: speech : is Parseltongue
/ speech / is mental speak
:speech/ is mental Parseltongue
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A/N: So I don't know why it took me so long to get this part done, it was a lot of fun to write. Oh, right- crazy busy in RL…
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Harry settles for glaring forward when he finally gets to the last class of the week. Unfortunately the children around him don't seem to catch the hint to leave him alone. They are still gushing over the dive that, while extremely refreshing at the time, he is now beginning to regret. Whether he regrets pulling up or the dive altogether, he's not sure.
: Remember that we are probably immortal./ Voldemort hisses frantically at Harry's suicidal thoughts. : You wouldn't even succeed./
Harry lets his head sink onto his arms as he half listens to the professor describing the rune for teacher/family and how it can be used in a variety of spells. Honestly, he didn't understand it when he read it over the night before, nor is the reiteration making a dent in his ignorance.
But really- why not try to kill himself again? Sure it didn't work last time, but maybe it would this time. If it failed, he would likely end up in the same state as before in another universe. Maybe one that wasn't so utopian where another Voldemort would compete with an even worse monster and be a blessing rather than a curse. Maybe the fates had intended his being sent to this world as a sort of vacation before he went on to complete his Dark Lord destroying destiny.
:Harry- pull yourself together. Your attitude is completely pathetic. I was embarrassed before that you managed to defeat me, but now I'm downright mystified./
In fact, the whole part where Voldemort was being so consistent in trying to shoot the idea down meant that it had a certain amount of merit. It seemed when there was a decision to be made that the basilisk thought would turn out amusing or beneficial either way he would argue whichever way Harry had decided wouldn't work.
:No, I'm just trying to confuse you so you fall into my clever logic traps./ Voldemort continued, his mental voice feeling a bit stretched. :You should absolutely do something rash. Why not just leave class and…/ The basilisk starts to twist more and more rapidly around Harry's thoughts, seeking a weak point.
He's not even really trying anymore to be sneaky, actually, he's really starting to panic. That must mean that Harry is almost at a good solution to the whole problem. Harry feels almost like he is being haunted by some sort of fading ghost more than he's being harassed by a vicious Dark Lord…
Voldemort feels Harry's epiphany and starts to desperately swim through the other's consciousness, seeking control, seeking rationality. :Harry, this is a really bad idea- I think you should talk to Dumbledore, or Riddle. Or maybe your mother? Yes! You should definitely talk to your dear departed mother before you…/
"Exorcisimus!" Harry cries out, pointing his wand at his head.
All that either of them can see is blinding, brilliant, painful golden light.
:Ah! I'm blind.: Voldemort clutches his face with his hands, tearing at the skin there where it tingles and itches.
"Harry! What's wrong? Why did you do that?" Jeff tries to get Harry's arms back to his side but is resisted.
:Get your hands off me you useless child! Can't you see that… I'm… in pain?: Voldemort finally allows Jeff to pull his (his!) hands down from his face. A huge grin splits his face into two disturbing halves. :Hah! See how well that worked. I knew there that idiot was going to really muck this all up eventually. My patience is rewarded!: He turns to Jeff. :Well, minion, would you like to be the first recruit to my new army? You're young, but one can always use more canon fodder.:
"It's alright, Harry. Can you pay attention to class or do I need to take you to Tom?"
Voldemort narrows his eyes to slits. :You will pay for this lack of respect, imp.: He points his wand at Jeff. :Crucio!: Nothing happens. Or rather, Jeff does not fall to the ground writhing in agony and screaming. He just pushes the point of the wand toward the floor.
"Professor?" Jeff asks.
"Why are you still sitting here and not taking the boy to your Head of House?" Professor Hengle barks in reply.
"Yes ma'am!" Jeff jumps from his seat and pulls along the hissing and spitting Voldemort behind him.
Back in the classroom Marfic Black turns to the Ravenclaw sitting next to him and whispers, "did you see that Harry's eyes turned this wicked shade of red?"
"Shh! I need to hear this explanation. I don't care about your mentally challenged dorm mate." The girl replies, still annoyed at Marfic for stealing her History notes earlier.
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Jeff slows to a stop outside the DADA room, peering in at Tom teaching the fifth years what appears to be advanced shield charms. He is blissfully ignorant of the suggestions Voldemort is making about what he should do with the suit of armor in the hallway they just passed, his mother, a bunch of grapes and a fresh bezoar.
:As soon as I recall a Parseltongue spell that involved something other than mild warming and air humidity I will make you regret ever mishandling me!: Voldemort howls (as much as is possible in a language comprised entirely of hissing).
Tom's head flies up at the last, loudest insult. "Mr. Snape, if you would take over for a moment." He walks deceptively calmly to the back of the classroom and out into the hallway. He crouches down in front of Jeff with a small smile. "I'm sorry your classes keep getting interrupted."
"It's ok Tom." Jeff smiles.
"You are doing a great job. Let me take it from here, though, why don't you go back to class."
"Alright."
Tom regards Voldemort from his crouching position, taking in the blood red eyes and the small figure's retreat to the far side of the hallway several meters away. He makes as if to rise but Voldemort slashes his wand through the air in front of him. Nothing happens magically, but Tom pauses.
:Don't come near me you fool! You must be at least half as intelligent as I am.: Voldemort hisses angrily, backing away yet further.
Tom lets the hand he had been extending drop with shock. "I think that I should stop being so surprised that this sort of thing keeps happening, but who can predict this sort of thing?" He looks at the Dark Lord askance. :Where's Harry?:
:The fool tried to exorcise himself, damned if I know.:
Tom's eyes harden and he starts towards Voldemort.
:Are you really that stupid?: Voldemort cries, grasping his chest and backing away hurriedly. :We can't be anywhere near each other in this state. Unless you want to die and have a stash of Dark tomes of deadly spells in Parseltongue?: Voldemort finishes with a faint hint of hope.
"Of course I don't." Tom says, standing and brushing off his knees but not coming any closer. "Not that I would tell you if I did."
Voldemort narrows his crimson eyes. :Tell me where they are!:
"No." Tom smirks, then his eyes widen and he grins. :And you can't Command me in Parsletongue, either.:
Voldemort curses again. He pokes about in his mind for the power boost that is Harry but finds nothing. Without the dual soul action, he cannot hope to overpower the other wizard's will.
:I must say that you are creative with snake vocabulary.: Tom smirks, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He tilts his head back and then seems to come to a decision. "Mr. Snape?" He calls over his shoulder.
"Yes?" Comes a reply from within. Soon Severus sticks his head out into the corridor. "Oh, hello Harry." Severus looks to Tom and raises and eyebrow almost as expressively than his older counterpart in the alternate universe. "You want me to watch him while you finish up?"
"If you would. I think we may have to bring Myrtle here to have an extra eye on the weekend, if we can't get everything resolved." Tom gives Voldemort a long, suggestive look.
Severus sighs. "Yes." He easily chases Voldemort down and scoops him up into a cuddle. "There, there Harry, calm down, it's alright."
Tom's lips twitch and he turns quickly before he can no longer contain his laughter at the scene, knowing who exactly is behind the crimson eyes. Voldemort vows to Occlude all memory of the experience when Harry gets back, even if he needs something to get the boy's mind to go blank in shock to let him take over.
"Let's head back to Lilly's room, shall we? You seem to like her a lot and she gets done with classes an hour early on Fridays." Snape proceeds to head in that direction, adjusting easily to all of Voldemort's squirming attempts to escape and his desperate grasping at the accidental magic that won't come.
:It just happens for that irritating boy, why can't I get any bursts of super speed?: Voldemort grouses. He finally settles back with poor grace into the bony grip of his former… future… potential? Servant. At the thought his expression becomes even more thunderous. :I haven't felt so helpless since I was a disembodied spirit. No, no- then I could possess people and flit through walls.: He crosses his arms and huffs. :I haven't felt so helpless since I possessed that gods-forsaken baby and had to have Wormtail carry me about.: Voldemort finally says with a sigh, rubbing his temples. :I'm beginning to see Harry's point about suicide. Who wants to live forever with all this indignity?: He grouses.
"Severus!" Lily cries happily when she opens her portrait to his knock. "You're early." She looks down. "And you brought Harry!" She squeals in delight.
:I tracked you down, killed your husband and then murdered you in front of your child.: Voldemort informs her.
"Oh isn't he adorable when he's grumpy?" She coos. "With those gorgeous red eyes!" She turns to Snape. "Do they turn that color ever time he's in a mood?"
Snape shrugs with a grin, apparently seeing nothing particularly unusual about the changing eye colors.
:I enjoyed seeing you beg for your sorry spawn's life immensely and would be happy to murder you again! This time you can watch your son die in front of your eyes first: He snarls.
"There, there." Lilly chortles happily, taking Voldemort from her lover's arms. "We'll cheer you up." She turns back into her rooms, leaving a chuckling Snape to close the portrait behind them.
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"Albus, we have a problem." Tom says, calmly enough that he congratulates himself mentally on not being a total disgrace to his House.
"Don't we always." The Headmaster sighs, sitting back from the paperwork he had been going over. "Harry?"
"He exorcised himself."
"Of course he did." Albus sighs. "Is he back to being unresponsive?"
"No, the soul of… well… me, I suppose…" Tom sits back on his heals and thinks about that for a second. It had been hard to think about something as malevolent as that red eyed hissing thing as a version of himself, but it really was.
Albus chokes on the lemon drop he had just popped into his mouth. Only a quick Heimlich charm saves his life. Tears streaming down his red face Albus asks, "Why exactly are you so calm about a Soul ripping Dark Lord walking in our midst?"
"Well, he can only speak Parseltongue." Tom grins.
"Indeed." Albus doesn't look any less worried.
"If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times Albus, it is not a Dark ability! The only spells known are for aiding in homeostasis and shedding."
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"Ooh, Sev, is it getting hot in here or is that just you?" Lilly coos.
Voldemort, heartily tired of the woman and her cooing and desperately trying to get his wand to do anything that will not worsen the situation, wriggles with mounting panic between the two lovebirds.
"It's getting pretty steamy as well." Snape leans forward.
:Merlin save me from teenage hormones!: Voldemort hisses with as much indignation as he can manage, which, being a Dark Lord, is quite a bit.
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"I see." Albus says, narrowing his eyes. "Are you sure of that."
"I'm still alive and healthy aren't I?" Tom asks cheerfully. "If Voldemort could have done anything I'm pretty sure he would have. I have never heard such inventive usage of Parseltongue. I was almost positive that there were certain ideas that could simply not be expressed in the snake language." He shakes his head. "But my real worry is poor Harry. He is not the dominant personality, of course, but…"
"You are worried that the boy has caused permanent harm to himself." Albus states, leaning back and sucking on the lemon drop. "Very possible."
Tom collapses into one of the seats in front of the Headmaster's desk. "I know. All of my research… it is impossible to say for certain who was the original owner of the body, if either of them were, seeing as it crossed dimensions and was not in either's original form. Or even time." He rubs his hand over his face.
"Of course, before today we had no idea there was such a thing as an exorcism curse." Dumbeldore muses. "I do believe this means I need to do something I really didn't want to do."
"What's that, Albus?" Tom asks worriedly.
"Figure out how to restore Binns."
Tom groans. "Do you think we can do it in secret and then banish him again? I was really looking forward to hiring a new teacher for that class for the first time in almost a century… maybe finally rework the curriculum…"
Albus twinkles at the man in front of him. "Which would you rather have, Tom- Harry back or a new History curriculum?"
"Right." Tom stands, with much more energy than he had a few minutes ago. "I believe it is off to Eleanor's office."
"Eleanor?" Albus blinks.
"Surely you know that she is into the 'unseen world' and all that rot." Tom says, waving his hand dismissively. "The way she acts should be a dead give-a-way."
Dumbledore strokes his beard and hums. "Yes of course, of course- she does have a rather good collection. But I would think that you would want to go to Juniper first. Her people have a rather more practical regard for ghost-craft and looking into the beyond."
Tom perks up even more. "Of course, why didn't I think of that? Maybe she has one of the DreamCatcher plants in one of the greenhouses. I'm almost positive there is a potion for channeling spirits that uses some of its sap."
"Carry on my boy, I shall see what I can get done from here." Albus chuckles as Tom leaves the office, his determined gleam back in his eye. Nothing can stand in Tom's way when he sets his mind to it. The thought instantly sobers the Headmaster, however. "Perhaps I should go check on the other one." He says, rising and leaving through the other door to his office.
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"It's actually getting a downright nasty in here." Lilly pouts, throwing her blouse after the wool robe slumped in the corner. She and Severus work side by side, trying to dry the perishables in the room of condensation and cover all the makeup that is slowly turning into goop.
Voldemort hisses furiously in the corner, trying to get the wand to open the door to the room, or a window, or do anything rather than continue to raise the heat and humidity in the room.
"It is rather odd." Snape says, snapping his fingers to call an elf.
"Pinky is here, sir… what… what is happenings?" The house elf's ears stand straight up in alarm. "The weather in here is being unpleasant."
"We know. Can you see if there is some sort of spell going wrong?" Severus asks, using his shirt to wipe off his forehead then tossing it into the corner with Lilly's. He stops his work when his eyes catch the near see-through of Lilly's lacy bra.
"Maybe we should just go to your room for a bit, I think this is all… Severus?"
All the reply she gets is an unintelligent grunt. "Severus!" Lilly yells, whacking him upside the head with a wet sock.
"Hey!" Snape protests, raising his arms protectively.
"Look me in the eyes when you're talking to me!" Lilly growls menacingly. Voldemort stops his futile attempts to get anything useful done and looks up hopefully at the rising aura of violence.
"Oh you're one to talk." Snape smirks, noting Lilly's eyes wandering south along his bare chest.
Lilly realizes where her gaze has taken itself and a muscle in the corner of her eye twitches. That is all the warning Severus gets before she jumps him brandishing the sock. Snape falls over with an 'oomph' and a crash knocking into a plush chair and then falling to the floor. Voldemort jumps to his feet in excitement, hissing encouragements for violence and pain as Lilly wraps the sock around Snape's neck and one protective arm.
"Lilly!" Snape manages to get out. His face is in an expression seeming torn between lust and fear.
:Great job! Now cast something light to set the mood like a Crucio or Conflagulus!: Voldemort squeals (hisses) in delight.
Just then the door opens with a crash. "My goodness, the frame seems to have expanded somehow and…" Dumbledore trails off as he looks from the water-swollen picture frame to the occupants of the room- Voldemort with his arms raised in the air cheering on a mostly naked Lilly straddling a barely protesting and similarly half naked Severus' chest and attempting to strangle and/or tie him up. All three are frozen in their compromising positions with their heads turned towards the doorway and the bemused Headmaster standing in it.
"Ah, open the windows. That would work." Lilly muses finally, breaking the silence.
"I'll just take young Harry off your hands, then, shall I?" Dumbledore says mildly, Summoning the hissing youth to him.
:Let me go you great old coot! It was just getting good. Once Harry's back I'll have enough mental images to break his mind into a million tiny pieces and maintain my supremacy until the end of time!:
Dumbledore drags Voldemort out of the sauna that was once Lilly's quarters and kicks the door as shut as it is going to go, which is not nearly enough for decency. He leaves the two inside to deal with that and drags the protesting Dark Lord after him, both uncaring as well as unable to hear the curses being sent his way.
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Much later Voldemort is sulking in one of Dumbledore's chairs, glaring at the man as he references several large and dusty tomes and jots down some notes.
"It really is a shame that there is no known translation spell for Parseltongue." Dumbledore muses, quiet enough that Voldemort has to lean forward to hear it. "Just to think that with such a spell you could be taking over the world right now." Dumbledore smiles inwardly when a stream of hissing pours from the boy's mouth again. He rather enjoys it as a pleasant background noise for his studies. Rather like a waterfall, or birds chirping in the background.
"Is the Headmaster wanting Bimpy to be bringing supper to his office?" A House elf pops in to inquire.
"Goodness me, no." Dumbledore looks at one of the spinning devices on his shelf. "Look at that time. We should get to dinner, Harry." Voldemort sends an even more deadly glare at the Headmaster, who retaliates with a brightening twinkle. "Why don't you escort Mr. O'Donnell to his place at the Slytherin tables, Bimpy?" Albus says, musing that being malicious really is too much fun to allow himself more frequent usage.
Voldemort clenches his jaw so tightly that all the muscles seem to be doing the cha-cha around his face. The house elf drags him backwards all the way to the Great Hall, the almost equally sized Voldemort dragging his heals in the entire way and Dumbledore nearly skipping along behind.
Once seated by his dorm mates Voldemort grabs the nearest meat item and proceeds to tear it to pieces with his bare hands and teeth, chewing and swallowing some of it.
"Are you all right Harry?" At Jeff's question Voldemort uses the remainder of the drumstick to whack the larger boy on the head. "Ow!" Jeff retorts, easily plucking the bone away from the tiny Dark Lord. "You shouldn't do that when…"
:Care to finish that threat?: Voldemort hisses maliciously, almost thinking the other boy heard him when his eyes widen comically. But alas, he is looking over the diminutive He Who Must Not Be Named's shoulder. Voldemort tenses right before he is scooped up into a massive hug and lifted from the seat.
"Oh, my poor dear! I've been hearing what an awful time you've been having." A feminine voice coos in his ear. Voldemort's hand twitches around his wand handle reflexively at the tone. "I'm so sorry it took so long to get away, dear, but the beginning of the Hogwarts school year is always busy at the orphanage." The female sighs dramatically into his ear.
"Myrtle, dear, don't crush him." Comes an amused voice from behind the both of them. Voldemort is swung around so abruptly he feels a bit ill, coming face to chest with Tom as they both gasp in pain. Tom backs away hurriedly.
"What's wrong, Tom?" Myrtle asks. Voldemort feels hands spinning him around and lifting him so that he is face to face with the woman's face. "I think you scared my poor husband with that scowling face, dear Harry." Myrtle smiles at him.
:I now realize that letting you die so quickly was a mistake. Next time I will tell the basilisk to keep her eyes closed and bite you instead.: Voldemort hisses spitefully before the full import of what he said caught up to his brain. A wicked gleam starts in his widening eyes. :Basilisk…: He hisses slowly, savoring the feel of the word in his mouth, tasting victory and sweet sweet revenge within his grasp.
Pain flares in his chest as he is grabbed away from Myrtle, who starts to moan about her poor baby being ripped from her arms.
Voldemort gasps at the clenching, tearing feeling in his heart and squirms with quickly weakening force. :Put me down you idiot!: He snaps at Tom, plucking at the other man's fingers to try to make him let go.
:What. Basilisk.: Tom replies, a dangerous edge to his voice. Voldemort kicks himself mentally and vows revenge on Dumbledore (again) for getting him in the habit of cursing people haphazardly in his office.
:I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about.: Voldemort replies coolly. :But if you don't let me down in a moment we will both see if this pain will kill us, rip our souls from our body or join them to one. Won't that be a fun experiment.:
Tom grunts but releases Voldemort. Whether from the increasing weakness or on purpose Voldemort doesn't care. The second his feet touch the ground he takes off running toward the girl's lavatory.
"Catch him!" Tom yells, sprinting after Voldemort. Lacking in any enhanced speed Voldemort despairs of making it until he realizes that his small size and light frame make it easy to slip around the people trying half-heartedly to grab him. He looks back briefly and sees Tom getting tangled in those same people's arms. Grinning maniacally he breaks through the crowd in the Great Hall and darts off to the bathroom. He hears Tom crash into a doorway just as he skids to a stop in front of the sinks.
:Open!: He commands, leaps into the hole and calls :Close!: up at the rapidly shrinking light of the entrance. Cackling/hissing maniacally Voldemort slides into the Chamber of Secrets.