces of the soul…
"Arg!" Harry yells, grabbing his head in his hands. How is he supposed to know which way to turn? He has the potential to lose the Dark Lord on a completely unprepared and seemingly almost idyllic alternate universe. But there is also no guarantee that on his own he will be able to come up with anything any better than what Dumbledore and Riddle might figure out. There isn't even a guarantee that the materials needed to figure it out even exist in this reality. It's entirely possible that there is no research on soul magics at all.
/:It seems that you have no choice but to trust them, then.:/ Voldemort adds helpfully. Harry almost punches himself in the face. The only thing stopping him is the fact that ha is the one in control of the body and thus it would hurt him more than the other.
oOoOoOoOo
"What are we going to do?" Riddle asks, sinking deep into the chair as his energy leaves him entirely.
"There's more, Tom."
"What? How can there be more? The boy has a broken soul!"
"A wizard cannot see this own signature, of course, but for others it is an immutable and unmistakable part of his being." Dumbledore intones, looking down his crooked nose at the younger man.
"Yes, of course, Albus." Tom replies, puzzled.
"Is there anything you want to tell me?" The older wizard asks.
"No." Tom replies, becoming anxious. The headmaster asked him the same question the night he was going to commit suicide to escape his relatives. He had an answer then, as well as an idea at what the old wizard was getting at. "What did you see in that rat? Do you know who did this to Harry?"
Dumbledore sits back and steeples his fingers. "When did you first attempt to make a Horucrux, Tom?"
oOoOoOo
Harry stares at the rat. She stares back. Finally she loses interest and curls up on the pillow. /How am I supposed to avoid her detection spells?/
/:Except for the dialogue, it doesn't really matter, does it.:/ The basilisk muses, coiling intricate designs in Harry's mental landscape now that the younger wizard has stopped suppressing it in an attempt to get a glimmer of its purpose.
/So I suppose you can hear my thoughts, then./
Voldemort ignores Harry and begins a coil looking vaguely like a Blast-Ended Skewt. /:It's an owl.:/ The basilisk hisses angrily.
/I'm sorry to offend your artistic sensibilities./ Harry replies sarcastically.
Harry ignores the other soul and tries to think of what he should do. It seems like he should do something, not just wait around for the two older wizards to come and lock him away somewhere they can run experiments on him.
"Well, I might as well go to them, then." Harry says ruefully. He scoops up the rat, disables the wards with little effort, and heads to the Headmaster's office.
/:That is a great plan, Harry.:/ the basilisk adds with no inflection at all.
/Stop agreeing with everything that I'm doing! It makes it very hard for me to decide what to do!/
/:Is that so?:/ Voldemort replies with a hint of humor.
Harry grinds his teeth all the way to the Headmaster's office. He is so irritated he just waves the gargoyle aside, storms up the steps and flings the door open and stalks inside.
"Harry!" Come the surprised exclamations from both wizards sitting in the office. Dumbledore twinkles at Harry until the Leglimancy is quite heavy upon Harry's thoughts. Harry darts aside Dumbledore's spell and scoots into the old wizards mind instead, tired of the games and needing to know what the other is thinking. He immediately runs into the Headmaster's certainty that Riddle had made Harry a Horucrux. The twisted irony of the accusation makes Harry want to laugh, but he restrains himself. This world's Riddle is an almost sickeningly pure do-gooder who would have nothing to do with that sort of twisted magic. The meddling old codger is much more likely to do something horrific, "for the greater good." Rage builds as Harry remembers how Dumbledore made him leave school for the holidays to go back to the orphanage run by his uncle and… Harry breaks the connection with the Headmaster, shuddering.
A groan right in his ear makes him jump and he turns to look at Tom's pained face as he clutches his chest. Harry is slightly bemused to be back in the man's lap without consciously moving there, but is more worried about the man's health. He looks quite pale and almost as though he is going to be sick.
Dumbledore stands, his face a mask of fury. "And with that display you still would deny that the boy is a piece of your soul?!"
Riddle coughs and seems to recover some as Harry looks on at him with deep concern. He tries to answer Dumbledore but can only shake his head.
"Very well." The Headmaster says with sad but righteous resignation. "With such overwhelming evidence I have no choice but to summon the Ministry."
Harry's mouth drops open. Dumbledore would abandon Riddle so easily?
/:Do something, boy! We cannot be taken as a Dark Artifact!:/ The basilisk hisses, whipping through the depths of Harry's consciousness.
/That's what I am, though, isn't it?/
/:You fool!:/ The rage burns within him, almost breaking through Harry's resolution. /:You would leave my counterpart to the Ministry as easily as Dumbledore? You who know his innocence?:/
Harry gasps and turns to look at Riddle, who is now panting softly, his head flopped against the chair with a wince on his face. /No!/ Harry isn't sure why, but a deep well of concern opens up as he looks at the older wizard. Riddle seems to recover as Harry lets it overwhelm him.
Harry whips around at the sound of powder being drawn from a jar.
"No!" He grates out, his voice almost breaking even on that one word. He coughs to clear his throat. Dumbledore turns slowly, his wand at the ready.
'"What was that?" He asks dangerously.
"Tom didn't make me into a Horucrux. He has nothing to do with the mess my soul is in." Harry rasps.
"Harry?" Riddle asks weakly, his hands hovering over the boy's frame, unsure.
Dumbledore narrows his eyes, but with the pronouncement the anger has dissipated enough that Harry can see the sadness and fear lurking behind it. Harry actively blocks himself from Legitimizing the man again. "How do you know about that?"
Harry sits up and gets off of Tom's lap. He doesn't feel comfortable revealing himself curled up in the man's arms. /:You shouldn't feel comfortable revealing yourself at all.:/ The basilisk hisses, but the other soul's voice is low enough in his subconscious that he can easily ignore the comment.
"I can explain." Harry says with a sigh, knowing that while true, it will take quite a bit to convince the others that his explanation is true.
"You are a Horucrux?" Tom asks weakly, both because he is recovering from his chest pain and because he doesn't want to believe it.
"Yes." Harry croaks out despairingly.
"And you are the Horucrux of Tom Marvolo Riddle." Dumbledore adds, with a bit of doubt creeping into his conviction. "Your auras are the same. And you cause him physical pain to his own magical core whenever you are near him."
"Only recently." Riddle adds.
/Oh Merlin! I've been making him so ill?/ At the rush of horrified concern Tom picks up considerably. /No… Voldemort is./
"There is no doubt with the evidence. Two people cannot have the same auras." Dumbledore says, with more conviction. He makes as if to throw the powder in the fireplace again.
"I am the Horucrux of a Tom Marvolo Riddle, but not this one. I was formed by the one that calls himself Lord Voldemort." Harry says. His throat is beginning to hurt from talking so much. That or Voldemort is sabotaging his body from within in an attempt to get him to shut up.
Dumbledore turns around, still angry but now more puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Harry sighs, rubs his eyes tiredly and just says it. "I'm from another dimension. One in which Tom Riddle hated Muggles so much that he started a war against them. A sick, sadistic war that killed many innocents."
"I did that…" Tom says, looking faint again.
Dumbledore walks over to Harry and looks down at him disapprovingly. "How long have you been in control of yourself." It is a question, but stated as a demand. Harry is surprised at how to the point this Dumbledore is, but perhaps he shouldn't be. The man had steeled himself to turn in a dear friend. Harry calculates the best way to answer. "It's been at least since the Sorting." Dumbledore says, staring at Harry until the pressure of the Legilimency is almost too annoying to put up with. Harry is again shocked, and now wary. He looks away from Dumbledore, if nothing else to escape the pressure, but also to try to think of something to say, of what to do. For once the soul inside his is silent, expectant. Harry wishes it would say something so that he can have something to react to.
Tom comes to his rescue. The man drops to a knee in front of him, putting his face on level with Harry's. A gesture that should feel patronizing but instead is comforting. "Those curses when we found you- some of them had very nasty temporal and essence-ripping properties. Do you think the combination…"
"Threw me here?" Harry closes his eyes. "That or the Avada Kedavra." He opens his eyes in time to see Riddle and Dumbledore both stiffen at the reference. Harry smiles ruefully. "It seems so odd to have people react so strongly to it. It almost seems like a joke after how many times I've been hit with it and lived." He looks at his hands, small and soft like the child his body is. "In a manner of speaking."
"Oh, Harry." Tom says, compassion in his eyes.
"And why should we believe you?" Dumbledore asks coldly. Harry curses being back in the old man's bad graces. It never made life any easier to have the meddlesome old coot hovering over his every move. Harry gasps the same time that Tom does. Harry looks over him unhappily to see Tom clutching his chest again.
"I'm so sorry, Tom. I thought I could control him better." Harry clutches his fists together so tightly pain shoots up his arms and he looks down to see little crescents of blood on his palms. "I thought I wouldn't have to deal with this at all!" He shouts, his rusty voice in a child's high pitch sounding almost ludicrous. "What more can be asked of me? Didn't I kill myself to rid the world of this evil? It never ends!" Harry rages, depressed and desperate and not caring if Dumbledore sends him to the Ministry to be locked up. Wait, Azkaban! Harry looks up at Dumbledore hopefully. "Do you think a Dementor's Kiss can tear our souls away from this body?"
"Harry!" Tom barks out, appalled.
Dumbledore looks shocked at the question, but after a second a speculative gleam enters the corner of his eye.
"You think it might be possible, don't you?" Harry asks hopefully, tears in the corner of his eye. Anything for it to be over.
"No, that is enough!" Tom says, scooping Harry up off the ground. "Albus, I cannot believe you are even considering this. Turning me into the Ministry is one thing, but letting a child ask for a Kiss and not even bat an eye… you have to be joking."
"That is no child you are holding, Tom." Dumbledore says, an unreadable expression on his face.
Tom gathers Harry closer to him and Harry can't find the will to resist. It is so comforting to be held like that, as if it will make the world hold back, even though Harry knows such things to be childish fantasies.
"He's right." Harry whispers into Tom's hair and he tries to hide from the world as his young body insists. "I'm not a child."
Tom holds him away from his body and studies Harry's turned face. "Of course you are, Harry."
"I'm actually 28. Or at least I was, before I failed to kill myself. When I failed to kill him." Harry can't bear to meet anyone's eyes. The soul inside his own seems torn between amusement at the situation or agitated worry.
"Why don't you tell us the whole story, Harry. There are many people out there that research Soul Magic, though few enough even consider dealing in something so Dark." Tom says kindly.
Harry winces, but knows that it is true. This whole bloody world is so innocent and pure. He feels that it is dulled and sullied by his very presence. "When I was a year old, Voldemort came to my house…"
A/N- so, kind of forgot about this story while I was writing another one, but know I;m excited about it again. I kinda have an idea where this is going, even- so maybe I'll end up avoiding snarls of writer's block. Anywho- I'm super busy in RL, so updates might be sporadic.
Thanks so much for the reviews and notes I've been getting from you guys, though- surprises and warms my heart. Sorry that I'm a bit of a flighty writer… oh wells.