Disclaimer – I am not J.K. Rowling, which means I don't own anything; I am merely borrowing the characters for my own sadistic pleasure.
Warning for the beginning of this chapter: very, very slight Lime (an unintentional one regarding the characters if that makes sense xD)
X
"I, er, didn't think it was possible for anyone to live forever," Harry muttered softly, trying to ignore his body's reaction to the combination of Tom on top of him and the fact Tom didn't seem to mind the thought of spending eternity with him. He really hated hormones sometimes.
He shifted under Tom, trying to separate their bodies slightly, but Tom seemed to have other ideas as he pushed Harry further into the mattress. The older boy's eyes weren't focused on Harry however; they were staring into nothingness above him, and he had a distant yet superior look on his face.
"That's what the world likes to believe, but they couldn't be more wrong. It's the Darkest magic known to man, and most prefer to close their minds off to anything that could threaten their ideal world, but I had no fear in pursuing this magic," Tom whispered, and as he spoke he started to move against Harry ever so slightly. The movement was small, and Tom's face was still so focused that Harry wasn't even sure the other boy knew he was doing it, but there was enough friction that Harry had to bite down on his lip to keep from making a noise.
"Can you imagine it, Harry, being able to conquer death?" Tom continued, his hips continuing their infuriatingly slow rocking. Harry attempted to push himself slightly up into Tom, craving more of that feeling; that friction. "You would hold so much power; the world would be yours. It can be ours if you open yourself to the Dark Arts; allow them to take your body and mind beyond it's natural limits."
"S-sure," Harry stuttered, still trying to grind up into Tom's hips without him noticing. He froze as his voice seemed to bring Tom out of his deep thoughts, and the wizard looked down at Harry with a smirk.
Tom placed his hand over Harry's cheek; it was freezing to the touch, and Harry hated to think how flushed he must look. He shut his eyes as Tom started to caress his cheek gently.
A knock on the door caused Harry's eyes to snap open, and he only managed to glimpse the scowl cross Tom's face before the Dark wizard climbed off him gracefully and strode over to the door.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, my Lord," came a nervous male voice from the other side, "but Avery managed to find some muggles; a tourist family we believe."
"I'll be down shortly," Tom drawled, slamming the door shut in the man's face. "I hope you won't mind my absence, Harry."
"Not at all," Harry lied, telling himself the muggle family downstairs weren't about to be tortured and murdered.
Tom smirked again, and when he opened the door to leave a distinct scream could be heard from the lower floor. Tom shut the door quickly behind him and the scream was only distant for a moment before it stopped altogether, and Harry was grateful for Tom putting up a Silencing Charm.
Not that he approved of the torture of muggles, but the thought of it managed to calm down his hormones and he was able to stand without having to worry about a certain ache.
He had never been with anybody in that sort of proximity before, but something about having Tom on him, and feeling him against him just felt right. It made him feel complete in a way, and he wanted to know how it felt even closer with Tom. Once again he cursed hormones.
He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair; Tom would likely never want him in that way. He was only sixteen and inexperienced; Tom would want someone better.
He had to look away from his reflection; his face was still rather flushed and his hair looked like he'd just had the best sex of his life, although in his defence it looked close to that on a normal day. Brushing his hair only managed to tame it slightly, and one day in fifth year he had forgotten to, and before he could even finish his breakfast rumours had started that he was no longer a virgin. Professor Umbridge had been livid when she heard all the sex talk and of course, she blamed him. His rubbed his hand subconsciously where she had made him use a Blood Quill; fortunately there was no scarring.
Orion noticed he was free again, and Harry soon had an energetic lump of fluff running about his feet. He grinned and dropped to the floor, focusing all his attention on the cat. He had missed out on this for years, so he was going to make the most of it, plus it allowed him to ignore what was going on downstairs.
He nearly regretted his decision when after about an hour of relentless playing, Tom returned to his room to find Harry lying on the floor pretending to be scared of the kitten on his chest. He grinned up at Tom sheepishly as he gently pushed Orion off him and sat up.
"Is this what people do when they have pets?" Tom asked, his eyebrow raised.
"At least in my family," Harry told him, still grinning in embarrassment.
"I never had a pet growing up. There were animals nearby, but they always met unfortunate ends," Tom said with a wicked smirk. Harry tugged Orion a bit closer to him; the movement didn't escape Tom's notice. "I have no desire to kill your cat, Harry. Killing animals is in my past."
Harry inwardly shuddered as admitted to himself that even this Tom appeared to be a sociopath.
They spoke together for a while before Harry decided he was ready for bed. Tom settled himself in an armchair reading while Harry tried to sleep, and after a lot of tossing and turning in the too large bed, Tom came to sit beside Harry. The younger boy snuggled as close as he could to Tom without it looking too suspicious, and when Orion curled up next to his face, and Nagini came in and slithered across his legs, he fell asleep content.
X
Tom woke Harry early the next morning so that he and Draco could Portkey back to Hogwarts. He had been made to leave Orion behind for the time being; he would have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend to avoid suspicion, but he had been given a number of books on Ancient Egyptian magic, most of which were direct translations or guides written by Egyptologists, but a couple were bindings of original scrolls, all of which had been shrunk down so he could fit them in his robes.
"I notice you stayed upstairs last night," Draco mused upon their return to school. "I wouldn't have thought a courageous Gryffindor would be scared of a bit of torture."
"I wasn't afraid," Harry spat back, rolling his eyes. "I don't approve of it but I don't think they would have stopped if I complained."
Draco shook his head. "Your mind works in weird ways, Potter. Still, at least you picked the winning side, even if you do have a funny way of showing it. I'll see you around."
Malfoy walked off in a fashion similar to Snape, and Harry began his walk back to the Gryffindor dormitory to drop off his new books, before deciding to get some more work done on his coursework.
X
By next Friday nothing particularly interesting had happened. Neville, Ron and Hermione seemed to be being slightly sneaky and secretive, but that was a common occurrence every year; Harry couldn't know for sure if it was Voldemort related. Likewise, the glares Ron and Neville were giving to Draco were nothing out of the ordinary.
As he pondered this while he walked to the library, he came across a scene which made him jerk to a halt. Heather was standing with two seventh years in the otherwise deserted corridor. He couldn't hear what was being said, but his sister appeared to be crying. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave her; she deserved a taste of her own medicine, but the other part of him was telling him to act like an older brother should, and with that he mind, he tried to ignore the anxiety inside of him and strode towards the trio.
"Are you okay, Heather?" he asked as he approached; better to speak to his sister than the two unfriendly students.
"Oh I see how it is now," the female stranger started, sneering at the siblings. "Your brother can't keep his grubby hands off guys either; I bet your mother must have raised you both to be slags like her."
"Excuse me?" Harry growled, turning round to face the pair head on, both of whom he now saw were in Ravenclaw. He had gotten used to people mocking him, but he found a burst of bravery now it came to defending his mother.
"I caught your sweet little sister there making out with my boyfriend," the girl spat back angrily, grabbing onto the boy's arm as if to make a point.
"He told me he was single," Heather cut in, her voice breaking only slightly.
"Liar," the girl hissed. Her boyfriend, Harry noted, was staying completely silent and was refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
"Of course; because a bulky seventh year boy can't defend himself from the advances of a fourteen year old girl," Harry stated sarcastically. "Sort out your own relationship problems and leave Heather out of it."
"Whatever. I have better things to do than argue with a little girl and her faggot brother," the girl muttered, barging past Harry as she stormed off, dragging her boyfriend behind her. As she walked, Harry noticed a necklace designed with the caps off Butterbeer bottles dangling slightly from her bag.
"Accio, necklace," he called, waving his wand and catching the jewellery as it flew into his hand. "I don't think this belongs to you," he reprimanded as the girl turned to glare at him before stomping off.
"I didn't need your help," Heather muttered, scuffing her shoe on the floor.
"I'll always defend my family," Harry told her, though he hoped she didn't ask why; he wasn't sure himself given how weak his relationship had been with them all recently, but he supposed he would always be loyal to the Potter name, no matter what their differences were.
"Well maybe you should learn to defend yourself first, like, you can argue for me, but sometimes people say really mean stuff about you in front of me and I have to pretend like I don't care because otherwise they'll turn on me. If you stuck up for yourself I wouldn't have to put up with that; why do you have to be so weird?" his sister all but shouted at him, but as she finished ranting she threw her arms around Harry's neck and whispered "thank you" in his ear before running off. Apparently strange thinking patterns ran in their family.
He made it to the library without further distraction, and found Luna sat near the back on her own, surrounded by books on magical creatures.
"I got your necklace back," he said with a smile, dropping the jewellery in front of her.
"Thank you, Harry. This should help to clear away the Nargles," the blonde smiled, putting the necklace on. "Perhaps you could do with one; you seem rather distracted lately. I can make it less girly for you if you'd prefer."
"That would be lovely, Luna," he replied, pulling his Potions book from his bag. "Have you ever heard of the Half-Blood Prince? He owned this book before me."
"I haven't, no. A prince came to Hogwarts not too long ago, but he was in disguise as a girl the whole time. "
"I don't believe that for one second," came a cold voice behind them, and then Draco Malfoy pulled a chair up beside Luna as Blaise Zabini sat the other side of Harry.
"It's quite true," Luna responded calmly, a happy gleam shining in her eyes. "It makes quite a lovely tale, and we could all use a happy ending in our lives."
"What?" Malfoy said dumbly. He looked slightly like he wanted to bang his head repeatedly against the table, but Harry noticed a sparkle trying to force it's way to the front of Malfoy's eyes. The blond boy did look very depressed at times and that little bit of hope seemed to radically change his face for the better; it made him look more human.
"Anyway, Potter," Malfoy continued, pulling a large parchment covered in scrawls from his bag. "You can translate these for me; I have more important things I need to be doing."
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes as he grabbed the parchment, stuffing it into his bag.
"I swear I hate Dean Thomas sometimes," a new voice stated, and Ginny Weasley appeared from behind a shelf, her face bright red with eyes blazing in anger.
"What did he do?" Harry asked, smirking as Ginny scraped a chair along the floor to join their table, causing Madame Pince to flap her arms wildly in their direction.
"He treats me like I'm a damsel in distress all the time. I'm not a princess; I know how to handle myself, but maybe I'm wrong. Aren't most girls supposed to like chivalry?"
"Well you're not most girls, are you?" Blaise answered, fixing Ginny with a determined stare. "You have the same fire inside you as my mother, and I'd like to see a man try and hold her down," Blaise added with a cruel smirk.
To Harry's surprise, Ginny and Blaise seemed to be getting on exceedingly well, although it was obvious that Blaise was still holding her status as a 'Blood Traitor' against her, but all five of them seemed to be able to hold a civilised conversation without too many insults being thrown, and by the end of the afternoon, Harry could tell that he and Draco had never felt so normal.
X
In bed that evening, Harry drew his curtains shut and made a start on reading the books Tom had given him.
One book in particular seemed to be calling to him; it was a tatty thing, with a torn blank covering, but he felt a surge of magic run through him as he touched it, so he slowly opened it, half expecting something to curse him. When nothing seemed to happen, he gingerly flicked through the pages.
Most had images of hieroglyphics on with writing besides them, detailing what they could be used for. The foreword at the beginning said that Ancient Egyptian wizards didn't use incantations and spells like modern wizards, which had been influenced by the Romans; instead they used the hieroglyphics in some way to invoke magic, although no historian had been able to work out how, although there had been many unsuccessful attempts to explain over the years.
He paused on a page which showed a diagram of an intricate eye; the Eye of Horus. The writing underneath said that it was used by witches and wizards for protection or healing. He traced the outline of the Eye with his finger, humming and shutting his eyes when he felt another rush of magic, only this time much stronger, and the Eye of Horus seemed to be at the front of his mind.
He almost screamed when he opened his eyes again; his skin was practically glowing, with a golden shadow floating over his hands. He sat in shock for a moment, staring at the page for some indication that this could happen, but when it was obvious the author hadn't written about it, his body jerked itself into action.
He listened to make sure his dorm room was empty, and when he was sure he yanked his curtains open and dug through his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak. His dad had given it to him in his first year at Hogwarts, and he had never used it before, but now seemed like a good time; he didn't want people to see him in his current state.
He covered himself and fled the dormitory, waiting for someone to leave or enter the common room so he could sneak out before running through the corridors.
It was only early evening, and he hoped he would find Luna somewhere. He knew she spent a lot of time on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, studying the creatures that lived there, so that was his first destination.
He was pleased to see Luna was indeed there, feeding meat to what Harry presumed was an invisible creature.
"Luna, I need your help," he hissed quietly as he approached her. The blonde didn't even jump.
"I didn't know you had an Invisibility Cloak, Harry" she mused, giggling at the invisible animal in front of her.
"It was my dad's," Harry explained. "It's been in my family for years, I've just never used it before."
"It stills works after all this time?" Luna asked, turning in his direction with a big, knowing smile and dreamy eyes.
"Yeah, but that's not important," Harry muttered, pulling the Cloak off. "What's wrong with me?"
He held his arms up so Luna could see better, and she shut one eye, tilting her head as she took in Harry's glowing form.
"Perhaps you've been bitten by a fairy; most people don't believe they can bite, but they do and they have a particularly strange toxin which causes the person to sparkle," the Ravenclaw told him. "But you aren't so much sparkling as glowing."
"I was reading a book on Ancient Egyptian magic, and it started after I touched an image of the Eye of Horus," Harry said, looking down curiously at his hands.
"Hmm, can I have your wand a moment?" Luna asked, smiling when Harry reluctantly gave it to the girl. She placed it on the floor by her feet and drew her own wand, pointing it at Harry.
"What are you-?" Harry started, but Luna cried 'Stupefy' before he could finish his sentence.
Without a wand to defend himself, Harry instinctively held his hands in front of his face. It took him a few seconds to realise he wasn't unconscious.
"What?" he muttered to himself, confused, watching in awe as the red light of Luna's spell dissolved amongst the golden glow.
"You've invoked Ancient magic," Luna explained, looking at Harry with enchantment.
"How have I managed to do that?" he questioned, although if an Egyptologist didn't know he doubted Luna would; she was in Ravenclaw for a reason, but she wasn't a master of all knowledge.
"I'm not sure. Perhaps you could clear your mind to try and stop it," she suggested.
Harry shut his eyes, clearing his mind as he would for Occlumency, and when he reopened them his skin appeared to be back to normal; yes, he knew Luna was definitely in Ravenclaw for a reason. She was very clever, but most believed her to be of just over average intelligence because she focused her studies and interests more on the unknown and incredibly rare creatures.
He imagined the Eye in his mind again, and once again his skin glowed golden, fading when he shut off his mind.
"This is weird," he murmured, kicking the mud at his feet.
"Quite the mystery," Luna agreed, handing Harry his wand back. "I expect we'll have missed dinner now, but we should be in time for pudding.
X
Harry decided not to go running to Tom straight away with his new knowledge. He wanted to try and understand it a bit better so he didn't look completely incompetent. He wondered if it was weird that he had been given a boost in confidence by some strange sensation that could just outcast him from the world.
The books in the library didn't have any information on Ancient magic at all, so being able to produce it was probably not highly thought of; he remembered Tom had told him that Dumbledore and/or the Ministry of Magic wasn't too keen on students finding out that kind of information, though he wasn't sure why.
He had experimented with another symbol, this one for water which turned his skin blue and almost made him flood his dorm room; he had never cast so many drying charms in his life. He daren't try any others, but at least now he knew it wasn't a fluke; he just wasn't sure why it was happening.
After much reading he decided that books were getting him nowhere because each of them claimed it was a lost branch of magic and so they could only study the effects, not the cause, but he was sure somebody else in the modern world must have figured it out, but he didn't have a clue how to find out.
He realised he would need Tom for that, but he supposed at least he was showing initiative.
Tired of reading, he wandered down into the common room, which was empty bar Ron, Neville and Hermione, who were talking in hushed tones in a corner.
"Can't you sleep?" Hermione asked as she saw him, drawing their private conversation to a close.
"What time is it?" Harry asked, sitting down beside Ron.
"It's almost midnight," the girl replied, looking at him with concern. Harry hadn't been aware he had been reading for that long.
"Why are you still up?" Harry enquired, taking the subject away from him. He brought his feet up onto his chair and rested his head on his knees.
"Just chatting," Neville said with a small smile which didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Are you ok? You seem a bit sad," Harry pointed out; best to call Neville out on it in case he let something slip, but Neville just shrugged.
An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and for a while none of them spoke, but then Harry noticed a parchment by Neville's feet, which looked like it had markings of a map on it.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing to it, and Neville blushed red.
"It's a map of Hogwarts," the Boy Who Lived told him, clearly not wanting to say much about it.
"Fred and George gave it to us in third year," Ron added. "It's called the Marauder's Map, but it's nothing interesting."
Harry however, found that very interesting.
"The Marauder's being Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs? The map showing you where every person is in the school and all the secret passages?"
James and Sirius had told him a lot about the map, and they had had high hopes he would find it after Filch confiscated it from them while they were still at school. He only looked for it once but he had no luck, but it was obvious to him now that was because someone else got it first.
"How do you know about it?" Ron asked sharply, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"My dad and Godfather's made it. Prongs is my dad, Moony is Professor Lupin and Padfoot was Sirius, you know, from the Ministry last June…" he trailed off, quite aware of the sympathetic look Hermione was giving him.
"Would you like it back?" she asked slowly, ignoring the glare from Ron and panicked look from Neville. She didn't seem sincere as such, but the girl knew it would be the right thing to do. Normally Harry would have let it go, but because they could stalk Draco easily with it, he knew he'd have to be rude and accept the reluctant offer.
"Would you mind? I just don't have much from Sirius and it's still hard to get used to," he said quietly, not even having to fake the tears that had sprung to his eyes; he didn't know if he'd ever be able to talk about Sirius openly.
"Of course," Hermione stated, sounding more sure of herself now. "You wouldn't mind if we borrowed it at times though, would you?"
"Of course not," Harry sniffed, trying to stay on their good side; it certainly seemed to relax Ron and Neville.
"Good, 'cause Neville's gonna need it if Dumbledore keeps him late again; we all know Snape won't care if he catches him out after-hours, whatever the reason," Ron grinned, his smile fading after he realised what he had said.
"You have extra lessons with Dumbledore?" Harry asked, watching the trio's expressions closely. Hermione was giving warning looks to Neville, who was keeping his own eyes very downcast.
"Just Voldemort stuff," Neville explained vaguely.
"Duelling techniques?" Harry guessed; Neville certainly needed them.
"No, but I'm not allowed to tell you much; Professor Dumbledore's orders, sorry, Harry," Neville continued, standing up. "I think I'm ready for bed now."
Ron and Hermione nodded and stood up quickly, bidding Harry goodnight and rushing upstairs.
Harry grabbed the Marauder's Map from the floor to have a closer look. He noticed they hadn't told him how to clear or activate the map, but his dad had told him all he needed to know. Most of the student's names were clustered around their respective dormitories and living quarters, but one dot was moving about the corridors; Draco Malfoy.
X
On Saturday evening Harry made his way down to the dungeons to meet Draco. The Slytherin seemed to be in slightly better spirits than usual; he appeared to once again look like he thought he was better than everyone else.
"You seem happy," Harry commented, and Draco sneered.
"I have reason to be; last night I found proof that Dumbledore truly is a fool," Malfoy stated, looking entirely pleased with himself. He began to activate the Portkey, indicating he would say no more on the topic.
Harry only stumbled slightly once they arrived at Malfoy Manor, much to his pleasure.
Almost straight away they were ushered into a small hall where Tom and Voldemort were sat waiting, Nagini coiled up on the table between them.
"Tell me, Draco," Voldemort demanded, fixing a cold gaze on the boy. "Have you made any progress this week?"
"Yes, my Lord," Draco answered, keeping his eyes downcast despite the confidence in his voice. "I have located the Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts. It is broken but I believe I shall be able to fix it very soon. The halfwits at Hogwarts don't suspect a thing."
Harry couldn't stop himself from half laughing, half coughing, drawing everyone's attention to him.
"What?" Draco hissed, looking slightly alarmed.
"Neville Longbottom and his friends suspect you," Harry told him, avoiding looking at the Dark Lord. "They've been staring at you a lot, but then again they do that every year, but at Midnight last night I went down to the Common Room and they were looking at this map which shows the exact location of everyone in Hogwarts. Seeing as you were the only person out of bed I think they were tracking you."
Malfoy scowled. "Have they still got this map?"
"I took it off them. My dad helped make it, so they agreed it technically belongs to me," Harry shrugged, starting to feel uncomfortable with the staring.
"And has Longbottom revealed anything else?" Voldemort asked, his tone harsh.
Harry turned to face the evil wizard, feeling much less confident than he had been talking to Draco.
"He mentioned something last night about having lessons with Dumbledore," Harry said quietly. "He wouldn't tell me what the lessons were, but they're not to do with duelling or anything."
Voldemort's mouth twitched upwards in a cruel smile. Tom's mouth did the same, and despite the drastic physical differences they were still strikingly alike with their expressions and mannerisms, more so when they were together. It was slightly creepy.
"Of course; Dumbledore believes love is the strongest weapon, after all," the Dark Lord mused aloud, the look in his eyes suggesting he had an idea of what those lessons were about. "Leave now, children."
Both Harry and Draco stood quickly and left the room; Harry could feel the relief washing off the blond in waves.
"We did well this week," Draco muttered as he led them upstairs. "He was angry, of course, but at least we did enough to stop him taking it out on us."
It was the first time Malfoy had referenced to them being a team, and the Slytherin realised that as well because his demeanour grew cold once again.
"Malfoy, your library has a lot of rare books, doesn't it?" Harry asked as they passed by said room.
"Yes, Mother and Father have a vast collection," the boy answered boastfully, pausing so they could look inside.
"Can I use it for some research?" Harry enquired, waiting as Malfoy studied him for a moment. It would save him going straight to Tom for answers.
"I presume you're after some books on the Dark Arts?" the boy questioned, and Harry nodded. Malfoy returned the gesture and indicated for him to follow him through the library.
They stopped at a large painting of a blonde haired woman who looked much like Draco.
"Hello, Flavia," Draco greeted the woman, who smiled warmly at him.
"Draco, my darling grandson, who is your friend?" the woman, Flavia, responded.
"This is Harry Potter. I hereby give my permission for him to come and go from the Flavius room as he pleases."
"Certainly, dear grandson; study hard and you shall achieve your goals."
The portrait swung open, and Harry followed Draco into a cramped and dusty room, the shelves filled with tatty books and loose papers.
"My great-grandmother Flavia was a keen reader," Draco murmured. "She had great interest in the Dark Arts and she collected most of the works in this room; everything but the recent works. We don't use this room much, but it is organised so I expect it to stay that way. Likewise, these books are falling apart because Flavia believes it gives them more charm; that doesn't mean you can destroy them. I wouldn't spend too long in here either; the Dark Lord and Lord Riddle come here after meetings."
As soon as Malfoy left, Harry started to search the shelves. The topics of the books had been scrawled on parchment and hung up by the corresponding sections. Harry trailed his fingers along the shelves until he reached the sign reading 'Ancient Magic.'
He glanced at the titles, eyes pausing at a journal with the name 'Lovegood, Selene' written on the side. If Harry wasn't mistaken, that was the name of Luna's deceased mother. Unable to resist his curiosity, he pulled the journal from the shelf.
He flicked through the pages gently. Luna had said her mother loved to experiment, a hobby that ultimately killed her, and her journal recounted her many experiments.
He turned to the last couple of pages, dated November 14th, 1990. This was the experiment that had killed her, and while Luna saw the spell turn against her mother, she hadn't known what it had been designed for, and Harry wondered if Luna would like to know. He looked at the last entry, his eyes widening as he read.
'I believe I have finally found an alternative way for producing a Horcrux. One might wonder why a woman of good standing could be possessed to create such a foul, Dark object, but I must argue that without committing a murder, surely a Horcrux isn't so wrong. I know the Dark Lord will rise again; I have seen in my dreams what is to come. My Seer power is not strong, but I know the visions I do receive are of the upmost importance. I will not stand back and watch my husband and my beautiful daughter die. If I am successful, I shall create a Horcrux for them too, so if the worst happens we shall all be able to return and be together once more. I admit that splitting a soul without the act of an unforgivable crime is unheard of, but it is a necessity. One needn't lose their humanity when splitting their soul. I shall report tomorrow with my findings. With any luck I shall be able to give Luna the greatest gift of all on her birthday; the gift of everlasting life.'
Harry had to wipe the tears from his eyes once he finished the passage. It wasn't until the last line that he realised it had been written a day before Luna's tenth birthday.
He had never heard of a Horcrux before; from what he could gather it involved splitting one's soul in order to produce immortality, or at least the ability to return from the dead, but he couldn't understand how it worked. Selene had drawn a symbol at the end of the passage; a circle with a slanted 'Z' in the middle.
He returned the journal to the shelf, suddenly not so sure he wanted to tell Luna.
He grabbed another journal, this one titled 'Ancient Egyptian magic'.
'My name is Algar Outterridge. I do not have long before they take me away. If you are reading this, then you have been infected just as I have. Perhaps you have sought out my journal after unexpected magical powers have appeared in your life and frightened you, or perhaps you seek to control them. I am afraid if that is the case I cannot help, for I have no time, but I shall tell you that you are not alone. We are not alone.
My story begins in Egypt. I travelled many times to the Pyramids, and no matter how careful one can be, there is always room for mistakes. My own mistake was very large, and I stepped foot on a trap. I would have been killed, but my hand grabbed hold of an unknown object and I felt strange magic surge through me. It radiated off me, obliterating the trap and saving my life. A peculiar experience, but I was grateful for it.
On my return to England, I noted strange occurrences; Egyptian symbols would flash before my eyes and my skin would glow. I was able to do wonderful but devastating things. I also noticed a shadowy figure that only I could see, and I fear at times it possessed me. I returned to Egypt and spoke to their leading magical historian.
What he told me shall affect you. I was infected, he said, by an Ancient magic that had great influence over my life. In my case, the object I had touched had been cursed, releasing the spirit of an Ancient wizard. His presence in my life opened my magical core to the Ancient powers. That is my own personal story; yours may be very different, but if your life has been influenced by Ancient magic in a significant way, then your core has been infected.
The word infected may seem peculiar; it is not a bad thing, in fact, Ancient magic is very powerful, but that is what makes it an infection. Society does not like to be scared. People you once trusted can turn on you; my own wife has turned me in to the authorities. The Ministry of Magic is coming to lock me away in an Asylum. I shall let them; I cannot live my life as an outcast. I will manage well in an asylum. I can practice my powers in private and I can perfect them until I am ready. I can delve further into other Ancient magic, such as Greek and Roman. I will have peace and thus control.
For you, my reader, do not tell anybody unless you believe they shall guard your secret. Count your infection as a blessing, for it truly is. I can hear them in my home now. It is time. If you need me, you shall be able to find me. You are not alone.'
For a few minutes, Harry stood in shook, taking the information in. He was infected by Ancient magic? This was the first he had ever heard of it really, he couldn't imagine how he could have been affected by it.
He could feel his hands trembling, and he shakily put the journal back. Algar Outterridge; he needed to remember that name. The date on the journal was 1979, so there was a high possibility he was still in an asylum. Mentis Morbo Asylum was the only one he knew of, so that would be his first go-point.
He was ready to leave the library, but a parchment sticking out from the shelf caught his eye. The circular symbol from Selene Lovegood's journal had been drawn multiple times on it.
He pulled the parchment fully out; the symbol had been drawn all over the sheet, along with the word 'Horcrux' in crooked writing. It was all the parchment contained, and Harry wondered why he had been drawn to it; he had never heard of a Horcrux before, but now it seemed to be everywhere he looked. Perhaps he was exaggerating slightly, but two times was too many for him.
He froze as he realised his fingernail had carved the symbol into the shelf. He eyed the blood in shock, flinching as the Eye of Horus unwillingly flashed at the front of his mind, the golden glow settling over his finger and healing it before fading back to normality.
He traced over the carved symbol, jumping violently when he heard a voice behind him.
"Were you not told to leave before our arrival?" Voldemort hissed warningly.
Harry turned around, the parchment still clutched tightly in his fist. "I'm sorry; I'm-I'm going now," he stuttered, his heart beating heavily from the shock. He noticed both Voldemort's and Tom's eyes seemed instantly drawn to the parchment in his hand, so he turned back to put it on the shelf.
Tom was eyeing him with a dark look, while the Dark Lord had an evil smile on his face.
He backed slowly from the room, intent on leaving so he could to find a corner to calm down in.
Nagini was hissing to the other men, and as Harry's eyes locked with the snake's, he very clearly heard her say "he can be trusted."
He yelped, slamming his hands over his mouth before fleeing from the room as fast as he could. He didn't stop until he ran out of breath, and he slid down a wall, his head spinning from everything that had happened.
All the Ancient magic stuff, coupled with a sudden influx of information on a rare piece of magic and combined with spontaneously talking snake was all too much.
"Young sir?" came a small voice.
"Great, how I'm hearing things, oh, and now I'm talking to myself too. Wonderful," Harry muttered angrily aloud.
"Young sir, are you alright? Can Dobby help you at all?" the voice came again. A small hand tugged on his sleeve, and Harry turned to see a rather sorry House-Elf.
"I'm okay, thank you for asking," he told the creature, managing a smile. At least he wasn't that insane.
"You don't have to thank me, young sir. Dobby is only doing his job. Mistress is very adamant that Dobby is good to her guests."
"No, I meant it when I said thank you, Dobby," he smiled, his gesture fading as the creature's eyes filled with tears.
"Dobby has not been thanked in a long time, young sir. You are very kind. Would you like Dobby to fetch Young Master for you?"
"If you could please. And call me Harry; I'm not a sir."
Dobby giggled. "Sir Harry then," the House-Elf stated, before vanishing off to get Draco. Harry felt sorry for the elf; it looked like the Malfoy family wasn't kind to him, though that wasn't surprising; it was far too common for House-Elves to be mistreated.
Dobby returned not much later with Draco.
"What's the matter?" Malfoy asked, not looking or sounding like he really cared.
"Just read some stuff," Harry answered lamely, but Draco seemed to understand.
"The Dark Arts can be horrifying but they're addictive. Be careful with them," the blond said, staring down at Harry.
"It almost sounds like you care, Malfoy," Harry retorted with a grin; bantering with the Slytherin was better than thinking about his real problems, after all.
Before Malfoy could respond, Nagini slithered past them, making the blond boy freeze. Tom followed the snake, and Draco quickly bowed his head in greeting before darting off.
Tom held his hand down to help Harry up, and then he pulled him towards his room without speaking.
Once they were inside, Tom shut the door and looked at Harry expectantly.
"Why is this happening to me?" Harry asked, and Tom tilted his head slightly.
"Why is what happening exactly?" the older boy questioned calmly, sitting himself down in a chair.
"Well I've been hearing random bits of snake talk each time I've been here, and now I've found out I've been infected with some Ancient magic or something which is making weird stuff happen."
To Harry's surprise, Tom stood again, suddenly showing a lot more intrigue than previously.
"Show me," he ordered, and Harry shut his eyes again, feeling the glow settle over his skin.
When he opened his eyes, Tom was staring at him hungrily. "Keep it up," he demanded, stepping closer to Harry, making the younger boy step backwards until he hit the wall.
"There's so much power," Tom growled, grabbing Harry's wrist and holding it upwards.
"It's too much," Harry whispered desperately. Tom grabbed Harry's other wrist and held them both above his head, pressing his own body into the Gryffindor's.
"No, it's perfect," Tom hissed in his ear. "I need to feel this power; I need to taste it."
Then Tom leant forwards, and pressed his lips firmly over Harry's.
X
So. Many. Words. That's a good thing though, right? But yay; we've started to get into proper plot now :D
More explanations are coming, so don't panic if you're confused or anything.
Also, with Tom and Harry's relationship, I've made it back to front. I know most relationships start off emotional before getting physical, but seeing as Tom is a sociopath that's not how he works. Physical attraction comes first, and his twisted sense of 'love' will come later.